He kept walking.
Past pillars cracked in half.
Past ones where names tried to appear—glitching out, unable to fully manifest.
Until he stopped.
There, at the far end of the chamber, stood a single empty pedestal.
But the moment he looked at it—
A glowing name began to write itself, letter by letter.
Not in gold.
But in blue fire.
[Name: Leon Aetheren]
The others froze.
Milim inhaled sharply. "What the hell—?!"
Leon stared.
Then looked behind him. "What does this mean? I'm still alive."
Roselia whispered, "Maybe this is where you're supposed to die."
Then, a shape appeared.
No sound.
Just the faint shimmer of a hooded figure, cloaked in shifting symbols.
It didn't speak.
It held out a scroll.
Leon took it.
And instantly—
The world twisted.
He stood alone.
The chamber gone.
Just an empty room.
And across from him… a young man. His face familiar. His posture confident.
Wearing a tattered Crown.
Leon recognized him immediately.
It was him.
But younger.
