There was no light.

No ground.

No air.

Only pressure.

Like my bones were being rewritten. Like the crown wasn’t just on my head anymore—it was inside me, threading itself through my blood, my thoughts, my soul.

You bled. You burned. Now you belong.

The voice didn’t echo.

It bloomed—inside my chest, my lungs, my mind.

“Who are you?” I gasped.

The pressure pulsed again. A shape took form in the dark.

Tall. Hooded. Silver eyes glowing from beneath a shadowed crown. Not made of gold. Not of iron.

Just... absence.

The one who was cast out.

The one who wore the flame before you.

The Crownless King.

I staggered back. But there was nowhere to go.

“What do you want?”

You called me, Kael. With your blood. With your fear. With your fire.

Now I offer you truth.

The figure raised a hand. The space around us ripped open—like a curtain pulled from a window.

And I saw—

A war of shadows. A king burning on his throne. An empire torn apart by betrayal.

And a boy... my face, but older... screaming as fire consumed him from the inside out.

“What is this?!”

A glimpse. Of what was. Of what may come again.

The Crownless stepped closer.

They will betray you, Kael. The priest. The nobles. Even your own name will turn against you.

Unless you become more than a king.

Unless you become... like me.

My heartbeat felt wrong. Heavy. Hot.

The darkness pulled at me. Not to hurt me—but to claim me.

Say my name, he whispered.

And I will make you eternal.

I almost did.

The word sat on my tongue like poison and honey.

But just before I spoke, I heard another voice.

Small. Familiar. Human.

“Kael. Wake up.”

The darkness trembled.

The Crownless snarled.

Not yet.

And the mirror shattered.