The chamber buzzed with a strange, oppressive energy, the weight of centuries pressing down on Alastor’s mind. Across from him, Lucius stood calm and collected, his expression one of serene satisfaction, as if this confrontation was nothing more than another step in a carefully orchestrated dance.

  Lucius’s black robes swirled slightly as he took another slow step forward, the flickering glyphs on the walls glowing faintly with the remnants of ancient magic. Time itself seemed to ripple around him, like a subtle reminder that this wasn’t just a man Alastor was facing—it was someone who had shaped the flow of existence for millennia.

  "You still don’t understand, do you?" Lucius asked, his voice soft but heavy with meaning. "This was never about breaking the loop or destroying the Pyramid. This was about you. About turning you into the man who could stand here today, holding the Eye of Ra, ready to take my place."

  Alastor’s grip on the glowing relic tightened, fury building in his chest. "You think I fought my way through every death, every betrayal, just to become you?"

  Lucius smiled knowingly, like a parent indulging a stubborn child. "Every moment, every choice you’ve made—it was all part of the design. The Council was never your enemy, Alastor. They were your teachers. Each trial you endured wasn’t to break you, but to mold you."

  Alastor took a step forward, the Eye of Ra pulsing with unstable energy, his expression dark. "I didn’t come this far to be part of your game, Lucius."

  Lucius chuckled, low and amused. "You’ve been part of the game since the beginning. Every death. Every reset. Every life you’ve touched and lost. It was all necessary—to shape you, to test you, to see if you were worthy." He spread his arms, as if presenting Alastor with the culmination of everything he had suffered. "And you are worthy."

  Alastor felt the words twist in his mind, every loop flashing before his eyes—the betrayals, the losses, the victories that had slipped through his fingers. The pieces began to fit together in horrifying clarity. Lucius had been pulling the strings from the start. **Every trial, every death, every ally and enemy—**it had all been part of Lucius’s design, guiding him toward this moment.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  "All those times I thought I was making choices…" Alastor whispered, more to himself than to Lucius. "You were the one making them for me."

  Lucius inclined his head slightly. "A game isn’t worth playing if the pieces don’t believe they can move themselves."

  Alastor’s fists clenched, his pulse pounding in his ears. "I’m not your pawn."

  "Pawn? No, no, Alastor." Lucius stepped closer, his dark eyes gleaming with something unsettling—a strange kind of admiration, perhaps even affection. "You are not the pawn. You are the prize. The one player who managed to outlast every trial, every death. The one who rose above the Council, who mastered the loop, who held onto his ambition even in the face of endless failure." He smiled faintly. "You became everything I needed you to be."

  The realization hit Alastor like a punch to the gut. This had never been a fight to escape the loop—it had been a grooming process. Lucius hadn’t been trying to defeat him. He had been trying to create him.

  "You twisted every moment," Alastor growled, rage bubbling to the surface. "Every ally I lost, every death I suffered—you made that happen."

  "Yes," Lucius admitted without hesitation. "Because you needed to understand what it takes. A god must stand above all things—love, pain, fear." He took another step closer, the edges of his figure flickering, as if time bent to accommodate his presence. "You needed to learn that everything is expendable, including yourself."

  Alastor shook his head slowly, disbelief warring with fury. "You think you’re making me into something greater? You’re nothing but a tyrant clinging to a broken system."

  Lucius’s eyes darkened, though the smile on his face remained. "The loop is not broken, Alastor. The loop is perfect. It ensures that only the strongest rise—and you are the strongest. But strength means nothing unless it is used. That’s why you need to take my place. This is what you were born for."

  Alastor’s heart hammered in his chest, every fiber of his being rejecting the path Lucius laid before him. This was not why he had fought. This was not the life he wanted—to become just another cog in the endless machine, a prisoner of the very system he had vowed to destroy.

  He refused to be shaped into another Lucius Cipher.

  "You created the game," Alastor said through gritted teeth, "but I won’t play it. I came here to end the loop, not to replace you." The Eye of Ra glowed brighter in his hand, its unstable energy crackling like fire between his fingers.

  Lucius’s smile didn’t falter. If anything, it deepened into something almost pitying, as if he were indulging a child who refused to see the bigger picture. "You think you’re free, Alastor? You think breaking the loop will save you?" He shook his head slowly. "You were never the player."

  Lucius stepped closer, until their faces were inches apart, his voice dropping to a whisper.

  "You were always the game."