Jalen had been walking for two weeks.
Two weeks of dragging himself forward, step after agonizing step, through the wasteland that used to be the Verdant Expanse. Two weeks of watching Lucio's condition worsen, of rationing what little supplies they had left, of keeping Rhea and Nathan stable, despite his own wounds.
The once-lush jungle was nothing now—just barren, cracked earth stretching endlessly beneath a suffocatingly empty sky. No shade. No life. No sound except the wind, howling through the graveyard of a land that should have never died.
His body ached, his glyphs still flickered erratically—unstable, shifting between hues like they couldn't decide what he was supposed to feel. He didn't know either.
The only thing keeping him upright was the destination ahead.
Everlock.
The Kingdom of the Self-Made King.
The city walls loomed ahead, colossal, blackened steel, stretching farther than Jalen expected. Massive banners bearing the Everlock sigil waved high above, gold and obsidian woven into its crest.
It looked like a fortress.
Not just a city—but a statement.
"Kullen did this in two weeks?" Nathan muttered hoarsely, barely able to lift his head from where he lay on one of the spectral cots Jalen had summoned. "You sure this isn't some other kingdom?"
Rhea stirred, voice weak. "It's… huge."
Jalen didn't respond. His legs felt heavy, his vision blurred, but he kept moving—dragging himself and his friends toward the only place left to go.
And then—
The gates opened before he even reached them.
They'd been expected.
A squad of heavily armed soldiers marched forward, their movements precise, synchronized—too trained to be ordinary mercenaries. Their armor was sleek, dark, adorned with the same gold and black as the banners.
At the front stood a woman, her posture rigid, eyes sharp, her uniform denoting high rank. She looked them over, gaze lingering on Jalen's bloodstained clothes, his flickering glyphs, then at Lucio's barely-breathing form.
Jalen didn't have the energy for introductions. "He needs a healer," he rasped, gesturing weakly toward Lucio.
The woman didn't move, her expression unreadable. "Jalen."
Nathan tensed beside him. "...We're already on a first-name basis? That's not a good sign."
The woman lifted her chin, addressing the squad without taking her eyes off Jalen. "Secure them. Bring the wounded to the medical ward. The king will decide what happens next."
Jalen's fists clenched. "We're not prisoners."
"You're not guests, either," she shot back. "You'll get your healer. But don't forget where you are."
"B- Bite me bitc-" Before Jalen could finish, he passed out, causing the spectral cots to disappear, as well as dropping his friends.
Pain.
That was the first thing Jalen felt. A dull, aching weight pressing into his body like he'd been crushed and barely put back together. His limbs were heavy, his mind foggy, but the softness beneath him—the feeling of an actual bed—was so foreign after two weeks of pure agony that it almost felt fake.
He tried to move. Bad idea. A sharp sting ran up his side, reminding him just how wrecked he was.
'Where am I?'
The ceiling above him was smooth stone, intricate carvings running along its surface. Not the makeshift wooden beams of some village infirmary—this was something grander.
Something built with purpose.
Then he heard a voice.
"You always did have a way of making an entrance."
Jalen's eyes snapped open.
Sitting at the foot of his bed, legs crossed, posture completely at ease, was Kullen.
Kullen's black hair was neatly cropped, a gold-streaked crown resting against his white skin, contrasting against his deep emerald eyes—eyes that still held that same knowing glint, the same intelligence Jalen remembered.
He wore a tailored black and gold coat, high-collared, sleek, and cut to perfection. Beneath that, a dark tunic, reinforced but luxurious—not the garb of a warrior, but of a ruler. The rings on his fingers, the jewels embedded into his cuffs, everything about him exuded power.
Not arrogance.
Just undeniable control.
"Figured you'd sleep a little longer," Kullen mused, leaning forward slightly, his smirk familiar—but distant. "You looked like hell when they brought you in. Thought I'd have to commission a funeral instead of a recovery room."
Jalen blinked slowly, his mind still piecing itself together. "...How long?"
"Three days," Kullen replied smoothly. "Long enough for the healers to patch you up, but not long enough to fix whatever the hell you did to yourself."
Jalen groaned, shifting slightly. He could feel the bandages wrapped tight around his ribs, the faint hum of magic lingering in his muscles, but… something still felt off. His glyphs weren't burning anymore, but they weren't calm either.
They weren't gone.
Kullen caught the shift in his expression immediately. "Don't look at me. You broke yourself—I just made sure you didn't die before I got some answers."
"Figures." Jalen exhaled, trying to sit up more. "Where's—"
"They're fine," Kullen cut in, voice steady but firm. "Rhea's already up and moving, annoying half my staff. Nathan's got enough stitches to be mistaken for a patchwork doll, but he's alive. And Lucio…"
Jalen tensed.
Kullen sighed. "Still in critical condition. But our friends don't go down easy, you already knew that."
Jalen clenched his fists. Relief. Guilt. Frustration. It all mixed together, making his glyphs pulse faintly beneath his skin.
Then, a new voice cut through the tension.
"You should be grateful. If it weren't for His Majesty's generosity, you'd be rotting outside the walls instead of breathing in his palace."
Jalen's gaze snapped toward the corner of the room, where the soldier stood.
She was just as sharp as she had been at the gate—tall, lean, built like a blade meant for war. Her long, dark purple hair was tied up in a high ponytail, her eyes a piercing amber, studying Jalen with thinly veiled scrutiny.
Her uniform was sleek, military, but custom. A black and gold combat coat, sleeveless to allow for full range of movement, high boots, reinforced gloves, and a single curved blade strapped to her hip.
Jalen could tell at a glance—she wasn't just some commanding officer.
She was dangerous.
"Don't mind her," Kullen said lazily, waving a hand. "Kuromi's always tense around people who could potentially blow up my city."
"I don't trust people who can level an entire region on a whim," Kuromi corrected flatly, arms crossed. "Or those who waltz in expecting help after leaving nothing but ruin in their wake."
Jalen gave her a pointed look. "If you're referring to Stabilous, that was over two years ago and I wasn't given a choice."
Kuromi's jaw tightened slightly, but she didn't argue.
"Relax," Kullen said, his smirk widening slightly. "I wouldn't have let them in if I thought they were a liability." He turned back to Jalen, his eyes sharp. "Which brings me to my next point—"
His gaze darkened just slightly.
"What the hell happened out there? And when did you become this beacon of power? A power that has the capabilities to destroy countries and force nations to constantly redraw world maps!?"
Jalen leaned back against the plush pillows, exhaling slowly. His body still ached, his glyphs buzzed faintly beneath his skin, but his mind was clear enough to recognize what was happening. Kullen wasn't just asking for details.
He was testing him.
Jalen had known Kullen for years—before they were reincarnated, before all of this. He knew how his mind worked, how he played his games. Everything Kullen did had a purpose. If he wanted the truth, he'd get it one way or another.
Jalen wasn't about to just give it to him.
Instead, he tilted his head, studying his old friend with a faint smirk. "I was going to ask you the same thing," he said, voice hoarse but steady. "Two weeks, Kullen? A full-fledged kingdom in two weeks? Seems like you had some help."
Kullen's expression didn't change—his signature smirk was still in place—but Jalen saw the flicker of amusement behind his sharp emerald eyes. "Oh?" he mused. "You think I just stumbled into this?"
Jalen's smirk didn't waver. "You were never the type to build anything from scratch. You take, Kullen. You manipulate. You move pieces on the board until the whole damn game belongs to you. So tell me—how did you get Everlock?"
Kullen chuckled, leaning forward. "That's a dangerous way to phrase it, Jalen. Makes it sound like I stole something."
Jalen shrugged. "Did you?"
Kullen just smiled.
Then, in the span of a single heartbeat, the entire room changed.
The air shifted, heavy and oppressive. Reality itself seemed to warp, bending at the edges like fabric being twisted in unseen hands. Jalen's breath caught—his vision blurred—his thoughts slowed.
'A voice—no, Kullen's voice!' Whispered directly into his mind.
"Sit back, relax, let your mind settle."
The world around him pulsed. His limbs felt heavy, his senses dulled. A strange warmth crawled up his spine, urging him to sink deeper into the comfort of the bed, to stop thinking, to just listen.
"No need to resist. This is just a conversation."
Kullen's ability.
Jalen gritted his teeth.
He knew exactly what this was.
Kullen's power had always been subtle. It wasn't raw destruction like Jalen's or direct control like Nathan's. It was influential.
Persuasion at an absolute level.
It wasn't mind control. No, that would be too easy. Kullen didn't force people to do things.
He simply made them want to.
Jalen felt it working on him—his thoughts untangling, his breathing slowing, his resolve melting like wax beneath a slow flame.
'Damn it. If I were anyone else...'
The warmth pressing into his mind suddenly met resistance. His regulator adjusted, shifting in response, adapting as if it had always been waiting for this exact moment.
Jalen's thoughts snapped back into focus, clearer than before.
He exhaled sharply, meeting Kullen's gaze with a slow, amused grin.
"Nice try," Jalen muttered.
Kullen blinked once. Then, for the first time, his smirk faltered.
The weight in the air vanished. The room snapped back to normal.
For a brief second, there was silence.
Then Kullen laughed.
A genuine, full-bodied laugh, shaking his head in what seemed to be actual amusement. "You tricky son of a bitch," he muttered. "You weren't even supposed to notice that."
Jalen stretched his arms, exhaling dramatically. "Oh no, I noticed. You almost got me, though. Almost."
Kuromi, who had been standing off to the side, tensed visibly. Her sharp amber eyes flickered between the two of them, realization dawning in her expression.
"You resisted his influence?" she asked, voice quiet but laced with disbelief.
Jalen shot her a lazy smirk. "I adapt fast."
Kullen leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "You really do. That's interesting."
Jalen narrowed his eyes. He knew that tone. That was Kullen's "I-just-discovered-a-new-piece-of-the-game" tone. He wasn't sure he liked it.
"Alright," Kullen said, waving a hand. "You win this round. Let's stop playing." His gaze sharpened. "Tell me what happened out there."
Jalen hesitated for just a moment, then sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. You want the truth?"
And so, he told him everything.
He spoke about Kaelin and the village, finding Lucio and Nathan, Rhea and Stix, and even his powers and the story behind his regulator.
By the time Jalen finished, the room felt heavier.
Kullen tapped his fingers against the armrest of his chair, looking down at the polished floor as if considering his next move.
Kuromi stood eerily still, her arms crossed tightly, expression unreadable.
Nathan and Rhea were still recovering, but Jalen knew they would have their own thoughts when they woke up.
Lucio…
Jalen swallowed, not even sure if he wanted to finish that thought.
Finally, Kullen exhaled. "Well," he said, rising to his feet. "That's a hell of a story."
Jalen watched him carefully. "That all?"
Kullen stretched his arms, his smirk returning—but there was something heavier behind it now. "For now."
Kuromi shot him a sharp glance, but Kullen just shrugged. "Come on, he's exhausted, let him rest. We can decide what to do with him later."
Jalen's eyes narrowed. "What to do with me?"
Kullen turned back toward him, grinning in that same old Kullen way.
"You really think I'm just going to let you walk into my kingdom after that?" He gestured vaguely toward Jalen, as if referring to his entire existence.
"Don't take it personally," Kullen continued, his voice casual. "I just need to make sure you don't accidentally destroy Everlock."
Jalen smirked tiredly. "No promises."
Kullen chuckled. "Didn't think so."
And with that, he turned to leave, Kuromi following close behind, though not before casting one last lingering glance at Jalen.
The door shut behind them, leaving Jalen alone in the dimly lit room.