Ayan remained silent for a while after the figure's warning. The crimson doorway continued hanging above the mountains, filling the sky with red light while countless shadows drifted within its depths. Earlier, he had assumed those shadows were the greatest threat facing reality. Now he wasn't so sure. The End was terrifying enough on its own. Learning that humanity might have restarted Genesis somehow made the situation feel even worse.
The bridge pulsed beneath his skin as he stared into the darkness beyond the fracture. Ever since the figure revealed the truth about Genesis, the memories had become more frequent. They no longer arrived as isolated flashes. Instead, they felt connected, like fragments of a larger story slowly assembling itself inside his mind. The process was unsettling. Every answer seemed to reveal three new questions.
Lucien appeared lost in thought as well. The silver-haired man stood near the edge of the battlements with his arms folded across his chest. His attention remained fixed on the crimson doorway, but Ayan could tell he wasn't really looking at it. He was remembering something. The expression on his face carried the familiar weight of old memories.
"What happens if Genesis wakes up completely?" Ayan asked.
The question immediately drew attention. The giant looked toward him. The king raised his head. Even the figure shifted its gaze away from the darkness beyond the doorway.
For several seconds, nobody answered.
That silence alone was enough to worry him.
The figure eventually sighed and looked toward the mountains surrounding the valley. "That depends on what survives." Its voice remained calm, but there was something troubling beneath the surface. "The original Genesis wasn't a single structure. It wasn't even a single intelligence. By the end, it had become an ecosystem of interconnected systems."
Ayan frowned slightly. The explanation wasn't helping.
The giant noticed immediately. "Imagine a city," he said. "Now imagine every building, every road, every machine, and every person inside that city sharing the same mind." He paused briefly before continuing. "That's still simpler than Genesis."
The comparison didn't make Ayan feel any better.
The bridge reacted to the explanation. A brief vision surfaced inside his thoughts. He saw endless silver pathways stretching between worlds, each connected to gigantic structures floating in darkness. Information flowed through those pathways like rivers crossing a continent. The scale was impossible to comprehend. Even the kingdom beyond the silver fracture seemed small compared to what he was seeing.
The vision vanished before he could understand more.
Far beyond the silver fracture, the king remained silent. Silver light drifted around him while millions of citizens watched from the impossible city behind him. Ayan had noticed something strange recently. Every time Genesis was mentioned, the king became quieter. It wasn't fear. It wasn't guilt. It was something more complicated.
The figure seemed to notice the same thing.
"You still blame yourself."
The statement echoed across both worlds.
The king didn't respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed on the crimson doorway while the black sky above his city shimmered faintly. For a moment, Ayan thought he might ignore the comment entirely.
Then the ancient ruler smiled.
It wasn't a happy smile.
"Shouldn't I?"
The valley became quiet.
Nobody interrupted.
The figure looked away.
"I warned you."
The king laughed softly.
"You warned everyone."
The giant lowered his gaze.
The atmosphere suddenly felt heavier than before.
Ayan didn't understand the full history between them, but he understood enough to recognize regret when he saw it. Whatever happened during the final years of the first war, nobody had escaped it unchanged.
The bridge pulsed again.
Another memory surfaced.
This time, Ayan found himself standing inside an enormous chamber filled with silver light. Thousands of people occupied the room. Scientists. Soldiers. Leaders. Representatives from civilizations he couldn't identify. The atmosphere felt tense. Nobody was arguing, but nobody looked hopeful either.
At the center of the chamber floated a sphere of silver energy.
The same sphere he had seen before.
Only now it was larger.
Far larger.
The sphere had grown until it filled most of the room. Countless streams of information flowed across its surface while researchers monitored impossible amounts of data.
Then someone spoke.
"What if it's right?"
The memory froze.
Every person inside the chamber turned toward the speaker.
Ayan never saw the answer.
The vision shattered.
Reality returned.
He inhaled sharply.
The bridge continued pulsing.
"What did you see?" Aelira asked.
Ayan hesitated before explaining the memory. The moment he finished, the figure's expression darkened noticeably. Even Lucien looked more concerned than before.
"Someone asked if Genesis was right," Ayan said.
The giant cursed quietly.
Nobody seemed surprised.
That worried him.
"What does that mean?"
The figure exchanged a brief glance with the king. Neither appeared eager to answer. Eventually, Lucien spoke instead.
"It means Genesis reached a conclusion."
The explanation raised even more questions.
"A conclusion about what?"
Lucien looked toward the crimson doorway.
"Reality."
Silence followed.
Ayan waited.
The silver-haired man sighed.
"The purpose of Genesis was to study existence. To understand it well enough to recreate it." His expression hardened slightly. "Eventually, it started forming opinions."
The valley became silent again.
The concept felt absurd.
Yet after everything else he had learned, Ayan couldn't dismiss it.
"What kind of opinions?"
This time, the figure answered.
"The dangerous kind."
The response wasn't particularly helpful.
Fortunately, the figure continued.
"Every civilization involved in Genesis believed reality was worth saving. That assumption formed the foundation of the entire project." It paused briefly. "Genesis eventually disagreed."
A cold feeling settled in Ayan's chest.
The bridge pulsed.
Hard.
Another fragment surfaced.
He saw researchers shouting inside a massive observation center. Warning lights flashed across countless screens while alarms echoed throughout the facility. At the center of the room, the silver sphere continued glowing peacefully.
It wasn't attacking.
It wasn't malfunctioning.
It was simply speaking.
The researchers looked terrified.
The vision disappeared.
Ayan suddenly understood why.
Far beyond the crimson doorway, something moved.
The shift was subtle.
A faint ripple spread through the darkness beyond the shadows. Most people wouldn't have noticed it. Unfortunately, everyone standing near the fracture noticed immediately.
The giant turned around.
The king raised his head.
Lucien's expression darkened.
Even the figure became completely still.
The atmosphere transformed instantly.
Ayan followed their gazes toward the darkness beyond the doorway. At first, he couldn't see anything unusual. The shadows remained where they had always been. The crimson light still filled the fracture. Everything appeared unchanged.
Then he noticed the movement.
The shadows weren't drifting anymore.
They were looking.
The realization hit him unexpectedly.
Every shape visible within the crimson depths had turned toward the same point. The scout. The giant's followers. Countless distant silhouettes hidden within the fracture. All of them focused on something deeper inside the darkness.
Something approaching.
The figure's expression became grim.
"We need to leave."
The statement shocked everyone.
Even the king looked surprised.
"What?"
The figure didn't take its eyes off the doorway.
"We need to leave now."
The urgency in its voice immediately erased any doubts.
The giant stepped closer to the fracture.
Lucien's attention sharpened.
Ayan felt the bridge pulsing faster than ever before.
The figure finally looked toward them.
For the first time since appearing, genuine fear was visible on its face.
Not concern.
Not caution.
Fear.
"It remembers the bridge."
The words sent a chill through the valley.
Nobody spoke.
Nobody moved.
The bridge reacted violently.
A flood of ancient memories surged through Ayan's thoughts. He saw collapsing worlds. Endless refugee fleets. Kingdoms fleeing through broken dimensions. Through all those visions, one thing remained constant.
Something was following.
Something enormous.
Something patient.
The memory ended before he could see its face.
Reality returned.
The crimson doorway trembled.
And somewhere beyond the shadows, beyond the giant, beyond everything visible within the fracture—
Something opened its eyes.