Omega Ascension System[BL]

Chapter 324: _Own Your Fears

Lucian’s POV

*****

If he had a golden ticket for every time chasing any Amara labelled problem led them into a different dimension, he’d have two golden tickets.

Which... wasn’t a lot but it was surprising it’s happened so many times within a few days.

After he, Kyren and Elian got sucked into different locations, he instantly scanned around himself.

He didn’t fall. There was no impact. Just the sudden awareness of weight, breath, and a familiar ache behind his eyes.

The air smelled like polished marble and incense. Old. Regal.

Lucian straightened instinctively, Alpha instincts flaring—only to freeze.

His hands were smaller.

He lifted them slowly, dread crawling up his spine. The sleeves of his clothes were unfamiliar—dark training leathers, fitted too tightly around the wrists. The Stormborn sigil stitched at the collar was old. Older than the one he usually wore now.

"No," he muttered, voice cracking.

He’s... he’s younger?

The chamber around him solidified as if responding to the word. Tall moonlit windows. Silver banners hanging in perfect symmetry. The throne room.

His chest tightened.

"I told you to stand straight."

The voice cut through the space like a whip.

Lucian flinched before he could stop himself.

Arian Stormborn stood at the foot of the dais, arms folded behind his back, expression carved from stone. Still as imposing as he remembered. His presence filled the room, crushing and absolute.

Lucian—younger Lucian—straightened instantly.

"I am," he said quickly. Too quickly. "I was—"

"Excuses," Arian snapped. "Again."

Lucian’s jaw clenched. The memory hit him all at once. Training sessions that ended in silence. Praise rationed like a rare resource. Love measured in performance.

"I did everything you asked," Lucian said, anger bleeding into his tone despite himself. "I won. I trained harder. I obeyed—"

"And still," Arian interrupted coldly, "you hesitate."

Lucian laughed. A sharp, broken sound.

"Oh, fuck you." The words echoed unnaturally loud.

Arian’s brows twitched. "Watch your tongue."

"No," Lucian growled, stepping forward. His heart pounded—not with fear, but fury. "I’ve watched my tongue my whole life. I swallowed it every time you looked at me like I was... almost enough."

The chamber warped subtly. The banners darkened. Shadows stretched.

Yet Arian’s face didn’t change. That was the worst part.

"You were born to rule," his father said. "Not to feel."

Lucian felt something snap.

"Is that why you hid Garrick?" he spat. "Why you let monsters fester under your throne? Because feelings were inconvenient?"

Silence.

Then Arian stepped closer. Looming like the ghost he was.

"You think you’re different?" he asked quietly. "Power reveals what already exists, Lucian. And one day you’ll understand why I made the choices I did."

The words slithered into Lucian’s chest, coiling tight. A familiar feeling pulsed through his being.

Fear.

Not of becoming king. But of becoming HIM. His father.

Lucian’s hands shook. He looked down at them—at the younger skin, the old scars—and something deep inside him rebelled.

"No," he said hoarsely. "I won’t."

Arian smiled faintly.

The throne behind him creaked, forcing Lucian to turn.

To his shock, he saw himself sitting there.

Older. Crowned. His expression distant and cold.

Arian’s voice echoed from everywhere at once. "This is your future."

Rage exploded through Lucian’s veins.

He threw his head back and roared.

The sound shattered the chamber. Marble cracked. The illusion flickered violently as silver light burst from his chest—raw and uncontrolled.

"I am NOT you!" Lucian bellowed. "And I don’t need your approval to prove it!"

The throne splintered.

The image of his father fractured like glass.

And the world began to tear itself apart.

.

.

When the illusion cleared, he was no longer his little self. Instead, the pocket dimension had shifted, twisting into a white expanse of pure nothingness.

Even the floor beneath his feet felt like it could dissipate at any second.

"Amara!" He roared, Celestial sovereign power carrying his rage. "I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again... I don’t want to play your games. Your madness in Lunarian politics ended with my father’s reign."

His words echoed but there was no response.

Of course, there wasn’t.

Amara probably abandoned the manor after their battle to rescue Aurora. She knew they’d come here to break Elian’s curse. She probably—

—Wait.

"Every possible future," he whispered to himself, chills running down his spine. "She used Aurora to look into every possibility. Every outcome—including this very moment."

That’s why it felt like they were walking into a trap the second they got here. The game has been rigged from the fucking beginning.

"I need to get out of here." Taking a single step back, he gathered Alpha aura energy in his fists. His arms spread out, holding for a couple of seconds...

Then he clapped, sending a cataclysmic shockwave brimming with silver light. Cracks splintered the pocket dimension like broken glass, the whole space trembling.

But it didn’t collapse.

Within seconds, the cracks sealed, the space restoring itself. It somehow felt like Amara’s version of a ’fuck you’.

Lucian didn’t let his rage lead. He took in a breath, pushing his spatial awareness abilities and spreading his consciousness to better understand the dimension’s dynamics.

"Rules," he mumbled, brows furrowing in a frown. "It’s like the dimension of time and destiny. But different. It’s feeding off something. Feeding off me..."

He paused, realising something.

That illusion he experienced a few seconds ago. Showing his adolescent life with his father.

It was his deepest fear. The one he never liked to admit. That’s what the dimension was feeding off.

"So what’s the game then?" He asked more to himself. "You just keep feeding off my fears until I break? Because I’ll bring this place down before—"

’Lucian.’ Elian’s voice suddenly slipped into his mind, making him freeze. ’It’s me. Are you there?’

He’s never felt like answering him more in his life. "Yes! Elian, thank the gods! Are you okay? Where are you?"

’Out of my trial.’ Elian responded. ’And I’m guessing you’re in yours right now. I can’t see you or Kyren out here.’

Trial?

Lucian frowned, recalling how tame the illusion was. It wasn’t just made to psychologically scar him. It was made to test.

"How... how did you get out of it?" Lucian asked, hating how his voice shook. "How do I get out of it?"

’Face your fears, Lucian.’ Elian’s tone was sharp. Confident. ’Whatever they are. And embrace them... Own it.’

Lucian exhaled slowly.

"Right," he muttered. "That’s it? That’s the trick?"

Just then, the white expanse rippled.

He stiffened.

A shadow formed behind him but he didn’t turn. He didn’t need to.

"You embraced the idea," Arian’s voice said softly, far closer than before. "But you still don’t understand it."

Lucian’s blood ran cold.

"You fear becoming me," the voice continued. "But what terrifies you more... is realising how easy it would be."

The Alpha Prince finally spun around—

And saw the throne again.

This time, it was empty.

Waiting. For him.