The moment Zayn sat upon the Throne of Creation; the fabric of all realms trembled. Stars blinked in reverence. Dimensions folded around his heartbeat. Time coiled at his feet like a loyal hound.
This throne was no mere symbol. It was the origin. The seat from which the laws of existence could be rewritten—not with force, but with choice.
As he exhaled, entire galaxies synchronized with his breath.
Behind him, the celestial maidens knelt in silent awe. They could feel it—not just power, but purpose. Zayn was no longer the Sovereign who rose above realms.
He had become the one who defined them.
Zyros floated beside him, the child's golden eyes reflecting eternity. "You have reached the Axis, Father. Now, every decision you make will echo forever."
Zayn nodded. "Then I must choose carefully."
He reached out—and before him appeared threads.
Millions of them.
Each thread a destiny. A life. A choice.
Some glowed with hope. Some writhed with sorrow. Others pulsed with chaos.
Zayn reached for one, a thread glowing crimson and silver.
As he touched it, an entire future unfolded in his mind:
A war among the Realms.
A betrayal from one of his own.
A maiden's heart torn by fate.
And a boy—Zyros—standing alone at the edge of time.
Zayn released the thread.
"No future is perfect," he said. "But some are worth the pain."
Zyros smiled. "Then make it so."
Zayn raised his hand.
The threads began to weave.
Reality responded.
Mountains shifted. Dead stars reignited. Old enemies woke with uneasy dread.
But at the center of it all, Zayn stood unwavering.
Far away, in the Domain of Divine Witnesses, the ancient ones gathered.
"He has taken the Throne," one hissed.
"He does not destroy. He shapes. That is worse," murmured another.
"Shall we stop him?"
The oldest among them, a being made of light and prayer, sighed. "No. You don't stop the wind. You kneel and let it pass."
Back at the Throne, the maidens stepped forward.
Aelina: "What will you build first?"
Zayn looked at each of them—at Lyria, Mira, Eira, Saphine, Nyla, and all the others. They had loved him through war, madness, memory, and flame.
"I will build a realm for us," he said. "A home that no war can reach. Where our son can laugh. Where time is a friend."
Tears sparkled in Mira's eyes. "That sounds like heaven."
"No," Zayn said, smiling. "That sounds like hope."
He clenched his fist.
From the Throne, light surged.
A realm began to form.
Not from code or command—but from love.
Floating islands formed in the sky, tethered by rivers of starlight. Trees grew from music. Oceans sang lullabies. It was a world that remembered joy, grief, and everything in between.
The Realm of Remembrance.
Zayn's gift to those he loved.
But as he shaped paradise… a shadow loomed.
Far beyond creation, something stirred.
A presence older than law.
One that had been watching since Zayn first awakened.
It did not scream.
It simply waited.
Its name had been lost.
But its hunger had not.
Zyros shivered. "Father… something is coming. Something worse than forgetting. Worse than the Echo."
Zayn nodded slowly. "Then let it come. This time, it will face a throne, not a blade."
In the Realm of Remembrance, stars began to hum.
A war of truths and lies was about to begin.
But Zayn? He would not run.
He was the one before time.
The flame beneath memory.
The father of the future.
And now… destiny itself would kneel.