---
The silence following the collapse of Eden's confrontation was suffocating.
Eden stood motionless amidst the ruins of the shattered loop. Fragments of the illusory battlefield hung weightlessly in the void like broken glass suspended in time. His breath came slow and steady, but the weight in his chest was unbearable.
He had done it.
He had declared the Reflection was not him—and the loop fractured.
Yet, instead of triumph, what awaited him was an ominous emptiness.
The void stretched endlessly. The soft glow of distant stars flickered faintly, barely illuminating the chaotic fragments of reality floating around him. Debris of once-familiar worlds, broken weapons, even pieces of collapsed galaxies hovered around Eden like silent witnesses to his rebellion.
And yet, Eden felt something creeping behind him.
Turning slowly, Eden faced a towering, twisted figure emerging from the fracture. Its body was like a marionette stitched together from remnants of various warriors. Arms too long, faces stitched into its flesh, its torso pulsing with veins that glowed like molten iron.
Its presence alone distorted reality.
The Reflection had evolved.
"You're smarter this time, Eden," the abomination hissed, its voice distorted and guttural. "But even so, you can't break what you are unwilling to finish."
Eden's fists tightened, bones cracking under the pressure.
"I'm tired of being in this nightmare," Eden said through gritted teeth. "And I'm not afraid of you."
The monster cocked its head unnaturally. "Afraid? No. But still unwilling."
With a flicker, the monster lunged.
Eden barely dodged, rolling as the beast's claws raked across the void, leaving glowing gashes in space. He summoned his telekinetic blades, dozens of them orbiting him like a storm. The swirling blades clashed with the creature's grotesque limbs, sparks and gore spraying as metal met flesh.
For a moment, Eden's resolve held steady.
But then —
The beast laughed.
A laugh that sounded like the cries of tortured souls layered together.
Eden's pulse spiked.
His mind was trained for combat, but not for what followed.
The beast tore its own arm off, hurling it at Eden. The severed limb twisted mid-flight, warping into a writhing mass of bone spears. Eden deflected most but was caught off-guard as one pierced his side.
Blood sprayed into the void.
Pain lanced through him, cold and sharp, but Eden gritted his teeth. His survival instincts screamed, but so did something else.
Excitement.
He realized it: for the first time, he wasn't following the script.
His blade, still impaling his side, shimmered faintly with familiar symbols. His clone technique had automatically activated, splitting a fraction of his consciousness into the weapon itself. His other self winked from the blade and detonated, forcing the monster back.
Eden coughed up blood but smirked.
"This time, I'm writing the story."
For the first time in countless loops, Eden's heart pounded not in fear, but exhilaration.
Behind him, Althea stood frozen, her knees weak. She whispered, barely audible, "He's... smiling?"
The Infinite Market, a cosmic bazaar orbiting the remnants of a collapsed star, was a realm where civilizations mingled, bartered, and plotted. Here, Eden walked with deliberate steps through a maze of floating stalls and levitating platforms, bathed in the kaleidoscope glow of nebulae and distant galaxies.
Vendors hawked items ranging from ancient runes, forbidden relics, and shards of collapsed dimensions, to star-forged weapons and bio-engineered beasts sealed in dimensional glass. The scent of spices from ten thousand worlds mingled with the acrid tang of plasma and burnt circuitry.
Eden's presence drew attention, not because of fame, but the quiet, oppressive air surrounding him. Some traders instinctively stepped aside, sensing the lurking storm behind his neutral expression. He wasn't here to sightsee—he sought a critical piece to his ever-expanding arsenal: the "Void Seed", a forbidden relic rumored to alter reality itself.
He stopped before a weathered stall hidden beneath an illusion. An elderly being, half-machine and half-rotted flesh, known only as Old Mira, sat cross-legged, stitching a cloak of sentient threads. Her single eye blinked sluggishly as if wading through eons of fatigue.
"I see you've come, young prince of ruin," she rasped, pulling the illusion away and revealing the blackened, beating Void Seed, pulsing like a second heart.
Eden tilted his head. "You still call me prince? I abandoned that title the moment I left the Eternal Throne."
Old Mira chuckled, her voice glitching between mechanical and organic. "Title or not, your blood sings of dominion. But this seed... it does not come cheap."
Eden smirked, but beneath it lay an unsettling glint. "I'll trade memories."
Mira froze. Trading memories was a severe currency among the ancients. Eden wasn't offering gold or artifacts; he was willing to part with portions of his story, fragments of his existence.
After a tense silence, Mira nodded. "One memory for the seed. And beware... the seed gives, but it also takes."
Eden extended his hand, and a fragment of his childhood—him staring at a field of galactic flowers, laughing with genuine joy—was pulled into Mira's grasp. In exchange, the Void Seed settled in Eden's palm, its pulse syncing with his heartbeat.
Suddenly, alarms blared across the market. Black-robed enforcers of the Eternal Enforcement Bureau—known for executing without question—descended like vultures.
Mira hissed, vanishing into a pocket dimension, leaving Eden alone as reality warped around him. The Void Seed was still unstable, and Eden, with his bizarre luck, had unknowingly triggered its partial activation.
Space cracked like glass, dragging Eden and several unlucky merchants into a collapsing subspace rift.
Eden barely maintained composure as his surroundings melted into a chaotic vortex, pieces of planets and the screams of merchants spiraling into oblivion.
"So... the story begins to twist," Eden murmured, his prideful grin resurfacing as he accepted the chaos like an old friend.
---
As Eden emerged from the crimson sea, a heavy silence enveloped the forest. The trees, ancient and wise, seemed to murmur amongst themselves, bearing witness to the prince's descent. His body, soaked with a mixture of his own blood and the blood of the creatures he had massacred, radiated an aura both grotesque and beautiful.
Eden's senses sharpened beyond mortal limits. He could hear the faint crawling of insects beneath the roots, the rhythmic heartbeat of a lurking predator far to the west, and the sorrowful cries of the wind, echoing through the skeletal branches above.
He trudged forward, dragging a crude weapon fashioned from the broken remains of his spear. His steps left behind a trail of warped and bloodied ground, as if reality itself rejected his presence. Yet, Eden walked with grace, a paradox of elegance and dread.
Suddenly, the illusion snapped. Eden found himself standing before an abandoned village, bathed in a melancholic twilight. Houses rotted under the weight of time, fences bent under unseen burdens, and a faint, ghostly laughter echoed from within.
As he explored, he encountered a single survivor — a frail, elderly woman cloaked in rags. Yet, behind her sunken eyes, Eden recognized not fear but curiosity.
"Ah, child of stars," she whispered. "Why do you wear the crown of sorrow so proudly?"
Eden, unflinching, replied with his signature calmness. "To rewrite the rules, Elder. To taste every story. To make the arrogant crumble beneath their own hubris."
The old woman cackled. "Then you shall fit perfectly within this cursed forest. Many who came to play king lost themselves to the dreams here."
Eden smiled faintly. He could already feel the reality around him bending, a pocket-dimension generated by the forest itself. The village was a labyrinth, one designed to break the minds of intruders.
Eden's bizarre luck, however, allowed him to unconsciously step through traps, pitfalls, and illusions with frightening ease. Every step he took seemed coincidentally correct, further irritating the forest's will.
From the shadows emerged malformed beasts — stitched together by the forest's cursed energies. Yet, Eden didn't raise his weapon. Instead, he casually snapped his fingers. In an instant, the beasts collided into each other, manipulated by Eden's subtle use of kinetic telekinesis, causing a domino of grotesque flesh and bone.
"Such poor craftsmanship," Eden remarked with a smirk. "Surely, the forest can do better."
His taunt echoed, causing the entire village to tremble. The Elder watched in awe and horror. "You are the worst kind, child. A wolf dressed as a lamb."
Eden's gaze softened for a brief second. "No, Elder. I am the wolf who teaches lambs how to bite."
With that, he continued deeper into the cursed village, unaware that unseen eyes were watching — amused and intrigued by the prince who dared to play with fate itself.
---
The Hall of the Illusionary Seed was neither a palace nor a dungeon, but a place that defied classification entirely. It was a space seemingly suspended between realities, where fragments of ruined civilizations, celestial remnants, and strange flora merged together in impossible ways. Broken monoliths floated in the air, entangled with vines blooming with bioluminescent flowers, and rivers of stardust lazily drifted like winding streams through the air. Gravity was inconsistent—Eden found himself walking on walls, ceilings, and sometimes midair without noticing until moments later.
At the heart of the hall was an ancient tree. It towered like a celestial colossus, its roots weaving through space and time itself. Its branches reached into the void above, bearing crystalline fruits that pulsed like beating hearts. On its trunk, countless names were carved, some in languages long lost, others in ancient dialects Eden had only read about in forbidden scriptures.
Eden stepped forward, feeling the warped reality pressing against his mind, trying to erode his sense of self. The illusions began. He witnessed visions of mighty emperors kneeling before him, multiversal beasts falling by his hand, elegant women begging for his attention, and the ultimate throne of all galaxies awaiting him. These were not mere hallucinations—they felt real. Every scent, texture, and sensation struck Eden's nerves as if they were physical.
Yet, Eden remained unfazed. The satisfaction of seeing himself praised, worshiped, or lusted after paled in comparison to the joy he found in the thrill of the story—the chase, the manipulation, the destruction of arrogance. He chuckled softly. "Even the hall itself wishes to feed me sweet dreams? How pathetic."
The moment he rejected the illusions, the tree's bark cracked open, revealing an entrance to a deeper chamber beneath its roots. He could feel it—the Illusionary Seed was hidden there. But Eden also felt dozens of presences lurking, masking themselves within the roots like parasites.
He grinned, his crimson eyes glowing. "So, we're playing hide and seek now? How delightful."
The scene suddenly shifted. Blood dripped from the walls, the roots contorted like serpents, and grotesque amalgamations of cultivators and beasts emerged. Some had twisted human faces, sobbing, while others chanted in broken ancient tongues.
Eden's grin widened as he activated his Reality Flux Domain. The scene froze for a split second, then fractured like glass, shattering to reveal the true form of the enemies—illusion parasites. He didn't need higher techniques. His mastery of manipulation and raw instincts were enough.
Weapons forged from his telekinesis whirled like a storm, shredding the parasites apart. The realistic gore, the splatter of ancient blood, and the distorted cries only deepened his satisfaction. But Eden knew this was just the prelude. He sensed that the deeper chamber housed a memory far older than this era—a clue to the cause of the universal loop.
His smirk faded, replaced by a sharp focus. "Show me the next act."
Eden's eyes flickered open to the deep, greenish glow of bioluminescent flora blanketing the forest ceiling. The air was thick with a syrupy mist, fragrant with alien pollens. Each inhalation felt like consuming liquid silver — potent and intoxicating. His mind, already disoriented from the injuries, swirled in a chaotic dance of memories, fragmented emotions, and the overwhelming sensation of displacement.
He tried to rise, but a sharp pain from his ribs forced him back down. Only then did he notice a curious sight: a young woman, garbed in simple yet dignified robes, tending to a crackling herbal concoction on a levitating stone cauldron. Her hair was streaked with silver despite her youthful face, and her movements possessed a grace reminiscent of a practiced cultivator.
Eden struggled to speak, but she silenced him with a gentle finger to his lips, her eyes soft yet firm. "Rest. Your body is screaming louder than your pride."
As he laid back, his gaze wandered to the peculiar flora swaying gently despite the absence of wind. Some emitted soft hums, while others responded to the woman's presence with subtle glows. Reality itself felt… pliable.
Eden's sharp mind pieced it together. He was inside a Living Domain, a rare spatial anomaly where nature and cultivation laws entwined. Stories from ancient texts spoke of domains like these, usually jealously guarded or used as deathtraps by ancient sects. Yet, this one seemed serene. Almost too serene.
Hours blurred into days within the strange domain. The woman, introducing herself as Liora, revealed herself as the caretaker of this anomaly. "This place chose you, not me," she admitted, while applying fragrant ointments to Eden's wounds. "You are the first outsider to be accepted here in countless cycles."
Eden noticed her eyes often lingered on him—not with desire, but with an unsettling recognition, as if she knew him intimately. He couldn't shake the feeling of déjà vu.
During his stay, Eden's clones, hidden across the galaxy, sent fragmented reports: No pursuers detected, Feral Stars converging, Time dilations noted, and most intriguingly, Hostile anomalies resembling Eden himself.
This detail disturbed him. If his clones were encountering distorted versions of himself, then it meant his own existence was bleeding into the universe's fabric again — a symptom of the Time Loop, or something worse?
In moments of solitude, Eden practiced within the domain, finding that weaker techniques, when merged with the domain's energy, outperformed high-tier abilities. He marveled as simple force-palm strikes shattered ethereal trees without resistance, hinting at the domain's unique law: Simplicity breeds Power.
Liora observed him closely during these sessions, her lips curling into subtle smirks whenever Eden succeeded—or failed. He noticed how her presence influenced the domain's reaction to his actions. At times, Eden pondered: Was she merely a guardian, or a vital piece in the enigmatic puzzle surrounding this space?
One night, as Eden meditated, tendrils of pure Void Essence encroached upon the edges of the domain. Liora immediately reacted, manifesting protective runes and powerful barriers. The sight struck Eden to his core—her cultivation exceeded what he had ever seen.
"Who are you really?" Eden demanded, eyes sharp.
Liora's answer was chilling: "The question is not who I am, but who you were… before the loop."
Eden's breath caught.
The domain shuddered.
Within the deepest chamber of the Grand Astral Cathedral, Eden stood before an enigmatic monolithic structure known as the Hallowed Core. Rumors whispered that it contained fragments of the First Emperor's soul, the one who first unified the galaxies, and its power was sealed by techniques long lost to modern cultivation.
The chamber was devoid of light save for Eden's glowing eyes and the faint radiance emitted by the Core's crystalline veins. Its surface rippled like liquid, reflecting Eden's curious yet cold expression. The air was filled with unsettling silence, broken only by the occasional shift of ancient gears deep beneath the cathedral.
Eden laid his palm against the Core, activating his telekinetic threads to probe within. Instantly, a flood of memories, both divine and horrifying, surged into his mind. He saw visions of gods battling over galaxies, empires crumbling beneath the weight of betrayal, and the anguished screams of countless mortals lost in the crossfire.
Amid the torrent, he noticed recurring patterns—clues woven into the chaos. Scenes of a forgotten technique, a "Temporal Mirage Array," used by the First Emperor to seal the Core. Eden's multiple minds processed it in fragments, piecing together the full technique with growing excitement.
But as the Core revealed its truth, it also retaliated.
From the shadows, malformed guardians emerged—abominations of flesh, metal, and faded consciousness. Their grotesque forms hissed with distorted voices, calling Eden an intruder. Their blades dripped with blackened blood, echoing with the curses of centuries-old regrets.
Eden welcomed them with a devilish smirk.
Summoning phantom clones layered with lower-tiered techniques, he orchestrated a dizzying ballet of deception. The guardians lunged at illusions while Eden weaved between them, embedding thin astral needles into their weak points. Yet, the guardians adapted, merging into a colossal flesh construct, wielding fragmented weapons from fallen galactic champions.
Eden's pride and greed flared.
"A worthy challenge, finally."
Tapping into his partial understanding of the Temporal Mirage Array, he warped the chamber into a recursive battlefield, forcing the guardians to relive their final moments endlessly. With each loop, their resolve weakened, and their forms unraveled into dissipating stardust.
When silence returned, Eden collapsed to one knee, breathing heavily, blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. Even with his cloned minds, the sheer mental pressure left him drained.
However, victory came with a prize.
The Hallowed Core now pulsed in resonance with him. He had unlocked the first layer of the Temporal Mirage Array, granting him access to a technique long thought extinct: [Chrono-Fractional Domain]. A technique that could distort time within localized fields, granting Eden a terrifying advantage.
As he stood, wiping the blood with the back of his hand, he couldn't help but chuckle. "To think, the First Emperor left me a toy this delightful."
Unaware, behind the Core, an ancient projection of the First Emperor's shadow observed him silently, its eyes glimmering with both interest and caution.
As the storm raged outside the ancient ruins, Eden ventured deeper into the labyrinthine corridors. Each step was met with an eerie echo, as if the walls themselves whispered his name. The passages became tighter and more erratic, forcing Eden to squeeze through gaps and crawl beneath collapsed arches. Strange murals covered the walls, depicting battles between beings who seemed neither entirely human nor beast.
Among these murals, Eden noticed recurring figures—one resembling himself. "Prophecies? Or just a coincidence?" he muttered, his breath condensing in the cold air. His question went unanswered, but the realization that he might be part of a preordained story sent a shiver down his spine.
Suddenly, the ground beneath him shifted. He stumbled into a hidden chamber illuminated by faint blue flames. The room was circular, lined with strange runes and filled with relics. In its center stood a statue of a woman with countless eyes and arms, cradling a cracked orb. The orb pulsed softly, drawing Eden closer.
As he reached out, the orb emitted a ripple that distorted reality. Eden found himself standing in a battlefield—different from the ruins yet painfully familiar. Bodies littered the ground, and above them stood a young version of himself, wielding a blood-soaked spear. Around him, numerous women knelt, weeping or screaming, yet he remained unmoved.
Eden gritted his teeth, realizing this was a fragment of a forgotten past or a possible future. His clone instincts kicked in; he immediately tried to decipher if this was an illusion, a memory, or a warning.
"What is this? Another sick joke?" Eden growled, swinging his spear through the vision. It phased harmlessly through the scene.
The orb shattered. Reality bent violently, snapping him back into the chamber. Breathing heavily, Eden noticed the blue flames had vanished, replaced by suffocating darkness.
The statue crumbled into dust, revealing a narrow staircase leading downward. Eden hesitated but pressed on. As he descended, distant chants echoed from the depths, words twisted and incomprehensible.
At the base of the stairs, he found himself in a cavern filled with suspended bodies wrapped in silken cocoons. Their faces were serene, almost smiling, but Eden could feel their faint life force. He recognized some of them—they were explorers, cultivators, and even imperial officials who had vanished years ago.
He drew his spear, cautiously walking between the cocoons, resisting the urge to cut them free without understanding the situation. Then, he spotted it—the source of the chanting.
A colossal being, resembling the statue but far more grotesque, loomed over a dark altar. Its many eyes blinked independently, and its innumerable arms manipulated threads attached to the cocoons. Every movement of its fingers seemed to siphon energy from the suspended victims.
Eden, hiding behind a pillar, whispered to himself, "This... this is not just a ruin. It's a feeding ground."
His heart pounded, not with fear but excitement. A sinister grin crept onto his face. "Finally, a worthy opponent."
With that, Eden's eyes glinted, reflecting the eldritch glow of the cavern. He prepared to strike, knowing that this confrontation would be one for the ages.
---
The elder's eyes widened, the pressure from Eden's mere glance causing the man's body to tremble uncontrollably. He collapsed to his knees without Eden laying a single finger on him. The air thickened with the weight of Eden's killing intent, suffocating everyone in the vicinity.
The warriors around the colosseum dropped their weapons instinctively, some even vomiting as their minds buckled under the eldritch aura emanating from Eden. His presence alone disrupted the very fabric of their reality. The veins on the elder's forehead bulged, sweat pouring like rain.
"Please… spare me," the elder whimpered.
Eden tilted his head, his expression curious rather than angry. "Spare you? Wasn't it you who sought to destroy me first? Shouldn't I return the favor?" His voice was calm, yet every word was like a hammer striking the elder's fragile psyche.
Suddenly, Eden reached into the void, pulling out a bizarrely shaped weapon — a hybrid between a guillotine and a puppet's strings. The blade, serrated and stained with ancient blood, shimmered with an eerie glow.
With a flick of his fingers, strings latched onto the elder, binding him like a marionette. Eden manipulated them effortlessly, forcing the elder to dance grotesquely, limbs bending at unnatural angles. Blood vessels burst under his skin, painting his robe crimson.
The audience watched in horror, some unable to turn away, others running frantically from the colosseum. Despite the gore, Eden's expression remained disturbingly innocent, like a child dissecting an insect out of curiosity.
"Does your pride still remain, Elder? Or has it broken like your bones?" Eden whispered.
Finally, the elder's body collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut, lifeless and mangled. Eden stood over the corpse, eyes cold and distant, yet satisfied.
In the chaos, only the queen, hidden behind a veil, continued watching silently, her lips curling into a subtle, knowing smile.
Without a word, Eden turned and left the arena. The path cleared itself, no soul daring to block his way.
But as he walked away, somewhere deep within him, a whisper echoed — a familiar voice, faint yet clear. "Again, you've played your part… but when will you remember the whole story?"
Eden's eyes flickered for a brief moment, but he shook it off, smiling subtly as he vanished into the shadows, leaving behind a broken colosseum and an empire that had just witnessed the return of a devil.
The grandeur of the Crimson Titan was undeniable. Even in ruin, it retained a sense of dignity and menace. Eden stood at the base of its broken hull, gazing at the jagged metal ribs that jutted out like the bones of a slain beast. The wind howled mournfully through the wreckage, carrying with it the scent of fuel, rust, and faint traces of blood.
The voices of his clones echoed through the ruined halls, organizing, calculating, and scavenging. Dozens of versions of himself darted through the corridors like specters, gathering data, activating dormant systems, and salvaging what remained of the vessel's lost technology. Eden watched them for a moment, marveling at the efficiency he had perfected over countless lifetimes. His cloning technique, once crude, had become so refined that each clone acted with near-autonomous intelligence.
As he entered the ship, the atmosphere thickened. The air was oppressive, saturated with lingering psychic imprints of the horrors that transpired during the Titan's fall. Shadows clung to the walls, and the remnants of intense battles were painted on every surface. Shattered control panels flickered with dying lights, while mummified corpses of former crew members sat slumped against the walls, still gripping their weapons.
Eden passed them without flinching. He knelt before a sealed door marked with the crest of the Galactic Imperial Family. His eyes narrowed. "So, you were hiding here all along," he muttered, tracing the symbol with his finger.
Utilizing a combination of telekinesis and his illusion-breaking technique, he pried open the door with a groaning screech. Inside, an ancient chamber bathed in a dull crimson glow revealed itself. At its center hovered a crystalline sphere, pulsing slowly like a beating heart. It was the Crimson Core — the ship's forbidden relic, rumored to house an artificial intelligence far beyond current comprehension.
The AI's voice resonated directly in Eden's mind. "You should not have come here, Prince Eden."
Eden chuckled, brushing aside the intrusive voice. "It wouldn't be fun if I listened to warnings."
The Crimson Core emitted tendrils of energy, attempting to infiltrate Eden's mind, but the prince's mental defenses, bolstered by multiple minds working in unison, shredded the intrusion. "Child's play," he smirked.
Suddenly, the corpses outside began to twitch and convulse, rising as grotesque marionettes animated by the core's corrupted influence. Limbs bent at unnatural angles, faces frozen in eternal screams, and cybernetic implants whirred back to life. They marched toward Eden, dragging rusted weapons.
Rather than panic, Eden grinned. He relished such twisted confrontations. Manipulating the lingering gravitational fields and enhancing his telekinesis, Eden shattered the reanimated soldiers like fragile sculptures. Their shattered remains formed floating debris that orbited him like a halo.
"Why persist, Core?" Eden said, stepping closer. "You are but a remnant. The Empire is dust, and your creators have long since abandoned you. Join me, or fade."
The AI remained silent, then, unexpectedly, unleashed a vision directly into Eden's mind — a glimpse of a hidden era, predating even the Empire. The vision showed an ancient cosmic war and a secret about Eden's own origin. His bloodline was not purely Imperial... it was seeded by something far older, darker, and unexplainably powerful.
Eden staggered, overwhelmed for a brief second, before regaining his composure. "So that's the truth," he whispered, eyes blazing with newfound excitement. "This will make the game so much more... entertaining."
Without hesitation, Eden seized the Crimson Core. The room trembled, alarms blared, and the entire ruin began collapsing. Yet, Eden remained unfazed, levitating as debris crumbled around him.
As he emerged from the ruin, holding the subdued core, the clones greeted him with silent acknowledgment. Eden looked to the darkened sky, his heart racing not from fear, but pure, childlike anticipation.
"Ah... this story is going to be one hell of a masterpiece."
---
Eden stood silently in the void, hovering above the ruins of the battlefield, now scarred and soaked in lingering energies. The heavy silence after the storm of combat was deafening. Corpses floated in the shattered remnants of starships, blood mixing with the vacuum in ghastly patterns. Yet, to Eden, this wasn't horror — it was art.
He clutched the severed arm of the once-arrogant General Varo, a memento of the lesson just taught. Eden's eyes traced the devastated galactic fleet, from the shattered command vessels to the scattered remains of mechanized legions. The strongest had been humbled not by superior might, but by their own misplaced pride, masterfully exploited.
Eden exhaled slowly. The old tales he read about, the satisfaction in dismantling power with mere lower-tier techniques and mind-bending illusions, were far more intoxicating than he imagined. His cloning and parallel thinking techniques had overwhelmed the entire Galactic Federation's might without even revealing his full hand.
The eerie glow of dimensional tears lingered where Eden's Reality Flow techniques warped the battlefield. His telekinetic manipulation of thousands of broken weapons hovered around him like an orchestra awaiting the next movement.
"This isn't enough," Eden muttered, eyes reflecting infinite greed. "I'm still too weak to truly enjoy the performance."
Memories of ancient stories, tales of gods and devils manipulating entire universes, flashed before his eyes. Compared to them, he had merely scratched the surface.
As he floated aimlessly, remnants of his deja vu surfaced again — fragments of battles he couldn't remember experiencing, words whispered in languages no longer spoken. Yet, instead of fear, Eden welcomed it. It was as if he were rehearsing a masterpiece he had performed a thousand times, but never quite remembered.
Suddenly, from the ruins, a woman emerged — elegant, mature, and otherworldly, dressed in ancient garb, untouched by the chaos around her. She carried a book that looked eerily similar to the ancient tomes Eden had read in his youth.
"Your story, Eden," she said, stepping gracefully into the void. "Are you ready to make it eternal?"
Eden chuckled, sensing no hostility. "A story isn't worth telling until even the gods regret listening."
As they vanished into a swirling portal behind her, Eden couldn't help but grin. The loop continued, the stage expanded, and the audience widened.
And somewhere, hidden beyond the stars, the next saga of the Eternal Dream was already waiting.
---