The fire of the First Realm still pulsed in the void, but the air had changed. Not in heat or silence—but in something deeper. A hum, low and eternal, moved like a breath between stars. Zayn could feel it under his skin.
He stood on a new plateau—one that hadn't existed moments ago. It had appeared beneath his feet as if the realm itself acknowledged him. The laws here were different. Truth wasn't truth. Time wasn't time. Even memory trembled like a frightened child.
Behind him, his celestial maidens recovered slowly. Aelina, Mira, and Lyria steadied each other. Their godly auras flickered with strain, but their eyes stayed locked on Zayn.
They trusted him—no matter what realm they entered.
"This place," Zayn murmured, "isn't made of matter. It's made of… regret."
Aelina stepped beside him. "Regret?"
Zayn pointed upward. There were no stars. Instead, floating fragments of moments shimmered in the sky—memories not his own. Scenes of lovers never united. Heroes who died too early. Villains who wept alone. The realm was a tapestry of possibilities that never came true.
It was the Realm of Forgotten Truths.
A realm born from what should've been.
Suddenly, the sky cracked. A blade made of moonlight and shadow fell from above, aimed at Zayn's head.
He caught it between two fingers.
The air screamed.
The figure behind the blade landed—a woman with eyes like black stars and a cloak stitched from lost names. She knelt instantly.
"Forgive me, Sovereign. This realm tests even the loyal."
Zayn narrowed his eyes. "You're a guardian. But you were born from regret. You don't serve. You remember."
"Yes," she whispered. "My name is Irava. I am the Keeper of What Never Was. And you… you are the first to survive entry."
He looked around. "Where is the heart of this realm? The source of its sorrow?"
Irava trembled. "Deeper than time. Beyond sense. You must walk alone. Only the one who carries forbidden blood may step into the Hollow of Broken Destinies."
Zayn nodded once. He turned to his maidens. "Wait here. This battle… it must be mine alone."
They did not argue.
He walked.
Every step pulled him through different versions of himself—Zayn the Betrayer, Zayn the Slave, Zayn the Forgotten. Each life whispered to him, pleading for closure.
He walked.
Through corridors of lightless void and memory rivers. Through ancient cities swallowed by silence. Through mirrors that cried out his name.
Until he reached it.
The Hollow.
It was not a place. It was a feeling—a hole inside existence. The center of the Realm of Forgotten Truths. In it floated a single item:
A cradle.
Within it… a child.
A child with Zayn's eyes.
He staggered.
His Forbidden Blood surged, confused, angry, hurt. This was not possible. He had never had a child.
And yet…
He remembered.
A life before this one. A love before time. A child born but lost, erased from existence.
This realm had found it. Preserved it.
"Father," the child whispered.
Zayn fell to his knees.
He touched the child's face. Warm. Real.
"You exist."
"I always did," the boy said. "But the gods feared me. Feared your blood in me. So, they removed me from the weave. This realm took me in."
Zayn's tears fell—not from pain, but from overwhelming truth.
And behind him, the stars stirred.
The Whisper Beyond Realms had found him.
Zayn rose, holding the child in his arms.
"You took from me," he growled, flames cracking around his aura. "Now I take back everything."
A storm unlike any the Realms had known began to swirl. Black lightning. Crimson flame. Timeless winds. Destiny itself began to shift.
He stepped from the Hollow.
His maidens gasped.
The child in his arms opened golden eyes.
A new force had awakened.
The Sovereign's Legacy had returned.
And now, Zayn was not alone.
He was father.
He was vengeance.
He was truth.