The chamber at the heart of the Assassination Pyramid was nothing like Alastor had imagined. There were no gilded thrones or ancient relics proudly displayed—just shadows, deep and endless, swallowing everything in their reach. The walls, carved from smooth obsidian, seemed to hum with hidden energy. Symbols of death, life, and rebirth flickered briefly across the surface, before fading like whispers of forgotten truths. Time warped here. Alastor could feel it—slippery and volatile, bending around him, as if the fabric of reality was fraying.

And at the center of it all, Lucius Cipher waited.

The man was draped in darkness, his silhouette barely visible in the dim glow of the shifting glyphs on the walls. Lucius’s presence was suffocating, an oppressive force that seemed to pull the very breath from the room. He didn’t sit on a throne, nor did he carry any obvious weapons. He didn’t need them. Everything about him exuded control—not through strength or fear, but through certainty, the kind of certainty that could only come from a man who had seen every outcome and mastered every timeline.

Lucius Cipher, the puppet master, the true architect of the loop, had been waiting for Alastor. And that terrified him.

Alastor forced himself to step forward, his jaw tight, his hand resting on the scarab beneath his sleeve. "You’re Lucius Cipher."

The figure in the shadows tilted his head slightly, and a slow, deliberate smile crept across his face—a smile that sent a chill down Alastor’s spine. It was the smile of a man who had already won.

"I am many things," Lucius said softly, his voice smooth and velvety, like silk draped over a blade. "But yes, you can call me Lucius Cipher, if that makes this easier for you."

Alastor’s muscles tensed. "The loop—you’re the one controlling it. You’re the reason we’re trapped in this endless cycle of death and rebirth."

Lucius chuckled, a low, mocking sound that echoed off the obsidian walls. "Trapped?" He stepped forward, his polished boots making no sound on the smooth floor. His features came into view—a man who looked impossibly elegant, dressed in dark, tailored clothes that felt out of place in any era. His eyes glinted with the weight of centuries, sharp and knowing, as if he had already lived through this conversation countless times before.

"You misunderstand, Alastor," Lucius said, folding his hands behind his back. "You aren’t trapped. You’re playing the game."

Alastor’s fists clenched, anger simmering beneath the surface. "I never asked to play your game."

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Lucius gave him a pitying smile, as though speaking to a child struggling to grasp a difficult truth. "No one ever asks. That’s the beauty of it. The game plays you, Alastor. It always has. From the moment you took your first breath, you’ve been following the script written for you. Every choice, every step—all part of the plan."

Alastor’s mind raced, struggling to grasp the full weight of Lucius’s words. Had every death, every rebirth been orchestrated from the start? Was every moment he thought he had claimed for himself—his choices, his rebellion—just part of someone else’s design?

"You think the Pyramid trapped you in the loop to punish you?" Lucius continued, his voice almost amused. "No, my dear boy. It shaped you. Molded you into exactly what you were always meant to become. Every death sharpened you. Every betrayal strengthened you. You’re here because the Pyramid wanted you here." His smile deepened, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. "And you still think you have control. How adorable."

Alastor took a step forward, fury bubbling beneath his skin. "You’ve manipulated me for the last time, Cipher."

Lucius’s expression didn’t change—if anything, his smile grew more amused. "Manipulated? No, Alastor. You’ve simply been nurtured. I didn’t bring you here to stop you. I brought you here because this is exactly where you’re supposed to be."

Alastor’s pulse thundered in his ears. The weight of the scarab pressed against his wrist, pulsing with power, urging him to bend time to his will, to escape this web of control. But Lucius stood there, perfectly calm, as though he knew every move Alastor might make before it even crossed his mind.

"Why?" Alastor demanded. "Why do all of this? What’s the point of forcing us through endless death? What do you get out of this?"

Lucius’s smile softened, but it was the kind of softness that only deepened the unease. "The point, Alastor, is to master the game. The Pyramid was never just about survival or power. It’s about perfection. Every loop refines the system. Every death brings us closer to the ultimate truth." He spread his hands slowly, as though unveiling a grand design. "You are here because you are part of that truth. A necessary piece in a puzzle that spans lifetimes."

Alastor’s fists shook at his sides. "And what happens if I refuse to play?"

Lucius chuckled again, a sound devoid of malice but filled with the kind of confidence that only came from centuries of control. "You won’t refuse. You can’t." His gaze locked onto Alastor’s, and for a moment, the weight of infinite lifetimes seemed to hang between them. "The loop isn’t just something you’re trapped in, Alastor. It’s what you are."

Alastor felt a cold knot twist in his stomach. "What are you saying?"

"I’m saying," Lucius whispered, stepping closer, "that every version of you—every death, every life—has always led to this moment. You don’t break the loop, Alastor. You become it. That’s the final test."

The words hit Alastor like a punch to the gut. He staggered slightly, struggling to make sense of what he had just heard. All along, he had believed that the loop was a prison, a curse he could break. But now, Lucius was telling him that the loop wasn’t just around him—it was inside him. Every death, every rebirth, every version of himself that had ever existed was woven into the fabric of the Pyramid. There was no escape—only acceptance.

Lucius smiled, the expression cold and knowing. "You think you’re playing the game, Alastor," he said softly. "But the truth is..." His voice dropped to a near whisper. "The game has always been playing you."