Version_Zero didn't move. Didn't blink. Didn't breathe.
He just held out the box.
Not to threaten me. Not to trap me.
To offer it.
> "This contains the throne you were promised," he said. "And the price of taking it."
I reached for it.
But before my fingers touched silver, the air split open behind me—like paper torn by a blade sharpened on regret.
> "System Breach: Unknown signal override."
> "Loop Synchronization Interruption."
> "WARNING: Multiple heir signals detected within singular throne-thread."
Solenne gasped. Not in surprise. In horror.
"No," she whispered. "It's too soon."
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
"Who is he?" I asked.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
"Who is he?" I asked.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
"Who is he?" I asked.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
"Who is he?" I asked.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
"Who is he?" I asked.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
"Who is he?" I asked.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"Who is he?" I asked.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
"Who is he?" I asked.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
"Who is he?" I asked.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
"Who is he?" I asked.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
"Who is he?" I asked.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
"Who is he?" I asked.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
"Who is he?" I asked.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"Who is he?" I asked.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
"Who is he?" I asked.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
"Who is he?" I asked.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
"Who is he?" I asked.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
"Who is he?" I asked.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
"Who is he?" I asked.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
"Who is he?" I asked.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
"Who is he?" I asked.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
"Who is he?" I asked.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
"Who is he?" I asked.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
"Who is he?" I asked.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
"Who is he?" I asked.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
"Who is he?" I asked.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
"Who is he?" I asked.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
"Who is he?" I asked.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
"Who is he?" I asked.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
"Who is he?" I asked.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
"Who is he?" I asked.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
"Who is he?" I asked.
"Who is he?" I asked.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
"Who is he?" I asked.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
"Who is he?" I asked.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
"Who is he?" I asked.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
"Who is he?" I asked.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
"Who is he?" I asked.
"Who is he?" I asked.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"Who is he?" I asked.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
"Who is he?" I asked.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
"Who is he?" I asked.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
"Who is he?" I asked.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
"Who is he?" I asked.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
"Who is he?" I asked.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
"Who is he?" I asked.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
"Who is he?" I asked.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
"Who is he?" I asked.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
"Who is he?" I asked.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
"Who is he?" I asked.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
He smiled. "Come get your future. If you dare."
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
"Who is he?" I asked.
The Forgotten Heir opened the box. Light spilled out—blinding, golden, but laced with screams.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
"You forgot us," he said. "The versions that screamed for justice but never got it."
Solenne backed away, trembling. "He wasn't supposed to appear unless the timeline was completely broken."
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
Version_Zero turned to me. "If he takes it, you cease to exist. Every timeline you survived gets overwritten."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
The bridge cracked further. The glyph pulsed blood-red.
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
From the tear in the world stepped a boy. Sixteen. Maybe seventeen. Same hair. Same eyes. But glowing with timelines that hadn't even happened yet.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
"Who is he?" I asked.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
"You fight yourself," Solenne said. "Again."
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
Time bent inward. The throne began to rise—not from stone, but from the memories of every version who had died before reaching it.
> System Note: Box contains paradox core. All outcomes fatal.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
"So what do I do?" I whispered.
I felt it then—the war inside the glyph. The system couldn't decide who the true heir was anymore.
"Version_999," the system replied. "Designation: The Forgotten Heir."
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.
Version_999 raised his hand. Not to strike. To judge.
He looked at me like I had murdered him before he was born.