The multiverse screamed.
Existence, once an orchestra of light and law, had collapsed into a battlefield where no gods ruled and no rules applied. Across infinite planes, watchers—angelic, infernal, synthetic.. fell silent.
No one understood what they were witnessing.
Abyssus had been challenged before.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjQRn69PtSE
He had been resisted.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1E2U9ldncD
He had been defied.
But never—never wounded.
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The divine being hovered, body flickering between realms. No longer just the Seed, no longer just the Heralds, it was an idea given shape, the last dream of freedom armed with the final whisper of emotion: hope.
Abyssus bled silence from fractures in his form.
His gaze narrowed not in anger. Not in fear. In something worse:
Curiosity.
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“You’ve touched something forbidden,” he said.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡICJWq1rFg0
“Hope,” the fusion replied. “And more.”
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The divine being’s core pulsed with a rhythm not known to matter or spirit.
It was becoming something again.
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Abyssus extended both arms.
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“Then allow me to evolve with you.”
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And he opened the Absolute Void.
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Absolute Void
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There was no warning.
Abyssus pulled apart the seams of creation, not to destroy, but to show what came before destruction. It was not darkness. It was not emptiness.
It was unbeing.
The color of it could not be seen. The sound of it could not be heard. Yet everything recoiled, realities cracked just to keep their distance. Even time refused to pass through that space.
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The divine being began to dissolve.
Wings burned off. Light shrank. Bones of radiant thought crumbled under entropy’s laugh.
But it did not scream.
It did not resist.
It learned.
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“You think yourself untouched by this?” the fusion whispered, voice warping.
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“I do not think,” said Abyssus.
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Then the impossible happened.
The divine being barely alive opened its chest.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGKlr4V8nCW
Let the Absolute Void in.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKW580bIIUm
Embraced it. Consumed it. Wore it like skin.
And fused it with something Abyssus never understood:
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“Hope is not light,” it said.
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“It’s not the opposite of darkness. It’s the refusal to give up even when everything has already ended.”
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Hope + Absolute Void.
A paradox weapon.
And it struck.
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With a scream that sounded like creation grieving its architect, the divine being hurled itself through Abyssus. Not as light. Not as force.
But as concept.
Its fist was made of every memory lost.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡvl2IO3nZiv
Its voice, every prayer denied.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡR6xtLDCTTb
Its eyes, every sacrifice made and forgotten.
The blow landed in slow motion across all dimensions.
And Abyssus shattered.
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Universes blinked out from the recoil alone.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPjOf7Suj3V
Causal chains snapped. Future timelines bled backward.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmubSV3IkOx
And for one moment—
Abyssus ceased to exist.
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Silence
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The battlefield fell still.
The divine being hovered, barely intact. Pieces of the Heralds pulsed within it. The Seed’s glow flickered like the dying ember of a once-eternal flame.
All was quiet.
No trick.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡkf9x3Eim1N
No counterstrike.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ2J296NE6eX
No echo.
Only the void… and the heroes left standing.
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The being descended gently to what remained of a reality scaffold. The Seed reappeared, childlike again, looking at its own trembling hands. The Heralds—fragments of them—appeared in spectral echoes, nodding in unity.
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“Is it… over?” the Seed asked.
No answer.
Only a wind that didn’t belong to any world.
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Then… a sound. A crack. A ripple.
Behind them, the sky split.
From it… Abyssus stepped forward.
Unchanged.
Unfazed.
Smiling.
Not wounded. Not rebuilt.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡrlkWVKoKuH
As if the entire battle was a dream someone else had.
He tilted his head.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwWk3aTxgKk
Spoke one word.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSDle1IgQo0
Calmly. Softly. Like a teacher greeting a child:
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“Kneel.”
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The Seed fell to its knees, not in obedience, but in exhaustion.
The Heralds faded.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡmrIWfeCiKL
The divine being flickered.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡHwn6BRAht7
Hope, for a moment, seemed to crack.
Abyssus had never fought back.
He had only watched.
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There was no echo.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqApErQm5So
No cry of victory.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAc0WF8fBwI
Only the shifting weight of something wrong.
The divine being hovered in the remains of a dying reality, its body cracked with glowing seams of paradox—light and void dancing across its fractured limbs. The Seed floated nearby, quiet, breathless, staring into nothing.
Seraphiel stood furthest back, sword in hand, wings spread wide—but weary. Lyra and Tavin’s spiritual echoes flickered weakly at the rim of the battlefield, the afterglow of souls that had dared to defy impossibility.
A wind passed through space—a wind that did not belong to any world, but still carried the scent of defeat.
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Then it spoke.
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“You did not fight me.”
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Abyssus stood where he had been, untouched, calm.
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“You fought… an idea of me.”
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His voice did not echo, because the void around him refused to carry it. Words like that had weight—truth too dense to be borne by space.
The divine fusion blinked, brokenly.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMwikKgdBRI
Seraphiel gripped his blade tighter.
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“You’re lying,” he muttered.
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Abyssus didn’t respond. He simply walked forward.
Each step tore through the threads of reality, like ink spilling on a canvas of stars. Beneath his feet, galaxies unraveled into equations that no longer held meaning.
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“The being you fought was not a clone,” Abyssus continued. “It was… a mask. A shape you filled with your own fear. You fought what you believed I could be.”
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“Then why… why did the Absolute Void hurt you?” the Seed asked. His
voice, still childlike, trembled—but not in fear. In confusion.
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Abyssus tilted his head, studying the Seed. For a moment, something paused in the air. Not time. Not reality.
But… attention.
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“Because you carry a piece of me,” he said. “Even as a construct of nothing, you are still my echo. Through you… the impossible reached me.”
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Abyssus looked down at his palm. For a fraction of a second, a flicker of distortion passed through his form.
A crack.
A wound?
No. A possibility.
But it closed as quickly as it came.
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“Interesting,” he said, almost to himself. “But not dangerous.”
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Without another word, Abyssus raised his hand and closed it.
The divine being froze. Then began to fold.
Not crushed. Not shattered. Folded.
Layer by layer, its form was pulled inward like origami built in reverse, each segment of its body folding into non-existence.
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“No—NO!” Seraphiel shouted, rushing forward. His blade ignited with solar fury, wings burning through dimensions.
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Too slow.
Abyssus extended a single finger.
And with one flick, he dismissed the divine fusion, tossing it to the edge of the multiverse.
There, it screamed silently, flailing against a collapsing wall of boundaryless space, crushed between uncreation and eternal return.
The Seed cried out, his essence unspooling as the fusion’s heart was torn apart.
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Then Abyssus turned.
The remaining Heralds, three in all, stood defiantly.
They didn’t wait.
Together, they launched forward, powers colliding into perfect harmony.
They met Abyssus at once.
And he…
Waved.
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Massacre
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The wave of his hand didn’t just strike them.
It unwove them.
Two Heralds, names now lost in the wind were hit by the edge of his gesture.
Their bodies didn’t explode. They didn’t burn.
They peeled, like old paint falling off the concept of reality.
Their screams didn’t come from their mouths, but from the memory of their birth, echoing through history and fading forever.
One tried to resist. One knelt. One ran.
None survived.
The divine fusion now just fragments watched from the multiversal edge, shuddering in phantom agony.
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Abyssus turned to the last.
Seraphiel.
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A God Torn
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His armor cracked.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡC9ppyzbUqV
His wings were already broken from the battle.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ53ngT2hqgv
But Seraphiel still stood.
He did not attack.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡT6VFSA6Wmo
He did not run.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡqBrPOIbrM7
He simply said:
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“Why?”
Abyssus didn’t blink. Didn’t speak.
He raised a hand, and reality around Seraphiel broke.
Not in a straight line, but in a spiral through time.
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Seraphiel screamed.
He was hurled through every timeline that could ever exist.
Each moment lasted a fraction of a fraction of an instant, so fast, time itself gave up trying to understand it.
He saw:
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His death a thousand ways
Lyra’s eyes turning to ash
Tavin begging for salvation as his heart exploded
Worlds where he failed, burned, wept, was mocked, betrayed, abandoned
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And again.
And again.
And again.
Every scream he’d ever heard, he now spoke.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUW6JbvvQSL
Every soul he had saved, now turned their back on him.17Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡq5dOgUu0SN
Even his own name became a curse he could no longer bear.
Until—
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“Please!” he shouted. “Please—pardon me!”
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Abyssus stood still.
And softly, quietly as if merely choosing to speak out of politeness...
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“Kneel.”
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Seraphiel collapsed.
Even kneeling hurt.
His body, shattered. His wings? Mere stubs. His soul? Torn.
But he knelt.
And… everything ended
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The wind was gentle. The grass real.
A sky above, blue and cracked with light.
He was home.
Seraphiel fell into the dirt, gasping. His blade beside him, splintered and bleeding starlight. His armor in pieces.
Lyra and Tavin ran toward him, screaming. Crying.
They caught him as he fell into their arms.
He looked up. Could barely speak.
His eyes… emptier than before.
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“He never even fought us…”
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A crack ran across his weapon.
His wings drooped in blood and silence.
He had knelt. And he had survived.
But something in him, had not.
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