He vanished.
And reappeared in eight different timelines at once.
Each version of Asher struck the King of Black Seasons simultaneously—every possible future of Asher bringing down the scythe from a different direction. Top. Below. Side. Past. Future. Now. Always.
The King staggered. His form fractured—petals turning to dust, his voice glitching through centuries.
But he wasn't finished.
He dropped the spear.
And raised both hands.
"Last Harvest."
Every drop of time that had ever touched the King returned to him. Eons flowed backward—turning him young, ancient, eternal, newborn, decayed all at once. His form expanded into a black aurora of entropy incarnate.
He screamed—
—and launched forward, dragging the end of every timeline he had conquered behind him like a cloak of death.
But Valeris intercepted.
Dragonlight Requiem: Infinity Pulse.
