There was no gate.
No portal.
No boundary.
Just a feeling, like stepping off a ledge—and never hitting the ground.
That's how the Thronebreaker entered the next realm.
❖ Realm Detected: [Classified – Black Pattern]
– Status: Unanchored
– Law Structure: NULL
– Local Timeflow: Nonlinear
– Causality Integrity: Unstable
– Throne System Alert: Anchors Compromised
The moment he arrived, the world fractured.
Not with sound. Not with light.
But with meaning.
The sky was a spiral of concepts. Gravity was emotional. Distance measured itself in guilt. Thoughts echoed before he had them.
He stood on a surface made of infinite mirrors, each reflecting not what he was, but what he could've been.
In one reflection, he wore the Crimson Crown.
In another, he knelt at Solenne's feet.
In the last… he saw himself burning.
The system stuttered, struggling to stabilize.
❖ Core Protocols Holding at 32%
❖ Weapon Integration: Fragmented
❖ Authority Tag: Obscured by Local Law Hostility
❖ Host Integrity: Holding… barely.
He forced a breath. It came out broken.
Nullfang was silent. It didn't hum, didn't pulse. Like the blade itself couldn't comprehend this place.
And then something laughed.
A voice from nowhere and everywhere.
"You brought structure into my house, little anomaly.
How bold."
The Thronebreaker's eyes narrowed.
"Who are you?"
"The question is incorrect.
The better one is: What are you becoming?"
And suddenly, it wasn't a voice.
It was a face.
A mask made of equations. Smiling. Floating.
A being of perfect contradictions.
"I am the Logicless Sovereign.
The Ruler of Rejection.
This realm is my body.
My mind is a cage of untruths.
You seek to impose meaning here.
That… is offensive."
The Thronebreaker raised Nullfang—but the blade withered.
It turned into a snake. Then into his father's voice. Then into ashes.
He looked at his hands.
They were gone.
No—
They were everyone else's hands.
Solenne's. The Crimson Warlords'. The Obsidian King's. The boy who died under a sunless sky.
He gritted his teeth.
❖ Activating Override: [Paradox Drive]
– Injecting Stability Core
– Injecting Self-Narrative Control
He screamed—and suddenly, he was whole again.
The Logicless Sovereign tilted its head.
"Interesting.
You refuse to collapse."
"Try me again."
"Very well.
Let's see what you are."
The mirrors shattered.
And everything he had ever been—every version of him across the multiverse—was suddenly there.
Fighting.
Bleeding.
Laughing.
Judging him.
One version begged him to stop. Another mocked him. One tried to kill him.
He fought them all.
In silence.
The Logicless Sovereign watched, curious.
He killed himself a thousand times.
But one version wouldn't fall.
A version of him… still on the Throne.
Golden eyes. Infinite scars. A voice like thunder shaped into form.
This version looked at him—and said:
"You're not ready. You're still afraid."
They fought.
And it was worse than any warlord, any god, any shard beast.
Because the enemy knew everything.
Every flaw. Every trick. Every betrayal he wanted to forget.
The Thronebreaker almost died.
Until he remembered why he was here.
Not to rule.
Not to kneel.
To destroy the Throne.
He stabbed his other self through the heart.
And whispered:
"I'm not afraid anymore."
The Sovereign clapped slowly.
"Very well.
You have passed the Reflection Gate.
Most do not survive the first collapse.
You may proceed deeper into the Pattern."
❖ System Update:
– Fragment Integration: 62%
– Anchor Reinforcement Enabled
– New Skill Unlocked: [Untruth Engine]
– Function: Convert conceptual lies into temporary power
The realm twisted.
Everything blurred.
And suddenly, he stood in a city made of unsaid thoughts.
People made of doubts walked silently through streets paved in stolen time.
This was the Core of the Black Pattern.
And waiting for him at the center… was her.
Solenne.
Or something wearing her face.
She turned slowly, eyes unreadable, her voice wrapped in venom and honey.
"So. You made it here after all."
He didn't speak.
Because deep down, he wasn't sure this wasn't her.
She stepped forward.
And whispered words that cracked the mirrors behind her.
"The throne… was never yours to break.
It was mine."
Everything stopped.
The Logicless Sovereign began laughing again.
"Ah. The convergence begins."
❖ Warning: Core Anomaly Detected
❖ Identity Clash In Progress
❖ System Cannot Verify Solenne's Authenticity
She raised her hand.
The city wept.
Reality folded in half.
The Thronebreaker stood firm.
"If you are her… prove it."
She smiled—and shattered into a storm of knives.
The final battle of the Black Pattern had begun.