The void did not roar when the Second Seal broke.
Roaring is for things with lungs.
Instead, it convulsed.
Like all of creation had just remembered something it swore never to recall.
Kael lay on one knee, fingers digging into the fractured ground of unreality.
His breath came jagged, uneven — each inhale scraping against a memory still half-buried.
The Crown hovered above his skull like a shadow halo, flickering between being and not-being, choosing its form the way a predator chooses silence over footsteps.
The Architect stood rigid, their blueprint-light flickering in frantic equations.
"He's destabilizing," they murmured.
"If this continues, he will remember the Third Seal before the void is ready."
The sealed Kael shook their head slowly.
"No.
He must remember this part.
He must remember it."
Kael winced as a pulse of pain stabbed behind his eyes.
"What… what am I supposed to be remembering?"
The sealed version didn't answer immediately.
Instead, they lifted a hand toward the darkness beyond the void — the place even light refused to acknowledge.
"That."
Kael turned.
The void moved.
Not shifted.
Not stirred.
Moved.
Like a continent of darkness rising from an ocean of silence.
An outline emerged — too large to comprehend.
Too ancient to categorize.
Too wrong to belong in a universe with laws.
Kael felt his throat dry instantly.
His body locked.
His heartbeat stuttered.
The Architect whispered:
"Do not look at its eyes."
Kael couldn't even find its eyes.
Only a shape older than shape.
A shadow older than shadow.
A presence that bent existence by simply deciding it was present.
And then—
It knelt.
The colossal, indescribable entity lowered itself onto a knee, folding universes in its posture, bending spacetime like cloth.
The void trembled in reverence.
And Kael's vision blurred as something inside him — something old, brittle, aching — unlocked.
The entity spoke.
Its voice was not a sound.
It was the pressure in Kael's bones.
It was the trembling of forgotten stars.
It was the gasp of the Architect.
"Vo—"
Kael's chest spasmed.
The syllable hit him like a collapsing cosmos.
> [NAME RECONSTRUCTION: 47%]
[LOCKED TITLE: RECOGNIZED]
The Architect stepped in front of Kael, arms outstretched.
"STOP! He cannot hear that name yet!"
The entity's massive form shifted slightly.
Not in threat.
In obedience.
It bowed its head lower.
Kael's fingers clawed the void floor.
His breath shook.
"W–why is it bowing to me?"
The sealed Kael's voice was soft — too soft for the weight of the truth they carried.
"Because once…
you commanded it."
Kael stared at the kneeling colossus.
"No.
That's impossible."
The sealed version stepped closer, their own silhouette flickering.
"You don't remember the Third Era of Silence.
You don't remember the throne you built from dying dimensions.
You don't remember the day the void crowned you King against your will."
Kael's pulse thundered in his ears.
"I'm not a king."
"Correct," the sealed Kael agreed.
"You were something far worse."
The Architect clenched their hands.
"That thing kneels because it fears you.
Because your true name forced its species into extinction."
Kael's vision tunneled.
"…Species?"
The sealed Kael nodded.
"There were once nine of them.
Each one large enough to devour a timeline.
Each one ancient enough to remember the First Light."
Kael's breath hitched.
"What… happened to them?"
"You," the sealed version whispered.
"You happened."
The colossal kneeling entity trembled — not in fear, but in reverent nostalgia.
Kael shook his head violently.
"No.
No, I didn't— I wouldn't—"
"You had no choice," the sealed Kael said.
"They came for your name.
To erase it.
To erase you.
You erased them first."
Kael's heartbeat pounded uncontrollably.
"Why?
Why did they fear my name?"
The sealed Kael pointed at him.
"Because your name was a command."
"A concept."
"A law that only obeyed itself."
The Architect stepped closer.
Their voice lowered, trembling with reluctant respect:
"Your name was the only thing in existence the void could not consume."
Kael's mind swirled with white noise.
"And that thing—"
He pointed at the kneeling colossus.
"—what is it exactly?"
The Architect answered quietly.
"It is the last of the Oblivion Sovereigns."
"A species that ruled erasure itself."
"And it kneels because the sound of your name destroyed its brethren."
Kael stared at the titanic silhouette.
"And what does it want now?"
The sealed Kael smiled.
"A reminder."
Kael swallowed.
"A reminder of what?"
The sealed version leaned in.
"Of who their King used to be."
The void quaked.
The entity lifted its head—
And Kael's true name burned against the inside of his skull like molten infinity.
> [NAME RECONSTRUCTION: 61%]
[THIRD SEAL: AWAKENING]
The Architect cursed under their breath.
"He's remembering too quickly."
But the sealed Kael whispered with satisfaction:
"No.
He's remembering perfectly."
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