: The War That Never Was

Chapter 36

The Vault of Glass cracked — not from outside, but from within. Magic bent. Time fractured. Memory screamed.

Nezutsu stood with his back to Kaelith, facing down three figures cloaked in robes of shifting time: the Chrono-Wraiths of the Shadow Court.

Each one moved like echoes flickering out of sync — their bodies stretching seconds behind their steps, as though they existed in both now and before.

"We are the Witnesses of Unwritten Days," the tallest one said, voice scattered like static. "And you, Nezutsu, are a paradox the world cannot afford."

Kaelith muttered under her breath. Glyphs flickered on her sword's edge.

"They can rewrite events around you. Don't blink."

But it was already too late.

The first Wraith raised a hand, and the room shattered like a mirror.

Illusions of War

Suddenly, Nezutsu was no longer in the Vault.

He stood on a battlefield of ashes and ice. Thousands of corpses lay around him — all wearing the same armor. All bearing his face.

"This is your future," hissed the second Wraith, stepping through the illusion. "The war you will one day start. The cost of your name."

Nezutsu turned slowly.

"I didn't do this."

"Yet you will."

The corpses began to rise. All stared at him with empty, glowing eyes.

He tried to breathe fire.

Nothing.

Kaelith's voice echoed from far away:

"None of it is real. Find your anchor!"

He closed his eyes and remembered… the feather.

And with that, the battlefield burned away.

Back to the Vault

He reappeared in real time — just in time to dodge a blade made of frozen moments. The Wraiths were upon them now, blinking through time.

Kaelith screamed a spell, spinning her sword in a circle of runes.A wall of starlight flared between them.

"Nezutsu, focus! What did you see?!"

"Myself. A war I started. Corpses everywhere. Wearing my face."

She grimaced.

"They're trying to trap you in a guilt-loop. If you believe it, it becomes real."

But one of the Wraiths pierced the barrier.

And touched Nezutsu's chest.

Time stopped again.

Inside the Moment

This time, he stood in a ruined temple of mirrors. Every reflection showed a different version of himself:

One where he was king.

One where he was dead.

One where he was the god the world feared.

And one… where he never existed at all.

A voice whispered behind him.

"Pick one. The world will forget the others."

Nezutsu turned.

It was himself — older, crueler, wearing armor made from shattered stars.

"You can't save everyone. So decide: Are you a weapon? Or a warning?"

Nezutsu stepped back.

"I'm neither."

The flame in his chest pulsed once — and rejected the choice.

And the illusion shattered again.

Back in the Fight

When Nezutsu awoke, Kaelith was bleeding.

Two Wraiths had her pinned in an hourglass-shaped prison made of slow time. Her screams barely echoed, her blood moving at half speed.

The last Wraith turned to Nezutsu.

"Enough games. Give us the Flame."

Nezutsu looked at Kaelith.

He looked at the Final Codex.

And then he stepped into the flame.

Literally.

The Inner Flame Unleashed

The violet fire around him exploded, no longer a trickle — but a storm.

Feathers of white heat grew from his back. His body lifted off the ground. And his voice echoed with something… ancient.

"I told you once," he said, "I don't know what I am."

His eyes blazed white.

"But I know what I'm not."

With a single breath, he unleashed a stream of violet-white flame — but it didn't burn the Wraiths.

It rewrote them.

Their forms twisted, becoming echoes of what they used to be. Memories. Dust. Gone.

Kaelith dropped free from the prison.

"What… was that?"

Nezutsu collapsed to his knees.

"Something I don't know how to control."

Aftermath

The Vault of Glass shuddered.

The Codex closed itself.

And an unseen voice whispered from deep within the vault:

"You've turned the first page. The book cannot be closed now."

Kaelith helped him up, eyes still wide with awe.

"You didn't just destroy those Wraiths. You removed them from history."

Nezutsu winced.

"I didn't mean to. I just wanted them to stop."

"That's what makes you dangerous."

She handed him the Codex.

"We need to leave. If the Shadow Court knows you can do that, they'll send more. Worse. Ones not bound by time at all."

As they exited the Vault, the crystal floor began to crack behind them.

But before they reached the light outside, a final figure stepped into the chamber.

A man dressed in black robes made of woven silence.

His face was obscured by a mirror mask.

In one hand — a staff made of braided obsidian and time threads.

"Nezutsu," the man said, voice calm, almost polite. "You weren't supposed to survive this long."

"Who are you?"

"A friend," he said. "One who killed you… once already."

The mirror mask showed Nezutsu a reflection — of himself dying.

[TO BE CONTINUED...]