A realm of nothingness.
An unattended paradox-one that defied the very concept of existence. It was neither space nor a
place bound by time. No stars shone here, no winds whispered, and no echoes lingered. Even the
idea of light dared not trespass, for this was not mere darkness. It was something deeper-an abyss
so absolute that even the void itself seemed shallow in comparison.
Silence reigned. Not the quiet of peace, but a stillness heavy with unseen weight. A suffocating
absence, thick with the remnants of something lost. This was not emptiness. It was the hollow
imprint of a presence so overwhelming that reality itself had recoiled.
Yet, it was not erased.
No divine will had struck it down, no cosmic force had sealed it away. No prophecy spoke of its
end-because none had survived to tell the tale. Those who had dared to stand against it had
perished, their very existence devoured, leaving behind no stories, no warnings, not even a whisper
of their names. Those who had not died had not truly lived. They had been left in a state worse than
death-suspended between decay and eternity, their broken forms displayed like grotesque
ornaments within the halls of the very being they sought to destroy.
The ones who should have remembered had been reduced to silence. Their minds shattered, their
voices stolen by the sheer impossibility of what they had witnessed. And so, the memory of it faded.
Not by war. Not by divine decree. But by the weight of something that should never have been.
And in the heart of that abyss, in the deepest sanctum where no god dared tread-he slept.
Until now.
A flinch.
Barely a movement. Something so minuscule, so insignificant, that even the lowest of celestial
beings would have overlooked it. And yet, the void itself reacted. The unseen fabric of this forsaken
realm trembled, as if dreading the presence that had begun to stir.
His awakening was not a return. It was a calamity.
The remnants of slaughtered gods-once-deific forms reduced to grotesque trophies-shuddered upon
the walls of his resting place. Their flesh, long since decayed, sloughed off in putrid chunks,
dissolving into the floor like whispers of a forgotten past. Divine bones, once thought indestructible,
groaned under an unseen pressure, cracking as if the mere thought of his presence was too much
to bear.
Mouths that had been frozen in eternal screams quivered, their withered tongues attempting to
whisper-though whether in agony, in warning, or in mindless despair, none would ever know. Empty
sockets, blackened by time, dripped with an ichor that should not exist.
Even in death, they knew.
They knew what was waking.
The walls of his sanctum bled, dark streaks oozing from the very cracks of reality. The corpses-no,
the remnants-twitched, their shattered limbs jerking in grotesque mockery of life. Even in eternal
silence, they still sought to flee, to escape the grasp of the one who had put them there. But they
could not.
Because there was nowhere to run.
Yet, while the dead and the forsaken trembled, the realm itself did not.
The void did not resist. It did not cower. It welcomed him.
For this was not just his prison-it was his dominion.
It had waited. For millennia, for epochs beyond counting, it had waited. And now, as the stillness
cracked, as his presence began to rise once more, the abyss itself rejoiced.
Not with chaos, but with reverence.
The nothingness trembled-not in fear, but in exhilaration. The unseen fabric of the realm stretched,
expanded, curling toward him like servants awaiting their master. Space bowed before him, warping
and shifting, eager to be molded by his will.
And then, in a single breath, his eyes opened.
They were terrifying-and yet, mesmerizing.
Deep pools of cosmic blue, vast and endless, yet sharp enough to pierce through time itself. They
shimmered, galaxies folding and unfolding within their endless depths. Not just eyes, but something
far beyond mortal comprehension-a reflection of all that had been, all that was, and all that would
be.
For the first time in an eternity, his thoughts stirred.
Slow, at first. Not hazy, not confused-just distant, like fragments of a past untouched by time. But as
the weight of slumber lifted, so too did the weight of memory.
"How long has it been?"
"How far has my dominion fallen?"
"Is there even anything left to rule?"
The thought did not anger him. It did not concern him. It simply existed. An idle curiosity. A question
that would soon have an answer.
For his awakening was no longer a mere possibility.
It was inevitable.
The void cracked.
And with that single, idle breath-
The heavens trembled.