Ezra didn't hesitate.
The void screamed as the formless entity descended upon him, a tide of existence that had never been. The weight of its presence alone was enough to crush weaker beings. But Ezra was no longer bound by those rules.
He lifted his hand—and the Throne of the Forgottenresponded.
A pulse of black and silver exploded outward, colliding with the descending force. The moment they touched, the air ripped apart, the battlefield itself unable to comprehend the forces at war.
[System Alert: Irreconcilable Existences Detected]
[Warning: Cycle Core Intervention Possible]
Ezra gritted his teeth as his vision fractured. Time no longer moved forward—it looped, reversed, shattered, trying to erase the moment before it could fully form. The Cycle itself was interfering.
The entity spoke again, but its voice did not come from a single place. It was everywhere—behind him, above him, inside him.
"You are not meant to exist."
Ezra let out a breath, forcing himself to smirk. "Yeah? Neither were you."
His fist clenched, and the Throne pulsed again. This time, it did not resist.
It obeyed.
The Forgotten Path erupted beneath him, shadows rising like jagged spires, forming an impossible reality that fought against the natural order. The entity faltered for the first time, its shifting form distorting, as if struggling to remain intact.
Liora barely held her ground, her body trembling under the sheer weight of forces that should not exist. She forced herself to look at Ezra, at the man who was no longer just a defier of fate—but something new.
The Forsaken King was rewriting the battlefield itself.
Ezra took a step forward, and reality followed his command.
The entity pulsed, its presence expanding and contracting at once, like the very concept of its being was unstable.
It did not move like a creature. It did not fight like an enemy. It was a law of existence given form, an enforcer of an order that had never been broken before.
Yet Ezra was breaking it.
A thousand possible futures snapped into place before him, flickering like shattered glass. In some, the entity crushed him with sheer conceptual weight. In others, Ezra devoured it instead. But none were certain. Not anymore.
Ezra lifted his sword. The blade shimmered, no longer made of steel, but of possibility itself—an edge forged from the contradictions that made him real.
"Let's see if you can still speak after I rewrite you out of existence."
The entity did not flinch. It did not react with anger or fear. It simply responded.
And the final battle truly began.
The void cracked as Ezra lunged forward, his sword meeting nothing and everything at once. His strike landed, but there was no wound, no damage—only a ripple in the very structure of reality itself.
The entity retaliated.
A wave of nothingness surged toward Ezra, swallowing the space between them. He barely had time to counter before the attack bypassed his defenses, not hitting his body, but his very existence.
[Warning: Existential Integrity Reduced to 64%]
Ezra staggered, feeling the weight of being undone press against him. It wasn't an attack in the physical sense—it was the world rejecting him, trying to correct the mistake of his existence.
Liora screamed, rushing toward him, but the entity's gaze shifted toward her.
Ezra's eyes widened. It was acknowledging her.
A tendril of shifting unreality lashed out, aiming for Liora's chest. Ezra didn't think. He moved.
In an instant, the battlefield collapsed inward, bending around his will. The Forsaken Path reformed beneath him, a jagged fortress of his own making, severing Liora from the attack just before it could reach her.
She gasped, looking at him with shock and fear. "Ezra…"
He wiped the blood from his lip and smirked. "You didn't think I'd let it have you, did you?"
The entity pulsed again, and this time, Ezra felt it.
It was adapting. Learning.
It would not stop until he was erased.
[Authority Clash Escalating]
[Reality Unraveling Beyond Repair]
Ezra exhaled sharply, gripping the armrest of his throne as the world fractured further.
The battlefield twisted around them, folding upon itself, reshaping into something unrecognizable. The laws that held reality together were crumbling under their battle, creating shifting spaces where time ran in reverse, where gravity was meaningless, where nothing followed any rule but the one Ezra willed into existence.
The entity's shifting form solidified, if only for a moment. Ezra saw something—a glimpse of a shape that shouldn't have been possible. A paradox given form, something that had been watching far longer than he realized.
It raised a hand, and for the first time, it did more than erase.
It created.
A weapon unlike any Ezra had ever seen—not a blade, but a concept made manifest, something that cut not through the body, but through the idea of being itself.
[System Alert: Absolute Conceptual Weapon Detected]
[Impact Will Result in Total Erasure]
Ezra's smirk widened. "Finally taking me seriously?"
The entity lunged.
Ezra met it head-on.
Their attacks collided, and the universe itself shattered.
The moment their attacks met, reality screamed.
A pulse of annihilation erupted at the point of impact, swallowing space and time into a vortex of unmaking. Ezra's body trembled as he felt the pressure of absolute destruction threaten to erase him from existence. But he held his ground.
The entity pushed forward, its weapon of conceptual severance slicing through the fabric of being itself. Ezra twisted, dodging an attack that didn't move through space, but rather erased the possibility of him being there.
It was fighting on a level beyond strength, beyond magic, beyond any system-defined battle.
Ezra grinned.
"About time."
The Throne of the Forgotten pulsed beneath him, its authority flowing into his body, reshaping him into something more than what he was. His blade shimmered, no longer steel, no longer bound to mortal concepts of weaponry.
It was the blade of the Forsaken King, a weapon that did not destroy, but instead rewrote.
Ezra swung—and the battlefield changed.
One moment, they were locked in the void beyond fate. The next, the world around them shifted.
They stood atop a ruined battlefield—a war that had never happened, yet always had. Corpses of kings, shattered crowns, and faded weapons littered the ground. The sky above them was fractured, reflecting countless possible futures, all screaming as they collapsed upon themselves.
The entity stopped, its shifting form flickering.
Ezra laughed. "Surprised? This isn't your battlefield anymore."
He spread his arms wide. "It's mine."
The very world obeyed his command. He was not bound by fate, by time, by law. He was the Forsaken King, and this realm was his domain.
The entity pulsed in response, and Ezra felt something… odd.
A shift.
Not in the battlefield. Not in the cycle.
But in him.
His body flickered, just for a second, his form phasing between existence and something unwritten.
[System Warning: Anomalous Identity Conflict Detected]
[Correction Attempt In Progress…]
Ezra's eyes narrowed. He didn't like that.
Not one bit.
The entity lunged, but this time, Ezra didn't retreat.
He charged forward, blade in hand, ready to carve his own law into reality.
The impact rippled across dimensions, a clash of raw authority and defiance. The battlefield buckled under their combined force, tearing apart at the seams as time itself failed to keep up. Fragments of past and future worlds flickered into existence—castles floating in the sky, cities consumed by voidfire, entire civilizations erased before they could be born.
Ezra felt everything pressing against him, the weight of history's discarded failures, the echoes of kings who had tried and failed to sit upon this throne. He saw glimpses of their ends—some had been erased, some had been devoured, some had simply ceased to be.
But Ezra was not them.
And he would not fall like they did.
[Authority Sync: 87%]
[Adaptive Rewrite Enabled]
The Throne pulsed again, and this time, Ezra didn't just wield it—he commanded it.
A black corona of energy burst from his form, tendrils of forgotten laws twisting around his body as he forced the battlefield to stabilize beneath him. The very air warped under his will, reshaping into something new.
Ezra twisted his blade in his grip, his voice laced with amusement. "Come on. Surely a 'conceptual entity' can do better than this?"
The entity pulsed in response. This time, it did not attack. It expanded.
Its formless body stretched across the battlefield, consuming the very laws Ezra had established. It wasn't just adapting—it was becoming something new.
Ezra's smirk faded slightly. This thing wasn't just reacting. It was evolving.
The sky above rippled as something vast shifted within the void. Ezra had thought this was a battle between two forces.
He had been wrong.
This was a test. And the real challenge was only beginning.
The entity's voice resonated through the battlefield, for the first time taking on something almost like a shape.
"You believe yourself sovereign. You believe you dictate law."
The sky fractured, and Ezra felt the weight of something pressing down on him—a force greater than the Cycle, greater than the System.
"Then let us see if your throne can stand against the weight of true creation."
The world shifted again, but this time, it was not by Ezra's command.
[System Alert: Law of the Forgotten is Being Contested]
Ezra's eyes narrowed. "So, you're not just a system watchdog after all."
The entity's form twisted. "I am neither enforcer nor observer. I am the silence between laws. I am the gap where meaning collapses. And you, Forsaken King, are standing in my domain."
The battlefield trembled as something new took shape around them.
For the first time, Ezra felt an unfamiliar sensation—his own authority slipping.
The sky bled into endless white, a blank expanse devoid of history, devoid of memory. The corpses of kings, the fractured sky—all erased.
Ezra clenched his jaw. "So that's how it is. You're not just adapting—you're overwriting me."
The entity pulsed. "The moment you took the Throne of the Forgotten, you became part of the silence. Now tell me, Ezra Veyne—can you truly exist without a story?"
Ezra's fingers tightened around his blade. A flicker of his reflection danced across the blank world around them—and for the first time, he saw something that wasn't right.
For just a second, his reflection was someone else.
Someone he did not recognize.
[Critical Existential Conflict Detected]
Ezra exhaled slowly, his smirk returning. "Then let's find out."
And the war for existence had truly begun.