Chapter 129: The Shadow of the Fallen Protagonist
The defeat of the Librarian left a lingering resonance of ink and old paper in the throne room, but the air soon turned cold—a different kind of cold than the winter of the mortal realm. This was the chill of a vacuum, the absolute zero of a world that had already been deleted. Volt stood by the Hearth of the Sovereign, his gaze fixed on a swirling vortex of grey mist that had begun to form in the center of the hall. This was not an invasion by the Council; it was an arrival.
Out of the mist stepped a warrior who looked like a dark reflection of Anos. He wore armor made of shattered void-glass, and a tattered cape that seemed to swallow the violet light of the hall. He carried no shield, only a massive, notched greatsword that bled black smoke. His eyes were not filled with the arrogance of a god, but the hollow exhaustion of someone who had seen his entire reality erased.
"Who are you to stand before the Demon King in his own sanctuary?" Anos demanded, his God-Slayer blade humming with a warning frequency. Akuto moved to the flank, his dark wings tensed, ready to strike at the first sign of hostility.
The stranger didn't raise his sword. Instead, he plunged it into the diamond floor and knelt, his head bowed. "I am Kaelen of the Dying Sun," the warrior rasped, his voice sounding like a ghost's whisper. "I am the protagonist of a story that no longer exists. The Council of Void-Walkers edited my world into non-existence because I refused to follow their 'Optimal Path.' I have spent eons drifting in the Null-Zone, searching for the one the resonance spoke of—the Author who fought back."
Volt walked down the steps of the central dais, his golden crest glowing with a welcoming but cautious light. He could see the data flowing off the stranger; it was corrupted, fragmented, and yet incredibly dense. This man was a survivor of a 100% deletion event. His very existence was a middle finger to the Council's authority.
"You seek a master?" Volt asked, his voice echoing through the hall.
"I seek a purpose," Kaelen replied, looking up. His eyes were voids, but within them, a small spark of violet light—Volt's resonance—was beginning to grow. "The Council is mobilizing the Multiversal Coalition. They are not just sending editors anymore; they are gathering the 'Main Characters' from a dozen compliant worlds. They are branding you as the 'Great Antagonist.' They will come to your empire, not as executioners, but as 'Heroes' seeking to save the multiverse from your influence."
Akuto scoffed, his Sakuna tendrils lashing out. "Heroes? We've killed gods and seraphim. What can a few self-righteous heroes do against the family of the Demon King?"
"You don't understand," Kaelen said, his voice urgent. "These heroes carry the 'Plot Armor' of the Council. The system is rigged to make them win. Their swords will hit harder because the 'Story' demands it. Their wounds will heal faster because they are 'Good.' You are fighting a war against the very concept of Narrative Logic."
Volt turned back to the Hearth, looking at the metaphysical map of his empire. The numbers were still climbing; his influence was now leaking into the surrounding dimensions. "Plot Armor is just a variable," Volt said, a cold smile playing on his lips. "And variables can be redefined. If the Council wants to play a game of Heroes and Villains, then I will simply change the genre of this multiverse."
Vanessa and Sasha joined the circle, their faces grave. "If what he says is true," Sasha noted, "we are no longer just defending a farm or a throne. We are defending the right for any character to choose their own ending."
"Precisely," Volt agreed. He looked at Kaelen of the Dying Sun. "Rise, Fallen One. I do not need a servant, but I can use a General who knows the Council's tactics. If you help us dismantle their Coalition, I will give you the ink to rewrite your own world from the ashes."
Kaelen stood, his void-glass armor reflecting the violet stars of Volt's sky. "Then let the 'Heroes' come. They will find that the 'Great Antagonist' has already burned their script."
Suddenly, the 12 million points of influence that Volt had accumulated flared. The system was sending an alert. At the edge of the Empire's territory, three massive signatures had appeared. They weren't divine or demonic; they were "Heroic." The Coalition's first strike team had arrived—The Paladin of the Sun, The Sage of the Frozen Time, and The Archer of Fate.
"They are here," Anos said, his eyes sharpening as he felt the approaching "Plot Armor" attempting to suppress his own aura. "The resonance is thick. The 'Story' is trying to force us into the role of the villains who lose in the final act."
Volt stepped to the balcony, his golden mark shining with a brilliance that pushed back the "Heroic" light approaching from the horizon. "Anos, take the Paladin. Akuto, the Sage. Kaelen, show the Archer what happens to a story that has no end. I will stay here and hold the pen. Today, we prove that even the most 'Perfect Hero' is nothing more than ink on a page—and ink can be spilled."
The three princes—the two sons of Volt and the new Fallen General—launched themselves into the sky. The air turned into a battlefield of competing narratives. The Paladin's light clashed with Anos's violet negation; the Sage's time-magic fought against Akuto's devouring hunger; and Kaelen's void-glass sword shattered the arrows of Fate.
The battle for the soul of the multiverse had entered its most dangerous phase. It was no longer a war of power, but a war of meaning. Volt sat on his throne, his fingers tracing new lines on the metaphysical parchment. He wasn't just watching a fight; he was editing the outcome in real-time.