All Chapters of Reversal Of Fate: From A Pawn To A Mafia Billionaire: Chapter 161
- Chapter 170
200 chapters
War Of The Self
The battlefield convulsed like a wounded beast.The triple fracture no longer separated into clear realms. Silence, blood, and the warped third all bled into one another, jagged seams tearing across the ground and sky. Armies clashed where they overlapped—soldiers of stillness colliding with shrieking wraiths, both suddenly swallowed by rivers of fire that flowed upward into torn skies.Damian stood at the epicenter, hammers clenched, lungs burning. His breaths no longer belonged to him—they were echoed in silence, roared in blood, and distorted into whispers in the third. He was alive in all three worlds at once, and every second, the boundaries frayed further.At the heart of it stood the third Damian, crowned in stormlight.The storm-crown spun like a broken galaxy, shards orbiting, each one a different possibility of him. His eyes glowed not red, not black, but an impossible shifting hue—like staring into countless reflections at once.And he spoke.“You are already mine.”With a
The Fourth Shadow
The shard lodged in his chest should have killed him. The hammer’s head still pinned him to the storm-ground, every heartbeat flooding light and blood into the impossible air. Damian’s breath came ragged, split three ways.The crowned self leaned closer, storm-crown burning above his brow.“It ends. Here. You were always weak.”Mara’s fractured scream echoed across realities. Eryn’s duplicates tore each other apart until only silence remained.And Damian… should have died.But the storm did not devour him.It paused.Shards near him trembled, halting their spin. The rivers of fire dimmed. The skies cracked wider, as though listening. His blood fell into the storm, not vanishing—absorbed. Every droplet birthed a new shard. But unlike the others, these were not mirrors of past or future.They were dark. Featureless. Empty.And from them, a voice arose.Not silence.Not blood.Not crown.Something deeper.***The Whisper of the Fourth“Not one. Not two. Not three. Not choice. Not crown.
The Vessel Of The Forth
Damian’s Possession DeepensThe shadow-crown burned cold on Damian’s brow, darker than silence, sharper than blood. His body no longer moved by choice—every twitch of his hand, every breath in his lungs was driven by the whisper now lodged in his wound.Where silence once ruled with stillness, and blood with frenzy, this new force ruled with nothingness.The fracture bent.Rivers reversed their flow, shards collapsed into dust only to reform as black glass. Armies knelt, not in loyalty, but because their forms disintegrated when they tried to resist. Even the crowned self—impaled, fading—could not move against it.The battlefield had a new master.And it wore Damian’s skin.***The Battlefield TransformsThe silence-plane dissolved into blank white plains with no horizon. The blood-plane curdled into veins of dried, rusted ruin. The third path’s jagged glass melted, reshaping into a void-geometry that made Mara’s eyes bleed when she tried to look too long.It wasn’t a battlefield anym
The Choice Of Shadows
The Hammer FallsThe world held its breath.The hammer descended, blood-red in one hand, silence-white in the other, the fracture trembling beneath its weight. But before it struck, two voices split the air.Mara’s: “Stop!”Eryn’s: “End it!”Both women moved at once—Mara rushing forward with her hands outstretched, Eryn loosing an arrow cracked with light.The hammer froze mid-swing, trembling in Damian’s grip. His face split between shadows—half his own, half the void’s. His eyes flickered stormlight, pleading for release, then drowned again in black.The fracture tilted. Reality itself waited for their choice.***The Split Between ThemMara’s body shook, her voice breaking into three tones. “He’s still inside—I can feel him! If we cut him down now, we’ll lose him forever!”Eryn’s bowstring snapped, but her arrow had already sunk into Damian’s shoulder. He didn’t bleed. The wound simply… unraveled. Flesh vanished into nothingness around the shaft.Eryn’s voice was iron. “That thing
Fracture’s Last Breath
The CollapseThe battlefield screamed.Silence shattered into shards of blinding crystal. Blood erupted into rivers of fire. The void spread like ink through both, swallowing everything it touched.Damian knelt at the center, both hammers raised, his body splitting into stormlight and shadow. His scream tore across all three realms, a sound of breaking bones and breaking time.Mara fell to her knees beside him, clutching his arm, her chains of memory flickering in and out of existence.Eryn stood a few paces away, bow trembling in her grip, one last arrow glowing with her essence.And above them, the fracture itself pulsed like a heart—ready to burst.The shadow’s voice crawled over their skin:“Choose. Kill him or save him. Either path feeds me. Either choice ends you.”***The Edge of DespairMara’s face streaked with tears, but her grip did not loosen.“He’s still here—I can feel him! The shadow wants us to split, Eryn. If we give it division, we hand it everything.”Eryn’s jaw loc
The Shard That Remains
The Whispering ShardThe battlefield was ash.No silence, no blood, no void—just a plain of fractured glass, stretching endlessly beneath a hollow sky.And in the middle of it pulsed a shard.Black. Small. A splinter of reality that should not have survived. Its surface shimmered with impossible reflections, flashes of futures that no longer existed—crowns, corpses, kingdoms, betrayals.It whispered Damian’s name.Once. Twice. Each time louder, until the sound was crawling inside his skull.He staggered, clutching his chest as the stormlight in his eyes dimmed. The hammers felt heavier in his hands. His lungs burned like fire.Mara reached for him, but the moment her fingers brushed his sleeve, she recoiled. The shard flared, and something unseen sliced her palm open.Eryn tried to draw her bow, but the string snapped instantly, as if the shard had severed not the weapon, but her will to use it.“This one,” Damian whispered hoarsely, “this fight… it’s mine.”The shard pulsed, agreeing
The Fourth Path
The sky screamed.Not with thunder, not with stormlight, but with something deeper. The battlefield of glass shivered beneath Damian’s knees as the horizon split open like paper torn by an unseen hand.Mara held him tight, chains glowing faintly around her arms, but even those chains trembled, as if ready to break on their own. Eryn lifted her bow, though she knew it was useless—the string frayed and rewove itself, caught in the shifting air.Above them, the wound in the sky widened. And from it came no silence. No blood. No void.It was something else.The shardstorm had been chaos. The fracture had been hunger. But this… this was command.A voice poured from the rift. Not loud, not soft. Just final.“Three paths were toys. Illusions. It was never silence. Never blood. Never unity. Those were scraps you were allowed to fight over. This—”The wound in the sky bled light so bright Damian’s eyes stung, and he clutched his chest.“—this is the Fourth Path. The only one that was ever real
Crown Of Absence
The world was silent.Not broken. Not burning. Not healing. Just still.Even the shardstorm—the eternal roar that had haunted every breath—was gone. The glass plain lay empty, reflecting a sky that no longer knew if it existed.Damian knelt at the center, the crown of absence resting in his hands. It felt like holding the memory of a heartbeat that never was. No weight, no warmth, yet his arms trembled beneath it.Mara and Eryn stood at opposite ends of what remained of the battlefield. They no longer flickered between selves—the fracture had paused its tearing, waiting.Everything waited.The Architect’s light stood behind him like a sun that refused to rise. “Do you feel it?” it asked quietly. “The quiet before creation. This is the moment before the first word. Only one has ever stood here before.”Damian looked down at his reflection in the crown’s nothingness. “And what did they choose?”The Architect’s voice was a whisper. “To begin again.”***Mara’s PleaMara took a step forwa
The Architect Falls
Silence had a new sound.It wasn’t empty anymore. It pulsed — like the echo of something remembering how to exist.Mara woke first.She lay on a field of glass grass that shimmered like dew but cut like mirrors. Above her, the sky was no longer blue or red — it was something else entirely, a shifting canvas of colors that had never existed before.For a moment, she couldn’t breathe. Then air found her lungs — strange air, too clean, too sharp.“Eryn?” she whispered.No answer.Her body trembled as she rose, the faint memory of the explosion still clinging to her skin. She remembered Damian’s voice — the moment he crushed the crown. The light. The void. The sound of everything ending.And then… this.A world reborn, yet hollow.The fracture was gone.But so was Damian.***Eryn’s ReturnFar across the horizon, beneath a broken crescent moon that pulsed like a heart, Eryn awoke in silence.Her bow was gone, replaced by a faint scar across her palm shaped like a crown.She sat up, head s
The World That Remembers
There was no dawn anymore.Only the remembering of light.When the brilliance faded, the new world took its first breath. It wasn’t a sunrise. It was an awakening.The sky unfolded in layers, colors blooming and collapsing like the heartbeat of a newborn cosmos. The land, once a field of fracture, had softened into something fragile yet alive. Rivers ran with water that glowed faintly in the dark, whispering old names. Mountains pulsed like hearts buried beneath the soil.And above it all, a hum filled the air — quiet, persistent, ancient.A hum that sounded suspiciously like Damian’s heartbeat.***Mara Among the RemnantsMara walked through the fields, barefoot on glass-grass that didn’t cut anymore. Every step she took left behind a faint trail of light — not footprints, but memories. The ground remembered where she had been. The trees turned their leaves toward her as she passed, recognizing something familiar in her shadow.“Everything’s… alive,” she murmured. “But not the same.”