The illusion didn’t last long. The moment Oliver rejected the offer, the moment he shouted “I refuse” and slammed into the fabric of reality with Zero Logic, the mask of the room shattered. The peeling hospital walls melted like wax under fire. The window that once showed a beautiful garden cracked apart, revealing the cold, empty void of space beyond. The wooden parquet floor twisted into pulsing biomechanical metal, thick cables as wide as human arms slithering across it like serpents. And that rocking chair... It wasn’t a rocking chair. It was a dialysis machine. A version from hell. The structure was made of black dragon bone and rusted iron. Along its backrest, thousands of thin needles and infusion tubes pierced directly into the back, neck, and skull of the old man seated there. “Cough...” The old man, the First King, convulsed. Thick black blood spilled from his mouth, dripping onto his frail lap. Oliver staggered back. His translucent l

The wind on the rooftop of the Northern Star was hot. Not the heat of a desert sun, but the heat of thousands of fires merging into one massive furnace. Oliver had just managed to sit up. His spine screamed in protest. The leg he had shot himself in the King’s Dimension felt like it was being sawed apart with a dull blade. His right hand trembled violently. “Claire...” Oliver called. His voice was hoarse, swallowed by the explosions below. “I’m here,” Claire crawled toward him. She leaned her back against a dented central AC unit. Her face was smeared with soot, a gash cut across her forehead. “Don’t move too much. Your body looks like a puzzle put together wrong.” Oliver blinked. His vision was still blurred. The world looked like a smeared oil painting. Red dominated everything. “How long?” Oliver asked. “How long were we in there?” Claire glanced at her cracked tactical watch. “On my clock... only two hours,” she said quietly. She looked up at the bl