Chapter 2792: Story 2793: The Child Who Wore Six Eyes

Lyra could not move.

The child stood beyond the golden doorway, holding the terrible crown in both hands. Six golden eyes blinked across its surface, each one reflecting a different version of Ronan—an infant crying in darkness, a warrior drenched in blood, a king wearing living bone, and a stranger whose face had been erased.

Ronan raised his sword.

“Step away from that crown.”

The child tilted its head.

“Why? You gave it to me.”

“I have never seen you before.”

The child’s smile faded.

“You say that every time.”

Behind Ronan, Seratha released a broken sob.

“Close the door,” she whispered. “Whatever happens, do not let him enter.”

The child looked directly at her.

“Hello, Mother.”

Seratha recoiled as though struck.

“I am not your mother.”

“You buried me before I was born. You put my heart inside your favorite son. You erased my sister. And when Father asked where his children had gone, you told him they had never existed.”

The seventh heartbeat inside Lyra faltered.

Ronan turned toward Seratha, horror spreading across his face.

“How many children were there?”

The First Mother could not answer.

The child stepped across the threshold.

Every dead soul beneath the floor began pounding against the invisible barrier. Cracks spread through the stars, and forgotten names poured into Lyra’s mind like burning rain.

She heard the child’s name somewhere among them.

It was close.

Almost within reach.

But whenever she tried to grasp it, something inside her heart recoiled.

“Stop!” she cried.

The child halted.

For a moment, its expression became unbearably gentle.

“You can hear me, Sister. You always could.”

Lyra swallowed. “Are you the six-eyed boy?”

“No.”

Ronan’s sword lowered a fraction.

“Then who are you?”

The child lifted the crown.

“I am what remained when you killed him.”

The chamber shook violently.

From within Ronan’s chest came two heartbeats—one deep and steady, the other frantic and terrified.

The forgotten child living inside him had awakened.

Don’t believe him.

The voice echoed through Ronan’s bones.

He is wearing our brother’s death.

Ronan clutched his chest.

The child heard the voice and laughed.

“Still hiding inside him? How pathetic.”

Red light erupted from Ronan’s body. His sword blazed, illuminating a memory buried beneath centuries of guilt.

He saw himself standing before a black throne. The six-eyed child knelt at his feet, begging him to strike. Behind them, a young girl with silver wings screamed as the sky split apart.

And someone wearing Ronan’s face whispered, One death will save them all.

Ronan staggered.

“I didn’t kill him because I chose the world,” he murmured. “Someone made me believe there was no other choice.”

The child nodded.

“Now you’re remembering.”

Lyra stepped forward, her seventh heartbeat roaring.

“Who made him do it?”

The child raised one golden finger and pointed toward Seratha.

“No,” Seratha whispered.

Then the crown’s six eyes turned toward her.

A seventh eye opened in its center.

And Seratha’s shadow rose behind her, wearing the face of the First Father.

“You should have killed them all,” it said.

The golden doorway slammed shut.

In the darkness, Lyra heard her own voice whisper from somewhere far beyond creation:

“Begin the second war.”