The stasis tank hissed as it released the pressure, a quiet but foreboding sound. The dark liquid inside slowly drained, revealing the form suspended within.
Aurel stepped forward, his heart pounding in his chest. He had been prepared for many things, but not this.
This… was him.
Not the body he had now. Not the sickly form he had once known.
This was the Darkest Knight. The man who had once ruled over the Demon Lord's armies. The man who had been consumed by vengeance, haunted by the memories of a world he had failed to protect.
The body in front of him was a perfect reflection of that version of himself—muscles honed from endless battle, skin unmarked by time, a face cold and unreadable. Yet, Aurel knew every line, every scar. He had lived this life. He had died in it.
But that was not the most unsettling part.
The most unsettling part was the silence.
The memories of his past life crashed into him—vivid and painful. He could feel the weight of his responsibilities, the guilt, and the rage. His death had been no accident.
He had been betrayed.
"You are the one who fell," a voice whispered inside his mind. "You are the one who broke the world."
Aurel staggered back, his hand clutching his forehead. The memories flooded him again, too many for him to process. There was a night—a night he had buried deep within himself—the night the Twelve Thorns, the heroes who had betrayed him, had come for him.
The last battle. His wife's screams as they tore her away. His son's lifeless eyes.
"I failed you."
Aurel's knees buckled, but he steadied himself against the cold steel of the tank. He had lived this life. He had died this life.
And now, it was all coming back.
Meanwhile, in Fantaso…
The gates to the Demon Lord's domain had opened. And with it, the world itself began to unravel.
The black sun in the sky was no longer just a symbol of destruction—it was the herald of a long-forgotten truth. The realms were merging. Fantaso and Earth, once separated by dimensions, were now colliding.
The Architect—the one who had designed the system, the gates, and the Chosen—had been watching. Waiting for this moment.
And it was his voice that echoed across both worlds, a voice that was no longer human.
"You've awakened the knight, but you've also awakened the curse. The Twelve Thorns are no longer just a memory, Aurel. They are coming."
Back on Earth
Aurel snapped his head back toward the tank, his gaze hardening.
The Twelve Thorns. He had thought them gone, wiped from existence after the war in Fantaso. But now, they were coming for him.
He could feel it—the same chilling presence he had felt the moment the system had chosen him. They were still alive. They had survived somehow. And now, they were hunting him.
His hand gripped the hilt of his sword—the Crimson Fang—ready to strike at any moment. But he knew that his fight was no longer just with the past. It was with the very system that had betrayed him.
"Why did you bring me back?" he asked Mira, his voice steady, though every fiber of his being screamed for vengeance.
Mira's light dimmed slightly. "I didn't bring you back. You were always meant to return. You and the others—" She paused, as if gathering her thoughts. "You were created to keep the balance between worlds. And now, the balance is broken. The Thorns are coming, and if they succeed, both Earth and Fantaso will be lost."
Aurel's eyes narrowed. "Who else is involved in this? Who else knows about the Thorns?"
"I—" Mira hesitated, before adding, "There are others. But I don't have the full information. The Architect controls everything, and he won't let you destroy the system so easily."
"Then I'll find him," Aurel said, his voice cold with determination. "And I'll burn it all down."
The Vault's Secret
Behind Aurel, the stasis tank hummed back to life, and the memories continued to surface. The image of the Twelve Thorns—the heroes who had killed him—flashed before his eyes. Their faces were burned into his soul, each one a betrayal.
But amidst the chaos of his mind, something caught his attention.
A piece of information that shouldn't have been there.
A name.
"Gray…"
Aurel looked toward the tank, where his past self stood, locked in eternal silence. A hidden memory—one of the Thorns, or rather, someone who had been with him before the betrayal.
The name echoed in his mind.
"Gray… Reavyn."
Reavyn. The name of the only person who had ever truly understood him in the other world. The one who had fought by his side in the darkest of battles.
But Reavyn had betrayed him, too. He had been one of the Twelve Thorns.
"No. I will not allow this."
Aurel clenched his fist around the Crimson Fang. He would find Reavyn. He would find the Thorns. And he would make them pay.
But first, he needed answers. The vault held them.
He turned to Mira.
"Open it."
She hesitated, but then her voice softened. "You already know what you have to do. There's no going back after this."
Aurel nodded.
The door to the vault opened, revealing a second chamber within the hidden facility—a room filled with ancient symbols and inscriptions, all pointing toward one thing:
The Architect.
And Aurel now knew how to find him.