There was no floor.
No ceiling.
No sound.
Kade floated in nothingness—an endless void of starlight and data streams, all twisting around him like serpents made of memory.
He wasn't in the Citadel anymore.
He wasn't anywhere.
> *"Initializing Crownfall Interface…"*
> *"Subject: Kade Fallon"*
> *"Designation: Sovereign-Class Anchor"*
> *"Reconstructing Prime Memory Log…"*
The void shattered like glass.
Fragments spiraled around him, each showing flashes of lives—**not** his. Or rather… not *just* his.
A boy wielding a burning sword.
A soldier betrayed by his empire.
A king standing alone before a throne of rust and flame.
> "What is this?" he whispered.
A voice—*his own*—answered back.
> "The first time you died."
The void rippled. A scene formed—a battlefield beneath a violet sky. Ruined spires pierced the clouds, and dead machines littered the earth like metal carcasses. Kade stood among them… **but it wasn't him**.
The other Kade—**the First King**—was older, scarred, wearing a crown of wires and code. He walked with purpose, dragging a broken sword, eyes blazing with the fire of someone who had lost everything.
The real Kade watched as the First King dropped to his knees before a massive terminal.
> "If you're seeing this," the First King said, "then I failed. I couldn't stop the collapse. But maybe… maybe *you* can."
He reached into his chest and pulled out a glowing shard—the first *Catalyst Memory Fragment*.
> "I encoded everything. Buried it inside the system. I became the key."
Kade tried to speak, but the vision pushed on.
The sky cracked open. Dark tendrils descended from orbit—massive, coiled things not made of flesh or metal but something *older*. The First King turned, roared a final command—
> "LOCK THE TIMELINE!"
—and vanished in a pulse of red light.
The void faded.
Kade collapsed onto a glass platform suspended over stars.
His heartbeat thundered in his ears.
> *"Crownfall Sequence Paused."*
> *"You are the last anchor. The chain ends with you."*
He looked up, eyes wide. "How many versions of me are there?"
The Catalyst answered:
> *"Seven hundred and sixty-two."*
"And I'm the only one who made it this far?"
> *"Correct."*
He laughed bitterly. "Then I guess I'm not here to fix the past."
> *"You are here to choose the future."*
A hologram flared beside him. A map—no, a web—of timelines. Branching, splintering, reconnecting. In the center pulsed a golden thread.
His.
Only one path remained stable.
All others collapsed into static.
Kade stood. "Then show me what I need to do."
> *"Very well."*
> *"Warning: One truth may erase the others."*
> *"Proceed?"*
Kade didn't hesitate. "Proceed."
The stars shattered again.
And the final timeline began to rewrite itself.