The next day, after attending a cosmic wedding that could only be witnessed by high entities capable of traversing the boundaries between narrative and meta-narrative, Exafanos left his little hut. The hut was nestled within a dimensional crevice, bound between a reality that never truly existed and an illusion too honest to be called false. Casually, he walked past the edges of existence, leaving space-time as if closing the door to go on a leisurely stroll.
Now, he was in outer space. But not just any outer space—this was a void beyond the horizon of known existence. There was no atmosphere, no physical laws, not even a definition of "being." Yet Exafanos sat calmly atop a moon, sipping tea brewed from no water and eating wedding cake he had stored within his personal space of vanishing. The cake was still warm, as though time itself dared not touch it.
Before him stretched billions of galaxies, glowing and spinning to a cosmic rhythm whose origin was unknowable. Stars exploded and were born again in the void, while nebulae sang in colors that no language could ever describe.
As he sipped his tea, its unfamiliar scent somehow warming the soul, Exafanos fell into thought.
"What is the meaning of a non-existence that exists?" he pondered silently. "Why do I exist, when I am the very embodiment of 'vanish' itself?"
The question struck him like a silent echo bouncing off the walls of realities that never truly were. As the fundamental entity of the concept of 'vanish,' he was no ordinary being. He was never born, never created, had no purpose, and no end. He was emptiness with awareness—and that was the most perplexing thing of all.
How could such an anomaly like himself have formed?
He reflected. From the moment he became aware of himself, he had always been alone. Even if he erased entire planets, dimensions, or entire narratives on a whim without motive, the loneliness never left him. No laughter. No sorrow. Only an endless emptiness wrapping around him like a second skin.
His power of vanishing was absolute. Anything—be it living beings, time, fate, even infinite concepts such as death and immortality—could be vanished with just a single thought. No creature, not even those outside the manuscript of reality, could escape vanishing if he willed it.
But… what for?
What was the point of such power? What was the meaning of his existence that consumed everything, only to leave behind silence? Exafanos did not know. He truly didn't.
Just as his thoughts were beginning to spiral deeper, a massive energy collision caught his attention in the distance. Two colossal forces had crashed into each other, creating a cosmic storm visible for thousands of light-years.
Calmly, Exafanos manipulated distance using his Ultimate Vanish—his absolute power that wasn't even listed in the dictionary of real laws. In an instant, he was now sitting atop a space rock, only five light-years away from the center of that clash.
The battle was magnificent.
On one side stood a massive dark entity—not just black, but the very essence of darkness. It had no fixed shape, its body pulsed like a collection of uncontrolled singularities. Each pulse shattered nearby stars into photon dust.
That was Erebos, the entity of darkness.
On the other side stood a luminous silver-white being, so radiant it would blind the eyes of those from other dimensions. Its form wasn't fixed, but its light was both soothing and terrifying. It made no sound, but every movement was a symphony of utter silence.
That was Aegle, ruler of light.
They clashed—not with swords, nor spells, but with their very existence. Their collision distorted time itself. Space warped, and even the seventh dimension began to crack into pieces.
Exafanos simply watched. To him, this was morning entertainment.
But he wasn't the only spectator. Behind invisible veils, other high entities also observed. They hid, not out of fear, but because they understood that witnessing was wiser than interfering.
Exafanos knew he could erase them both. Light and darkness could vanish, and the balance of the universe would collapse. But he didn't. Not out of mercy—but because the consequences would be too troublesome. Gordos, the creator of the multiverse, might not be pleased. After all, Gordos had created Aegle and Erebos with immense effort, blending fragments from the beginning and end of narrative just to maintain balance.
As he enjoyed the spectacle, someone suddenly appeared beside him.
There was no sound of teleportation, no dimensional fluctuation, no warning from reality. The figure simply appeared—like a thought suddenly arising in a daydream.
He had ten wings spread magnificently from his back, each glowing faintly like dying stars. His eyes were covered by the concept itself—not cloth, not energy, but an abstract idea that masked his vision.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" the man said, his voice gentle, carrying a breeze of destruction in every word.
Exafanos nodded. He saw no need to reply with words. After all, this man already knew the answer before asking.
"I am Ares," he continued. "Entity of destruction. You must have known."
"Mere human," Exafanos replied flatly.
Ares chuckled. A soft chuckle—but one that shook the high entities hiding in the veils. Those who heard it trembled, for within that laugh lay the potential for devastation far greater than the clash between Aegle and Erebos.
"I know you're not an ordinary being. I can feel everything in this multiverse—from divine wills to leftover intent from failed narratives—but I can't sense your depth. You're something I can't destroy—not because I lack the strength, but because you exist beyond it all."
Exafanos said nothing. He knew Ares wasn't testing power—but trying to understand existence.
"Who do you think will win?" Ares asked, pointing toward the clash of light and darkness.
"Neither," Exafanos replied. "Neither can win or lose. They are balance. Aegle seems overwhelmed, but that's just part of the pattern. There is no winner, no loser—only an endless cycle."
Ares nodded slowly. He seemed to agree.
"They won't die even if the universe ends, right?" he asked again.
"They won't," said Exafanos. "Because they're not mere beings. They are pillars. If one disappears, the other vanishes too. They are bound to each other. And as long as they fight, balance remains."
The two fell silent. Watching the grand battle in silence, like two gods admiring a theatrical play with utmost attention.
Time passed. Or perhaps it didn't. In that dimension, time held no real meaning.
Exafanos's cake was gone. His tea had gone cold. Yet the battle raged on—more violently than ever. Black holes emerged, white holes countered them. The surrounding reality began to tear.
And yet, neither of the two entities relented.
And Exafanos? He remained. Sitting calmly beside Ares. Two entities of destruction, not disturbing each other—merely watching. And perhaps... trying to understand something they didn't fully grasp just yet.
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To Be Continued