The battlefield shook with fire and chains.
Damien's fist still burned inside Yurin's grip, but his flames faltered—not from weakness, but from recognition. His mind splintered, fragments of memory searing through him like knives.
Yurin's whisper echoed inside his skull.
"You recognize me."
Damien staggered back, clutching his head. His flames flickered erratically, bursting then sputtering like a dying star.
Images crashed into him—images that weren't his.
A battlefield drowned in ash, where Yurin stood not as a boy, but as a general cloaked in crimson, commanding legions of masked warriors.
A throne of glass shards, where Yurin's voice declared laws that bent reality.
Damien kneeling before him… not as a knight, but as a servant bound in chains of fire.
Damien's chest heaved, fury warring with dread. "No… I never… I couldn't have—"
Yurin tilted his head, chains retracting as he watched Damien break down.
"You remember it. The truth refuses to stay buried forever."
Clara ran to Damien's side, grasping his arm as his flames burned too hot even for her to stand near. "Damien, listen to me! They're just fractures—echoes of lies bleeding into your mind!"
But Damien's wide, terrified eyes locked on Yurin.
"No. These aren't lies. They're memories."
Clara froze. The ink dripping from her fingers trembled as if recoiling from Yurin's presence.
Evelyn's monstrous voice slithered in from behind Yurin, serpents writhing in the air.
"He remembers the Architect's reign. The chains that built this false world. He remembers the truth of who Crimson is."
Clara's heart sank, her voice breaking. "Architect…? No. That can't…"
Damien's terror morphed into rage, his flames roaring back to life. "If that's true—if you're the same monster who enslaved me before—I'll burn you to ash a second time!"
He lunged forward, fire consuming his body until he was a comet of rage.
Yurin's smile sharpened. He raised his hand, crimson chains unfolding like a spiderweb to catch the incoming inferno.
"You think you burned me before?" His voice was cold, deliberate. "No. You only delayed me."
Flame met crimson in an explosion that turned night into blinding day. The ground split apart, porcelain shards collapsing into an abyss below. Clara was thrown back, clutching her notes as she skidded across shattered earth.
Above them, the colossal eye blinked once more, its pupil narrowing with interest. The fracture in the sky widened, and for a heartbeat, the battlefield reflected not just broken porcelain—but glimpses of another world.
A burning city.
A crimson throne.
A voice—Yurin's voice—echoing across time:
"Kneel, or be unmade."
Clara gasped, covering her mouth in horror.
Damien screamed in defiance, punching through Yurin's crimson web. His fist smashed into Yurin's chest, sending him skidding back. For the first time—Yurin coughed blood.
"Not… this time," Damien growled, flames spiraling around him like wings of a phoenix. "I don't care what history says. I'll end you here."
Yurin wiped the blood from his lips, crimson aura flaring brighter than ever. Evelyn hissed behind him, serpents ready to strike.
And then Yurin laughed.
Not cruelly, not maniacally—
But softly. Almost… fondly.
"Still so stubborn, even after lifetimes. That's why I kept you close."
Damien's rage faltered for half a second. Clara froze, her ink dripping into the cracks. Evelyn lowered her head, smiling with too many mouths.
Yurin spread his arms, chains weaving into a throne of crimson light behind him.
"Do you still not see? I didn't just survive history.
I wrote it."
The colossal eye above widened in recognition—
—and the fracture in the sky shattered like glass.
[Chapter Ten — End]