Chapter 14: Fractures of the Forgotten
Kieran stared into Iris's eyes, feeling a strange ripple within the core of his soul. It was as though time itself had hiccupped, realigning to accommodate this impossible truth.
"You were supposed to die," he murmured, stepping closer. "In the prologue, you—"
"Was sacrificed," Iris interrupted, her voice calm yet bitter. "Thrown into the flames of the cathedral to awaken Aleron's resolve. My death was the world's currency for his purpose."
"And yet here you are." Kieran circled her slowly, gaze sharpened. "You survived the system's script."
"I woke up… a day before the ritual," Iris said, folding her arms. "The memories of my past life came crashing down like a wave. I tried to run, but the cathedral found me. I killed three priests. Burned half the altar. And then… I vanished."
"You've been hiding all this time."
"Observing," she corrected. "Waiting to see who would defy the script next. And then you arrived."
Kieran said nothing, his thoughts spinning. This changed everything.
"How long have you known?" he asked finally.
"That you weren't from this world?" Iris smirked faintly. "The moment you looked at the Emperor's envoy like he was beneath you. No one in this realm carries that kind of disdain without reason."
Kieran couldn't help the short laugh that escaped him. "And now?"
"Now I want in," she said. "You're not just trying to survive, Kieran. You're trying to burn the whole stage down."
Her words were a spark to dry tinder.
"I won't follow," she continued. "But I'll walk beside you… if you'll have me."
Kieran stared at her for a long moment, the gears turning behind his amethyst eyes.
"You'll need to prove yourself."
Iris smiled. "Thought you'd say that."
---
That night, under the blood-soaked moon, Kieran summoned his generals to the obsidian war table. Iris stood at his side, cloaked again in her veil, watching the others with unreadable eyes.
Selene's gaze lingered on her sharply. "Who is she?"
"A ghost," Kieran replied. "One that shouldn't exist—just like me."
"She claims to have been part of the Divine Script's early cycle," Iris said. "And I've seen what the Cathedral does to people like us. We have two options: die quietly… or rewrite the ending."
Veyra leaned forward. "Another foreign soul… We could use her knowledge."
Riven only grunted. "Or she's lying, setting a trap."
"She isn't," Kieran said, cutting the conversation short. "I believe her. And more importantly, I've seen the alternative. If we don't start cutting out the rot now, we'll be buried beneath it."
He looked at the map. "We strike the Cathedral."
Silence followed his words.
"You mean directly?" Selene asked, eyes wide.
"Yes. We raid their central archives beneath the Sun Tower. The Divine Manuscripts are hidden there—records of every rewritten fate, every transmigrated soul. With them, we gain foresight."
Veyra frowned. "You'll draw the wrath of the entire Order of Light."
Kieran's smile was cold. "Then let them come. I'm done playing defense."
---
The next day, preparations began.
Blackspire's forges roared with renewed fury as weapons were tempered in cursed flame. The assassins of the Nightborne were dispatched ahead to scout the Cathedral's secret passages. Spymasters and summoners worked through sleepless nights decoding old seals.
And Iris…
She stood alone in the high tower, staring out at the crimson horizon, her fingers wrapped tightly around a medallion that bore the broken crest of the Cathedral.
"It was all so easy," she whispered to herself. "Back on Earth, we thought stories were entertainment. But here, they're prison walls."
Footsteps approached. Selene.
"You still haven't explained why you waited so long to reveal yourself."
Iris didn't turn. "Because I was afraid. Not of death—but of hope. I thought if I kept running, I'd eventually disappear. But seeing Kieran fight back… seeing him change the world…"
Selene's expression remained guarded. "He's not a hero."
"No," Iris agreed. "But neither is Aleron. One kills for power, the other for righteousness. In the end, both leave corpses in their wake."
"You sound like you admire him."
Iris finally turned. "I understand him. And that's far more dangerous."
---
The night of the raid arrived.
Kieran led his elite strike force through the catacombs that ran like veins beneath Solaria. The passageways were carved by forgotten heretics—only Iris knew the path. The scent of holy incense mixed with the stench of mildew and decay.
Each step forward was a step deeper into the lion's den.
"We pass the Vault of Whispers in the next chamber," Iris whispered. "That's where they store names."
"Names?" Veyra echoed behind her.
"Names of those fated to rise or fall. A living record of fate."
They entered the chamber.
Dozens of crystalline pillars rose from the ground, each glowing faintly with swirling gold light. Inside each pillar hovered a name, suspended midair. Some pulsed weakly. Others glowed like miniature suns.
Kieran approached one.
[Aleron Duskbane] — Favored
He moved to the next.
[Kieran Vale] — Condemned
He stared at it.
"You're branded by the system," Iris said quietly. "No matter what you do, it will try to kill you. Even if you win… it will find another way."
Kieran reached out and touched the crystal.
A wave of force exploded outward, knocking the others back. Images flashed in his mind: a battlefield of broken gods, the sun blackened, Aleron dying by his blade… and yet the world rejecting him even in victory.
He gritted his teeth. "Then I'll change the rules."
A sound echoed in the chamber—a low rumble.
The system had noticed.
> [ALERT: Unauthorized Contact Detected]
[Divine Guardians En Route]
[Stability: 37%]
"Time's up," Riven growled, drawing his twin daggers. "We've got incoming."
"We take what we can and get out," Kieran ordered.
Selene and Iris began to extract the names, pouring them into stasis scrolls. Riven and Veyra took positions near the door. The runes on the wall flared as holy fire lit the tunnel ahead.
Then they came.
Golden-armored knights descended like thunder, wielding weapons etched with divine light. At their head was a figure clad in radiance—Archon Cassiel, the Sunblade.
"The heretics crawl from their pits," he sneered, raising his blade. "This ends here, Sovereign."
Kieran drew his sword.
"We're just getting started."
The chamber erupted into war.
Selene's barrier spells shimmered like crystal domes, deflecting blasts of light. Riven vanished into shadow, reappearing behind one knight to slit his throat before slipping away. Veyra fought like a storm, her axe carving paths through plated armor.
Iris stood still—chanting.
Golden light surged toward her. She raised her palm, and a wall of flame erupted, swallowing the oncoming bolt. Her magic wasn't just powerful—it was foreign, untraceable by the system.
Cassiel lunged toward Kieran.
Blades clashed, light against shadow.
"You should never have existed," the Archon snarled.
"And yet I'm the one standing in your vault," Kieran spat back.
Their battle became a blur of fury and will. Sparks flew. Walls cracked. And then—Kieran's sword cut through Cassiel's helm, drawing blood.
The Archon stumbled, stunned.
"You… are not of this world…"
Kieran whispered, "Neither are you," before driving his blade through the Archon's heart.
The chamber fell silent.
System messages flooded Kieran's vision.
> [Archon Cassiel Defeated]
[System Instability Increased]
[Status: Unchained]
They had done it.
They had stolen from the gods and lived.
---
Hours later, back in Blackspire, Kieran stood before the scrolls of fate. They hovered in the air like ghosts.
A hundred names. Some bright. Some fading. One caught his eye.
[Iris Vallen] — Erased
His heart paused.
She had no place in this world—not even in the script.
Which meant… she had nothing left to lose.
Iris approached behind him.
"Still think I'm a ghost?" she asked softly.
Kieran turned to face her. "No. You're a spark in a world of dry paper."
She smiled. "Then let's burn it all."