The Silent Abyss — Fracture of Eternity
The Silent Abyss, once endless and still,
now churned like a wounded storm.
The rivers of the Void boiled.
The skies of nothingness screamed.
The Black Throne — once veiled in patient silence —
blazed with light and fire.
And at its heart,
the Cocoon of Authority,
the vessel that had held the slumbering Sovereign for eons,
cracked wide.
Black light poured out.
Silver light tore through the seams of existence.
A sound deeper than death —
older than the first breath of the multiverse —
echoed across every plane of reality.
It was not a roar.
It was not a word.
It was a return.
Seraphis knelt before the Throne,
her silver hair rippling wildly in the breaking storm.
Beside her, Caelora stood with her blade plunged into the stone,
both hands gripping the hilt to remain steady.
Tears streamed from Seraphis's golden eyes,
but she smiled.
"He is waking," she whispered.
"At last," Caelora breathed, her voice trembling.
The Cocoon shattered.
Fragments of authority,
laws of reality,
threads of destiny itself,
tumbled outward into the endless night.
And from the heart of the explosion,
he stepped forward.
Veyrath.
King of the Silent Abyss.
The True Sovereign of All Worlds.
No longer sleeping.
Awake.
His eyes — black pools swirling with galaxies and dying stars —
opened slowly,
burning through every layer of creation.
His body radiated an existence too vast to be contained:
Worlds warped at the edges of his breath.
Dimensions folded and knelt in instinctive submission.
The very idea of "time" staggered and collapsed around him.
A being beyond gods.
Beyond demons.
Beyond all the shallow kings who had dared to call themselves rulers while he slept.
He lifted a single hand.
And across the multiverse,
millions of lesser worlds trembled.
Countless bloodlines, empires, and heavens bowed,
unaware of why their spirits quaked,
unaware that their true King had returned.
Seraphis pressed her forehead to the ground, voice choked with joy.
"Welcome home, my King," she said, her soul pouring out in reverence.
Caelora dropped to one knee, sword laid before her in offering.
"We have waited," she said.
"We have guarded.
The Throne remains yours."
Veyrath's gaze swept over them.
Not cruel.
Not angry.
Simply inevitable.
The will of a King who had never been dethroned — only forgotten by insects.
He spoke — a voice that was not sound, but command woven into existence itself:
"It is time."
"The multiverse will remember."
"All worlds will kneel."
Meanwhile — Across the Multiverse
Across scattered galaxies and broken dimensions,
powerful beings — gods, titans, immortals —
paused in terror.
Some dropped to their knees without understanding.
Some screamed in denial.
Some wept at the loss of their borrowed crowns.
The primal memory of a greater King awoke in their bones.
And Black Zetsu, hiding in the shadows of Earth's forgotten ruins,
felt the pulse and smiled with ancient joy.
"He has returned," the whisper said.
"The King walks again."
In the Moon
Sealed deep inside the cold stone of the Moon,
Kaguya — drifting in endless sleep —
stirred faintly.
She did not wake.
But across her mind,
a single thought flickered like a dying star reigniting:
"He's here."
"He's come back for me."
And for the first time in an eternity,
she smiled.
Thus began the true beginning.
Thus the worlds would remember:
Veyrath had awakened.
And all would kneel.