Max looked at the empty throne for a long moment before slowly shaking his head. "This throne… I am simply not ready for it," he said quietly, his voice carrying a trace of lingering unease.
Whether it was because his will was not yet strong enough or because he did not truly understand the throne's purpose, Max could not say. Perhaps it was both.
The throne was not something meant to be approached lightly, and the experience had made that painfully clear. Whatever role it played in the legacy of the Dimensional Keeper, it demanded a level of awareness and control that he had yet to achieve.
Choosing not to dwell on it any further, Max turned his gaze toward his clone. A troubling thought crossed his mind, one that sent a faint chill through him.
What would have happened if his clone had also been affected by the throne in the same way? If both of them had been pulled into that overwhelming peace at the same time, there would have been no one left to wake the other.
