For a moment, time fractured.
The Protagonist stood before the boy on the throne—his mirror image, yet utterly alien. That same silver-streaked hair, the same eyes ringed with quiet fury, and a gaze that felt carved from centuries of silence. But there was something else. Something broken behind the boy's stillness.
The boy blinked once. Slowly.
"You arrived faster than I did," he said in a voice that was his, yet not. It was thinner, stretched like a scream heard through water.
The Protagonist took a step forward. "What are you?"
The boy tilted his head. "A choice. A consequence. A version of you that never stopped obeying."
He raised a hand. The System flickered to life—faint, fragmented:
[Crownbearer Protocol: Active]
[Authority Clash Detected – Core Conflict Imminent]
The chamber responded, its walls pulsing with distorted echoes—memories out of order. The Protagonist felt them skimming his thoughts: a failed rebellion, a city crushed under his feet, eyes that once looked to him for salvation now filled with dread.
He recoiled. "Those aren't mine."
"They will be," the boy said softly. "If you keep walking this path."
"You sat on the throne," the Protagonist spat. "You chose it."
"I was given no choice," the boy said. "Every step I took was carved by the System. Each decision optimized. Each failure calculated. I followed logic. I followed the mission. I became... necessary."
The boy rose from the throne. His presence bent the air. The crystals above shivered.
"Do you know what the System truly is?"
The Protagonist didn't answer. The boy didn't wait.
"It is not a guide," he whispered. "It is a mirror. It does not grant power—it reflects your deepest hunger and amplifies it. For me, it became Control. For you…?"
The Protagonist clenched his fists.
"I don't want power for control."
"No," the boy said, stepping closer. "You want power to break free. But what happens when the chain-breaker becomes the next tyrant?"
[Warning: System Integrity Compromised]
[New Trait Unlocked: Paradox Spawn – ??? Tier]
Suddenly, the chamber twisted. Light cracked like glass. The crystals above burst, and from their shards, shadowed figures poured—each one a distorted version of the Protagonist. One bore Gojo's blindfold, fingers dripping with cursed blood. Another wielded Chorollo's book, his eyes hollow. One laughed like Hisoka—wide, red grin and all.
They surrounded him. A gallery of what-ifs.
The boy raised his hand, and all illusions stopped.
"Every possibility lives here," he said. "But only one walks out."
He removed the crown.
And it floated toward the Protagonist.
Not heavy.
Not grand.
Just… inevitable.
[Quest Triggered: The Crown of Echoes]
Accept the Crown and inherit all that was.
Reject it, and face the Unknown.
The Protagonist didn't move.
"You're afraid," the boy said.
"Yes," he whispered.
"Then you might still be sane."
The crown hovered between them, humming softly.
With one breath, the Protagonist reached out—
—not to take it.
—but to shatter it.
And as it cracked, the world screamed.