Prologue – Twenty Years Ago, The Night the Pact Was MadeThe torches of Duskspire Keep flickered violently as a storm of unnatural origin tore across the sky. The Hale brothers—Lucian, the elder, regal and fearless, and Ethan, still a boy with curious eyes—stood side by side at the fortress gates.Lucian turned to him.“Stay behind me, Ethan. No matter what you hear. No matter what you see.”“But—” Ethan’s lip trembled.“This is my burden,” Lucian said, gripping the hilt of his ceremonial blade, Oathreaver. “It always has been.”What followed was a blur of screams, fire, and a monstrous being of pure darkness descending from the heavens. And Lucian—beloved heir of the Hale bloodline—vanished in the chaos.The only remains found were a shard of his blade… and the symbol of a broken firstborn pact.Now – Phoenix Citadel, War Council HallEthan stood before his Inner Circle—Kael, Commander Mira Ren, Arion the Archmage, and Lady Nyssa of the Shardblades. Tension rippled through the room l

The scream wasn’t Ethan’s. It was the world’s. As the Correction Child dissolved into fractal light, Ethan stood at the center of a collapsing nexus, his veins pulsing with alien fire. Sigils—ancient and forbidden—burned beneath his skin, crawling like living tattoos across his arms, his chest, his spine. His breath came out ragged. He could feel it now. **All of it.** Every choice rewritten. Every thread tugged from the loom of fate. Every lie Lucian told, and every truth Liora bled for. “System stabilization: 12%,” echoed a mechanical voice within his mind—neither his own nor fully artificial. “Warning: Blood Code synchronization incomplete. Host integrity failing.” He dropped to one knee. The Blood Code. A language of fate etched into lineage. Not just magic. Not just prophecy. This was DNA as destiny—rewritable, volatile, and absolute. And someone had changed his. --- **Twenty-One Years Ago – The Sealed Memory** Liora clutched baby Ethan close, whispering to the blo

The world was no longer a place. It was a choice. A single heartbeat stretched across infinite time. And in that silence stood Ethan and Valeria. Around them, the Alpha Rewrite surged like a storm held in suspension—stars disassembling, timelines unraveling, divine codes flickering like faulty lights. The God Engine was gone. The Throne of Stars shattered. The Cycle cracked at its core. But they remained. Two souls tethered across lifetimes. Two flames that had burned through betrayal, rebirth, and ruin. Valeria turned to him—her hair floating in the zero-gravity pull of collapsing reality, her eyes holding both past and future. She was no longer just the woman Ethan had loved. She was the Alpha Original—the spark from which the first rewrite began. "You gave me back my choice," she whispered. "But what if I don't want to rewrite it? What if I want to end it?" Ethan stepped closer. His voice was low, steady, but raw. "Then we'll end it together." In the Beginning, there wa

Ethan’s breath steamed in the cold light of the Citadel’s lower sanctum, the air thick with old magic and unearthed truths. Amara stood across from him, her cloak now folded over her arm, revealing battle-worn armor underneath—black leather embossed with the sigil of the Raven Court, a kingdom that no longer existed.“I want full access to your intelligence network,” she said, circling the war table. “Every phantom node, every corrupted registry, every black contract under your name. If we’re going to survive the Circle of Ash, we can’t fight blind.”Ethan’s jaw tightened. “You don't get to waltz back into my life and demand access to the bones of my empire. Not after seven years of silence.”Amara raised a brow. “I didn’t come back to ask nicely.”He stepped forward, meeting her eyes with the full gravity of the God of War behind him. “Then you should remember who you’re speaking to.”Amara didn’t flinch. “You should remember who taught you how to be him.”A sharp pause filled the ch

The Throne of Stars descended like a burning comet. Its crown of celestial fire lit the shattered sky, throwing shadows across the ruins of Bluehaven. Each shadow twitched, twisted—and then rose. They weren’t illusions. They were echoes. Every decision Ethan Hale had ever made, every life he had touched, every betrayal he had endured… had come to life. And they were not all friends. Ethan stood at the edge of the floating citadel, Amara at his side, the air thick with electricity. His two echoes—the Destroyer and the Survivor—had already summoned their legions. The Destroyer’s army burned with crimson light. Phantoms of every enemy Ethan had slain: Malrik Thorne, the Sovereign of Shadows; Victor Hale, the traitor; even the faceless assassins of the Phantom Syndicate. They marched forward, hungry to kill again. The Survivor’s army wore chains of silver flame. Friends Ethan had lost, allies he had sacrificed, even Jasmine’s ghostly shade in one world where she died too soon. The