Crownless Reincarnation: New World? Nah I'd win-Chapter 84: Side story: Velyrian [1]

[Velyrian’s office.]

The beer bottle clinked softly against the wooden desk as Velyrian leaned back in his wheelchair.

The office was dim, the only light coming from the soft pulse of the Ven core mounted on the wall across from him.

Its glow flickered gently, like a heartbeat that refused to die.

He stared at it for a long while, unmoving, his eyes distant.

"Still ticking, huh?" he muttered.

His gaze drifted down to the letter lying unopened beside the bottle.

It had been sitting there for hours, maybe longer.

The seal was familiar—his master’s.

He reached for it slowly, hesitating for just a moment before opening the letter once again.

The paper was old, the handwriting rough but steady.

’’Velyrian,

If this letter finds you, I hope you are well.

I’ve heard whispers of what happened.

Your legs.

The war.

The core.’’

Velyrian’s grip tightened, but he kept reading.

’’You were always the stubborn one.

Always chasing ghosts, pushing boundaries even when I warned you not to.

The Ven core cost you too much already. Let it go.’’

His eyes welled up as he read the next line.

’’I don’t have much time left. The healers say a few years, at best.

I want you to come home. Not for closure. Just... for the sake of being my son again, not my soldier.’’

A tear slid down his cheek.

’’I taught you to fight, but I never taught you to stop.

That’s on me. But you still have a chance to live—not survive, live. I hope you’ll take it.

I am not angry with you, my son... I just want you back.

—Master Ryndel’’

Velyrian placed the letter down carefully, like it might break if he moved too fast.

He reached into the drawer and pulled out a small photo frame.

The glass was cracked in one corner.

Inside was a picture of a girl with a wide smile, holding a paper star she must’ve folded herself.

"My little star," he whispered, wiping at his face.

He stared at it for what felt like hours. He didn’t speak.

Didn’t move.

Just sat there, the letter still open beside him, the Ven core pulsing like a scar that refused to fade.

"If you hadn’t broken ties with us, then you would have liked her," he said eventually, glancing at the core.

"She’s smarter than me. Kinder too. Didn’t get that from me, obviously."

He let out a shaky breath and leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk.

"She asked me once why I never smile in pictures. I told her I didn’t know how." He chuckled bitterly. "She said she’d teach me."

His hand drifted toward the Ven core again, like he would touch it by sitting on his chair.

"I kept you running. Even after what you took from me."

His eyes narrowed. "I gave you my legs. My years. My sanity. And for what?"

There was no answer, only the steady glow.

"She must have forgotten how I even looked."

That hit harder than he expected. His voice caught, and he looked away.

"I can’t keep carrying this thing, Ryndel," he said to the empty room.

"I want to. God knows I want to. But I think... I think you’re right."

He stared down at the letter again, then at the photo.

"I think I’ve been dying slower than you."

He picked up the photo frame and held it close.

"I’ll come home," he said quietly. "But not for you."

His eyes went back to the picture.

"For her."

...She was the one who made him do all this.

To research all the things that he did was for her.

...A way to find the cure of her curse.

Yet—.

Velyrian became so obsessed with Ven core that he forgot the real reason he started it.

He drew in a deep breath as he looked at the broken Dyson sphere around it.

’Asher was right,’ he thought to himself. ’There are thousands of ways it could go wrong.’

He let out a sigh as he thought about the young man.

Velyrian sees the boy equal to his own.

He was smart and actually could solve things that he took years to understand.

’Master would have liked him too.’

He thought with a light chuckle.

’I bet he would have been his favourite pupil.’

Velyrian looked at the core once again.

"I will get rid of you tomorrow," he said with a heavy heart. "It’s time for me to let go."

He smiled at the nonsense thought as he began to drag his wheelchair towards the exit.

Fwoooom!!

A soft humming voice echoed within the room, making Velyrian stop in his tracks.

He slowly looked back at the Ven core that glowed ominously within the room.

The Dyson sphere began to flicker to life.

’...No way.’

At that time, something clicked in his mind.

A warning that Asher gave him long ago.

’That damn thing has its own mind!’

The Dyson sphere began to spin at an abnormal speed.

Fwoooom!!

"No, no, no!"

Panic began to settle under his skin as he quickly moved towards the plug of the sphere.

"No! Fuck!" Velyrian shouted, pushing the wheelchair forward as fast as it would go.

The metal wheels groaned against the floor, but he didn’t stop.

Not even when he saw the cables sparking in the corner of his eye.

He reached the wall panel and yanked open the emergency switch.

His heart sank.

The plugs were cleanly cut, not ripped or frayed; they were sliced.

The Ven core kept spinning, faster than before.

The sound was no longer a hum.

It was a low roar, vibrating through the walls, through the floor, through his bones.

"This wasn’t supposed to happen," he muttered, trying to reach for another wire. "You weren’t supposed to wake up."

He tried the manual override next, slamming his palm against the touchscreen, but the screen blinked red and then went dark.

The Dyson sphere began rotating so fast it blurred, the shell shimmering like it was phasing through itself.

A sharp gust of wind pulled at his collar.

Velyrian froze.

A faint tear in the air was forming in front of the core—small at first, like a crack in glass.

Then it widened, stretching out in a long, vertical split.

The edges rippled unnaturally, like heat waves over sand.

"Oh no... oh no no no..."

He backed away, panic burning in his chest.

"You’re tearing space," he whispered. "This isn’t energy compression anymore—this is breach-level distortion!"

The rift pulsed again, and a strange force pulled the air toward it.

Loose papers and tools on the desk lifted into the air and flew into the widening slit.

The frame with his daughter’s photo was among the first.

"Wait—!" he reached for it, but it was gone.

"Goddammit!"

His chair began sliding now... slowly at first, then faster.

"No!" he shouted, digging his fingers into the edge of the doorframe.

The force pulling at him grew stronger.

His muscles strained, arms trembling, but the grip wasn’t enough.

"Someone... anyone!" he yelled, his voice drowned by the vortex behind him.

"Milo! Asher!!"

The room groaned as the rift widened into a swirling black void, its edges flickering like static.

Velyrian’s hands slipped.

The force yanked him back hard, wheels spinning uselessly beneath him.

"NO!"

His body twisted, the chair flipping as it slammed into the desk, then lifted.

He grabbed onto the leg of the table, but the pull was relentless.

"Damn you, Asher," he growled through clenched teeth. "You were right—this thing thinks!!!"

He tried to grab a loose cable nearby, but it snapped as soon as he touched it.

His wheelchair broke apart behind him, fragments vanishing into the void.

The rift was no longer a crack.

It had collapsed into a full black hole now, silent and pulsing, drawing in everything like breath being held before a scream.

His arms gave out.

He screamed as he was lifted from the ground, arms hanging limp on him.

He reached, clawed at the air, but there was nothing to hold onto.

The last thing he saw was the Ven core...still glowing faintly, almost gently as if watching him.

Then everything turned black.

The room went still.

Papers, tools, even dust had vanished.

Only the faint hum of the Ven core remained, pulsing in the empty room with soft, steady light.

...Waiting for him.

The boy with wheat-blonde hair and blood-red eyes.