CHAPTER 30
The silver dust of the slain Era-Eater slowly drifted around Orion, settling like quiet snow onto the collapsing void-space. The cavern groaned. Cracks of light—thin as hair, bright as newborn suns—spread across the walls of erased time.
The world was rebuilding itself.
No…
The island was pulling him back.
A deep vibration rolled beneath the emptiness. Reality bent, then snapped, and the void shattered like brittle glass. In the blink of an eye—
Orion was standing on stone.
Not ordinary stone.
A vast circular platform made of overlapping runes, constellations, and spiraling lines of silver-gold energy. The air smelled of ancient sunlight and drowned darkness. Waves crashed somewhere far above, muffled and distant, as though he were miles beneath the sea.
Ahead of him stood the Door.
A monolith of impossible architecture—
a colossal black slab taller than mountains, carved with swirling galaxies and rings of chronal light. It pulsed like a sleeping heart. The surface crawled subtly, shifting symbols that looked like languages from eras that never existed.
He'd never seen it before.
But his wings reacted instantly.
The six Space wings tightened, feathers folding like blades.
The six Time wings trembled slightly, scattering afterimages that flickered into thousands of possible futures.
His right eye burned.
His left eye pulsed.
This door was connected to him.
Connected to his Domains.
Connected to the voice.
A soft, feminine whisper slipped through the air again:
"You've come far, Orion…"
His jaw clenched.
There was no wind.
No presence.
No shadow.
Yet her voice sounded as though she stood inches behind him—breathing into the back of his neck, brushing against old scars he didn't know he had.
"Stop hiding," he said quietly.
The runes on the door brightened, lines of glowing gold flowing like liquid down its surface. The air thickened, vibrating with pressure. Light flared, faint mist rising from the ground.
Then—
A figure stepped out.
Not from behind the door.
Not from the shadows.
Not from a portal.
She stepped out of time itself.
Her form solidified like a painting being filled from the inside: white hair, faint space-fractures around her feet, eyes that shimmered like dying sunsets—half light, half shadow. She looked young, but her presence carried millions of years.
Orion recognized the pressure instantly.
The woman from earlier.
The one who froze the ocean.
The one who commanded the storm.
But…
She was stronger now.
More complete.
More real.
She approached, footsteps echoing on the rune-stone with a soft, rhythmic beat.
"You survived," she murmured, faintly pleased. "Good. I hoped you would."
Orion's wings flared slightly behind him.
"You knew the Era-Eater was down there."
"Yes."
"You sent me to kill it."
"Yes."
"And now you want me to open that door."
She lifted her chin toward the towering monolith.
"Yes."
His eyes narrowed.
"Why?"
For a moment, she didn't answer.
The silence thickened.
The runes on the ground dimmed, as if waiting for her words.
When she finally spoke, her voice felt older—like something buried beneath layers of memory.
"Because that door is sealed with your power."
Orion's chest tightened.
"My power? I've never been here."
She stepped closer.
"You have."
His wings stiffened.
A chill crawled down his spine.
She wasn't lying.
Every instinct screamed that she wasn't lying.
The woman lifted her hand, pressing her palm gently against the massive door. Light rippled outward from her fingers, tracing ancient spirals.
"You opened this door once," she whispered. "Long ago. In a timeline that no longer exists."
His heart thudded sharply—
because the air around them twisted with the weight of erased memories.
"But when that timeline collapsed…" she continued, eyes softening, "…the door sealed itself again and waited for the one who carried your soul."
Orion took a slow breath.
"So the door… is calling me?"
"It has been calling you since the day you awakened."
Her voice grew almost tender.
"It remembers you—
even if you don't."
The runes on the ground brightened with a sudden surge, reacting to Orion's presence. Lines of silver light shot from the platform toward the door, forming a geometric pattern that locked around his feet.
The door responded with a deep hum.
BOOM.
The entire chamber shook.
Galaxies carved on the monolith rotated.
Time ripples pulsed outward.
The woman stepped back.
"It's awakening. You must act quickly."
Orion stared at the door—feeling the same headache, the same pressure, the same echo he felt the first time he saw her.
"What's behind it?" he asked.
Her expression changed.
Not fear.
Not excitement.
But something heavier.
"Your beginning," she whispered.
He didn't have time to question further—
because the door suddenly roared, a deafening cosmic vibration bursting outward as cracks of light exploded across its surface.
It was opening.
With or without him.
Orion inhaled deeply, wings spreading wide, cosmic energy rising like a storm around him.
"Fine," he said. "Then let's see the truth."
He stepped forward—
toward the door that remembered him,
toward the voice that knew him,
toward the past he never lived.
The runes locked into place.
The monolith swayed.
Time screamed.
The Door of Forgotten Origins began to open.