Ezra remained seated on the Throne of the Forsaken, his golden eyes locked onto the presence before him. The figure no longer flickered between possibilities—it had taken a shape, but one that was still unresolved, as if the world itself was struggling to decide what it should be.
A paradox.
An anomaly.
Something that should not exist, yet did.
Ezra exhaled, the smirk on his lips lingering. "You're a lot calmer than most things that crawl out of the void. I'll give you that."
The entity tilted its head. Its presence was neither hostile nor welcoming—it simply was.
Then, it spoke. "You made this place."
Its voice was… familiar. Not in the way Ezra knew someone, but in the way something long buried clawed its way to the surface. The sensation prickled at the back of his mind, whispering of something he had forgotten—or had never known to begin with.
Ezra leaned forward slightly, resting his elbow on the armrest. "I did. And you're standing in it. Which begs the question—why?"
The entity said nothing. Instead, it turned, gazing at the city Ezra had forged from the remnants of unwritten histories. The structures stretched beyond the horizon, built from memories that had never existed, shaped by a will that had never been bound by fate.
The Forsaken Realm. His domain.
And yet, as the entity moved, the world responded to it.
Buildings shifted. Streets altered. The sky itself flickered, as if adjusting to accommodate something it did not recognize.
Ezra's fingers tightened slightly on the armrest. It was changing his world.
[System Warning: Reality Synchronization Still Incomplete]
[Adaptive Rewrite in Progress...]
His smirk faded slightly, replaced by something sharper. "I don't remember inviting you to shape my world."
The entity turned back to him, its expression unreadable. "Neither do I."
Silence stretched between them, thick with something unspoken.
Then, the entity did something unexpected.
It stepped closer.
Ezra didn't move, didn't flinch. He simply watched as the presence came within arm's reach of the throne, standing just before him.
"What are you?" he asked, his voice quieter now.
The entity tilted its head again, considering the question.
And then, in a voice that sent a shiver down Ezra's spine, it answered.
"I am the same as you."
Ezra's breath hitched for just a moment, an involuntary flicker of something he couldn't quite name. Not fear. Not surprise. Something deeper. Recognition.
The entity remained still, but Ezra could feel something unraveling in the space between them. Like the moment before a storm, when the air itself held its breath.
[System Alert: Foreign Identity Conflict Detected]
[Cycle Reference Missing…]
[This Being Has No Recorded Past.]
No past.
Ezra inhaled slowly, his mind racing. Everything had a history. Even anomalies—those who defied fate—had once belonged to something. Even he, with all his contradictions, had a before.
But this presence before him?
It had nothing.
No cycle. No system. No origin.
"Impossible," Ezra murmured, his fingers tapping once against the throne's armrest. "Nothing exists without cause."
The entity didn't respond with words. Instead, it raised a hand, and the world shuddered.
Ezra felt it—an unseen force pressing against his reality, against the very foundation of the Forsaken Realm. His city, his creation, resisted. The streets twisted, the mountains trembled, the air thickened as though the entire realm was trying to reject something foreign.
But something answered.
A ripple spread outward, an echo of something vast, a will separate from Ezra's own.
[Domain Stability Threatened]
[Foreign Will Intersecting With Forsaken Realm]
Ezra's golden eyes narrowed. "Now that's interesting."
The entity slowly lowered its hand, as if it had been testing something—and had found what it was looking for.
Ezra let out a low chuckle. "You're not just standing here, are you? You're claiming something."
The entity tilted its head once more, its expression unreadable. "As are you."
Ezra leaned forward slightly, a grin tugging at his lips. "So, what now? Do we fight over it? Or do we figure out just what the hell you are?"
For the first time, the entity took a full step back. Not in retreat, but as if it had made a decision.
"Neither."
Ezra blinked. "Neither?"
The entity shifted, its form flickering between countless possibilities, countless identities that had never existed—until, finally, it settled. Not as something entirely defined, but as something that had chosen to be.
Ezra saw its shape clearly now.
Human. And yet, not.
A being outside of everything—even the concept of time, even the bindings of fate. A true anomaly, not created by the system, not corrected by the cycle. Something that had never belonged to anything—and had no intention of starting now.
[Final Classification: ERROR]
[Designation: Undefined]
Ezra exhaled through his nose, amusement flickering behind his sharp gaze. "So that's how it is."
The entity spoke once more, its voice steady, unshaken.
"We are the same, Ezra Veyne."
The words hung in the air, like a thread waiting to be pulled.
Ezra's grin widened ever so slightly. "Then let's find out what that really means."
The Forsaken Realm trembled in response, but this time, Ezra wasn't the only one shaping it.
For the first time, another will was rewriting the world alongside his.
And that…
That changed everything.
The Forsaken Realm shuddered under the weight of two conflicting forces. Ezra could feel it—not just as a ruler, but as a creator. His world had been absolute, formed from his defiance against the cycle. Yet now, for the first time, it was shifting according to a will that was not his own.
The anomaly stood before him, its form almost human, yet flickering at the edges, its presence still refusing to be defined. It had no past. No future. It was outside the system, outside of fate—just like him.
Ezra exhaled, gripping the armrest of his throne. His golden eyes glowed faintly, reflecting the churning sky above. "If you think I'm going to share my throne with someone I didn't invite, you're mistaken."
The anomaly did not retreat. Instead, it simply existed, its presence pressing against reality itself.
"This world does not belong to you alone," it said, its voice calm, almost indifferent. "It never did."
Ezra felt a sharp pulse at those words, an unfamiliar sensation coiling in his mind—disagreement.
His reality did not argue. It did not resist. It did not seek validation.
Yet now, standing before him, was something that did not acknowledge his authority.
Ezra smiled, slow and sharp. "You don't seem to understand where you are. This isn't a realm built by fate or some grand system. This was forged by me. You?" His fingers drummed against the throne. "You're just a guest."
The anomaly studied him for a long moment before speaking. "Am I?"
Ezra's smirk faded slightly. He had dealt with correction forces, system enforcers, beings bound to the rules of the cycle. This was different. It wasn't here to erase him. It wasn't here to fight him.
It was here because it belonged here.
[System Alert: Dual Authority Detected]
[Foreign Influence Expanding]
Ezra's fingers tensed. The Forsaken Realm trembled again, the sky warping, the buildings twisting slightly, uncertain of whose will they should follow. His, or this entity's?
For the first time since creating this world, Ezra realized—
He wasn't the only one who could change it.
His golden eyes gleamed with something almost like amusement, almost like curiosity.
"So, tell me," he said, resting his chin on his knuckles, "if you're the same as me, what exactly do you want?"
The anomaly met his gaze, unblinking.
"To find out what happens next."
Ezra chuckled, low and dark. "Now that... I can respect."
And the Forsaken Realm continued to shift, shaped by two hands instead of one.
The sky above them churned, torn between two wills. Ezra could see the world struggling, not in pain, not in rejection, but in adaptation. It was rewriting itself in real-time, threading together a new foundation, one that had never existed in any system, any cycle.
[System Warning: Reality Anchor Instability]
[Correction Impossible: Undefined Variables Present]
Ezra tapped his fingers against the armrest, watching as the city changed. Streets that had once obeyed only his will now bent, adjusted, stretched into something neither his nor entirely the anomaly's. Structures he had never envisioned appeared, as if they had always been waiting to take shape.
A city between two rulers.
"You're interfering with my world," Ezra said casually. "Most things that try that don't last long."
The anomaly tilted its head slightly. "And yet, I am still here."
Ezra smirked. "For now."
The air between them tensed, a silent exchange of wills, of unspoken challenges. Ezra had faced gods, had stared fate in the eye and laughed—but this was different. This wasn't fate trying to erase him. It wasn't a system trying to correct him.
It was something entirely unknown.
And unknown things could be dangerous.
Or useful.
The anomaly's form flickered again, its presence pressing against the very bones of the Forsaken Realm. Ezra could feel it now, more clearly than before. It wasn't just here. It was part of the world, just as much as he was.
"You claim you are the same as me," Ezra said, his voice softer, but no less sharp. "But I didn't come from nothing. I had a past. A name. A reason to exist."
The anomaly blinked. "Did you?"
Ezra's smirk faltered—just slightly.
The anomaly took another step forward, closing the space between them, its gaze meeting his without hesitation.
"You remember a past. You remember a name. But how much of it was truly yours? How much of it was written for you, given to you by something you never questioned?"
Ezra's fingers curled against the throne's armrest, his mind racing. That was different. That was too much.
"Careful," he warned, his voice quieter now. "I don't take kindly to things that pry too deep."
The anomaly did not smile, did not gloat. It simply watched.
"Neither do I."
The Forsaken Realm shuddered once more, not in resistance, but in acceptance. The changes had stopped. The city had settled.
A balance had been struck.
Ezra inhaled, slow and steady. His expression returned to something unreadable, his golden eyes sharp.
"So, what now?" he asked, a glimmer of something dangerous behind his smirk. "Do we fight for it? Do we break this world apart trying to decide who it belongs to?"
The anomaly regarded him for a moment before shaking its head. "No."
Ezra arched a brow. "No?"
The anomaly's form flickered one last time, then stabilized. "We shape it. Together."
Ezra stilled. Together?
His first instinct was to reject the idea outright. The Forsaken Realm was his. His alone.
And yet, even as he considered that thought, he could feel it—the truth. This place was no longer just his. It never had been.
A slow smirk crept back onto his lips.
"Fine," he said, his voice laced with amusement. "But just remember one thing."
He leaned forward, his presence pressing against the anomaly's own, his smirk dark and sharp.
"This world is mine. If you want a part of it, you better be ready to fight for it."
The anomaly didn't flinch. It didn't falter. It simply smiled.
And the Forsaken Realm—
Changed.
New landscapes unfolded, possibilities stretching beyond either of their control. The world was no longer just an extension of Ezra's will.
It was becoming something new.