I didn't sleep that night.
The dim glow of my screen flickered over the dark walls of my apartment as I scrolled endlessly through the Astral Community. Threads. Rumors. Deleted posts. Dead links. Whispers.
All of them orbiting a single username.
CrownThorns.
The so-called PK King.
I remembered the name. The dread. The screams. The blood.
He was one of the few who thrived in the lawless chaos of the early labyrinth floors. Not because he was strong—but because he was a monster in a place without rules. Where no eyes watched. Where no footage remained. Where killing another Challenger came without consequence.
The posts didn't say much. The Astral Community barely acknowledged him now. But I knew that was going to change.
Because it had already happened. In the timeline I left behind.
"CrownThorns doesn't want loot. Doesn't want EXP. He just wants to see the light leave your eyes."
That post stuck with me.
And I couldn't stop thinking about it.
