NOVEL WEB Chapter 26: Chapter 20
CHAPTER 20: THE BROKEN THRONE
...
The Throne of Foresight
The next morning broke not with sunlight, but with ash.
Ash drifted in faint clouds beyond the Spire's windows, catching on the jagged edges of the glass like dust on cracked crystal. The Throne of Foresight stood silent but alive, its web of golden threads still faintly shimmering in the dim light. But they were no longer perfect.
They sparked when touched. They hissed when plucked. And some had snapped outright.
Zero sat slumped at its center, fingers bleeding divine faintly onto the arms of the Throne, his shoulders hunched as if weighed down by the shape of his own empire. He stared into the fraying web, his bloodshot eyes narrow and sharp, but not unafraid.
Inside, his thoughts were a storm.
He outplayed me. Paku… you always were chaos. I should have known you'd turn chaos into strategy.
One trembling hand rose again, reaching for a thread... and the moment he brushed it, the line of fate fizzled and dissolved into nothing. Blackened ash fell away from it, leaving a hole in the tapestry.
Zero closed his eyes briefly, breathing shallowly.
For the first time… in decades… I can no longer see what happens next.
And then, his lips curled faintly into something between a smile and a snarl.
But he spoke aloud, voice low but certain:
"I don't need foresight to break you, Paku. To overcome you. I am perfection. And I know what's right…"
His fingers flexed once, blood dripping down to the threads below.
He whispered to himself:
"Just that I ended up heavily relying on Erebus's power this time… to gain the edge."
For the first time, even in this chamber of prophecy, the name of the ancient god that slumbered beneath the Rupture was spoken aloud. Erebus.
And it sent a faint shiver through the air.
He stood. Slowly, carefully. Straightened his immaculate white coat despite the blood streaking his cuffs.
With a single gesture, the doors swung open.
Envy floated in first, her translucent form casting faint psionic ripples across the walls. Behind her came Sloth, slow and silent, his hood shadowing most of his features.
Zero's voice was calm. But it carried.
"Prepare Sector Zero."
Envy and Sloth exchanged a glance.
"Bring me the records," Zero continued, stepping down from the Throne with quiet authority. "I want everything... every scrap of data on Eden, and the Project Seraph architecture, all video footage of every camera and all Mr.P 's involvement in Eden. Bring it. Now."
They bowed. Wordlessly.
And he turned his eyes back to the ruined web of threads.
"This isn't over."
...
The Knife's Waking
In the Choir's hidden base beyond the ash-choked barrier, darkness reigned.
Luther lay still on the cot in Clone 3's private quarters, his breath shallow, his golden veins faintly pulsing beneath the bandages that wrapped his chest and arms.
He woke slowly. Disoriented.
The smell of stone and ash filled his lungs. Memories flashed in pieces... Naomi's scream as she fell a bullet hole through her head, the cold silence of Zero's throne room, his own body tearing apart as divine energy consumed him.
He tried to rise, but his body betrayed him. Too heavy. Too raw.
And then the door opened.
Clone 3 entered, gloved hands folded behind his back, his white mask catching the faint light from the cracked sigils above. He stood at the foot of the cot, still as a shadow.
"You're awake," Clone 3 said, voice eerily calm.
Luther's eyes narrowed weakly. "…Where…?"
"You're safe," Clone 3 replied. "For now. But don't mistake it. Eden still wants you dead."
Luther let his head fall back to the pillow. His throat was dry. "…Why… spare me…?"
Clone 3 tilted his head, considering him for a long moment.
And then answered, softly:
"Because you're not finished yet. And neither are we."
He turned and left.
Luther stared at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling slowly, whispering Naomi's name under his breath. His fists clenched just faintly at his sides, his golden veins glowing a little brighter.
...
The Choir Rises
An hour later, Clone 3 stood before the growing assembly of the Choir.
The ruined cathedral sanctuary was filled now... black banners rising, angry voices murmuring, sigils burning faintly on every surface. Their numbers had doubled since the last gathering, the atmosphere charged with dangerous purpose.
Clone 3 raised his hands, and silence fell.
He spoke:
"Continue sowing unrest in the streets of Eden."
His masked gaze swept across the congregation.
"Spread the whispers of Luther's escape. Tell them what the Observers hide. Let them wonder what else rots in their sanctuaries. Let them see the cracks in their glass towers."
He lowered his hands.
"They are already turning. And when the moment comes... when the tower falls — we will be waiting to step forward… as the saviors they always deserved."
He glanced once, just once, toward the door to his quarters. Where Luther lay beyond.
And to himself, he murmured:
"The knife isn't sharp yet… but soon it may pierce heaven itself."
...
The Streets of Eden
On the other side of the barrier, the streets burned.
And down one of those streets, between angry mobs and broken shop windows, walked Mr. P.
His tie was crooked. His cigarette burned low. His hands were in his pockets.
People shouted at him as he passed, mistaking him for another bystander.
"This city's falling apart!"
"Why doesn't someone stop them?!"
"Someone should just kill that monster already!"
He blew smoke into a young man's face as the boy shoved past him, muttering something rude.
Mr. P just grinned.
"Careful," he said lazily. "If you riot too hard you might actually accomplish something. Can't have that, now can we?"
A woman shrieked something about the Observers. Mr. P tipped an imaginary hat to her and replied:
"Oh, sweetheart, if you think they care what you think, you're even dumber than I was at your age."
He strolled past another protestor waving a banner, muttering just loud enough:
"You misspelled 'uprising,' by the way. It's a common mistake. I forgive you."
He reached the corner, flicked his cigarette into the gutter, and pushed through the door to his lab, whistling something that sounded like a lullaby.
And under his breath, he mused:
"Once the kid's back on his feet, we'll have to see what kind of spark he's got left. Gotta get that divine link burning hot again. Just gotta keep the facade up a little longer. He's bound to catch on soon…"
He smirked faintly to himself as he descended the stairs into the lab.
"Ah well. It keeps things interesting."
...
The Sanctuary
That night, Zero descended to the sanctuary.
The walls here hummed faintly, lined with ancient glyphs. In the center of the room, Seraph's pod stood tall, its occupant still as stone.
Zero moved slowly to the controls, his white coat trailing behind him.
He activated the siphon.
A faint golden light flared between the pod and his palms, soothing the sharpest of the pain lancing through his veins, quieting the cracks that spiderwebbed through his foresight.
For a moment, his breath evened.
And then his lips curled into something like a smile.
He spoke softly into the silence:
"Well played, Paku. You caught me drunk on power. I forgot how you think. How we both think."
His eyes glimmered faintly red as the light dimmed.
"Now… watch what I do next."
And his faint laughter echoed off the sanctuary walls as the lights flickered and the pod hissed shut again.
...
Closing Image
Outside the Spire, Eden trembled.
The Choir's black banners rose higher in the ash-choked wind.
Civilians rioted in the streets, shouting for blood.
The glass towers glimmered with cracks.
And far above them all, Zero stood still in the sanctuary, smiling faintly through his bleeding eyes.
The game was far from over.
...
END OF CHAPTER 20: THE BROKEN THRONE