Ezra stood amid the ruins of what should not exist. The shattered remnants of the Fallen Sovereign's body faded into the void, its presence erased from history. Yet, something lingered—a weight upon the air, an unseen force pressing against reality itself.
The Forsaken Path trembled, its very essence quivering under the sheer impossibility of what had just transpired. The world had witnessed something it was never meant to see: a Sovereign falling not by the hands of fate, but by the will of an anomaly.
Liora clutched her dagger, breathing heavily as she glanced at Ezra. "You killed it. I didn't even think that was possible."
Ezra rolled his shoulder, glancing at the fragments of nonexistence dissolving before him. "Neither did it."
A ripple ran through the fabric of the void, a silent cry echoing through the decayed remnants of this forgotten dominion. The remaining Sovereigns watched, motionless, their forms flickering between presence and absence. They had existed outside of fate for eons. Now, for the first time, one of their own had been erased.
One of the figures stepped forward. Unlike the others, this one did not radiate hostility. Instead, there was something… calculating about the way it observed Ezra.
"You… are unlike the others."
Ezra tilted his head, sword still in hand. "That's the point."
The Sovereign's form pulsed. "You are an error. A paradox within paradoxes."
Ezra smirked. "That makes two of us, doesn't it?"
The Sovereign did not answer immediately. Instead, it slowly extended a hand toward the ground. The space beneath them shook, and from the darkness, something rose—a seat of twisted metal, woven from the remains of forgotten laws.
A throne.
[System Alert: Foreign Authority Detected]
[Designation: The Throne of the Forgotten]
[Warning: Claiming this throne will sever ties to the known cycle permanently.]
Liora stiffened. "Ezra… this might be a trap."
Ezra didn't move immediately. He stared at the throne, its presence pulsating, as if waiting for him.
He took a slow breath. A chance to sever fate's hold. A chance to rewrite everything.
His lips curled. "Then let's see what happens when I take my rightful seat."
And he stepped forward.
The moment Ezra's foot crossed the threshold, the void shuddered. A pulse rippled outward, distorting the very fabric of existence. The other Sovereigns did not intervene. They simply watched, their hollow gazes following his every movement.
The closer he came to the throne, the heavier the air became. It was more than just gravity—it was resistance. Something within the throne itself denied him, rejecting the very concept of his existence.
[Warning: Hostile Authority Detected]
[Error: Identity Conflict in Progress]
Ezra's vision flickered for a fraction of a second. He saw something else—a throne room, but not this one. A different place, a different time. A figure sat upon a darkened throne, its form familiar and yet unrecognizable.
A voice, layered with echoes. "You do not belong here."
Ezra's hand twitched, instinct screaming at him to step back. But he ignored it. He had come too far.
"Neither did you. And yet, here you are."
The vision fractured. The weight pressing against him grew unbearable, but Ezra refused to kneel. His hand reached forward, grasping the armrest of the throne. The moment his fingers made contact, the entire void howled.
[Forcible Recognition in Progress]
[Cycle Resistance Detected]
[Adaptive Override Engaged]
The throne fought him.
A force unlike anything before surged through his body. Not rejection. Not acceptance. Something worse—erasure. The throne was not simply testing him.
It was trying to unmake him.
Liora cried out, but she was too far. Ezra's grip tightened, every muscle in his body screaming in protest. The world blurred around him. Memories, identities, possibilities—all unraveling as the throne tried to cast him into nothingness.
But Ezra wasn't nothing.
He was an anomaly.
He was a contradiction.
And contradictions didn't break.
A pulse of black and silver erupted from his core, slamming into the throne. The Sovereigns flinched, their forms distorting as reality warped around them. The throne screamed, the pressure breaking, shattering, and then—
It accepted him.
[New Authority Recognized]
[Throne of the Forgotten Claimed]
[Cycle Severance: 90% Complete]
Ezra sank into the seat, breathing hard. The void settled, but the world around him had changed. He was no longer just a defier of fate.
He was now something outside of it entirely.
Liora rushed to his side, gripping his shoulder. "Ezra, are you—"
Her words caught in her throat. She pulled her hand back, staring at it as if it had passed through empty air.
Ezra stared at her, his smirk fading slightly. Something was wrong.
He glanced at his hands, at his reflection in the darkened metal of the throne's armrest.
His body was glitching.
[Error: Existential Instability Detected]
[Warning: Reality Synchronization Incomplete]
Ezra's mind spun. The throne had accepted him, but at a cost. He could feel it—he wasn't fully real anymore.
Liora took a step back, eyes wide. "Ezra… what did you just do?"
Ezra exhaled, a low chuckle escaping his lips. "I think… I might have broken myself."
The Fallen Sovereigns knelt.
The Forsaken King had claimed his throne.
And the world would never be the same again.
Then, the void answered.
A crack split through the sky above them, something moving beyond the rift—something watching. Ezra felt it before he saw it, a presence that had never belonged to this world. A voice, whispering from beyond the cycle itself.
"And so, another takes the throne. But does he understand what he has claimed?"
The darkness beyond the void shifted. Something was coming.
Ezra leaned back against the throne, his smirk sharpening.
"Then let them come."
Ezra exhaled as the weight of the Throne of the Forgotten settled around him. It wasn't just a seat. It was a force, an identity, a claim to something that no longer existed—something that should never exist again.
The Fallen Sovereigns stood motionless, their hollow forms flickering like dying stars. They did not bow out of loyalty. They bowed out of recognition.
Ezra had done what they could not.
Yet the air was thick with something unfinished. The moment he had taken the throne, the cycle itself had begun to unravel in ways even he had not anticipated. His body felt both solid and unreal, his existence twisting between something tangible and something… forgotten.
[System Alert: Cycle Disruption Expanding]
[Existence Status: Undefined]
Liora took a careful step forward, her voice low. "Ezra, we need to leave. This place—it's breaking apart."
Ezra barely heard her. His eyes were fixed on the rift above them—a gash in the fabric of reality itself, widening with each passing second. Something was moving beyond it. Watching. Waiting.
Then, for the first time, one of the Sovereigns spoke again. A voice, hollow and heavy with the weight of eternity.
"You have claimed what was lost. But do you understand the price?"
Ezra's smirk returned, though it was sharper now, laced with something colder. "Everything comes at a price. And I've never been afraid to pay it."
The Sovereign let out something that might have been a sigh—or a whisper of something far deeper. "Then witness what awaits you."
The rift shattered open.
A wave of unreality flooded through the space, and Ezra saw.
A city that had never been built.
A battlefield that had never seen war.
A throne room with no ruler, no time, no past, no future.
Memories that were not his burned into his mind—images of rulers before him, of anomalies who had tried and failed to defy fate. He was not the first.
But he was the only one still standing.
[Warning: Existential Contamination Reaching Critical Levels]
[Caution: Foreign Presence Detected]
The sky above fractured further, and something stepped through.
Not a being. Not a god. Not fate.
Something else. Something Ezra should not have been able to comprehend.
Liora gasped. The Sovereigns did not react. They had seen this before. They had known this would happen.
And then, it spoke.
"Forsaken King… do you truly believe you can exist beyond what was written?"
Ezra gripped the armrest of his throne, feeling reality warping around him.
His smirk deepened.
"Let's find out."
And the final trial began.
The presence that emerged from the rift did not have a form that could be understood. It was shifting, infinite, a paradox that should not exist but somehow did. The very air around it folded and twisted, light and shadow bleeding into one another as if the universe itself could not define what it was.
[System Error: Entity Classification Impossible]
[Cycle Response: Absolute Anomaly Detected]
Ezra narrowed his eyes. Whatever this was, it was unlike the Fallen Sovereigns. It was unlike the Cycle. It was something deeper, something that had been waiting.
The entity's voice came again, but it wasn't just sound. It was a concept, an understanding forced into Ezra's mind, as if it had always been there, buried beneath layers of forgotten history.
"You are the first to claim the throne in eons. Do you understand what it means?"
Ezra leaned forward slightly. "Why don't you enlighten me?"
The presence pulsed, and suddenly, Ezra was somewhere else.
A void without end. A place before existence.
Ezra stood in the abyss, but he was not alone.
There were others. Shadows of kings, rulers who had once sat where he sat now. They were hollow, forgotten, their voices mere whispers on the edge of nothingness. They had all claimed the throne.
And they had all failed.
One of the shadows stepped forward. Ezra could not see its face, only the outline of a figure once powerful. "You are walking a path that cannot be walked."
Ezra's fingers twitched. "And yet, here I am."
Another voice, sharper. "Every ruler before you thought the same. Every ruler before you was erased."
Ezra tilted his head. "Then I'll just have to be different."
The voices laughed, but it was not humor. It was something closer to pity.
"We all thought that too."
Reality snapped back into place. Ezra was in the throne room again, his breath sharp, his body aching. He gritted his teeth.
[Existential Integrity: 78%]
[Warning: Reality Synchronization Instability Rising]
The entity hovered before him, still formless, still unknowable.
"You are the Forsaken King, but you are not yet beyond fate." It pulsed, and for the first time, its voice sounded almost… interested. "Show me why you deserve to exist."
Ezra's grin returned, slow and sharp. He flexed his fingers, feeling the weight of the throne beneath him, the power of the forgotten woven into his being.
"Alright then," he muttered, rising to his feet. "Let's see if you can kill me like all the others."
The void rippled, and suddenly the formless entity shifted. It was no longer just a presence—it was something aware, something reacting. The remnants of the Forsaken Path, the throne, the Sovereigns—all of it was being rewritten in real time.
A wall of black and silver descended upon Ezra, the weight of an existence that had never been crushing him. Time blurred. His vision fractured.
[Final Cycle Correction Attempt Initiated]
[Warning: Absolute Authority Conflict]
Ezra grinned wider.
"Let's break another rule, shall we?"
And with that, the Forsaken King fought the impossible.