Je no longer counted his steps.
Counting implies distance matters.
The void around him shifted like old paper folding into itself. The air tasted of burned constellations and collapsed oaths. He could feel the System again—distant, restrained, bruised from every time Je ignored its warnings.
[Seal Integrity: 96%]
[Remaining Locks: 2]
[Threat Level: Unclassified]
The System no longer ordered. It simply informed. Even it had learned caution.
A massive door drifted into existence before Je, carved from impossible angles, like architecture designed by something that refused symmetry. There was no keyhole. No handle. No lock. No key.
Je placed a hand on it.
The door did not open.
Instead, it recognized.
Symbols spiraled across its surface, ancient glyphs older than language itself. Not readable—only felt. A story compressed into one pulse of cosmic dread:
— A devourer once stood here.
— He had a key.
— He shattered it, so no one could follow.
— He thought it would protect them.
— It protected nothing.
— It only delayed the return.
Je exhaled.
"So this is the end of a lock."
A voice came from nowhere and everywhere at once. Not loud. Just inevitable.
"Locks do not end. They change ownership."
Je turned.
The speaker was a librarian of the cosmic backstage, draped in robes stitched from star-funerals. Their eyes were stitched shut, as though sight itself was a liability here.
"You seek the Third Key," the librarian said.
"The key that opens a door that never needed a lock."
Je frowned.
"I don't want to open it."
The librarian tilted their head, a motion heavy enough to bend lightless space.
"That is why it will let you."
Je felt the Crown above him flicker—just once.
Not eager.
Not proud.
Just waiting.
Je stepped back.
"I refuse."
The door pulsed.
Not angry.
Almost relieved.
Because refusal is a language the void understands better than obedience.
And Je realized something with a cold, creeping certainty:
He wasn't chosen because he was worthy.
He was chosen because he wouldn't want to be.
He turned away from the door.
And the door did not stop him.
Because it already knew the truth Je had not yet spoken aloud.
The final locks were not chains around him.
They were warnings around everyone else.