Silence settled over the orchard after the last flicker of starlight died from the collapsing gate. The space around Aiden dimmed, not into darkness but into a soft, twilight-like calm — the sort of quiet where even air seemed afraid to breathe.
Aiden's knees buckled.
Not from fear.
Not from the pressure of the cosmic vision.
But from realization.
A moment ago, he had been in a universe-ending battle. Now he stood in a place untouched by death, protected by strange fruit trees that shimmered with starlight, their branches humming as though filled with celestial fireflies.
"…Where am I?" he whispered.
But the orchard answered first.
A soft, wooden creak echoed from deeper within. Leaves rustled despite the absence of wind. As Aiden straightened himself, his hand brushing the grass, he felt something unusual — the ground here felt warm, as if alive, pulsing with ancient memory.
He turned slowly.
Someone had been watching him.
A figure stood between two glowing trees — neither human nor spirit, but something in between. A tall man with bark-like skin that gradually shifted to flesh, hair like drifting pollen, and eyes that held star-maps behind them.
The being stepped forward, each movement releasing small flutters of golden dust.
"Astral winds brought you here," he said, voice calm, resonant. "The orchard rarely welcomes the living anymore."
Aiden swallowed. "You… you're the caretaker?"
The figure tilted his head, amused.
"In mortal terms, yes. I am Mythras, Keeper of the Celestial Orchard. Archivist of the World's Echoes. Listener of the Roots of Time."
Aiden blinked.
That was not a short introduction.
Mythras extended a hand to him — long-fingered, part wood, part glowing essence.
"You carry an echo," the caretaker murmured, eyes narrowing. "And not just any echo. A king's soul. A world's final imprint."
Aiden's heart dropped.
He knows.
He saw the memories. The destruction. The dragon. The throne. The erasure.
Aiden took a step back, legs trembling. "I… don't know what you mean. I'm not a king. I just—"
"—died in a collapsing world? Perished alongside the dragon that devoured destiny? Lost everything you were?"
Mythras' voice softened.
"I saw. I felt the resonance when you arrived."
Aiden clenched his fists.
He didn't want this.
Not the title.
Not the destiny.
Especially not the memories.
But Mythras raised a hand.
"Do not fear," the caretaker said. "If you wish, you may tell me nothing. The orchard does not demand stories. It restores them."
A small breeze — real this time — brushed between them, carrying the faint scent of starfruit and warm earth. Somewhere, distant chimes rang as more celestial fruit ripened on the branches.
Aiden forced himself to breathe steadily, his chest slowly relaxing.
"…What do you mean restore?"
Mythras gestured for him to follow.
As they walked deeper, Aiden noticed something — each tree bore fruits glowing with different lights: blue like oceans, red like magma, violet like nebulae. Some fruits flickered as if showing images. Some dimmed as though tired.
"These are memory-fruits," Mythras explained. "Each holds the story of a destroyed world. When a world dies, the final echoes drift here, captured by the orchard."
Aiden paused.
He stared up at a fruit glowing faint gold — a faint image pulsing in its core, like a tiny hologram of a city swallowed by swirling darkness.
His breath caught.
"…My world is here?"
Mythras turned slowly.
"Yes."
Aiden reached toward it — but a sudden jolt burned through his palm.
"Ah!" He pulled back.
"The fruit of an erased world rejects even its king," Mythras said quietly. "Especially one whose memory is incomplete."
Aiden's voice shook. "Incomplete…?"
The caretaker nodded.
"You saw fragments. But your soul hides more. Something — no, someone — sealed your true past."
Aiden froze.
In the vision, before the collapse, he had seen… a silhouette.
Soft, tearful.
Calling his name.
Reaching… before fading.
Yunaria.
The name echoed in his mind like a whisper from a forgotten life.
Mythras continued walking. "There is a reason you survived when your world did not. Why the Astral Gate dragged you through reality instead of letting your soul scatter."
Mythras stopped before a shimmering pond reflecting not water but starfields.
"It is because someone intervened."
Aiden followed his gaze.
The pond rippled — and Yunaria's face appeared on the surface.
Aiden stumbled backward, heart lurching painfully.
Her silver hair danced like moonlight. Her eyes — filled with regret — focused directly on him as though she knew he would someday look upon this moment.
Mythras placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
"She sacrificed something precious to send you here. A forbidden act. One that binds your fate to hers."
Aiden's throat tightened.
"Why… why would she do that?"
"Because you were important to her," Mythras answered. "More than your memories allow you to understand."
The image shifted — showing Yunaria's hand pressed to a glowing sigil as the world collapsed around her.
Aiden's eyes burned.
He didn't know her.
He knew her.
He wanted to forget her.
He wanted to remember everything.
Mythras let the vision fade.
"But you cannot rely solely on memories. A new world awaits, and with it, dangers that feed on the erased."
A sharp cracking sound echoed — like wood snapping.
Aiden turned.
One of the orchard's far trees flickered, its fruits trembling violently.
Mythras' expression darkened. "Oblivion Hunters… They've tracked your arrival."
The ground trembled.
Branches shook.
And then—
A shadow burst from between the trees.
Aiden gasped as a creature made of black fog and bone-like tendrils roared, its form shifting like living ink.
The caretaker stepped forward protectively. "Stay behind me!"
But the creature lunged toward Aiden instead.
Not Mythras.
Aiden.
Because it smelled something on him —
the echo of a destroyed world
the king's soul
the forbidden memory Yunaria saved.
Aiden stumbled, nearly falling as the creature's blade-like arm slashed where his head had been.
Mythras summoned glowing vines that wrapped the beast, but it tore through them with violent fury.
Aiden's heart hammered.
He had no weapon.
No training.
No power he understood.
But then—
His chest burned.
Not with fear.
With the same golden light from the collapsing throne room.
A symbol flared on his skin — the shape of a crown broken into three shards.
Mythras shouted, "Aiden! Move—!"
But it was too late.
The creature lunged again.
Aiden raised his hands instinctively—
And the orchard exploded with light.
Golden energy erupted from his palms like a miniature supernova, blasting the Oblivion Hunter away and digging a crater into the star-soaked soil.
Aiden collapsed to one knee, panting.
Mythras stared at him, eyes wide.
"…Impossible," the caretaker whispered. "The Crown of Erased Kings… awakened?"
Aiden shook, adrenaline coursing through him. "I don't… I didn't mean to… I don't know what that was—"
Mythras knelt before him, gripping his shoulders firmly.
"You are more dangerous — and more important — than even you realize."
Aiden looked up, fear and determination mixing in his gaze.
"What… am I?"
Mythras answered slowly, solemnly.
"You, Aiden…
are the last surviving king of an erased universe."
"And everything that destroyed your world… has begun hunting you again."