The Mirror That Shattered
Before the Cipher whispered to anyone—before Lucien, before Mira—
There was Vaelen.
A boy born into silence.
No name. No tribe. No past.
The Great Shaman found him in the ruins of a forgotten temple, sitting between two corpses and humming to himself.
She took him in.
Trained him.
Taught him to speak with spirits, bend fire, walk the planes.
He learned faster than anyone she'd ever seen.
But Vaelen didn't just learn spells.
He watched.
Every ritual. Every decision. Every contradiction between power and mercy.
And slowly… the boy who mirrored everyone else
Started wondering who he really was.
"You cannot save everyone," the Shaman once told him.
"Balance isn't about peace—it's about choosing what must remain and what must be forgotten."
He asked her once, "What if you're the one who forgot the wrong thing?"
She never answered.
So he left.
They once called him a healer of the multiverse.
A fixer of timelines. A sealer of ruptured dimensions.
But that was before he saw too much.
Before he realized some worlds were better off erased.
Vaelen Noctros stood alone at the edge of a dying universe. The sky bled violet flames, the ground cracked beneath his feet like a puzzle too tired to hold together.
He raised a single hand.
The wind didn't blow. Time didn't move. Everything just... stopped.
A broken realm hung in the balance—screaming for salvation. Pleading for one more chance.
He silenced it.
A black sun formed in his palm—slow, deliberate. His eyes, obsidian with strands of red, reflected galaxies he'd already turned to ash. The air thickened with grief and madness, and still, Vaelen remained still.
"I was a guardian," he whispered. "But guardians become slaves to hope."
He clenched his fist.
The realm folded in on itself—screaming as light and matter dissolved like ash in rain. Stars blinked out. Mountains crumbled without thunder. And the last cry of life vanished beneath a breath of silence.
60% of his power vanished with it.
It drained from his skin, leaking into the void like ink into water. He staggered—just for a second. Just enough to remind himself he was still tethered to limits. Then, he stood tall again.
"Balance must be paid. Always."
Behind him, in a realm not yet broken, echoes whispered his name in terror.
Vaelen the Mirror Reaper.
Vaelen the Realm Butcher.
Vaelen the Betrayer of Light.
But none knew the truth:
He never sought power. He sought silence. Peace. Stillness. A universe without pain, lies, or broken fates.
A universe that didn't need fixing.
But every realm he spared turned to rot. Every mercy became madness. So now, he burned the corruption before it could fester.
One universe at a time.
He vanished into the void—his cloak trailing stardust, his heart a furnace of conviction.
And far, far away… the Cipher trembled.
Because he was coming.
They were next.
And this time, he wouldn't show mercy.