Reincarnated with a lucky draw system

Chapter 614 614: BEGINING AND THE END

The immediate weight on his shoulders had vanished.

Aegon was dead.

He turned and looked at the Throne of All.

His first instinct was to walk away, to leave the obsidian chair and the blood-stained floor behind and never look back.

But as he stared at the seat, he felt the pulse of the nine entities.

He realized that the Throne wasn't just a chair; it was the anchor.

If he abandoned it now, the vacuum of power would cause the nine entities to collapse, snuffing out the lives of trillions.

He couldn't be the cause of that much death.

Aaron sat on the throne, feeling the ancient causality lock onto his soul.

With a focused thought, he split his essence, manifesting a clone beside him.

It was a perfect carbon copy, possessing his power, his memories, and his love.

"Take care of this entity," Aaron commanded the double.

"Protect everyone I love.

Keep them safe, keep them happy."

"What about you?" the clone asked, its voice an exact mirror of his own.

"I am going where they cannot follow," Aaron explained, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, seeing through the courtroom and into the higher realms.

"I will be fighting the legends who killed our father.

My chances of survival are slim, and I will not drag Rose or the others into a war of extinction.

I have severed our tie; even if they find me, they will never find you."

"Are you sure this is what you want?" the clone asked softly.

"It's what I must do," Aaron replied.

Without a final look back, and without a word of goodbye that might weaken his resolve, Aaron stood and stepped through the veil of reality.

He left the Nine Entities behind, stepping out into the cold, vast unknown to hunt the beings who had once called themselves the peers of Zereph.

The son of the King was coming for them, and he was bringing the gift of Destruction.

Aaron knelt in the absolute silence of the Null, the white expanse stretching into infinity.

The transition from the Nine Entities to this higher plane had not been a peaceful one.

Just as Aaron was about to rest and catch his breath.

A searing, white-hot agony erupted between his shoulder blades, forcing a cry from his throat that was swallowed by the vacuum.

For a being of his rank, physical illness was a forgotten concept, yet here he was, shivering with a cold that bypassed his flesh and settled deep in his marrow.

His temperature spiked to levels that should have ignited the atmosphere, had there been one.

Then, the mutation occurred.

Slowly, two wings tore from the fabric of his soul.

They weren't made of feathers or bone, but of an ethereal, transparent energy that flickered like a dying star.

Simultaneously, a cold burn manifested on his chest, etching the jagged symbol of a Scythe directly over his heart.

Aaron's breath came in ragged gasps.

Disbelief clouded his vision.

Of all the paths fate could have carved for him, it had chosen the most dangerous one.

He had awakened the Spectral Bloodline.

He wasn't just a threat to the Legends anymore; he was their ultimate predator.

He was the Reaper of the higher realms.

"Ah, damn.

Why can't I ever have an easy life?" Aaron groaned, the irony of his situation weighing heavier than the crown he had left behind.

But before he could lament his luck further, his consciousness was violently yanked from his physical form.

He plummeted into an internal world of absolute darkness, a void within a void.

High above this inner darkness hung a single, massive core, split perfectly down the middle.

One half pulsed with a dark, sinister crimson—the raw essence of Destruction.

The other half glowed with a soothing, celestial blu, the quintessence of Creation.

As Aaron watched, he felt a magnetic, soul-deep resonance.

He didn't just see the core; he recognized it.

Within each half lay a silhouette, a dormant piece of a legacy older than time.

The core fractured, and the white-blue half drifted toward him like a falling star.

He reached out.

The moment his fingers brushed the surface, the core merged with him.

The sensation was beyond "power."

It was Freedom.

Every restraint of his physical vessel, and every limit of causality simply ceased to exist.

He looked across the void and saw him.

Standing opposite Aaron was a young man with long, raven-black hair and skin as pale as moonlight.

He looked back at Aaron with a nonchalant, weary expression that masked a depth of power identical to Aaron's own.

The dark, crimson half of the core moved toward this stranger, sinking into his chest as naturally as a breath.

"Brother," Aaron whispered.

The word felt right, vibrating through the connection they shared, a bond forged before they were even born in their mother's womb.

Before Aaron could bridge the gap between them, the internal world blurred.

The darkness shattered, and his consciousness snapped back into his body in the white expanse of the Null.

"What the hell was that?" Aaron muttered, staring at his trembling hands.

He tested his newfound reality.

He stretched out his left palm, and with a simple thought, a miniature sun ignited in the center of his hand, radiating life and warmth.

He closed his fist, extinguishing the star, and opened it again to reveal a swirling, hungry black hole that distorted the light of the Null.

The realization hit him like a physical blow.

He held the Gift of Creation, the power to manifest anything he could imagine.

And his brother, his twin, separated by a King's sacrifice, held the Gift of Destruction.

"My brother... I have to find him," Aaron said, his voice firming with a new sense of purpose.

Their fates had converged at the beginning, were severed by necessity, and were now bound by blood and prophecy.

Aaron knew that the legends who murdered his father were waiting in the shadows of the Null, but he also knew a singular truth: he could not defeat them alone.

The Beginning and the End had to meet.