In a realm unimaginably far away—where land was sky and sky was land, yet there was neither—beings of lesser power would have their souls annihilated simply by gazing upon it. Here, gravity was memory, time was color, and logic itself fractured.
In this expanse sat a boy, no older than sixteen.
His eyes were lifeless and hollow. If you somehow survived witnessing the realm itself, you could still lose yourself staring into them. They were deep wells of anti-light, reflections of a trillion dying stars.
His "clothes"—if they could even be called that—were little more than rotting rags clinging to him as if they feared dissolving in the broken reality around him. They fluttered without wind, responding instead to the chaotic eddies of warped space.
He sat cross-legged, holding an ominous sword that seemed to slice through the very space it occupied. The blade wasn't metal but an absence—a wound in reality itself that refused to heal.
He raised his head so mechanically he seemed less human and more of a puppet. The universe shuddered in dread.
"I can see you" he said.
His voice was a thing of nightmares; hearing it could drive beings of immense power into soul-rending agony.
"Hahahaha… even after all this time, you're still so powerful. I wonder why" said a voice—less unsettling but still terrifying. It seemed to speak from a single point and from everywhere at once. Its laughter spread like oil on water, corrupting thought.
"Keeping me caged doesn't weaken me. I only grow more powerful. Soon this cage will beg me to leave" he replied.
His voice shattered and rearranged space for millions of light-years. Broken light twisted into fractal runes that burned themselves out. Dead planets light-years away shattered and reformed—a testament to the power housed in his unassuming body.
"Like I'd believe that..… why did they lock you in this dead cosmos? I heard you were caged somewhere but I couldn't be bothered to ask where. Until now that is"
The voice was mocking but tinged with a curious dread.
The boy paused. He remembered—not faces or names, but flames. Screams. A thousand civilizations flickering out like embers in a cosmic wind.
"What do you want?" the boy asked, no longer looking up.
His sword vibrated, dealing devastating damage to the dead cosmos—though the destruction always reformed. Every blow stitched itself back together, as if the cage refused to die.
"I've come to free you."
"What?" He asked, somewhat shocked
His aura leaked slightly, and the cosmos screamed as galaxies unraveled—this time refusing to heal. Fissures opened up in space sucking in the ruins of the dead cosmos, carcasses of dead Planets sucked in, forever lost beyond time.
"I've come to free you" the voice repeated, slower now, trying to sound soothing.
"Why?"
"Don't you want to be free?" the voice asked, sounding confused, almost wounded. But the boy wasn't fooled.
Silence spread like oil in water. His eyes dimmed, like dead stars.
"I do. But I will be free in due time. Why would you want to free me now, knowing the risk I pose—and being one of those who put me here?"
His voice trembled with ancient, cold anger but remained calm, like a quiet sea above a waiting kraken.
"Those fools don't understand you. They've grown senile with age. I do understand you—and I want to free you to continue your works."
The boy smiled—a hideous cracking of his pale face.
"I am a threat to existence itself. I've destroyed so many universes that even the Adjudicators can no longer repair the damage. And you want to set me free?"
His words dripped irony like acid.
"Do you want to be free or not?" the voice asked, suddenly impatient. Its echo lost that practiced calm.
"I will be free in due time. Leave before I make you," he said, his eyes glowing a deep, murderous red.
His aura leaked again, shattering the already broken reality. For a moment the void bled color like an open wound.
"Make me? Pfft. You—sealed here, powers suppressed—want to make me leave? I'd like to see you try."
An aura so heavy it broke space for light-years surged forth, affecting planets in distant cosmoses. Countless eyes opened in the void, all locking onto the boy. Each eye was a swirling nightmare of alien thought.
The sword buzzed—and all the eyes were instantly sliced apart. They didn't even get to scream.
"WHAT?! Impossible! You weren't this powerful when we sealed you here!"
The voice cried out, suddenly rattled by real fear.
The boy inhaled slowly. The cosmos rippled in and out of existence with the movement.
"I told you—I will outgrow this cage. My power grows daily. No chain can bind me. Being here only accelerates my power thanks to the shattered laws. Why do you think I haven't left yet?"
He stood, his aura spreading like poison through water, destroying the dead cosmos and fracturing nearby space. Galaxies blinked out like dying fireflies.
"No matter how powerful you are, you can't hurt me. This is only a clone,"the voice said, suddenly calm again, almost smug, clinging to that last illusion of safety.
The boy, now fully standing at 1.6 meters, moved so fast reality couldn't keep up.
He reappeared, grasping space itself and tearing it open to reveal a being akin to cosmic horror: a shapeless mass covered in eyes, with mouths beneath each one leaking fluids that warped and deleted reality. It shrieked in languages that murdered sound itself.
"You think you're safe because this is a clone? I can kill you through it, no matter how far away you are. But I won't kill you, not now at least." he said, voice low and full of ancient malice, cracking with hidden laughter.
"Huh, you're joking. Only the Primarchs and Supremes can do that—and you're neither," the horror said smugly, its mouths leaking vile fluids as it spoke. The eyes darted in panic despite the false bravado.
The boy gave a bone-chilling smile.
"You really think so?"
Reality flashed, no, his hand moved so fast it didn't move at all. The horror in his grip was deleted, and the space light years behind, gone with it.
The dead cosmos fractured and collapsed in on itself, fissures opened and swallowed up chunks of space and dead Planets, speeding up the collapse of the cosmos.
He smiled wider.
"It seems the time to leave is almost here. We'll soon be free. Aren't you excited?"
He spoke to no one in particular. Or perhaps to the sword.
The sword buzzed as if answering, trembling in anticipation.
"Haha, I can't wait," he said, reaching for it. His smile widened, splitting his face too far.