Heaven Shatters Where Hope Bleeds

Kaela's hands were stained with Coker's blood.

It wasn't just red.

It shimmered with cursed magic, twitching like it had a life of its own.

Every second she touched him, her own veins itched with wild heat, like his body was rejecting reality—and hers along with it.

"He's burning up," Kaela whispered.

Riku nodded grimly. "That's not fever. That's… the curse evolving."

Mara hovered close. "He's slipping deeper. We need to pull him back—before he forgets who he is."

But it was already too late.

Because inside Coker's soul…

He was no longer in Sanctum.

He was in Ashveil.

The ruins.

The fire.

The screams.

It was his village. Again.

Except this time—he wasn't a child.

He was both child and god and nothing at once.

He stood in a burning street, surrounded by echoes.

"Trash."

"Useless."

"No rank. No worth."

And then the figure stepped out from the flame.

Coker stared at him.

It was… himself.

But older. Hollow-eyed. Mouth sewn shut.

A nameless, soulless version of him.

The him who had accepted it all.

Who had obeyed.

Who never fought back.

The doppelgänger raised a hand and whispered through the sewn lips, "You weren't meant to survive."

Back in reality, Coker's body arched off the ground—veins glowing black.

Kaela didn't let go.

"I don't care what nightmare you're in. I'll drag you back if I have to."

And she reached for the orb holding Brax's flickering soul.

She didn't know why.

Only that somehow—some part of Brax could anchor him.

She pressed the soulstone to Coker's chest.

And whispered, "Come back."

Inside his mind—

Coker was fighting himself.

Not with fists.

But with truth.

"You were always afraid," the sewn-mouth version said.

"You wanted to be loved. But you chose rage."

"You wanted peace. But you chose vengeance."

"You never wanted to be a god. But now look what you've become."

Coker gritted his teeth.

"I am afraid. Every damn day."

"But I'm still here."

"And I don't need your permission to exist."

The doppelgänger cracked.

Literally.

Shards of its skin split open.

Dark light poured out.

Then—

BOOM.

Coker roared.

His real body exploded with energy.

Chains around him shattered.

Magic in the air bent backward.

And his eyes snapped open—

One normal.

One black, with a cursed gold ring inside.

Alive.

And more than alive.

He stood.

Kaela cried in relief.

"Welcome back, idiot."

Coker laughed hoarsely.

"I had to fight myself. Again."

She wiped her face, eyes red. "Did you win?"

"No. I remembered. That's stronger."

They didn't have time to celebrate.

The next throne stirred.

The second Judge descended.

This one was not armored.

It was made of light.

No face.

No limbs.

Just a blinding humanoid glow, wrapped in scrolls of fate.

"The Judge of Stories," Riku said. "It controls memory, legacy… destiny itself."

The Judge spoke with thousands of voices.

"Your thread ends here."

Coker walked forward.

"No. My thread just rewrote yours."

The Judge raised a scroll.

Words on it flickered:

'Coker Vale — dead by divine decree. Void by fate. Forgotten by all.'

It dropped the scroll.

Reality began to bend.

Kaela forgot her own name.

Mara couldn't remember why she was there.

Riku dropped his sword, blinking in terror.

Coker clenched his fists.

He could feel it too—his identity slipping.

The curse inside him screamed.

Names are power.

He took a deep breath—

—and screamed his name.

"COKER VALE!"

Over and over.

A thousand times.

So loud that the Judge stumbled.

Because names were not given.

They were earned.

He ran forward—

Magic spiraling around him.

His aura turned black and blue and gold.

He leapt—

And punched the Judge of Stories in the chest.

The light shattered.

Scrolls burned.

And a new name appeared in the air:

Coker Vale — the Unwritten God.

The second throne fell.

But Coker collapsed to one knee.

Blood dripped from his eyes.

Kaela rushed to him again.

"You idiot—stop doing that!"

"I can't," he wheezed. "I think that's kind of… my thing."

They didn't get to breathe.

A crack split the air.

A howl echoed across Sanctum.

The third throne rose.

And this time—it wasn't a Judge.

It was a beast.

Massive. Eyeless. Made of bones and prayers and forgotten dreams.

It was the oldest god.

The God of Silence.

Even the Judges knelt before it.

Coker wiped his mouth.

Kaela stared in horror. "We can't fight that."

"No," Coker agreed. "We can't."

He stood.

"But I can kill it."