The room stood in eerie stillness, the very walls quivering under the weight of Nyreth's presence.
Reality thinned.
The air was heavy, sharp like glass, suffocating like deep space. But Jin didn't flinch. Even as celestial pressure threatened to collapse the space around them, he met the being's gaze with cold defiance.
"So," Jin said, voice steady, "Nyreth. You've been watching me all this time?"
The being's black halo shimmered—its edges dripping shadows that twisted unnaturally, crawling across the floor like whispers.
"Yes," Nyreth replied, tone neither warm nor cruel—only vast. "From the moment Lia's soul trespassed into this world. From the instant you were reborn, every strand of fate you severed… every god you dragged into ruin. I watched."
Jin's eyes narrowed. "Then you saw Olympus."
Nyreth nodded slowly. "I did. And it was... magnificent. But also—inevitable."
Jin frowned. "Inevitable?"
"You believed Olympus was your summit," Nyreth murmured, voice deepening like an ocean trench. "The final trial. But you've merely dismantled the top floor of a broken temple. The true gods... have yet to speak."
The shadows behind Nyreth twisted into shapes. Symbols. Memories.
Jin's breath caught. "Who?"
"The Monarchs."
At the utterance, the world shivered.
The lights dimmed.
The air grew colder, denser, as if time itself recoiled from the name. And somewhere deep inside him, Jin felt a recognition that didn't come from memory—but from existence itself. Like the world remembered for him.
Nyreth's voice became scripture, each word digging into the walls of reality:
**"They were not born.
They were not made.
They do not belong to creation, nor to the void beyond it.
They are not part of existence—
They are its fracture,
The scream buried in the silence of the stars,
The truths too unbearable for reality to remember.
To look upon them is to be rewritten.
To speak of them is to erode meaning itself.
To fight them is to be erased before your first breath.
They are not gods.
They are not demons.
They are not dreams.
They are the first narrators.
The authors of ruin and revelation.
The origin of epics, and the silence that follows every ending.
They are Monarchs."
Jin's fists clenched. "What did you say before… story?"
Nyreth's many eyes narrowed. "The very concept. The tale you believe you are part of. Cause and effect. Growth, fate, victory. The Monarchs can rewrite that. Erase that. Even reshape it. Each of them commands a law beyond imagination—a force that governs the skeleton of reality."
Then, he lifted his hand.
Six halos formed in the air—each pulsing with impossible geometry and emotion. As he spoke, they burned themselves into Jin's mind.
1. Myrrak'thal – Monarch of Dissonant Chaos
The First Monarch. The Prime.
His voice alone distorts logic and law. When he speaks, reality dissolves into madness.
2. Aurevian – Monarch of Balance
The Second Monarch. The protector who once sought equilibrium.
She sacrificed her essence to bind the strongest.
A martyr... and a father.
3. Vyrealis – Monarch of Silent Memory
Master of time echoes.
Sees all timelines, all endings. But speaks none.
The past kneels before him. The future dares not come.
4. Tharagon – Monarch of Blooming Rot
The fusion of decay and beauty.
Life, death, and rebirth sculpted into grotesque harmony.
Her garden blooms with corpses and stars alike.
5. Zhel-Vorah – Monarch of Endless Change
A paradox.
Killed infinite times. Reborn stronger with each death.
Evolution in purest form.
6. Solmiras – The Sleeping Star
The Last Monarch. Never awakened.
But should he rise…
Existence itself ends.
Nyreth raised his hand, and Jin saw—
A vision.
A battlefield not bound to space, but layered across reality itself. Monarchs clashed through broken laws. Each blow ruptured dimensions. Planets screamed as they died. Primordial gods fled like insects.
The very architecture of existence—its laws, colors, sounds—burned and twisted in that war.
And at the center, Aurevian—his body a collapsing sun—sacrificed himself to imprison Solmiras and Others. A martyr's death. A divine act.
When the vision ended, silence returned. But the world no longer felt the same.
Nyreth stepped forward, his tone grim.
"The Convergence was never the end. It was a curtain. The Monarchs are awakening, Jin. And their war will not spare your world. But… Aurevian left something behind. Not hope. Not power. A heir."
Jin's eyes flickered. "Who?"
Nyreth turned, his many eyes opening fully—light spilling through dimensions.
"Someone close to you."
"And if the Monarchs rise again, this world will not survive…"
"…unless its new King ascends."