Aiden's heartbeat thundered in his ears, each thump echoing like a drum against the chamber walls.
"Something from my world… is following me?" he whispered.
Mythras shifted uneasily, the cracks in his bark deepening. "I hoped it was only a rumor. A distortion. But the Hunters' aggression… the way they reacted to your presence… it confirms it."
Seraphyne circled slowly, scanning the shifting constellations along the walls. "The Archive's wards flickered when you arrived. Something touched them. Something ancient."
Her eyes narrowed.
"Something wrong."
Aiden stepped back unconsciously. "Tell me what it is."
Mythras hesitated — a dangerous hesitation.
Seraphyne answered instead.
"It's called The Last Memory."
Aiden frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"
Mythras finally spoke, voice low and trembling.
"It is the final surviving fragment of a destroyed world. A remnant that refuses to die."
Aiden felt a chill crawl up his spine. "And it's… following me?"
Seraphyne nodded once.
"Like a wounded animal searching for its master."
Aiden's throat tightened. "Why me?"
Mythras stared at the floor. "Because you're not only the last king of your world…"
He looked up — his expression heavy.
"You are the only living piece of it left."
Aiden staggered backward until his shoulders hit the wall.
Seraphyne added, "The Last Memory… if it reaches you, it could overwrite everything. Your mind. Your identity. Your existence. It could even drag the Archive into collapse."
Aiden clenched his fists. "So what do we do? Run? Hide?"
"No." Seraphyne kept watching him, gaze sharp. "We hunt it."
Mythras winced. "Seraphyne, that is not an option—"
"It is the only option," she snapped. "If we wait, it will find him. And when it does, this entire sanctuary will fall."
Mythras sighed heavily. "Aiden needs training before facing something like that."
"We don't have time," Seraphyne said coldly.
Aiden stepped forward, jaw clenched. "Stop talking like I'm not here."
Both guardians froze.
Aiden's voice shook, but it carried strength beneath the fear.
"My world is gone. Everything I've ever known? Gone. Yunaria's telling me not to trust you, something is chasing me, Hunters want me dead—" He swallowed, hard. "So tell me the truth. All of it."
The constellation walls dimmed, as if listening.
Mythras closed his eyes. "Very well. But not here."
He pressed his palm to one of the archways.
A doorway made of swirling stardust opened, revealing a long corridor lined with gravestones— no, not gravestones. Pillars. Each carved with symbols representing a world that no longer existed.
Aiden's breath hitched.
Seraphyne walked ahead silently. "This hall is called the Path of Echoes."
The pillars hummed softly as Aiden passed them, each one resonating with distant whispers.
Mythras spoke gently, "Every pillar is a memory vault. And these vaults store the final echo of worlds the Archive once preserved."
Aiden brushed his fingers against a pillar. A soft light pulsed beneath his hand— as if the stone recognized him.
He stepped back in shock.
Seraphyne observed quietly. "The vaults respond to you. It means the crown accepts you as its rightful bearer."
Aiden looked down at his chest. The faint sigil pulsed once — almost like a heartbeat.
Mythras continued, voice heavy with centuries of regret.
"When a world dies, the Archive normally carries its remnants to a peaceful end. But your world…" He paused. "…your world did not die cleanly."
Aiden's jaw tightened. "Then tell me how it died."
Mythras' silence stretched — until Seraphyne answered for him.
"Your world was not destroyed by natural collapse. It was erased."
Aiden's entire body went cold.
"Erased… by who?"
Seraphyne stopped walking.
She turned slowly.
And the name she spoke sent a shiver through the entire corridor.
"Astraxion."
Aiden felt the air leave his lungs.
The great cosmic dragon.
The devourer of dying stars.
The creature that appeared in his dreams.
Mythras continued, "Astraxion consumes worlds on the verge of collapse to maintain cosmic balance. It ensures that chaos does not spread." He looked away. "But your world was different."
Seraphyne's voice was icy.
"Your world wasn't collapsing. It was… taken. Ripped from existence. And Astraxion devoured the remains."
Aiden shook his head. "No. No, I saw it— You're telling me my world was eaten?!"
"Worse," Seraphyne said softly. "It was devoured while you were still inside it."
Aiden stiffened, trembling.
Mythras added, "You survived something no king, no archivist, no creature ever survived. But in doing so… you became an anomaly."
Aiden pressed a fist to his forehead. "If Astraxion did this… why am I alive?"
Seraphyne stepped closer, lowering her voice.
"Because someone saved you. Someone pulled you out of the dragon's maw before your existence was processed."
Aiden's breath caught.
"Yunaria."
Mythras nodded slowly. "She used an ancient art — Memory Severance. She cut your fate away and hid it."
Aiden felt dizzy, like the floor beneath him had tilted.
Seraphyne's eyes softened — barely.
"She saved you. But it also marked you. Astraxion still senses what was meant to die but didn't. That is why the Last Memory stirs. That is why the Hunters chase you."
Aiden's voice cracked.
"So I'm being hunted by my own world's ghost… and a cosmic dragon… and a faction in this Archive might want me dead?"
Seraphyne answered simply:
"Yes."
Aiden let out a shaky laugh.
"Great. Fantastic."
But Mythras placed a firm hand on his shoulder.
"You are alive, Aiden. That alone is a miracle. And miracles reshape destiny."
Aiden looked up at him.
"…What do I do now?"
Mythras opened his mouth to answer—
—but the hallway lights flickered.
Seraphyne froze. "What was that?"
Aiden stepped back. "The Hunters?"
"No," Mythras whispered, his voice trembling.
"This is worse."
A crack appeared in the stone pillar beside Aiden— thin, jagged, glowing black.
A whisper seeped out.
A voice Aiden recognized.
> "Aiden…"
Aiden's stomach dropped.
"Mythras… that voice… I know that voice."
Mythras paled. "No. No— not here—"
The crack widened violently, spilling darkness across the corridor floor like ink spreading through water.
The whisper grew louder.
> "I found you…"
Aiden stumbled backward as a shape crawled out of the crack — a human silhouette, broken, blurred, trembling like a corrupted memory.
Seraphyne drew her bow instantly.
"The Last Memory is here."
The silhouette raised its head.
Its face flickered—
—and Aiden's heart shattered.
Because the figure looked exactly like—
Aiden himself.
Broken.
Erased.
Twisted by the void.
Mythras shouted, "AIDEN, STAY BACK!"
The distorted figure reached toward him, voice cracking like shattered glass.
> "Return… to me…"