Chapter 2: The Fractured Truth

Darkness. Again.

The weight of infinite lives pressed on him. He had been a hero, a fugitive, a lover, a soldier. He had fought wars, escaped dystopias, survived plagues, and touched the edge of cosmic madness.

But who was he really?

The eldritch voice echoed through the void.

"You seek the truth? Then walk the path."

Light exploded around him.

And then—he was falling.

The Sixth World – The Kingdom of Lies

He hit the ground hard. Dust and sand kicked up as he groaned, rolling onto his back. Above him, two suns burned in the sky. The air smelled of spices, sweat, and something rotten.

A city surrounded him—golden domes, twisting alleys, markets bustling with people dressed in flowing robes and masked faces. A desert kingdom.

He looked down at himself. New clothes. A dark cloak, a dagger strapped to his belt, a coin pouch filled with unfamiliar currency.

"There he is!"

A shout.

He turned—three guards in red armor rushed toward him, scimitars drawn.

"Oh, come on."

His feet moved on their own, instincts taking over. He sprinted into the market, weaving through merchants and shouting vendors.

"Stop the thief!"

Thief?

Was he a criminal here?

A hand grabbed his wrist.

He spun, a woman with piercing silver eyes staring at him beneath her veil.

"You're late," she hissed.

"Late for what?!"

She didn’t answer. She shoved a scroll into his hand.

"Get it to the Sultan before midnight, or we’re both dead."

Then she vanished into the crowd.

The guards were still after him. He had no idea who he was in this world, but one thing was clear—

He was already part of a bigger story.

The Seventh World – The Machine Mind

ERROR.

The desert shattered like glass.

Now—cold metal, blinking lights, the hum of a vast spaceship.

He gasped, clutching his head. The transition was getting faster.

"Commander Orion, we’re receiving a distress signal from the Outer Rim."

He turned toward the voice. A woman in a sleek spacesuit stood at attention, glowing data panels reflected in her visor.

Commander Orion? Was that him?

He checked his reflection in a screen. A sharp uniform. A badge with his name. His mind filled with new knowledge—star charts, battle strategies, the weight of command.

He had no time to process it.

"Sir! The anomaly is growing!"

Outside the viewport, a black hole pulsed unnaturally. And from its depths—

Something was coming through.

The Eighth World – The Forbidden Cult

Pain.

A ritual chamber. Candlelight flickered against stone walls covered in blood symbols.

He was tied to an altar.

Chanting filled the air. Hooded figures surrounded him, their voices rising in an eerie, rhythmic hum. A robed cult leader raised a dagger above him.

"The vessel is ready. Let the Great One take its host!"

Oh, HELL no.

Adrenaline surged. He twisted, ropes biting into his wrists. His mind screamed—he had to break free!