Chapter 3: The Queen of Knives

> Every throne has a shadow.

And every king has a reckoning.

The Archive screamed.

Not in sound—but in memory. The walls pulsed like a dying star, bleeding history and glitching futures.

In the center of it, Rael Veylor stood unmoved—his obsidian coat fluttering in phantom wind, his eyes glowing like the end of days. Magic swirled in runes across his chest, and behind him, his living throne pulsed, whispering in a voice only gods could hear.

Beside him, Lyra Ashveil adjusted her grip on her plasma blade, watching the dark across the hall shift like oil on glass.

And then… she stepped out.

Kora Voidfang.

> Beautiful. Deadly. Completely unbothered by reality itself.

A sleek hooded jacket hugged her frame. Runes spun lazily around her shoulders like orbiting moons. She licked her lips, eyes burning violet, her scythe dragging sparks across the Archive floor.

"Fancy seeing you here, Starboy," she smirked.

Rael didn't blink. "Last time, I ripped your arm off."

"Grew it back better," she said, flexing. "Now it's flameproof and emotionally unavailable."

Lyra narrowed her eyes. "You were hired to kill him."

Kora twirled her scythe. "Correction: was. My new contract pays better—and comes with a front-row seat to the multiverse imploding."

> BOOM.

The Guardian of the Broken Star dropped from the ceiling like a meteor.

A celestial war machine with ten arms, each wielding weapons forged from extinct futures. Its eyes were singularities. Its voice was law.

> "THRONEBREAKER IDENTIFIED. LEVEL-SEVEN EXISTENTIAL BREACH. COMMENCING ERASURE."

Kora whistled. "Ooooh. You've got the big boys angry."

Rael cracked his neck. "Good."

---

The battle ignited.

Lyra launched first, slashing through a gravitational wave, her blade singing through time itself. The Guardian swung—its arm bending physics—and missed by a heartbeat.

Rael lifted a finger. Just one.

A pulse of red lightning cracked the air—and space-time itself fractured like glass.

The Guardian stumbled.

And Rael moved.

He appeared above it—then below, then through. His body flickered, reality stuttering in his wake. A hand on the machine's core—and—

> "Collapse."

The Guardian's chest caved in, sucked into a singularity spell Rael carved with a whisper. Magic roared.

Kora didn't stand idle—her scythe sliced through anti-matter blades, dancing with the Guardian in a blur of steel and sarcasm.

"Do you ever stop flirting with death?" Lyra shouted.

Kora winked. "Only when I'm bored."

---

The final blow came not from Rael…

But from the Archive itself.

The room trembled—and a hidden sigil on the floor ignited. Forgotten protocol. Forbidden defense.

> "UNKNOWN ENTITY 'RAEL VEYLOR' BREACHED CORE DATA LIMIT. UNLEASHING LOCKED MEMORY: PROJECT OBLIVION."

Rael's face paled. Lyra noticed.

"What is 'Project Oblivion?'" she asked.

Rael whispered, "Me."

---

A vision burst into reality:

A lab in ruin. Screams. A throne built from bones and failed kings.

And Rael, floating in a tank, wires in his spine, eyes already red.

> "You were never the savior," a voice echoed.

"You were the reset."

The Guardian exploded—shards raining like cursed stars.

Rael stood silent, smoke rising off his coat. He hadn't moved.

Kora landed beside him, visibly rattled. "What the hell was that?"

Rael didn't answer.

Because something else had answered.

> A symbol appeared in the air.

A mark that hadn't been seen since the multiverse cracked:

The Sigil of the Pale Emperor.

Kora backed up, her voice uncharacteristically serious. "No. No no no. He's still alive?"

Rael turned to Lyra.

> "It's time we go hunting."

---

Meanwhile...

In a black citadel orbiting a dead sun, a new side character stirred.

Talon Vox — an exiled AI wrapped in flesh and sarcasm, trapped in a synthetic body he hates and a war he didn't start. One glowing blue eye and a mechanical raven perched on his shoulder, he watches the sigil light up across every hacked screen in the galaxy.

"Welp," he says, standing. "Guess it's apocalypse o'clock."

He grins, cracks his knuckles, and mutters: "I should've deleted that bastard when I had the chance."

---

End of Chapter 3