The world changed before they woke.
Not gradually.
Not with signs.
But instantly—like reality had skipped a page.
The fire was still burning.
But the sky above them had no moon.No stars.Only a blank ceiling.
As if they had fallen asleep in the forest…
And awakened inside a thought.
The boy stood first.
The girl followed.
They were underground again.
But not beneath earth.
Beneath consciousness.
She whispered, "Is this…"
He nodded.
"Yes."
"The Sixth Vault."
There was no door.
No boundary.
Just existence.
Stretched thin.Flickering at the edges.
The sword floated beside him now—no longer held.
Its five eyes wide open.
Watching.Recording.
Screaming silently.
The girl tried to speak.
No sound came out.
Not even her thoughts were hers anymore.
The Vault was speaking through her.Listening through her.
Ahead—
A throne.
Shaped from roots.
But not from trees.
From veins.
Still pulsing.
Still alive.
Upon it—a shape.
Not human.
Not god.
Just… aware.
He stepped forward.
Every footstep aged him.
His hands cracked.His bones bent.His heart beat louder.
The girl screamed in silence.
He was dying with each step.
But he kept going.
Because he had to know.
What lay in the final Vault.
The shape opened its eyes.
And time froze.
Not around them.
Inside them.
The sword shattered.
Not into pieces—
Into memories.
The girl gasped.
She saw it all.
A child born in a lab.Fed chakra laced with dead gods.Eyes carved open by monks who no longer believed in mercy.
A promise made:
"Open the Vaults, and your past will be erased."
But they never told him the truth—
He was a Vault too.
The Sixth Vault didn't speak.
It remembered.
It bled.
It showed him everything he'd forgotten.
Every failure.Every lie.Every version of himself that opened one more door…and became something less.
He dropped to his knees.
Not in surrender.
In understanding.
The final Vault wasn't waiting to be opened.
It had already been open.
Since the beginning.
And the only way to close it—
Was to stop existing.
The girl knelt beside him.
Her body flickered.
Not because of time.
Because of choice.
She had never been real.
Only memory.Only creation.Born in the second Vault—a fragment of the god of mirrors.
She didn't cry.
She just said:
"I stayed because you needed something to hold on to."
He whispered:
"Then stay now."
She touched his face.
"I can't. If you close the Vault… I go with it."
The throne pulsed again.
A voice filled the chamber.
But it wasn't words.
It was him.
Every version.Every chain.
Speaking at once.
"You are the lock and the key.The prison and the warden.The creator and the curse."
The boy stood.
His body breaking.
His eye spinning so fast it bled.
And he asked a single question:
"If I close it… what happens to the world?"
The voice answered:
"Nothing."
"But it will finally stop screaming."
He looked at the girl.
Smiled, broken.
Then walked to the throne.
The sword floated into his hand—what was left of it.
The sixth eye opened.
It didn't blink.
It wept.
And then—
He stabbed it into the heart of the throne.
Everything vanished.
Not shattered.
Not destroyed.
Just… undone.
A boy wakes up beside a river.
He's alone.
No sword.
No memories.
No girl.
Just peace.
He touches his face.
There is no eye.
No chain.
No weight.
He smiles, not knowing why.
Somewhere behind the clouds, a Vault sleeps.
Closed.
Dreamless.
Waiting for no one.
End of Arc 1: The Chain of Vaults
To be continued in Arc 2: The War of Forgotten Gods…