The corridor stretched endlessly before Asterion.
Mirrors floated in a void of starless darkness, each suspended by invisible threads of time and memory. They weren't just reflections—they were windows into entire universes he once ruled.
Valek followed behind him carefully, each step echoing far too loudly for comfort.
"This place…" Valek whispered, "it should not exist. You sealed it yourself."
Asterion didn't stop walking.
"That means I knew someone might one day force me to return."
As he passed the first mirror, the surface rippled—showing a younger version of himself. Taller. Harsher. Wearing armor forged from collapsed stars.
Valek swallowed hard.
"That… was you during the Era of Conquest."
Asterion stared at the image.
The younger him stood atop a battlefield of shattered moons, raising a sword taller than mountains. Entire armies knelt in terror.
Asterion whispered:
"I don't remember any of this."
Valek bowed slightly. "That Asterion conquered six universes in ten days."
Asterion blinked once.
"…Did I need a nap between them?"
Valek stared."…My King, you didn't sleep."
Asterion sighed. "That sounds about right."
He continued walking until he reached the second mirror.
This time, the reflection was not a battlefield—but a throne.
Asterion watched himself sit on a crystalline seat held together by raw Origin Force. Entire constellations bowed as he spoke laws into existence. His aura was calm, serene, and godlike.
"What era was this?" Asterion asked.
"The Era of Order," Valek replied. "You shaped the laws of physics for seven realms. Even time bent its knee."
Asterion felt something—just a flicker—like recognition.
A soft warmth in his chest.
A memory trying to return… but not yet strong enough.
He walked onward.
The third mirror trembled the moment he neared it.
Asterion froze.
This wasn't a past him ruling. It was him bleeding.
This Asterion stood in space, shirt torn, arm hanging by threads of divine muscle. Blood made of light dripped and burned holes through reality itself. Opposite him stood a shapeless mass of darkness—taller than galaxies, writhing with millions of eyes.
Valek's voice dropped to a shaken whisper.
"The Devourer… the moment it first wounded you."
Asterion touched the mirror lightly.
The Asterion in the reflection smiled despite the injury.
"You smile while fighting that thing?" Asterion muttered.
Valek nodded slowly. "You smiled because… it was the first challenge you found in ages."
Asterion felt his heartbeat thud once—heavy and ancient.
Then the mirror cracked.
Asterion raised an eyebrow."…Why did that happen?"
Valek backed up.
"My King, stand away from it—something is forcing its way through!"
Black smoke leaked from the fractured mirror. The reflection twisted, distorting into a trembling mass of corrupted Origin Force.
Asterion's eyes narrowed.
"Another Devoured One?"
Valek shook his head, terrified. "No… something stronger. Much stronger."
The mirror shattered completely.
From the shards rose a tall figure—humanoid, but only barely. Its body was composed entirely of swirling black symbols, constantly rewriting themselves. Its eyes were hollow spirals. Its mouth didn't exist.
But when it spoke, the corridor itself vibrated.
"O̸̢̽́̽r̷̭̚i̷̺͑̎g̸̜̐i̷̥̍͠n̴͚̊ ̴͙͝͡S̴̛̖ǒ̶̡̍v̶͓̾e̷̘̎r̷̜͗e̸͑͝ͅi̶̡̇̋ǵ̴̣n̶̜͗…"
Asterion stepped forward.
"You can speak?"
The creature's symbols warped violently as it took another step.
"Y̶o̶u̵ ̸s̴h̵o̶u̴l̵d̴ ̶n̷o̷t̸ ̸h̷a̸v̴e̵ ̸r̵e̸t̴u̶r̸n̴e̶d̶."
Its voice made Valek collapse to one knee, coughing up black blood.
Asterion lifted his hand.The pressure vanished instantly.
Valek gasped for breath."Thank you… my King…"
Asterion didn't respond.
His eyes were locked onto the creature.
"You're not fully formed," Asterion said. "You're a fragment."
The creature tilted its head.
"W̶e̴ ̷a̸r̶e̶ ̴a̵l̶l̵ ̵f̶r̸a̷g̶m̴e̸n̴t̷s̴.̸ ̶E̵v̵e̴n̵ ̸y̶o̷u̵.̵"
Asterion's eyebrow twitched.
"What do you mean by that?"
The creature's symbols flared, forming a burning sigil across its chest.
"W̸h̸e̸n̶ ̷t̷h̵e̵ ̴D̷e̷v̷o̵u̸r̷e̵r̷ ̴t̵o̷o̷k̴ ̶y̶o̷u̸r̶ ̵m̸e̵m̵o̸r̴i̷e̵s̵…i̷t̸ ̴s̶p̵l̴i̸t̶ ̷y̴o̶u̴r̶ ̸p̵o̵w̷e̴r̵ ̵t̸o̷o̵."**
Valek's head snapped up.
"What?! That's impossible!"
The creature ignored him.
"Y̵o̵u̵ ̵a̵r̸e̷ ̵o̸n̷l̶y̷ ̵t̴h̵e̶ ̴f̸i̴r̴s̸t̷ ̸f̵r̵a̸g̷m̵e̴n̶t̵.̸T̴h̵e̷ ̴w̴e̶a̶k̴e̵s̶t̵ ̶o̸f̵ ̷t̶h̶e̶m̷.̸"
Asterion stared blankly.
"…Weakest?"
Valek paled."My King, it's lying."
Asterion pressed two fingers against the creature's forehead.
"You invaded my memory lane. You interrupted my walk. That annoyed me."
The creature trembled.
Asterion leaned closer.
"…But calling me weak? That's bold."
The creature seized up as Asterion's Origin Force surged, filling the corridor with blinding white light.
"Y̷o̴u̷ ̴c̵a̶n̷n̷o̴t̷—"
It never finished.
Asterion erased it.
Not with destruction. Not with force.
With memory removal.
He removed it from having ever existed.
Valek collapsed again as the light faded.
Asterion exhaled slowly.
"That ability… I didn't even know I could do that."
Valek wiped his mouth. "It was a supreme technique, my King. One you invented during the final war."
Asterion tilted his head.
"So I keep inventing new powers… and forgetting them."
Valek nodded miserably.
"That is… correct."
Asterion examined his hand, flexing his fingers slowly.
"I see."
Then he turned to the now-empty frame of the shattered mirror.
And something small—barely visible—floated inside.
A glowing shard.
A fragment of pure memory.
Asterion reached out and touched it.
The world shook.
Images flashed in his mind—too fast to catch, too bright to understand. A throne of collapsing stars. A voice screaming his name. A hand touching his cheek gently.A tear falling on his shoulder.
And then—
A woman.
Standing on the edge of a dying world.
Starlight in her hair. Eyes like galaxies. Her hand reaching toward him.
"Remember me, Asterion…"
Asterion staggered, clutching his head.
Valek rushed forward. "My King?!"
Asterion breathed slowly, steadying himself.
"…I saw someone."
Valek's face tightened.
"Who?"
Asterion's voice lowered, softer than before.
"…Someone I think I loved."
Valek went silent.
The corridor dimmed.
The mirrors shifted.
And deeper in the void, something ancient stirred in response.
Asterion straightened, expression returning to cold calm.
"Let's keep going," he said.
His voice held something new.
Resolve.
"I want the rest of my memories back."
He took another step.
The corridor whispered with forgotten histories.
And the multiverse trembled.