Chapter 68: The Original Claimant

The window shattered.

Yet not a single piece of glass touched the floor.

Hundreds of fragments remained suspended in the air, each reflecting a different image of the same woman.

Some showed her standing in the white room.

Others showed her beneath a ruined sky, surrounded by the remnants of a world that no longer existed.

One reflection showed her sitting beside a window, her head lowered as rain ran down the glass.

And one showed her standing directly behind Kael.

He turned.

Nothing.

Only the wooden table, the seven chairs, and the people staring at him.

"Don’t move," the Observer said.

Its voice was unusually sharp.

Kael glanced towards the floating glass.

"Wasn’t planning to."

"Your reflection is missing."

Kael looked at the nearest fragment.

The room was visible.

Leon stood beside Elena. Mira was near the table. First User held his black book.

Pi sat on Kael’s shoulder.

But Kael himself wasn’t there.

He slowly examined the other fragments.

The same thing.

Every reflection showed the room without him.

Except one.

In the smallest fragment, the woman stood behind a younger version of Kael.

She rested a hand on his shoulder.

The younger Kael was holding a silver quill.

And his expression was one Kael had never seen before.

He looked afraid.

Not of death.

Not of the consequences of a decision.

He looked afraid of the woman standing behind him.

Kael reached towards the fragment.

"Don’t touch it!" First User shouted.

Too late.

The instant his fingertip approached the glass, the fragment rotated.

A thin silver line emerged from its surface and connected to the mark on his palm.

Kael felt a sudden pressure in his chest.

Then a voice whispered.

"You’re not supposed to be here yet."

The fragment shattered into light.

Kael staggered backwards.

Leon caught his arm.

"Kael!"

"I’m fine."

But his palm was burning.

The silver eye had returned.

It rested above the broken-chain symbol, watching something that Kael couldn’t see.

First User immediately approached him.

"Show me your hand."

Kael hesitated.

"Why?"

"Because I need to know what it recognized."

Kael reluctantly extended his palm.

First User examined the mark.

His expression became increasingly grim.

"What?"

"The eye."

"Yes, I can see it."

"It isn’t a symbol."

Kael frowned.

"Then what is it?"

First User looked towards the shattered window.

"A claim."

Silence settled over the room.

Mira approached.

"A claim over what?"

First User closed Kael’s fingers.

"His existence."

Elena’s expression hardened.

"Can someone claim another person’s existence?"

"Under ordinary circumstances, no."

"And under extraordinary circumstances?"

First User didn’t answer.

The Observer stepped away from the window.

"We’re leaving."

Kael looked towards it.

"Where?"

"Somewhere that isn’t connected to this room."

"Didn’t you just say this place was beyond the chamber’s reach?"

"It was."

The Observer turned towards the doorway.

"That was before the original claimant awakened."

The journey out of the room was considerably more difficult than their entrance.

The corridor outside had changed.

Its white walls were covered with faint silver inscriptions, and the floor seemed to stretch farther than it should have.

Every few steps, Kael noticed another doorway.

Some were ordinary wooden doors.

Others were made of black stone.

A few had no handles at all.

Mira slowed down beside one.

"These weren’t here before."

"No," the Observer replied.

"What are they?"

"Places that have been remembered."

Mira examined the nearest door.

Its surface carried a small inscription.

THE HOUSE BEFORE THE END.

She immediately stepped away.

Kael noticed.

"Something wrong?"

"That place appeared in the records Graves showed us."

"Which records?"

"The ones concerning the previous worldline."

Mira looked at the Observer.

"Are these doors connected to the memories we’ve been seeing?"

"Some of them."

"And the others?"

"Places that never existed."

Leon frowned.

"How can something that never existed have a place?"

The Observer continued walking.

"Because existence isn’t always the requirement for something to be remembered."

Kael glanced at the doors.

He had heard enough explanations like that to last several lifetimes.

"Can we please find a corridor that behaves normally?"

Pi made a small sound.

"Pi."

"Yes, I know. Apparently, that’s too much to ask."

They continued.

After several minutes, the corridor finally opened into a wide circular hall.

Unlike the previous room, this one had no furniture.

Only a large silver circle engraved into the floor.

Seven lines extended from its centre, each leading towards a different doorway.

Six of those doorways were sealed.

The seventh stood open.

The Observer stopped.

"Stay behind me."

First User approached the circle

"That won’t work."

The Observer turned.

"Explain."

"This place isn’t responding to the witnesses anymore."

First User opened his book.

A faint image appeared across its pages.

THE ORIGINAL CLAIMANT HAS BEEN RECOGNIZED.

Beneath it was another sentence.

THE RETURNED IS REQUIRED.

Kael stared at the words.

"Required for what?"

First User closed the book.

"To answer the claim."

Kael sighed.

"Naturally."

Leon stepped beside him.

"Can we refuse?"

"Not without understanding what happens if we do."

Kael looked at the open doorway.

"And what happens if we accept?"

First User remained silent.

Kael gave him a dry look.

"Your silence is becoming increasingly informative."

The Observer stepped onto the silver circle.

Immediately, the six sealed doorways began trembling.

A voice emerged from the open doorway.

"You’re bringing him here?"

The Observer didn’t answer.

The voice continued.

"I told you not to."

First User raised his head.

"You’re the one who opened the door."

A faint laugh echoed through the hall.

"That wasn’t an invitation."

The seventh doorway brightened.

Then a figure appeared.

A woman.

Dark hair.

Tired eyes.

The same face that had followed Kael through countless fragments of memory.

She stood at the entrance, wearing a simple dark dress.

Unlike the previous visions, her appearance was perfectly stable.

No flickering.

No distortion.

No shifting features.

She looked real.

Kael stared at her.

"You’re the original claimant."

The woman tilted her head.

"Is that what they called me?"

"Apparently."

"How unfortunate."

Her gaze moved towards First User.

"You shouldn’t have brought him."

First User remained composed.

"He has already involved."

"That doesn’t mean he needed to come here."

The woman looked at Kael.

For a moment, something resembling regret crossed her face.

Then she spoke.

"How much do you remember?"

Kael folded his arms.

"Enough to know that everyone keeps lying to me."

"That’s not an answer."

"Neither are most of yours."

A faint smile appeared on her face.

It disappeared almost immediately.

"You’re still stubborn."

"Apparently, I was like that before."

The woman lowered her eyes.

"Yes."

Kael took a step forward.

"Then tell me something useful. What is your claim over me?"

The woman’s expression changed.

"Nothing."

Kael frowned.

"First User said the symbol was a claim over my existence."

"First User doesn’t understand the difference."

First User’s eyes narrowed.

"Then explain it."

The woman ignored him.

She continued looking at Kael.

"I don’t own you. I never did."

"Then why does that symbol exist?"

"Because you were the one who asked me to remember."

Silence.

Kael stared at her.

"What?"

The woman slowly approached the silver circle.

"You asked me to remember you when everyone else had forgotten. You asked me to preserve the promise, even if the world itself had to end."

Kael’s expression tightened.

"Why?"

"Because you knew that if the promise disappeared, the reason for the first decision would disappear with it."

Mira stepped forward.

"Then you’re not claiming his existence. You’re claiming the promise."

The woman looked at her.

"Exactly."

Mira’s expression changed.

Kael looked down at his palm.

The silver eye no longer seemed threatening.

It was a mark of recognition.

Someone had remembered him.

And that someone had been waiting.

But he still didn’t understand why.

The woman turned towards the seven doorways.

"Do you know what the first decision actually preserved?"

Kael answered immediately.

"The possibility of another beginning."

"That’s what you were told."

"Was it wrong?"

"No."

She looked towards the open doorway.

"But it wasn’t the whole truth."

The six sealed doorways began glowing faintly.

Behind each one, Kael sensed something.

Not a person.

Not an ordinary presence.

Something vast and distant.

The woman continued.

"The first decision preserved the possibility of another beginning, but it also established a boundary between what could continue and what had to remain behind."

"That’s what the chains were holding."

"Yes."

Kael thought of the Fifth.

The figure chained beneath Aetheris.

The one who had told him that he was late.

The one who had asked him to return.

"Was the Fifth part of that boundary?"

The woman’s expression became difficult to read.

"Part of it."

"Then why was it chained?"

"Because someone had to remain where the ending had occurred."

Kael narrowed his eyes.

"Someone had to stay behind."

The woman nodded.

"And that someone wasn’t supposed to be you."

Kael’s hand tightened.

"Then who was I supposed to be?"

The woman looked at him.

"The person who could leave."

The answer unsettled him more than he expected.

He glanced towards the seven doorways.

The Seventh Witness had remained.

The Fifth had been chained.

The stranger had stayed behind after the decision.

And Kael—

Kael had been the one who carried out the ending and left.

But something had changed.

He had returned.

"Why did I come back?"

The woman didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, she looked towards Pi.

The little creature had been unusually quiet.

Its golden eye reflected the seven doorways.

The woman crouched.

"Hello, little one."

Pi’s tail curled.

"Pi..."

She extended her hand.

Pi didn’t approach.

The woman withdrew it.

"You’re still afraid of me."

Pi lowered its head.

Kael moved closer.

"Did you ask Pi to remain?"

The woman shook her head.

"No."

"The stranger said he asked Pi to wait."

"Yes."

"Then what was your role?"

She looked towards the seventh doorway.

"I asked Pi to remember."

Kael’s eyes narrowed.

"Why?"

"Because everyone else had agreed to forget."

Pi suddenly raised its head.

"Remember."

The woman nodded.

"Yes. You were the only one who could remember without trying to change what happened."

Kael looked at Pi.

He understood a little more now.

Pi hadn’t simply remained behind to wait for him.

It had preserved the memory of a decision that the others had agreed to leave behind.

But the woman continued.

"And that was why the agreement could never truly be complete."

First User stepped forward.

"You knew the seventh would refuse."

"Yes."

"Then why allow it?"

The woman looked at him.

"Because someone had to remember what we were trying to preserve."

First User’s expression darkened.

"And now the memory is being used against us."

The woman turned towards him.

"No. The memory is being used to remind you of what you abandoned."

The hall trembled.

The six sealed doorways began opening.

A cold wind swept across the silver circle.

From behind the first door came a voice.

"She has returned."

Behind the second:

"The promise remains."

Behind the third:

"The boundary is weakening."

Behind the fourth:

"The carrier has arrived."

Behind the fifth:

"The chained one is waiting."

Behind the sixth:

"The erased one remembers."

The woman closed her eyes.

"Not yet."

The voices fell silent.

Kael looked at her.

"Who are they?"

"The ones who accepted the first decision."

"The six witnesses?"

"Some of them."

"Then why are they speaking as though they were waiting for me?"

The woman opened her eyes.

"Because you were supposed to return only when the world was ready."

Kael frowned.

"And is it?"

"No."

Her answer was immediate.

The silver circle cracked.

A dark line spread from its centre towards the seventh doorway.

The woman looked down.

"Someone has begun forcing the boundary open."

First User immediately opened his book.

The pages turned rapidly.

A sentence appeared.

THE CLAIMANTS ARE NOT THE ONLY ONES RETURNING.

Another line formed beneath it.

THE CARRIER’S PROMISE HAS BEEN ALTERED.

Kael stared.

"Altered by whom?"

The woman looked towards him.

"That’s what we need to find out."

The seventh doorway suddenly slammed shut.

A deep vibration travelled through the hall.

The six other doors began opening wider.

This time, figures emerged.

The first was tall, dressed in a long robe.

The second carried a sword.

The third had no visible face.

The fourth was surrounded by a faint spatial distortion.

The fifth wore a cracked white mask.

The sixth appeared as a silver silhouette.

Kael recognized some of them.

The Fifth.

The Sixth Witness.

And the others from his fragmented memories.

But none of them approached.

They stood around the circle, watching.

The woman moved towards the centre.

"Don’t come any closer."

The Fifth tilted its head.

"You don’t have the authority to stop us."

"I know."

"Then move."

"No."

The silver silhouette stepped forward.

"The promise has been altered."

The woman nodded.

"I can see that."

"The Returned must answer."

Kael raised an eyebrow.

"Why does everyone keep talking about me as though I’m not standing here?"

The Fifth turned towards him

For a moment, its unbroken white mask reflected his face.

Then it spoke.

"Because you’re the one who promised."

Kael’s expression hardened.

"What did I promise?"

The Fifth remained silent

The Sixth Witness finally spoke.

"You promised that if another beginning became possible, you would not allow the same ending to happen again."

Kael frowned.

"That’s reasonable."

"Not entirely."

The Sixth Witness looked towards the woman

"You also promised that you wouldn’t bring back what had already been surrendered."

The hall fell silent.

Kael slowly looked at the woman.

"Is that true?"

She didn’t answer.

He turned towards First User.

"Is it?"

First User looked down at his book.

"Yes."

Kael’s jaw tightened.

"So that’s the problem."

The woman stepped forward.

"Kael, listen to me."

"No. I want to understand something."

He looked towards the six figures.

"If I promised not to bring back what was surrendered, why are you all trying to return?"

The Fifth answered

"Because someone is bringing us back."

"Who?"

The Sixth Witness looked towards the woman.

Then towards First User.

Finally, its gaze settled on Kael.

"You."

Kael went still.

"That doesn’t make sense."

The silver silhouette stepped forward.

"The first decision was carried out by you. Your Authority remains connected to its completion."

The Fifth continued.

"Every time you reject an outcome, you weaken the boundary that separates what remained from what was surrendered."

Kael’s expression changed.

He remembered the battles beneath Aetheris.

The chains.

The entities.

The times he had used Return Authority to reject something that had already happened.

Each time, the silver cracks had spread further beneath his skin.

He had thought the consequences were limited to his own body.

But perhaps they weren’t.

"You’re saying my Authority is weakening the boundary?"

"Yes," the Sixth Witness replied.

Kael stared at his palm.

The silver mark glimmered faintly.

"Then why didn’t anyone tell me?"

The woman looked at him.

"Because you weren’t supposed to use it this much."

Kael gave a humourless laugh.

"Wonderful. Another important detail everyone forgot to mention."

First User closed his book.

"Your Authority was never meant to repair the world."

Kael looked at him.

"Then what was it meant to do?"

First User’s answer was quiet.

"To allow you to refuse the ending."

The Fifth stepped closer.

"And every refusal reminds the world that the ending can be changed."

Kael’s expression darkened.

"Then why give me that ability?"

The woman looked directly at him.

"Because you asked for it."

Silence.

Kael stared at her.

He had heard similar statements before.

That he had asked to return.

That he had chosen to forget.

That he had made a promise.

But this was different.

He slowly lowered his hand.

"What exactly did I ask for?"

The woman approached.

"You asked for the right to choose again."

Her eyes softened.

"Even if the choice destroyed you."

The silver circle cracked again.

A powerful shockwave swept through the hall.

The six figures began fading.

The Fifth turned towards Kael.

"Don’t let her make the decision again."

The woman immediately looked at it.

"That’s not what happened."

The Fifth’s voice became colder.

"Then tell him."

The woman said nothing.

The Sixth Witness lowered its head.

"There’s no more time."

The six doorways began closing.

The figures disappeared one after another.

Before the Fifth vanished, it looked directly at Kael.

"Find the person who changed your promise."

Then it was gone.

The hall became silent.

Kael turned towards the woman.

"Who changed it?"

She looked towards the closed doorways.

"I don’t know."

Kael narrowed his eyes.

"You’re telling me that someone altered a promise you were responsible for preserving, and you don’t know who did it?"

"Yes."

"Then how did you recognize the claim?"

"Because the claim was mine."

The silver eye on Kael’s palm flickered.

The woman looked at it.

"And because the promise was originally made to me."

Kael stared at her.

Before he could ask another question, a sound came from the seventh doorway.

Three knocks.

A pause.

Then a fourth.

Everyone turned.

The woman immediately stepped backwards.

First User’s expression changed.

The Observer raised its hand.

And Pi—

Pi began trembling.

Kael looked down.

"What’s wrong?"

The little creature stared at the door.

Then it spoke.

"Not him."

Kael’s expression tightened.

"Who?"

Pi’s golden eye widened.

"Not stranger."

The door opened slightly.

A voice emerged from the darkness.

It was familiar.

Too familiar.

A voice that sounded exactly like Kael’s.

"Did you really think you could keep the promise from me?"

The woman went pale.

First User immediately closed his book.

The Observer stepped in front of Kael.

And from beyond the seventh doorway, another version of Kael began laughing.

"Come on."

A hand appeared around the edge of the door.

Its palm bore the same silver mark.

But unlike Kael’s, the broken chain was complete.

The figure slowly stepped into the hall.

It had Kael’s face.

Kael’s eyes.

Kael’s voice.

Yet there was something fundamentally wrong with its presence.

The woman whispered:

"No..."

The figure looked at her.

Then at First User.

Finally, its gaze settled on Kael.

"Hello, Carrier."

It smiled.

"I’m the one who made the promise."

The silver circle shattered.

And every bell beneath Aetheris began ringing.