Darkness. Cold. Endless.
A metallic taste clung to Jin Shang's tongue as he slowly stirred from unconsciousness. His breath was shallow, his body drenched in sweat and blood. He blinked, his vision returning in fragments—shadows slithering along the corners of his vision, whispers slashing through his mind.
He sat up, groaning.
The room was different now.
Every surface was warped, as if reality had bent in his absence. The walls pulsed faintly like living flesh. His reflection in the mirror no longer mimicked his movements—it stared back, lifeless and cracked.
Then it hit him—
Lillian had awakened.
Not just awakened, but ascended—into something ancient, divine, and terrifying.
The Monarch's heir.
"No…" Jin whispered. "Not her. Not like this."
He staggered to his feet, holding the side of his head. He could still feel the residual pressure of her awakened gaze burning in his soul, like a brand.
That wasn't the Lillian he knew.
He had to stop her.
"Stop her?" a low, mocking voice echoed behind him. "You couldn't even endure her gaze without bleeding like a dying beast. What makes you think you can stop a Monarch?"
Jin turned sharply.
Nyreth.
The cloaked being stepped forward from the veil of shadows, his presence unraveling the air. His face was still hidden, his form constantly shifting—as if reality refused to hold him still.
"You," Jin spat. "You knew this would happen."
"I created what's happening," Nyreth said simply.
Jin's eyes narrowed. "Then help me fix it."
Nyreth chuckled. "Fix it? No, Jin. You don't fix a collapsing star. You either flee—or become a god strong enough to hold the weight of it."
"She's not a monster," Jin snapped.
"She's not human anymore either," Nyreth replied, voice sharpened like a blade. "She is awakening to something your fragile mind can barely comprehend. A Monarch's Will is not just power—it's law, it's memory, it's legacy. You're not ready."
"Then make me ready," Jin growled. "Tell me what I need to do."
A long silence passed.
Then Nyreth sighed. "To fight a Monarch, you need more than strength. You need knowledge—all of it. Every failure. Every decision. Every path never taken. The minds of the old gods. The strategies of ancient beings. The mistakes of fallen empires. The wisdom of the first civilizations."
Jin stared. "How?"
Nyreth extended his hand. Between his fingers flickered something vast and alien: a spiraling mass of light and glyphs that twisted with a mind of its own.
"The Akashic Records," he said. "The divine library. The true memory of the entire existence. All experiences, all knowledge, from all timelines and possibilities. Only by accessing it can you match a Monarch."
Jin's heartbeat echoed in his ears. "Then show me how to reach it."
"You can't reach it," Nyreth said. "It's not a door you walk through. It's sealed behind the System—the very prison you've lived in since your rebirth."
Jin frowned. "The System?"
Nyreth smirked beneath the folds of his hood. "Yes. The System. That little voice tracking your stats, your power levels, your choices. That neatly organized structure? I created it and I gave you this."
Jin froze.
"What?"
"I created it long ago to help early civilizations evolve. It was meant to record, measure, and guide. But in time, it became a cage—a filter that shields mortals from truths they cannot bear. You want to access the Records? You must first break the System."
The space behind Nyreth cracked like glass. Streams of code and symbols flowed like blood through a machine.
He stepped forward and placed something in Jin's hand—a black cube, etched with spirals of blue light.
"This is the System Core. With this, you can destroy your bindings, erase the barriers, and overwrite your limitations."
Jin stared at it. "And then?"
Nyreth's voice turned solemn.
"Then the Akashic Records will flood into you. Every truth. Every lie. Every death you've lived and will live. It will crush your sanity if you're not strong enough."
"And if I am?" Jin asked.
Nyreth's gaze pierced through the dark.
"Then you will no longer be Jin Shang."
"You will be all that was and could be."
A heavy silence settled.
Jin took a breath. He looked down at the cube, his hand trembling. And then—
He crushed it.
A wave of blinding energy exploded from the point of contact.
The room vanished.
Time shattered.
Jin screamed as memories not his own carved themselves into his mind—lifetimes of battle, betrayal, triumph, and grief. He saw empires rise and crumble. Saw himself live a thousand lives. He watched Lia die in dozens of timelines. He saw versions of Lillian become goddesses, monsters, saviors, tyrants.
He saw his own corpse… over and over again.
His eyes rolled back. Blood streamed from his mouth.
But he did not fall.
He endured.
And when the light faded—
Jin stood in silence.
A new presence.
Calm.
Terrifying.
Infinite.
He opened his eyes, and within them burned the fractal glow of the Akashic Mind.