"Listen carefully, Aldrich," Solomon's voice echoed in his mind. "What I'm about to tell you changes everything."
Aldrich's thoughts raced. I'm listening.
"Do not fight my presence," Solomon continued. "We need to coexist. You're not strong enough to access all the power of the Bookkeeper yet. And if Augustus suspects anything, we're both dead. Again."
Wait. Just tell me what happened. How did you end up in the Bookkeeper Library?
Solomon's voice grew quieter. More distant. Like he was pulling Aldrich deeper into memory. "I'll show you."
And then everything shifted.
The dining hall faded. The candlelight dimmed. Augustus's voice became muffled. Distant. Like hearing someone speak underwater.
Aldrich's vision blurred. And then cleared.
He was somewhere else.
[Flashback - Seven Years Ago]
The throne room was burning.
Not literally. But it felt like it. The tension in the air was suffocating. Hot. Heavy. Like standing too close to a forge.
Two figures stood in the center of the massive hall. Both young. Both bloodied. Both holding swords.
Prince Solomon Aurelius. Age twenty-three. Tall. Strong. His dark hair was matted with sweat and blood. His royal armor was cracked in several places. His breathing was heavy. But his eyes were clear. Focused.
Across from him stood Prince Augustus Aurelius. Age twenty-one. Leaner. Faster. His red hair was wild. His face was twisted with rage and desperation. His armor was in worse condition. Blood dripped from a wound on his shoulder.
They had been fighting for hours.
Around them, the throne room was destroyed. Pillars cracked. Walls scarred with sword strikes. The floor was littered with debris. And blood. So much blood.
King Aldus Aurelius sat on his throne. Old. Gray haired. His face was pale. Tired. He watched his sons fight with empty eyes. He had tried to stop this. But he had failed.
"Please," the king whispered. His voice was weak. Broken. "Stop this. Both of you."
But neither son was listening.
Augustus lunged forward. His sword cut through the air. Fast. Desperate.
Solomon blocked. The clash of steel echoed. He pushed Augustus back. Then he countered. A strike aimed at Augustus's chest.
But Solomon hesitated. Just for a fraction of a second. His blade stopped inches from his brother's heart.
Augustus saw the hesitation. His eyes widened. And then he struck.
His sword pierced Solomon's side. Not deep. Not fatal. But enough.
Solomon gasped. He stumbled backward. His sword fell from his hand. It clattered against the stone floor.
Augustus stood there. Breathing hard. His sword was still extended. Blood dripped from the tip.
For a moment, neither brother moved.
Then Solomon smiled. It was a sad smile. Tired. Resigned.
"You win, brother," Solomon said quietly. His hand pressed against the wound on his side. Blood seeped between his fingers. "The throne is yours."
Augustus's face twisted. Confusion. Anger. Guilt. "What? No. You you let me win. You could have killed me. I saw it. You hesitated."
Solomon shook his head slowly. "I couldn't."
"Why?!" Augustus screamed. His voice echoed through the hall. "Why couldn't you just kill me?! I would have killed you! I was trying to kill you!"
Solomon's smile faded. He looked at his younger brother. Really looked at him. And he spoke softly. "Because you're my brother. And I love you more than I love that throne."
Augustus froze. His sword trembled in his hand.
King Aldus stood from his throne. Relief flooded his face. "It's over. Solomon has conceded. Augustus, lower your weapon. We can"
But Augustus wasn't lowering his weapon. His face had changed. The guilt was gone. Replaced with something darker. Something cold.
"No," Augustus said quietly. "It's not over."
He looked at Solomon. "If you live, there will always be people who say you should be king. That I'm illegitimate. That I stole the throne from the rightful heir."
Solomon's eyes widened. "Brother, no"
"I'm sorry," Augustus whispered. And he meant it. In that moment, he genuinely meant it.
But he still moved.
Augustus grabbed a vial from his belt. Small. Glass. Filled with dark liquid. Poison.
He threw it. The vial shattered against Solomon's chest. The liquid splashed across his armor. Across his skin. Into the wound on his side.
Solomon gasped. He fell to his knees. The poison was fast. Aggressive. Designed to kill quickly.
"AUGUSTUS!" King Aldus roared. He rushed down from his throne. But he was old and Slow.
Augustus moved faster. He kicked Solomon. Hard. Solomon fell backward. His head struck the stone floor.
And then Augustus was on him. His sword raised. Ready for the final blow.
But Solomon was already dying. The poison was spreading. His vision was darkening. His body was failing.He stabbed him killing him off. But In those final moments, Solomon did something Augustus didn't see. Couldn't see.
He reached into his essence. Into the deepest part of his soul. And he activated the Bookkeeper Library. The library he had acquired years ago. The library no one else knew about.
He spoke in his mind. To the library itself. To the system.I invoke the Final Archive. The Sealing Protocol. Preserve my consciousness. Store my memories. My personality. My will. Everything I am. And wait for a vessel. Wait for someone worthy. Someone who needs what I know. What I can teach.
I don't want to die. Not truly. I'll return. Somehow. Someday.
And when I do, brother, we'll see who truly deserves the throne.
The system responded.
[System Alert: Final Archive Activated]
[Sealing Consciousness…]
[Preservation: Complete]
[Awaiting Vessel…]
And then Solomon died. His eyes closed. His breathing stopped. His body went limp.
Augustus stood over him. His sword dripping with blood. His face was pale. Empty.
King Aldus reached them. He fell to his knees beside Solomon's body. "No. No, no, no."
He looked up at Augustus. His face was filled with horror. With betrayal. "What have you done?"
Augustus said nothing. He just stared down at his brother's corpse.
And in that moment, Augustus knew what he had to do. There could be no witnesses. No one who would challenge his claim to the throne.
He raised his sword again. But this time, he aimed at his father.
King Aldus looked up. He saw the blade coming. But he didn't move. Didn't try to stop it. He just closed his eyes.
The last thing he thought was: I failed them both.
[Present - The Dining Hall]
The memory faded. The throne room dissolved. And Aldrich was back in the dining hall.
He gasped. His hand gripped the edge of the table. The wood creaked under his fingers.
You… you let him win?
"Yes," Solomon's voice confirmed. "I couldn't kill him. I thought if I conceded, he would be satisfied. That we could both live. That Father could mediate. That we could find peace."
But he killed you anyway.
"Yes."
And then he killed your father.
"Yes."
And you knew he would?
Solomon was silent for a moment. Then he spoke quietly. "I suspected. But I hoped I was wrong. I hoped there was still good in him. I hoped love would be enough."
It wasn't.
"No. It wasn't."
Aldrich's mind was reeling. The weight of it. The tragedy of it. Solomon had died because he loved his brother too much. Because he chose mercy over survival.
And now you're stuck inside me. Inside the Bookkeeper Library you used to seal yourself.
"Yes. When you died on Earth, when that truck hit you, the system searched for a compatible vessel. Someone who needed a second chance. Someone the library could bond with. It found you. And when you were transported here, you were placed in my body. My old body. Which had been preserved by the royal family."
They kept your corpse?
"Royal tradition. All members of the Aurelius bloodline are preserved.
Aldrich took a shaky breath. This was insane. All of it.
So what now? Augustus is right there. He killed you. He killed your father. And he's laughing about it.
Solomon's voice grew colder. "Now? Now we survive. We learn. We grow stronger. And when the time is right, we take back what's ours."
Revenge?
"Justice."
What's the difference?
"Revenge is emotional. Justice is deserved."
Aldrich looked up. Across the long table, Augustus was still standing there. Still smiling. Still waiting for a response.
The entire flashback had happened in seconds. A download of memory and emotion. Augustus hadn't noticed anything.
"Solomon?" Augustus called out. He tilted his head. "What seems to be distracting you? Didn't you hear me? I asked if you'd say how impressive I am."
Aldrich blinked. He refocused. His face returned to that calm, cold expression. Solomon's expression.
He stood up slowly. His chair scraped against the floor. The sound echoed through the hall.
"Impressive?" Aldrich repeated. His voice was quiet. . "Is that what you call murder, Augustus? Impressive?"
He started walking. Not toward Augustus. But toward the door. Toward the exit.
"I no longer find interest in the throne," Aldrich said. His voice carried no emotion. No warmth. Just cold indifference. "I have better things to do than listen to you brag about fratricide and patricide."
He reached the door. His hand touched the handle.
"I'm going to see my wives."
He pulled the door open and stepped through.
Behind him, Augustus stood frozen. His smile had completely disappeared. His eyes were wide. Suspicious. Calculating.
He spoke quietly. To himself. "My wives?"
Augustus's hand slowly moved to the hilt of his silver sword. His fingers wrapped around it. "Solomon never called them 'my wives.' He always used their names. Always."
His eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"
But Aldrich was already gone. The door closed behind him with a heavy thud.
Augustus stood alone in the dining hall. Surrounded by uneaten food. Surrounded by silence.
He pulled his sword slightly from its sheath. Just an inch. The blade gleamed in the candlelight.
"Interesting," he muttered. "Very interesting."
He smiled. But this smile was different. It was the smile of a predator who had just found new prey.
"Let's see how far you can play this game, little brother. Or whoever you are."