Gravity died first. Then came the crushing pressure of a collapsing dimension, tearing muscle from bone in a fraction of a microsecond. Pain wasn't a warning anymore; it was a physical weight, pressing against his consciousness until his senses blurred into a smear of red and violet. Wet cobblestones rushed up to meet Riley Ross's face with the force of a falling meteor, shattering his skull upon impact. Bones splintered into dust. His ribcage collapsed inward, puncturing his lungs and turning his chest into a wet bag of crushed calcium and torn flesh. Dark crimson pooled quickly on the damp stone, reflecting the violet sparks of a dying portal that hovered just feet above him. Seconds ticked by in absolute silence, the world around him quiet and uncaring of the wreckage that had just landed. Rebirth began with a sickening series of wet pops, the familiar, cold sensation of his absolute immortality kicking into overdrive. Torn arteries reconnected, weaving back together like frantic, blind earthworms seeking the warmth of his beating heart. Cracked ribs snapped back into alignment, pushing his lungs back to their proper shape with a hollow, wet click. Riley drew a sharp, sudden breath, his vision clearing as his retinas knitted themselves back into a flawless, icy blue state. Standing up, he brushed a smear of his own half-dried blood from his cheek, his expression entirely blank, devoid of any shock or terror. His heart rate, which had stopped entirely during the crash, resumed a steady, slow rhythm of sixty beats per minute. He looked down at his hands, watching the last of the deep lacerations on his palms seal themselves without leaving so much as a faint scar. Immortality was a boring cheat, but it was incredibly efficient, restoring him to perfect physical condition within a matter of seconds. He flexed his fingers, testing the grip of his hands, confirming that his physical strength was completely undiminished. --- Overhead, the spatial tear was still bleeding raw, blue energy into the foggy night air, crackling like a dying firework. King's golden eyes gleamed from the other side of the crackling threshold, radiating a smug, untouchable superiority that made Riley's jaw tighten. "Enjoy your exile, boy," a voice echoed through the dying rift, heavy with mocking satisfaction and the weight of a father's ultimate betrayal. Riley watched the portal shrink, his fingers curling into tight fists until his knuckles turned a stark, bloodless white against his dark coat. Pure, unadulterated fury flared in his chest, a hot fire that threatened to burn through his carefully constructed mask of apathy. Breathing slowly, he forced the heat down, burying it deep beneath layers of thick, freezing ice, refusing to give his father the satisfaction of seeing him break. Anger was useless. It was a chaotic variable that clouded judgment, and Riley hated variables more than he hated his father's smug face. "You think you've won," he whispered, his voice dropping to a dangerous, flat register as the final spark of the rift winked out. Darkness swallowed the alleyway, leaving only the smell of ozone, wet garbage, and the cold reality of his new situation behind. He was truly alone in a foreign world, stripped of his empire, his resources, his loyal subordinates, and his throne. A slow, humorless smile touched the corners of his lips, his eyes reflecting the faint, unfamiliar starlight from above. This wasn't a prison; it was an untapped goldmine, a fresh canvas waiting for him to paint it with the blood of his enemies. His father had tried to discard him like trash, throwing him into the deep unknown to rot and die in obscurity. But King had forgotten one crucial detail: Riley didn't rot, and he certainly didn't die. He adapted, conquered, and rebuilt. If this new universe had its own rules, its own gods, and its own systems of power, Riley would simply have to master them. He would find the strongest beings this world had to offer, let them kill him, and steal their power to fuel his ultimate vengeance. --- High walls of rough-hewn stone rose on either side of the narrow alley, slick with condensation and green mold. Strange, metallic tangs hung in the air, vastly different from the smog-heavy, chemically saturated atmosphere of his home city. Looking up, he noticed the sky was a deep, bruised violet, dotted with constellations he had never seen in any astronomical chart. His core cheat—the passive ability to permanently copy the skills of anyone who successfully ended his life—was still humming beneath his skin. It was a broken, unfair power, one that turned every defeat into an immediate, permanent upgrade to his personal arsenal. To conquer this new world, he didn't need to train for decades or beg for scraps of power from local masters. He simply needed to find them, provoke them into killing him, and let his absolute immortality do the rest. It was a simple, elegant strategy that required zero empathy, absolute patience, and a complete disregard for his own physical pain. Footsteps wouldn't be heard here; the silence of this alley was thick, almost suffocating, as if the city itself was holding its breath. He closed his eyes, tuning out the distant, muffled hum of a bustling metropolis he didn't yet recognize. If his father thought a change of scenery would break his spirit, the old man had severely miscalculated his son's capacity for malice. "I will tear down whatever gods rule this place," Riley murmured, testing the weight of the words on his tongue in the quiet dark. Every dimension had its limits, its rules, and its inherent flaws. He would find those flaws, exploit them, and use them to construct a throne that even King couldn't shatter. --- Alleyways twisted and turned like a maze of ancient stone, leading him deeper into what appeared to be an old, coastal city. He could smell the sea now, a sharp mix of salt, rotting fish, and wet wood drifting from some nearby harbor. But there was something else in the air, a subtle, heavy pressure that wasn't physical, but spiritual in nature. It felt like a thick fog of energy, clinging to the buildings, the streets, and even the air he breathed. In his home world, power was cold, mechanical, and bound by the strict laws of physics and advanced technology. Here, power was alive, organic, and waiting to be shaped by those with the will to command it. He felt a sudden, clinical curiosity prickle at his mind, a desire to dissect this new energy and make it his own. If he could copy a technique that allowed dimensional travel, he could return home whenever he pleased and take his revenge. But why rush back when there was an entire multiverse of powers waiting to be plundered? He would take his time, building his strength until he was an unstoppable force that no dimension could contain. --- A high-pitched resonance vibrated in the air, humming at the exact frequency of his home world's portal tech. He stopped, his eyes shifting back toward the sky where the rift had closed. Spatial feedback was looping. He could feel the distinct energy signatures of Hannah and her chaotic counterpart, Nannah, trapped in the dimensional slipstream. They had been dragged into his wake when King banished him, their life forces tethered to his own absolute presence. It was only a matter of time before the universe's natural friction forced them out at his exact coordinates. He didn't feel relief, nor did he feel concern for their safety. People were tools, and his sister was a highly efficient one, while Nannah made for an excellent, chaotic distraction. Having them here would make conquering this new world significantly easier. --- Heavy footsteps began to echo from the deep, damp shadows of the dead-end alley. Air grew instantly frigid, thick with a foul, pungent odor that smelled of sulfur, old blood, and burning metal. Riley didn't flinch, his gaze locking onto the darkness as a pair of glowing, crimson eyes slowly opened in the gloom. This was the first test of this foreign world's ecosystem, a raw, predatory threat. His pulse remained a steady, calm rhythm, his mind already calculating the beast's attack vectors. If this creature managed to kill him, his copy cheat would trigger, granting him whatever biological weapon or physical attribute it possessed. He welcomed the challenge with a cold, hollow hunger. A sudden, violent crackle of purple lightning tore through the air directly beside him, shattering the silence. Spatial feedback had finally reached its boiling point, warping the very air into a blinding vortex of raw, dimensional energy. As Hannah and the chaotic Nannah materialize beside him, a massive, multi-legged magical beast emerges from the shadows, its jaws dripping with corrosive acid, pinning them against a dead-end wall.

Ashes of the First Crown