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Chapter 2 - Chapter 2: The CROWNS

When Ryner opened his eyes, the suffocating weight of the Valley of Sins was gone.

 

The sharp sting of ash in his lungs, the bitter cold of stone against his skin, the heaviness of poison coursing through his veins—all of it vanished. He gasped, as though waking from a nightmare, but the air he drew in was unlike anything he had ever breathed. It was clean, impossibly clean, and carried with it a faint golden fragrance that reminded him of sunlight… except this light had no warmth, no heat, only brilliance.

 

Slowly, Ryner pushed himself up. His body no longer screamed with pain, though his limbs still felt fragile, trembling. He looked down at himself—no wounds, no blood, but his clothes remained ragged and his hands still bore the stains of his last struggle.

 

"What… is this place?" he muttered.

 

The ground beneath him was not earth, nor stone, nor anything familiar. It was marble—white, seamless, polished so perfectly that it reflected his faint, weary figure back at him. Yet this marble stretched endlessly, without edge or crack, vanishing into a horizon that did not exist. It was infinity itself, boundless, yet Ryner felt something strange: *walls.* As if the infinity around him was shaped, ordered, enclosed by rules beyond human comprehension.

 

He tilted his head back. The "sky" was not a sky at all but a dome of golden radiance, shifting like the inside of a sun. And within it, faint threads of silver light weaved patterns, like constellations being written and rewritten with every heartbeat.

 

Then he saw them.

 

Before him stood **four thrones**.

 

They were colossal, rising higher than towers, each one carved not from stone or metal, but from the very fabric of existence. The first throne shimmered with pure light, radiating childlike energy. The second was woven from shadows and time, flickering between past and future. The third blazed like a sun, its brilliance carrying the weight of law and judgment. The fourth was woven from countless threads of silver and gold, crossing and knotting like the tapestry of destiny itself.

 

And there was a **fifth throne**.

 

It towered above the others, so vast Ryner's neck ached as he tried to take in its height. Unlike the rest, it was silent, still, and utterly empty. Yet from it came an aura that pressed on his chest like an invisible hand. Waiting. Expectant.

 

Ryner stumbled back, his heart hammering. His instincts screamed at him—these thrones, these presences, were not things a mortal boy should ever lay eyes upon.

 

And then… they moved.

 

A boy sat upon the first throne.

 

Messy-haired, no older than twelve, swinging his legs like he was perched on a fence instead of a seat carved out of eternity. His eyes shimmered with every color, shifting like stars being born and dying in a child's gaze. He grinned, wide and carefree, and when he spoke, his voice carried like a song through the infinite hall.

 

"Yo!" the boy chirped, waving cheerfully. "Name's **Luis CROWN Waydon**—the **Crown of Origin and Eternity**! Nice to meet ya, Trash Kid."

 

Ryner froze. *Trash Kid?*

 

Luis tilted his head, pouting playfully. "What? That's what they called you, right? Don't worry, I like trash. You can recycle it into treasure!" He giggled, a light, childish laugh that should have been harmless. But Ryner's soul trembled, because beneath that laughter, he felt something terrifying—an authority that could bend existence itself.

 

Before Ryner could respond, another voice spoke.

 

"I fear my master's words lack delicacy."

 

The second throne stirred. A man sat there, older in presence, though his face looked no more than twenty-five. His silver hair flowed like a river of moonlight, and his calm eyes seemed to contain centuries, as though he had lived and died a thousand lives. He inclined his head respectfully toward Ryner.

 

"I am **Rune CROWN Blackwood**, disciple of Luis, wielder of the **Crown of Reincarnation and Paradox.**" His tone was soft, patient, steady like the flow of time itself. "Do not be shaken by my master's eccentric manner. You now stand before a gathering that transcends existence."

 

Ryner's lips parted, but no words came out. His throat was dry, his mind racing. *Transcends existence?*

 

The air thickened.

 

From the third throne, a man leaned forward. He radiated sheer authority. His golden eyes blazed with fire, and his very gaze pressed down on Ryner like the crushing weight of the heavens. His voice was heavy, unyielding, absolute.

 

"I am **CROWN Ming Zing, the Crown of Judgment and Divinity.** Disciple of Rune." His words reverberated through the hall, shaking even the marble floor. "Before me, even gods must kneel."

 

The words cut into Ryner like blades, not of cruelty, but of power. Irresistible. Commanding. He staggered, struggling to breathe under the sheer dominance of Ming Zing's presence.

 

And then… a different presence. Softer, yet sharper. The fourth throne stirred, and a young man no older than twenty sat with elegance and composure. His long hair flowed like silk, his refined posture exuding nobility. When he spoke, his voice was poetry, smooth and graceful, yet heavy with inevitability.

 

"I am **Lucas CROWN Fontaine, the Crown of Destiny and Fate.** Once, I was the son of a Duke, bound by chains of mortality. But destiny twisted… and lifted me here." His faint smile was both kind and untouchable, like a nobleman watching a commoner from a balcony. "I guide the inevitable. I weave the threads of tomorrow."

 

Ryner's legs gave way. He dropped to his knees, trembling. The air itself seemed too heavy, his soul quivering before these beings whose names bent reality.

 

*What is this? Why am I here? Why would I, of all people, stand before… them?*

 

Luis hopped down from his throne. He landed in front of Ryner without a sound, though the impact reverberated through eternity. His childish grin widened as he jabbed Ryner's chest with a finger glowing faintly with starlight.

 

"Hey, hey, don't faint on us now! You're the guest of honor." Luis's tone was playful, but his eyes shone with something infinite, something terrifying. "Guess what?"

 

Ryner blinked, shivering. "…W-what?"

 

Luis pointed to the colossal, empty throne. His voice dropped into a sing-song whisper.

 

"The **Fifth Crown**—yeah, the big one over there? It's chosen you. Congratulations!"

 

The words struck Ryner like lightning.

 

"M-me?" His voice cracked, breaking into disbelief. "But I… I'm nothing. I couldn't protect my mother, I couldn't—"

 

"Shut up."

 

Ming Zing's voice sliced through him, merciless and sharp as a divine blade. Ryner flinched as though struck, his protests dying in his throat.

 

"You think choice is yours to make?" Ming's golden eyes burned into him. "The Fifth Crown has already spoken. The throne has chosen. Your weakness, your doubts—irrelevant. Fate is sealed."

 

Rune lifted a calming hand, his voice steady. "Ming, do not frighten him further. The boy has endured enough torment in his mortal life." He turned his patient gaze upon Ryner. "Young one, understand this: every Crown was once broken, discarded, or lost. Eternity found Luis. Reincarnation found me. Judgment found Ming. Destiny found Lucas. And now… the Fifth has found you."

 

Lucas's faint smile deepened. His voice flowed like silk over steel. "You need not understand yet. Fate reveals itself in time, whether one struggles or submits."

 

Ryner's breath came in ragged bursts. His mind spun. *The Fifth Crown… chose me? Trash? Broken? Weak? Why me, again?*

 

Luis suddenly threw an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close with a mischievous grin. He looked like a boy dragging a friend into mischief, but his touch carried the weight of a universe.

 

"So, kid—Ryner Alostrio, huh?" His voice lowered, childlike yet filled with cosmic authority. "Welcome to **THE CROWNS**. From now on, you're one of us. That means you'll suffer more than ever, fight more than ever, and maybe… just maybe…" His grin widened, teeth flashing like stars. "…rewrite your own story."

 

Ryner's eyes darted back to the massive empty throne. His heart thundered in his chest, louder than the echoes of eternity around him.

 

The Fifth Crown… had chosen *him.*

 

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(Chapter End)

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