Time shattered like glass under pressure.
Kael stood amidst a battlefield that wasn't a battlefield anymore — it was a kaleidoscope of collapsed timelines, shards of realities spinning in the void like drifting planets. Each shard held a memory, a possibility, a heartbeat that could have been. And each was bleeding into the other.
Across from him, his corrupted self — the Rift King — towered like a fallen god, cloaked in midnight shadows stitched from regrets. His eyes burned gold, not with power, but with certainty. He had seen every future. Every failure. Every betrayal.
And he believed only his version deserved to survive.
"You still don't understand," the Rift King said, stepping forward. "This war was never about saving Aeris. It was about saving you — from your weakness."
Kael clenched his fists. His bones ached from fighting across centuries, from losing friends, lives, versions of himself. "You destroyed worlds to build your throne. That's not strength — it's cowardice dressed as control."
Thunder cracked above them. Aeris and Nullara fought high above, locked in a dance of mirrored pain. The sky bent as they collided — light against darkness, two halves of a soul shattered across timelines.
Aeris shouted down, "Kael—he's drawing power from the Paradox Core! If he activates it—"
"Everything ends," Kael whispered.
The Rift King grinned. "Exactly."
Behind him, the Paradox Core hovered, pulsing like a heart torn from a titan. It wasn't just a weapon — it was a singularity, absorbing time itself. Feeding. Growing. Waiting for one command to implode every version of history and restart from the Rift King's blueprint.
Kael surged forward, flame bursting from his boots, aura exploding around him in arcs of blue and violet. The Rift King met him mid-air — fists colliding with the force of a collapsing star.
Every punch echoed across timelines. Every scream from their mouths tore fissures in the void.
Then—Kael was slammed into a shard of the past.
And he saw her.
Aeris, smiling.
Not the battle-worn warrior. Not the half-twisted Nullara.
Just… Aeris. His Aeris. In a quiet timeline that never existed — because he never let it.
"I'll come back for you," he whispered to the shard.
But behind him, Nullara's scream shattered it.
Kael turned — too late.
The Rift King had Aeris in his grasp, the Core drawing from her soul. She screamed as the threads of her timelines began to burn away.
Kael roared. Not with rage — but with resolve.
He raised his hand, fingers glowing with fractured time. One last weapon. One last paradox. It would cost everything.
"I won't let you write the end," he said, stepping forward.
And then—
He chose.
🌌 But what did Kael choose? Aeris… or the multiverse? Himself… or the Rift King? The answer will reshape the very laws of reality in next chapter.