Chapter 204: Chapter 204: Crowned in Chains
The marrow station pulsed like a living organ.
Every tile, every wall, every length of warped subway steel breathed with a rhythm too deep for the human ear yet too heavy to ignore. It was in the floor, in the air, in their bones. The kneeling creatures echoed that rhythm with their chant, their voices layered into a single word that pressed against Lin’s skull until it felt carved into his marrow.
"Heir. Heir. Heir."
The sound was endless, reverent, suffocating. It drowned out the memory of gunfire, the drip of ichor, even Min-joon’s shallow, terrified breaths.
Lin stood frozen, chains quivering at his sides like serpents ready to strike. His lungs burned with every inhale, the air thick with metallic tang and wet rot. The marrow lines had accepted them into their depths—but not as intruders. Not as prey. They bowed, worshipping, as if he had always belonged here.
Keller’s rifle clicked as the safety came off. His stance was steady, but his jaw was tight, the corded muscle in his neck jumping with rage.
"Lin," he growled, low and dangerous. "Say the word. One word, and I’ll end this before it gets any worse."
Min-joon’s hand shot out, slapping the barrel of Keller’s gun downward. His voice cracked, raw with desperation.
"No! Don’t you dare! They’re still people—look at them! You can see it. Their faces, their eyes—they’re not gone, not completely."
"They’re gone," Keller spat, wrenching the gun back. His teeth clenched hard enough to grind. "I’ve seen enough warzones to know when something isn’t coming back. And these things? They’re corpses that don’t know they’re dead yet."
"They’re victims," Min-joon snapped back, trembling but firm. His gaze swung to Lin, his eyes wet. "And Lin isn’t going to let you execute victims, not when there’s still a chance—right? Right, Lin?"
But Lin’s throat was locked. The word heir pressed so deep into his chest that it hurt to breathe. His heart beat not with his own rhythm, but with the marrow’s.
Inside him, the whispers sharpened, gathering into a single voice. A voice he would never mistake.
"Don’t deny what you are."
Jin.
The name tore through him like shrapnel. His knees buckled. His chains lashed out without command, smashing against the walls in bursts of crimson light. Tiles shattered, ichor sprayed across the platform, the ground quaked.
"Lin!" Min-joon cried, grabbing his arm, trying to anchor him. "Fight it! You’re stronger than this! You always have been!"
But Lin couldn’t answer. His body was trembling violently, veins burning with a fever that wasn’t his own. The marrow’s pulse had synced with his own heartbeat, each throb dragging him further from himself. He wasn’t sure where Lin ended and the abyss began.
Hwan’s voice slid through the chaos like oil on water—smooth, poisonous, certain.
"Stronger? No. Look at him. He’s breaking apart under the weight of denial."
Keller whipped his rifle toward him. "One more word and you’re done. Don’t think I won’t put a bullet in you."
But Hwan didn’t even flinch. His eyes were locked on Lin, as though Keller’s gun wasn’t even there. "You can’t kill a man who already got what he wanted," Hwan said softly. "I came here for this. And look—he’s finally listening."
Lin’s head snapped toward him, vision swimming crimson, but before he could speak, the kneeling figures twitched.
At first, it was a shiver. A ripple through the crowd, as though the marrow beneath them exhaled. Then it escalated into spasms. Bones cracked audibly as limbs bent at unnatural angles. Skin split, ichor gushed, glowing veins surged to the surface.
Some clawed at their own chests, tearing their torsos open as new limbs sprouted, tendrils writhing like newborn snakes. Others crawled forward on all fours, fingers stretching into talons, eyes locked on Lin with burning adoration.
"Heir," they moaned. "Heir. Heir."
Keller cursed and lifted his rifle. "That’s it. They’re turning. Lin, I’m ending this—"
But before the gun could bark, Lin’s chains exploded outward.
They struck like thunder, blurring faster than thought. One lashed around a creature’s throat and yanked it into the air. Another slammed through a second’s torso, pinning it to the wall with a crack of shattered bone. The station shook as bodies hit walls and pillars, ichor splattering in waves.
But what froze Min-joon’s blood wasn’t the violence.
It was the obedience.
The creatures didn’t resist. They screamed in ecstasy, not pain, their voices blending into a delirious chant.
"Crown him. Crown him. Crown him."
Lin staggered forward, chest heaving, eyes glowing faintly red. The marrow’s pulse thundered through him, his veins blazing as though molten metal flowed inside. He didn’t think. He didn’t choose. His will was simply law, and they obeyed.
One chain forced a creature’s head to the ground. Another yanked three bodies into a heap, bound so tightly their bones cracked like dry twigs. The station trembled as the chains coiled tighter, spreading through the air like a nest of burning serpents.
Min-joon’s face twisted with horror. "Lin... stop. Please stop. You’re controlling them." His voice broke. "You’re not you anymore—you’re it
.""I..." Lin’s words faltered. His throat was raw, his chest burning. "I didn’t mean—"
But even as he said it, the lie curdled in his mouth. Some part of him had meant it. Some part of him had wanted this—the silence, the submission, the power. For the first time, he wasn’t hunted, wasn’t cornered. He was recognized.
The marrow shuddered. Ichor cascaded down the walls like waterfalls, glowing with a fever-bright crimson. The ground itself bowed beneath his feet as though kneeling, as though waiting for him to step higher.
The creatures screamed louder, their chant reaching a crescendo.
"Crowned. At last."
The words pierced him like a blade. His chains blazed with red fire, stretching higher, fanning out like wings of iron and blood.
Lin’s reflection in the ichor stared back at him—not Lin, but something crowned in chains, eyes burning with abyssal light, a monarch born of rot and reverence.
Min-joon staggered back, tears streaking down his face. "No... no, Lin, this isn’t you. It can’t be." His hands shook violently. "Don’t let it take you. Don’t let it take my brother too."
Keller swore under his breath, rifle shaking in his grip. His face was pale, eyes hard. For the first time, he didn’t look like a soldier ready to execute. He looked like a man staring at the impossible, afraid he’d have to try. Afraid he’d fail.
And Hwan... Hwan smiled. That thin, satisfied smile that said he’d already seen this ending written long ago.
"Crowned," he whispered. "Just as it was meant to be."
Lin turned on him, chains flaring in violent arcs. His voice tore from his throat, cracked and broken but carrying weight that wasn’t his alone.
"I’m not your heir. I’m not your crown."
But the marrow didn’t care. Neither did the creatures. Their worship thundered on, shaking the platform, echoing through the marrow lines for miles.
And beneath it all, Jin’s voice came again—closer, warmer, inevitable.
"You don’t get to choose anymore, brother."
The marrow walls cracked, ichor geysering into the air. The ground split open, the station groaning as if bowing lower. Lin stood in the center of it all, chains spread wide like wings, surrounded by kneeling horrors who called his name not as prey, not as foe, but as king.