Chronicles of Forgotten Extra

Nyx looked at her friend—one of the first people who treated her as more than a tool.

Alden Draven.

At first, she had misjudged him.

A playboy.

A careless man who toyed with women.

But the truth unraveled slowly: he was nothing like that.

He was broken too—fractured inside like her—yet he carried himself with a brightness she couldn't understand.

She hadn't wanted to trust anyone.

And yet, time betrayed her resolve.

His warmth pulled her closer until the cold walls she made around her began to crack.

Sometimes it felt like even the world conspired to push her closer to him…

… as if fate itself demanded it.

And she knew what fate was: twisted, merciless.

It would make her trust… only to shatter her again.

Expectations always led to disappointment. She had repeated that to herself for years.

And still—foolishly—she had begun to expect.

Something she was never allowed.

Everything had been normal.

Until the lift.

Until she saw him today.

She didn't know why…

But when she saw Alden earlier, the Fragment of Ananke's Thread—the same artifact that made her crossing into this world possible,

…had stirred.

Not visibly or violently. Just a whisper of movement.

As if it saw something in him.

She hadn't noticed it then.

She'd been too tangled in the storm of her feelings—the raw ache of conflict between the warmth she felt for her friends and the cold clarity of her mission.

But the Thread had reacted.

It had never done that before.

Not once.

Not even when he had been beside her.

Not when he laughed with her.

Not even when he nearly died.

So why now?

What had changed?

And what, in all the cruel designs of fate, did that change mean?

She didn't know.

But her father had said the fragment would react only to HIM…

The one destined to destroy the world.

The one who carried the seed of chaos.

The inheritor of mythic bloodline.

She had been sent with a single purpose: to find that being and return him to her clan.

To her father.

But her father had no desire to save the world.

He never did.

He only wanted the Seed Of Chaos and the Bloodline the boy carried.

Her head hung low.

She couldn't bring herself to look at Alden, who stared at her with quiet concern.

Why are you so stupid?

Why did you make me trust you?

Why do you have to be HIM?

Why do you have to look at me like that, like I'm worth saving?

…and why does it hurt so much?

The pain twisted deeper than any wound she had ever known.

Her eyes blurred.

She couldn't hold the tears back anymore. Because she knew, if her father ever found out about Alden…

He would kill him to extract.

Or worse.

He would tear him apart, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but the power he wanted.

Until Alden was no longer a person… just another broken experiment.

Just another weapon.

She didn't want that.

But she didn't know what to do.

How could she?

Her father wasn't just a man.

He was a Count of the Stellar Expanse.

The one who held nearly as much power as Dukes.

Ruler of RavenStar.

Defying him wasn't just dangerous.

It was suicide.

And nobody could hide away from him.

Not forever.

The thought clawed at her, pulling her deeper, into fear, into helplessness, into that old and familiar darkness.

But before she could spiral further…

A hand touched her shoulder gently.

Radiating warmth.

"It's alright," he said, his voice soft. "Everything's going to be okay."

Slowly, she raised her head and saw him standing there.

His silhouette was framed by soft light, shoulders broader than she remembered.

But it was his eyes that stopped her breath.

For the first time… they didn't look guarded.

They looked soft.

It was as if he understood everything what she carried,

what she was about to do,

what she could never say.

As if he knew she was going to betray him.

And yet…

he smiled.

Not with accusation.

Not with fear.

But with something worse.

Kindness.

And that kindness hurt more than anything.

More than her fear.

More than the weight of betrayal.

Because he wasn't supposed to be kind.

Not now.

Not to her.

Tears rolled down her cheeks, hot and chaotic,

tracing the shape of her guilt in messy lines.

She clenched her fists, trembling.

"Why are you so kind, dummy?"

Her voice cracked, too soft to be angry and too broken to hide.

Alden didn't reply. He just smiled.

That same quiet and maddeningly gentle smile.

She looked up at him from the couch with her eyes blurred with tears and chest aching.

And then, without a word, she leaned forward, wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek against him.

He was warm.

Too warm.

His hand rose and he patted her back gently as if reassuring her that he was here.

For the first time in a long while… she let herself be still.

Let herself cry her heart out.

In his presence.

In his kindness.

Even if just for a moment.

—

Somewhere on RavenStar, far from the world of Eryndor—

A man ran desperately as if his life depended on every step.

He sprinted through corridor after corridor, breath ragged and heart pounding.

Until finally, he reached it.

The Grand Hall.

On either side, smaller thrones stretched in long, unbroken rows… each one occupied by a figure cloaked in status and silence.

And at the very end…

A throne larger than the rest, carved in obsidian sat.

The seat of the Count.

The ruler of RavenStar.

The one who held two galaxies in his grasp.

Every single person in the throne room stared at the servant who had dared to interrupt them.

But no one said a word, waiting for their ruler to judge.

The man dropped to his knees, forehead nearly touching the cold floor.

"I greet the Ruler," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "We have received a signal…"

"From the Fragment of Ananke's Thread, the one carried by Young Miss Nyx before she departed for Eryndor."

A tremor passed through the chamber.

Still, no one spoke.

But every gaze shifted… toward the throne.

Toward their ruler.

Awaiting his command.