You Already Won

Jonathan was in hell.

No, not literal hell—but the kind where reality fractured and stitched itself together inside your mind. His limbs twitched. His breath caught. His body knelt on the rocky cave floor, steaming in corrupted blood, but his soul? His soul was elsewhere.

Temporal Echo had awakened.

Dominion Seed had bloomed.

The moment his blood mixed with corrupted Ryun and touched the dead earth of this forgotten cavern, something triggered—a symphony of power and memory unfurling like divine madness.

He was falling.

Through time. Through fate. Through Jafar.

"Tell her I forgave her. She doesn't need to carry it anymore."

—A tired voice, warm but breaking. The sound of wind through a desert, blood drying in the sand.

"This realm dies tomorrow. I gave them time to amend."

—Cold, unflinching. Absolute. Steel-sharp words.

"They still think love makes me weaker. Let them think it. I only need one reason to win."

—Soft, low, and so agonizingly human it made Jonathan's chest ache.

"You were never a monster. You simply made hard choices."

—A mother's voice? A sister's? A friend? He didn't know—but the weight of forgiveness behind it crushed his ribs.

"Even gods envy freedom."

—Spoken like a sigh. The backdrop: a battlefield of stars folding inward.

"We don't become kings. We get chosen when no one else survives."

—Echoed in a throne room bathed in ash. The voice wasn't angry. It was tired.

"Please… please don't forget who you were."

—A whisper before a scream. A hand reaching through darkness. A memory drowning.

"I'd do it again. All of it. I never cared if the realms hated me. I just wanted to make sure she was safe."

—Final. Like a confession before judgment.

Jonathan screamed—internally, eternally—as the visions stabbed through him like lightning bolts of memory and regret. He saw ruins he'd never visited. Battles he'd never fought. A crown that had never touched his brow but somehow belonged to him.

He felt loss that tore him from the inside.

Love that made his chest bloom like spring.

Triumph that shook the heavens.

And the pain of abandonment so pure it made death seem peaceful.

It was too much.

The longer it fed—the more his blood soaked the stone and echoed across the cave walls—the more he felt it: not just seeing Jafar…

Becoming him.

Losing Jonathan North.

No. No no no—!

And then—

A jolt.

A snap.

Jonathan gasped, falling forward, chest heaving.

The cave was still around him. His body burned with Ryun, but it was his again.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been gone.

He blinked, his vision refocusing just in time to catch the glowing outline of Sšurtinaui lowering her Ryun bow. The emerald energy dispersed into the air like mist, and Jonathan immediately narrowed his eyes.

"Did you shoot me with a goddamn arrow again?"

Caroline, crouched beside him with both hands gripping a hefty boulder, casually set it down with a guilty shrug.

"Were you about to bash my head in?!"

"You were twitching and glowing and—whatever the hell that was, I wasn't taking chances. You looked like a final boss in a fever dream." She crossed her arms. "And I like my face where it is."

Jonathan groaned. "You guys couldn't—I dunno—try talking to me first?"

"We did," Sšurtinaui replied calmly. "You didn't answer. You were mumbling in some odd dialect, bleeding from your eyes, and leaking corrupted aura."

Caroline added, "We poked you, yelled at you, even slapped you."

Jonathan blinked. "Who slapped me?"

They both raised their hands.

"…Seriously?"

Sšurtinaui shrugged. "Softly."

Caroline grinned. "Not softly."

Jonathan sighed and rubbed his forehead. "So your great solution after nothing worked was a arrow and a fucking rock?"

Sšurtinaui nodded matter-of-factly. "Non-lethal arrow. Energy dispersion."

Caroline patted the boulder. "And this was plan B. In case you turned into a zombie."

He leaned back and stared at the ceiling of the cavern. "Geez. Thanks, guys."

They looked at each other, then at him. "You're welcome," they said in unison.

His head throbbed like something was trying to claw its way out from behind his eyes. Damn those memories. They had hit him harder than expected—Jafar's past unraveling through his veins like a cursed documentary on loop. The visions had infected more than his body. They had scraped at his sense of self. For a second—maybe longer—he wasn't Jonathan North.

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But he checked himself now. Looked inward, mentally combing through his thoughts, his memories. He was still him. He felt like Jonathan. But the idea that even for a flicker he didn't terrified him. No more blood. Not for now. Healing, maybe. But beyond that, he'd stick to Ryun exclusively. Until he figured out what the hell the blood actually was.

He glanced at Caroline and Sšurtinaui, both of whom were still watching him carefully—like someone recovering from possession. Which… wasn't entirely wrong.

He cleared his throat and threw up a grin. "So… anyone else feel like that was a fun team-building exercise?"

Caroline rolled her eyes, but the smirk cracked through. "Only if the next one doesn't involve demonic screaming and blood vomiting."

Sšurtinaui arched a brow. "You done being terrifying?"

"I swear," he said with a raised hand. "Still me. I'm not going full god-mode psycho. And I'd never hurt either of you. Thanks… seriously—for not abandoning me or, you know, caving my head in completely."

Sšurtinaui chuckled. "Well, you did say we'd need a life-or-death experience before we could trust each other."

Jonathan snorted. "Guess you were right to dump the emotional baggage first. Death isn't so unlikely around here."

"No," she said softly, "it's not."

He turned to Caroline, "So… was your little side quest worth all this?" He asked, trying to change the conversation.

Caroline noticed and perked up, flicking her tab open before quickly swiping it shut again. "Oh, it absolutely was. I have to combine the ashes with Moon-Glass Shards and Vervain Spores to make something called Ember Tincture. Then I deliver it to the Whispering Tree for judgment."

He stared. "That sounds unnecessarily ominous."

"Maybe. But if I pull it off, I unlock Alchemy and progress my Fortune Holder Path. Plus, this stuff is gonna be great for crafting." She leaned back and cracked her neck. "Not opening my mission log again till the 8th though. I want everything to update after the rule shift."

Jonathan let out a low whistle. "Smart. Delayed tab opening for optimal benefit. That's definitely gamer-brain right there."

"Damn right," she said, flexing her fingers.

"So your system won't update if it is open while the world changes?"

"Not a hundred percent sure but I'm not taking any chances. Besides, this method kept me alive until now."

He chuckled, more relaxed now. The cave was still wrecked, they were still bleeding, and the world was still out to kill them—but they had won.

They made camp right there, the air still charged with residual tension and drying blood. A makeshift fire crackled low as the three of them sat close together, nestled near the remnants of their chaotic battle. Sšurtinaui leaned back against a piece of slanted rock and exhaled, finally letting her body rest.

"The gem's not far," she said. "Temple entrance is half-collapsed, but still intact. Problem is, there's a guardian. Ranker-level. Big, aggressive, armored—and not dumb. And another contestant's already there too. A Rituain. Human-looking, but uses elementals and summons like breathing. They've been at a standoff for a while it seems."

Jonathan sat quietly while she talked, legs outstretched, swollen arm resting on his knee. Caroline leaned in, curious. "You didn't intervene?"

Sšurtinaui shook her head, "I wouldn't have even gotten close enough to. With the guardian and Rituain battle being so fierce. I figured I'd regroup with you both, then reassess. It's close. If we ran now, we could probably make it in under an hour."

Caroline groaned. "Yeah, no. I am not running anywhere until my health bar isn't screaming at me."

"I didn't say we should," Sšurtinaui said dryly. "I said could. Right now, rest is everything."

"I just want a spa," Caroline mumbled, rolling over and fluffing her sleeping bag. "Or a healing pond. Or an immortal deer to lick my wounds."

"A cleansing geyser of Ryun," Sšurtinaui added wistfully. "One with adjustable temperature and an aura soak setting."

"Sounds lovely," Caroline sighed. "Can you imagine? A full soak, snacks, and no one trying to gut you."

"Sounds like fiction," Jonathan muttered.

The two girls chuckled, trading spa dreams and predictions about what the 8th day rule would bring. A care package system? Instant faction merges? A sudden boss drop? The possibilities made their heads spin.

Jonathan was quiet, smiling faintly at their banter, but his mind had wandered miles away.

His blood.

He could feel it thrumming inside him, not dormant, not entirely calm. His thoughts looped in quiet paranoia. It only activates outside my body. Or more accurately, when it's separated from my core self. That's what it felt like—something ritualistic. Not alive, not sentient, but bound to some divine logic that he didn't understand. Maybe it wasn't Jafar intervening. Maybe this was just how the blood worked. A sort of metaphysical contract that didn't care if he was ready for it or not.

Cool for healing. Not so cool if it meant seizures and visions every time he bled too hard.

He blinked when something hit him in the chest—a snack bar, semi-wrapped.

Caroline arched a brow. "You looked like you were arguing with a quantum physics professor in your head."

He cracked a grin. "Was losing, too."

"What's wrong?" Sšurtinaui asked, brushing her hair back, the green glow of her Ryun flickering along her fingertips.

He thought for a moment about waving it off. About staying closed off.

Then he sighed. "Stupid to keep this to myself. It's my blood. I get visions, seizures… as you saw. They're from Jafar's memories. I think… whenever it leaves my body or hits a threshold, it taps into some deep-rooted connection to him. Maybe all this Jujisn stuff. It's like… his whole life is recorded in it. Also… thanks for not bombarding me with questions right away."

Both girls looked at him seriously now. No teasing. No sarcasm.

"So the more you bleed…" Caroline began.

"The more I risk becoming someone I'm not," he said flatly. "And even if I don't, I see things. Things I wasn't meant to. It's not just memories—it's prophecies. Past, future, and some of it is so intense I can't tell if I'm still me."

Sšurtinaui's face hardened in thought. "That's not just dangerous. It's sacred. Or cursed. Possibly both."

Caroline looked down, frowning. "So you're holding back a nuclear archive."

"Feels like it." He looked up at them both. "That's why I'm serious now. About Ryun. I need to control what I can control. I can't rely on blood-freakouts. I need precision, flow, discipline. And to stop bleeding all the damn time."

Sšurtinaui nodded. "We'll start tomorrow. Before the 8th rule hits. But after we inspect the guardian situation."

"I'll help too," Caroline added. "Might not be an elf, but gamer instincts are good for something."

Jonathan smirked. "Appreciate it."

"You're not allowed to die before you beat your god-clone dad anyway," Caroline said, flopping back onto her bedroll.

Sšurtinaui yawned. "Or before the spa."

They all laughed, and for a moment, Jonathan felt lighter. The blood, the fear, the confusion—they were still there. But he wasn't facing them alone.

Jonathan had passed out face-first onto Caroline's makeshift sleep bag, arms and legs sprawled in opposite directions like he had fallen from a great height and decided the floor was good enough. Caroline chuckled softly. "And there goes our noble god-king," she muttered. "Knocked out, mouth slightly open, probably dreaming about food."

Sšurtinaui sat beside her, her green Ryun flickering faintly in the dim cave light. They both stared up at the ceiling above them, streaked with mineral veins and faintly glowing spores.

"Sorry I wasn't able to make the usual camp setup," Caroline said quietly, rubbing her arm. "Everything's low—stamina, magic bar, supplies. I should've planned better. Got too comfortable."

Sšurtinaui gave a small shrug. "You got cocky, sure. But it happens. Especially when things go too well for a while. You just gotta learn from it. Don't let your next mistake be the same one."

Caroline nodded. "Still, it's weird not having the team. Tyzel would've sensed that caster before we even walked in. Bourage would've overreacted and leveled the whole cave."

"Senten would've complained about the lighting."

Caroline laughed. "And still would've had perfect aim in the dark."

Sšurtinaui smiled faintly. "We were a good squad."

"Yeah," Caroline murmured. "We really were."

They let the silence settle for a bit before Caroline glanced at the snoring mess of a man on the sleep bag. "What about him?"

Sšurtinaui tilted her head. "What about him?"

Caroline looked back up at the ceiling. "He's powerful. Or at least, he will be. But he's just… a guy. Like, a real guy. Confused, dramatic, can't even hold his posture after a fight. Nothing about him screams royalty."

"He's reckless," Sšurtinaui said, "and stubborn."

"But," Caroline added, "he fights for us. He listens. And he's adapting faster than anyone I've ever seen. I don't mind helping him—so long as he stays honest."

Sšurtinaui nodded slowly. "He's too dangerous not to be honest."

They both looked over at Jonathan. He was now curled in an awkward half-ball, one leg hanging over the side, a hand clutching a half-eaten snack bar.

Caroline snorted. "It's hard to believe this idiot became a King."

Sšurtinaui chuckled. "A future King. He's not there yet. Which means…"

"…We get to mold him," Caroline finished with a grin. "Once we teach him proper Ryun control, it's game over."

Sšurtinaui let out a long sigh. "I've gambled this far and survived. This? This is just another gamble."

The two of them sat in quiet thought, the warmth of the low fire crackling beside them, as the sleeping fool mumbled something incoherent and turned over—smacking himself in the face with his own arm.

They chuckled.

Another gamble. One they were oddly okay with taking.