Li Chen's new "throne" sat atop a twisted temple, a monument made from the splinters of every story he'd shattered.
Stone steps melted into circuit-board pathways. The ceiling looped into itself. Gravity bowed to his mood.
Time did not flow here — it curled, stuttered, rewound, and bled.
He called it the Broken Nexus.
And in it, he was God.
Or so he told himself.
He sat with one leg draped over the armrest, hand propping up his head, eyes unfocused as narrative strands floated around him like lazy sparks. Each one was a discarded scene. A failed memory. A stolen monologue. Some glitched, some screamed, some replayed moments from his childhood that never truly happened.
"You made me this way…""You ruined my arc…""This was my story!"
The voices were endless.
He stopped responding hours ago.
Until—
The door opened.
There was no knock.
There was no announcement.
There wasn't even a door before Hei Long walked through it.
And yet… he did.
