Chapter 44
The chamber didn't simply shake.
It collapsed inward, like a dying universe folding into a single impossible point, struggling to contain the two beings who were never meant to stand in front of each other.
The instant the past Orion—
the erased sovereign, the Stage 0 that once ruled the island—
moved,
existence tore open.
A lash of silver-black energy flicked through the air so fast it left a scar in reality itself.
The throne of Paradox flared, generating shields of twisted space to protect itself.
Current Orion parried the attack with his arm—
and the shockwave sent him skidding backward, gouging a trench in the cosmic floor.
Past Orion lowered his hand, eyes cold.
"You're slower than I remember."
Current Orion's twelve wings opened wide, cosmic winds spiraling behind them.
"Then remember differently."
He vanished.
Not teleported—
but stepped across layered timelines at once.
His claws slashed downward—
PARADOX REND.
The chamber split in two.
The monoliths orbiting the room were sliced cleanly, their fragments hanging in the air like frozen meteors.
But past Orion raised one finger.
Time reassembled everything instantly.
"You imitate my techniques," he said.
"But you lack the origin."
Current Orion snarled. A gravitational distortion erupted beneath his feet as he launched upward—
STARFALL ERASURE!
Thousands of collapsing white dwarf stars rained from his wings, crashing down in continuous blasts that annihilated the chamber's upper layers.
Past Orion stepped through the falling stars unharmed.
None of them touched him.
He wasn't dodging.
Reality simply refused to let him be hit.
"Do you know why your attacks pass through?"
His voice echoed calmly.
"I am the paradox. You are the consequence."
He flicked his wrist—
And time shattered.
Not froze.
Not slowed.
Not reversed.
Shattered.
Current Orion fell through pieces of broken seconds, his body sliced by jagged fragments of reverse-moving time.
Blood—dark silver—dripped into zero-gravity, crystallizing into tiny galaxies.
But Current Orion didn't hesitate.
He tore open his own wound, ripping time fragments out with a roar—
And the chamber trembled as he invoked it:
ETERNAL PARADOX ASCENSION.
Black-white rings erupted behind him, forming a halo of spiraling cataclysm.
His eyes glowed like twin collapsing stars.
His wings expanded, triple their size.
He didn't wait.
He moved first.
Space folded into a spear ahead of his charge—
DIMENSIONAL SEVER.
He struck the past self directly—
And for the first time—
Past Orion slid back.
Not far.
Only an inch.
But his foot touched the ground.
Current Orion's gaze sharpened.
"You can bleed."
Past Orion looked up, amused.
"I can," he admitted.
"But you should ask—"
He blurred.
Current Orion didn't see the attack—
only the aftermath.
A spiraling wound carved through his chest, nearly bisecting him.
His vision flickered as his body fought to reassemble.
Past Orion's voice finished:
"—can you?"
He swung his arm again—
And the throne itself intervened.
A shockwave burst outward from the throne of Paradox, as if refusing to let its two rightful kings destroy the chamber completely.
It forced both Orions apart, throwing them to opposite ends of the star-lit interior.
Past Orion exhaled, wings shifting.
"You're irritating me."
His tone sharpened.
"You're refusing what every version of you accepted."
Current Orion wiped silver blood from his chin.
"I'm not them."
"No," past Orion agreed softly.
"You're not."
He lifted his hand—
And the air thickened.
The temperature dropped.
The throne dimmed.
The monoliths stopped spinning.
Time.
Space.
Gravity.
Light.
Darkness.
All froze.
Not momentarily—
utterly.
Current Orion felt pressure crush down on him—
not like a mountain,
but like an entire forgotten universe—
The past Orion's true power leaked out.
Not Stage 0.
Not even above the Pillars.
The power of something else.
Something that shouldn't exist.
"You wanted a fight?"
His smile deepened.
"Then survive this."
He vanished.
Current Orion didn't react fast enough.
A dozen blows struck simultaneously—
each from a different timeline—
past, future, parallel, abandoned, erased, hypothetical.
The attacks collided inside his body rather than outside.
His wings cracked.
His ribs shattered.
His vision warped.
BOOM—BOOM—BOOM—BOOM—BOOM—
Explosions of paradox energy detonated entirely within him, tearing his organs apart faster than his regeneration could repair them.
Past Orion stepped behind him.
And whispered in his ear:
"You and I cannot both exist."
Current Orion snarled, silver blood pouring from his mouth.
"You think I'll die?"
"I know you will."
Past Orion raised his hand to finish it—
But something changed.
The gate behind the throne—
the one carved with the wounded infinity symbol—
pulsed with a deep heartbeat.
Past Orion froze.
Current Orion's nebula veins glowed violently.
The chamber shook.
The monoliths cracked.
The throne vibrated.
The island awakened—
and chose.
A voice spoke.
The same feminine voice from before.
The blurred woman.
The mother intertwined with the island's heart.
"No," she whispered softly.
"You do not kill him."
Past Orion's eyes widened.
"…you."
Current Orion forced himself to stand.
Through blood, pain, and paradox, he glared at his erased self.
"You said the throne demands we merge."
"Yes," past Orion said slowly.
Current Orion breathed hard.
"Good."
The past self hesitated.
"…What are you planning?"
Current Orion stepped forward—
body breaking, aura trembling, wings cracking—
but determination burning brighter than any paradox.
"I'm not letting you replace me."
His eyes blazed white-black.
"And I'm not letting you vanish either."
Past Orion's expression hardened.
"You can't have it both ways."
Current Orion smirked.
"Watch me."
He grabbed his past self's wrist.
The world exploded.
The throne shattered.
The canyon collapsed.
The heartbeat roared.
The island shook—
As both Orions were swallowed by a vortex of paradox light, pulling them toward the inevitable:
the merge.