The ground beneath Mason trembled as the massive sphere of energy expanded in all directions. The air felt thick, charged with an intensity he had never encountered before. For a moment, everything seemed to slow down, as if time itself was holding its breath.Mason stood at the center, his heart pounding, his mind racing. He could feel the immense power of the sphere bearing down on him, its destructive force gathering. The Emperors were not holding back anymore they had thrown their full might into this strike, combining their abilities into an attack that could obliterate entire cities. Yet, Mason didn't flinch. He didn’t hesitate. He had come too far to be undone now.As the sphere began to surge forward, Mason’s body hummed with a strange energy, far beyond the golden aura that had once been his trademark. The whispers inside his mind grew louder, urging him to give in, to embrace the power that had awakened within him. It was tempting—too tempting. But Mason fought it back. This

Mason’s body tensed as the unseen force pulled him toward the throne. His muscles strained, resisting the inevitable, but the throne’s influence was absolute. Shadows curled around his ankles like living vines, dragging him up the ancient stone steps.“You were always meant to sit here.”The voice echoed through his mind, its tone neither commanding nor pleading just certain. A chilling certainty that threatened to break his resolve.“No,” Mason growled, planting his feet firmly against the ground. He called on his power, summoning all his strength, forcing his will against the force that sought to claim him. “I decide my own fate.”The throne pulsed, dark energy lashing out in response. The battlefield trembled as an unseen force pushed back against Mason’s resistance, challenging his defiance.The Emperors, still shaken by the Architect’s sudden erasure, finally sprang into action.“Stop him!” one of them shouted. “If he takes the throne, we’re finished!”Blades and spells alike fle

As the voice of the Ascended faded, Mason's chest heaved up and down in his nascent exchange with fate. Everything was silent on the battlefield apart from the gasping breaths of the Emperors and the dying sparks of energy flickering away from the disintegrated throne. He often felt the vision of his two possible futures quake within his mind, the details growing more distinct from each other with each visit.Scarlett’s grip on his shoulder held steady, anchoring him. He felt the subtle tremor of her fingers, the unvoiced supplication that whatever decision he made this time would not devour him whole."What does it mean?" Mason’s voice wavered, one hundred tornados raging in the eye of his mind. "To choose?"She woke from Emperor Regina, shoulders steeped in boredom. “It means all of that: to become what we became,” she said quietly. “To lose yourself bit by bit, thinking with every bit that you’re doing the right thing.”The lead Ascended took a slow step forward, shimmering with et

That battlefield still buzzed with the remnants of energy, with the residue of broken worlds hanging thick in the atmosphere. Mason stood in the balance of fate, the slings and arrows of the Ascended’s tongue still felt on his skull. Some of the Emperors were still on their knees, while others glared at her with barely restrained defiance, watching everything they had fought for unravel.Scarlett’s presence was solid beside him, and Mason panted, sharpening his breath. The decision he faced was a monumental one. The throne had crumbled, the cycle shattered, yet the Ascended remained, their glowing forms flickering like liquid stars.“You hesitate,” the lead Ascended said, tilting its head. "Why?"Mason clenched his fists. “Because this is not as easy as you make it sound. You stop short — you give me a choice, but I don’t even know what that choice really means.'”"Do you not?" the Ascended asked. “One way leads to the restoring of order, as you imagine it. One runs straight toward ch

Everything fell away around Mason as the entity’s words settled into his bones. Assume the throne… or become an echo.He was overcome with a cold, creeping instinct, as if reality itself were fraying at the cuffs and he was the first one to fall through. His limbs felt shaky, his mind darting between this moment, the past and the nightmarish potential future that wasn’t his to govern.Scarlett was holding his wrist even tighter. “Mason.” Her voice sliced through the storm raging in his mind. “Don’t listen to it.”But how could he not?The vision still seared behind his eyes, a world in which his efforts had been impotent. Another hand to maintain the grip, now tighter, now more unquestioning. The thing had never been to rule or to reject power. It had always been something darker.A cruel illusion of control.Mason squeezed his fists, his nails digging into his hands. “I already made up my mind,” he said, putting strength into his voice. “I won’t take the throne.”The presence of the