INEVITABLE DESTINY, PART 1.

"Your intentions, the ones you wear like armour—they're noble, sure," Zero Dawn began, his tone; a blend of calm, sharp, and measured. "But the strength, the power, the influence you needed? You lacked them. Completely. Your goals, however personal or grand, were nothing more than impossible dreams without the brains or the brawn to back them. No strategy, no execution. Just ideals floating in a void, waiting for reality to tear them apart."

Lucius said nothing.

There was nothing to add. Nothing to deny. And certainly nothing to agree with. If Zero Dawn's words held even a sliver of truth—and Lucius knew deep down that they did—then he had arrived far too late. Too late to fix the damage. Too late to recognise his blind spots. Too late to admit that tackling everything alone had finally caught up with him.

It had worked for a while. Long enough to seem viable. But luck, unlike time, has a cruel habit of running out just when it's needed most—especially for those who've leaned on it one too many times.

"I could go on, you know," Zero Dawn continued. "List your failures one by one like some parent who actually gives a damn. But I don't. I'm not your parent, and I don't care about you."

He paused, then scoffed. "But that would just waste time, wouldn't it? Even here, in a realm where time bends and warps—where a single second can stretch into weeks, months, lifetimes. No… I didn't extend my existence just to school some man-child about the thousand ways he failed himself. Especially not when he already knew—yet still chose to do everything exactly the way he shouldn't have-"

"That's enough."

Lucius's voice cut through the realm—low, guttural, not shouted, but seething. Two simple words, laced with something primal. A growl from a beast daring to challenge its master.

Zero Dawn stopped mid-sentence and for the briefest moment, his expression shifted—barely a flicker—before his entire form erupted in a blinding blue brilliance. The dream realm shuddered.

Lucius didn't even have time to blink.

The wave of mana collapsed upon him like a falling mountain. A crushing, sentient force that recognised no resistance.

In an instant, he was on his knees.

Not by choice.

His spiritual body buckled. Not just kneeling now, but bowing. His head slammed against the ground before he could even process the pain, driven down by sheer pressure. It was domination, pure and absolute.

Zero Dawn said nothing.

He let the silence speak, let the weight of his mana declare what it meant to disrespect the 'Dragon Emperor' of Verdun.

Lucius gritted his teeth, arms trembling as he tried to rise. But the realm itself seemed to conspire against him. His strength failed. His will burned. But the pressure did not lift. Not yet.

He would not stand, not until Zero Dawn allowed it.

Lucius kept trying, struggling, but to no avail. This was Zero Dawn's domain. He was the lord of this place, which meant even in their spiritual form, Zero Dawn could inflict pain and brute force on him—something he was already doing. As Lucius was about to regret those two words, the ones he had spoken with frustration and self-loathing, he realised something, or rather, he questioned his own thought.

'Was this domain, this realm, truly Zero Dawn's?' he asked himself internally. And the answer that came up established a fact: No. It wasn't...

A pure white light, as white as Zero Dawn's hair, erupted—almost blinding the Dragon Emperor himself—changing the dark purple colour of his irises into a pure whitened iris, with mere hints of purple, for a second. The mana around Lucius's body erupted violently upwards, clashing against the mana force that was pushing him down—forcing him on all fours—challenging the fury of the Dragon Emperor. It was a reminder to the man standing in front of him of who truly was Mana's favourite child.

Lucius slowly rose—his movements weak, his body frail and close to falling again—but still, he displayed something even Zero Dawn hadn't witnessed for a long while. Absolute defiance. Or at least, some form of it, even within this dream realm. Lucius's legs straightened as he regained his height and might, standing tall—almost imposing—as his own mana, which was really telekinesis, kept pushing back against the Dragon Emperor's unchallengeable might.

"You're right," Lucius spoke up, prompting an interested reaction from Zero Dawn, who still had yet to make a single sound.

"You are not my parent, hence I don't really have any reason to listen to your bullshit—no matter how true, self-reflecting, or eye-opening it might have been... I was a reckless fool. I agree with you on that. My death was the consequence of my own actions, and I had long accepted it as such, blaming no other soul for my own doing. Thus, it also gives me enough authority and voice to cut short the wisdom I clearly did not ask for. You can indeed save yourself some time and energy… by shutting the hell up, you know?"

Zero Dawn said nothing. He didn't need to. He was—perhaps for the first time in a long while—speechless, not out of offence, but out of sheer surprise. What stood before him was a man broken, yet unbending. Arrogant, yes—but defiant in a way that even the Dragon Emperor of Verdun had to applaud silently.

"Apologies for cutting you off earlier—that was my bad," Lucius said, his tone blunt, somewhere between honest and straight-to-the-point. "My mentor—or whoever came before her—didn't raise me like that... Hopefully, the mighty Dragon Emperor can find it in his heart to forgive a foolish dead man."

Then came the shift. "Now, please… let's end this. I've had my fill of hidden history lessons and cryptic geography lectures. I'm glad I heard them, truly—but I'm done. I've had enough of this life. I was a failure. And this," he gestured vaguely at the realm around them, "this is what failures get. A life worth nothing."

He turned and began walking—where to, even he didn't know. Just anywhere that put a bit of distance between himself and this ancient, self-righteous asshole.

Zero Dawn stood still. He'd heard Lucius's words, and while he showed no outward sign, something in him stirred. A flicker of regret. Maybe it was for the way he'd forced Lucius to kneel, or maybe it was something deeper—a rare moment of empathy for the boy who had never asked for any of this.

He could end this dream realm in a blink. He had that kind of power and authority. But did he want to? No, not yet.

He'd pulled Lucius out of the brink of death for a reason. There was more to explain—much more. The past wasn't just history. It was the origin of the present chaos. The Wraiths. The imbalance. And the war that tore the world apart. But something had interrupted him—an unseen interference, a blockage that even he hadn't foreseen. It was stopping him from fully revealing the truth behind the Great War and the echoes it still left behind.

"Destiny…" Zero Dawn finally spoke. "Do you believe in it? In the idea of a pre-written fate?"

Lucius didn't stop walking. "No fucking clue," he replied flatly.

Lucius knew more than he let on—more than he'd ever admit—but right now, he wasn't in the mood for philosophical questions. Not from the same man who had moments ago forced his head to the ground like a dog for no good reason.

***

Emperor Zero Dawn wasn't just a legendary figure in Verdun's history — he was a major part of Verdun's recent history. The one man who halted the Demonkind's aggression, who killed their greatest warriors, mages, monstrous atrocities, and even the Demon King himself. The way this man fought with lightning by his side was, according to legends, 'Godly.'

He was also a man of exceptional intelligence, with vast knowledge about mana and its nature — knowledge that helped him rise to the very pinnacle of Sentienity. He was the one responsible for the creation of Verdun's greatest legion, the Asuras — individuals of such strength and abilities that they could go head-to-head and toe-to-toe with the most terrifying assets the Demonic race had to offer.

Zero Dawn was also infamous for his mana techniques — the architect and originator of countless forms of mana manipulation and mastery.

And yet, the one thing Zero Dawn was truly known for — perhaps feared for — was his secretive nature. His refusal to share insights, abilities, and knowledge with others. It was said that the Emperor had developed devastating mana techniques that were previously unheard of and unmatched in battle. But his refusal to share—to even speak to those outside his small circle of companions—meant that, when he fell following the defeat of the Demon King, all of his life's work, discoveries, and secrets died with him.

Yet here he was, standing in front of Lucius — alive and sane enough to still share pictures and stories of this world's history with him. Lucius was one of those millions of children, a single being among countless souls across generations who had idolised Zero Dawn as their hero, their saviour, their inspiration. Because that's what greatness and sacrifice offer you — eternal remembrance and respect. Something many would strive for, but not Zero Dawn. No — he wasn't that kind of man. He knew exactly what he wanted, and how to achieve whatever he desired. And right now, it was the same.

This man needed something — something he wanted to achieve, which could only be attained if he had a representative, a vessel, inside the living realm. As for some reason, Zero Dawn himself could not interfere with the mortal world, as if he were forbidden… or restricted by something. Something that clearly did not want the return of the greatest Emperor Verdun had ever seen.

"The pre-written fate, or destiny, foretold that you were to die in that region…" Zero Dawn began, as Lucius continued walking away, his steps faster than usual, putting a respectable distance between the two. He was forced to listen to what Zero Dawn had to say, despite this being his own realm, but it did not pique his interest enough to stop or turn around.

"Just like it is foretold that your loved ones will join you in the afterlife — or eternal rest, as you may call it — within a year's time... Perhaps less."