Chapter 7 – Godkiller Protocol
Far beyond the Veil of Worlds, in a realm where time flowed sideways and space whispered names, the Divine Command Terminal activated.
No alarms. No flashing lights.
Just silence.
And a single word carved across the surface of the Core:
> Kaian.
The Sovereigns stared.
Twelve beings, each a walking apocalypse, each older than the stars. Their forms varied—some humanoid, others eldritch or mechanical—but their eyes all shared the same truth:
Fear.
"He's awake," murmured the Sovereign of Time, her voice echoing across dimensions.
"Worse," said the Sovereign of Fate, his fingers twitching with golden threads. "He's evolving. Faster than the system can analyze."
The central throne, empty for millennia, now pulsed with crimson runes. The Architect's mark had flickered. Corrupted.
"Activate Protocol Zero," ordered the Sovereign of War. "Deploy the Seed."
A silence followed.
One of them—a Sovereign made of liquid darkness—hesitated. "That protocol is meant for things outside the Design. He was part of the Design once."
"No," Fate replied. "He was the flaw."
They all turned to the stasis chamber behind them.
Inside floated a boy. Young. Asleep. Woven into roots of silver and chains of light. His heartbeat was synced with the oldest of weapons.
The Godkiller Seed.
"Release him," said War.
"Let him awaken."
---
Meanwhile… Back on the Fragmented Earth
Kaian stood on the edge of a crumbling cliff, watching the rivers of stardust that bled from the sky. The world wasn't healing.
It was mutating around him.
He reached out, touching the air. The laws folded. A system prompt tried to load—but broke apart before it could form.
[ERROR: UNRECOGNIZED ENTITY]
[UNABLE TO MEASURE STATS]
[REQUESTING MANUAL OVERRIDE…]
He ignored it.
But then he felt it.
A ripple. Not through space. Not through time.
But through narrative.
Something was being written. Forced. A new piece added to the story of existence that didn't belong before.
And he knew what that meant.
"They're sending a cleaner," he whispered.
In the far distance, a comet of gold and silver fire broke through the clouds. It didn't burn the air—it rewrote it. Storms bent away. Concepts eroded. Mountains forgot how to stand.
And at the center of the impact… stood a boy.
Maybe sixteen.
Hair like starlight. Eyes like galaxies.
Wearing no armor. Holding no weapon.
Just smiling.
Kaian's expression didn't change. But for the first time, the world flinched before he did.
> "You're not from here," Kaian said.
The boy stepped forward. "Neither are you."
> "What are you?" Kaian asked.
"I'm the answer," the boy said, cracking his neck. "To a question you forced the universe to ask."
> "What question?"
The boy smiled wider.
> "What happens when the Crownless meets the Chosen?"
And then the air fractured between them.
The fight didn't begin.
It ignited.
---