Aiden's fingertips brushed the glowing scale—
—and the universe screamed.
Not aloud.
Not with sound.
With memory.
A tidal wave of images and emotions crashed through him so violently his knees buckled. The Arena vanished. The dragon vanished. Even Yunaria's distant shout faded into a thin, meaningless echo.
Only light remained.
Light—and pain.
Aiden tried to pull his hand back—
—but the scale held him.
Or rather, his past held him.
The world around him melted into a swirling mass of color—
gold, red, obsidian, violet—
then snapped into place like glass reforming.
Suddenly, Aiden stood on a battlefield.
A battlefield of stars.
Burning constellations fell like meteors.
Planets shattered in the distance.
Rivers of stardust flowed like blood across the sky.
A colossal war raged between two forces:
The Celestial Sovereigns
—radiant beings clad in armor forged from nebulae—
and
The Oblivion Legion
—creatures of voidlight, their forms shifting like torn shadows.
At the center of it all stood a man.
A man wearing Aiden's face.
Older.
Sharper.
Eyes burning with the light of a thousand galaxies.
A crown of broken stars hovered above his head, orbiting like loyal satellites.
He lifted a hand, and starlight bent around him like a bowing army.
Aiden whispered, breathless:
"…that's me?"
But not him.
A version of him.
A mirror of a life erased.
The crowned version of himself—
The Lost King—
spoke with a voice carrying ages of exhaustion:
"Hold the line. Astraxion, Sear the Second Rift. Yunaria—cover the western flank."
Aiden flinched.
Yunaria?
He turned—
And there she was.
Not the Yunaria he knew.
No soft robes.
No gentle expressions.
This Yunaria wore armor of moonlight and flame, her wings unfurled like a pair of blazing comets. Her eyes were fierce, colder, older.
She wasn't following orders.
She was giving them.
And she wasn't Aiden's guide.
She was his general.
Past-Yunaria shouted across the battlefield:
"My King! The Void Sovereign approaches—!"
The ground (or sky?) trembled.
A vast shadow loomed over the starfield.
A creature so enormous it dwarfed planets emerged from the darkness—
its body a serpent of pure oblivion, scales made of dying memories, eyes like collapsing suns.
The Void Sovereign.
Aiden staggered backward.
"W–What the hell is that?!"
But the memory-version of him stood firm, lifting his arm as the crown above him ignited.
"Prepare the Erasure Counterseal."
Aiden blinked.
"The what—?"
Six massive sigils formed around the Lost King—
shimmering with the power to rewrite reality itself.
But the moment the sigils locked into place—
—the memory fractured.
The battlefield shook violently.
The stars were snuffed out like candles.
The Sovereign lunged—
And everything collapsed inward.
Darkness swallowed the scene whole.
Aiden tried to breathe—
but his lungs forgot how.
Tried to scream—
but his voice dissolved.
Then—
A hand grabbed his wrist.
A woman's hand.
Warm.
Familiar.
Gentle.
Aiden gasped as reality snapped back—
—and he found himself kneeling in the Celestial Arena again, trembling, drenched in cold sweat, fingers still touching Astraxion's glowing scale.
Yunaria knelt beside him, gripping his wrist so tightly her hands shook.
"Aiden—Aiden, look at me—breathe—follow my voice—!"
Aiden blinked, vision swimming.
The Arena stabilized.
The dragon towered above them like a cosmic monolith.
But Aiden could only stare into Yunaria's eyes—
Not the Yunaria from his memory.
This Yunaria.
The one who brought him here.
Who had been patient with him.
Who had guided him.
Who had protected him.
But now—
Now her face was pale as moonlight.
As if she had seen a ghost.
"Aiden," she whispered, voice breaking. "Wh–what did you see?"
He swallowed, throat thick with confusion.
"I… saw a war. Stars burning. And…"
He struggled for words.
"And… me. But not me."
Yunaria stiffened.
"I saw you too," Aiden continued. "You were… different. Stronger. Fiercer. You weren't my guide. You were my general."
Yunaria's wings trembled violently.
"Aiden—stop—don't go on—"
"I saw the Void Sovereign."
She flinched as if struck.
"And… something called the Erasure Counterseal."
Her eyes widened in horror.
"You remember that…?" she whispered. "Already…?"
Astraxion lowered its head again, rumbling.
"The scale accelerated his awakening more quickly than expected, Moonweaver."
Yunaria rounded on the dragon, fury shaking her voice.
"You reckless cosmic lizard! He wasn't ready—!!"
Astraxion snorted, flicking her aside with a gust of starlit breath (more annoyed than harmful).
"He called for truth. I answered."
Aiden pushed himself up, shaky but steady.
"Okay—someone explain. Why did I see a version of myself crowned like a king? Why was I fighting a cosmic monster? And why were you—"
He looked at Yunaria.
"—my general?"
Yunaria's lips parted.
Her eyes glistened.
But she didn't answer.
Astraxion did.
"Because you were the Archivist King, Aiden Cross.
The last sovereign of the Starbound Lineage.
The one chosen to guard the Archive of All Worlds."
Aiden froze.
"And," Astraxion continued, "the one whose death shattered the cosmos."
Yunaria shut her eyes as if bracing for a blade.
"Aiden," she whispered, voice barely audible,
"You died once.
Your entire world died with you.
And I…" Her voice cracked.
"…I failed to protect you."
Aiden's heart stopped.
"What…?"
Yunaria stepped back, as if terrified he would hate her.
"Aiden…
you were erased.
Completely.
No reincarnation.
No afterlife.
Nothing."
Astraxion's massive head lowered.
"Until we found a way. A forbidden way.
We rewove fragments of your soul through the Astral Gate and birthed you anew… in a different world… with your memories sealed."
Aiden's stomach twisted.
"Why…? Why do all this for me?"
Yunaria's eyes met his.
And for the first time since meeting her, Aiden saw real, raw vulnerability.
"Because you were our last hope," she whispered.
"And because I…"
Her voice broke entirely.
"…I swore an oath to follow you across any life, any world, any timeline. Even if you forgot me."
Aiden felt the Arena spin around him.
His past.
His life.
His death.
His rebirth.
This was too much.
He staggered.
Yunaria rushed forward, catching him before he fell.
"Aiden—hey—look at me—please—"
He forced himself to breathe, gripping her arms.
"…Yunaria," he whispered, "why didn't you tell me sooner?"
Her voice trembled.
"Because… every version of this story ends in you dying.
And I wanted… just a little more time before you remembered the fate waiting for you."
Astraxion rumbled.
"And now… the next memory is stirring."
Aiden swallowed hard.
"What memory?"
Astraxion's eyes flared.
"The memory of the one who killed you."
Yunaria grabbed Aiden's hand.
"No—he's not ready! It will tear him apart! Astraxion, STOP—!!"
But the dragon lifted its wings, starlight crackling across the Arena.
"The killer awakens as well. His return is already written."
Aiden's heartbeat pounded louder.
"Who…?"
Astraxion's voice echoed like a collapsing star:
"Your murderer was not the Void Sovereign."
Aiden's breath froze.
"It was someone closer.
Someone you trusted.
Someone who still walks the worlds."
Yunaria's face drained of color.
"No… don't tell him—don't—"
Astraxion finished:
"Aiden… you were killed by one of your own Archivist Guardians."
Silence.
Aiden's world cracked.