Ash fell through layers of broken timelines, his body battered and glowing with primal energy. Around him, flashes of his countless lives blinked — moments as a child, a warrior, a father, a god. Each fragment spiraled in a storm of memory as the force of his battle with Yaatra unraveled the Thread of Reality itself.
But even in this storm, Ash did not scream.
He remembered.
Yaatra descended slowly, his form fractured but still radiating authority. One half of his face was crumbling, revealing the infinite void beneath. Yet his voice remained clear.
> "You are unraveling, Ash. This universe can't contain the fire inside you."
Ash stood, fists clenched. Blood dripped from his mouth, but his gaze never faltered. "Then I'll make a new one."
Around him, the goddesses had fallen back to defend creation's last bastion — the Anchor Tree, an ancient structure rooted in the very soul of the multiverse. A single blast from the Council of Extinction would tear it apart, ending the universe in a breath.
Sarina, glowing with divine power, stood atop the highest root, her bow drawn. Her voice echoed across realms:
"We will protect the heart! Ash — finish it!"
Yaatra extended his arm, conjuring the Scepter of Absence, a weapon so old that even time forgot its name. It pulsed with pure entropy.
Ash summoned something far more ancient.
From within his chest, he pulled out a golden shard — the Heart of the Creator.
Ravanaari gasped from afar. "That's… the seed he gave us… when the universe began."
Ash held the shard above his head. "This is my memory… my love… my pain… my everything."
He crushed it.
A shockwave burst across dimensions. Planets paused. Even the other Old Ones reeled.
Ash was no longer just divine.
He was foundational.
His skin cracked with light. His voice became the song of stars. His form towered, not in size, but in presence.
He became the Flame of Genesis — the will that first ignited all things.
Yaatra's calm broke. For the first time, the Old One of Thought stepped backward.
> "This isn't possible. You're not complete… you're still—"
Ash's fist silenced him.
The blow didn't just strike flesh.
It struck the lie that the Old Ones were eternal.
It struck the fear that they hid.
It struck the truth — that creation was stronger than silence.
Yaatra shattered into cosmic dust, scattering across the threads of fate.
Ash floated down to the Anchor Tree, breathing hard.
His friends gathered. The void was still.
The war had ended… for now.
But Shiv looked up, eyes wide. "Ash… the other Old Ones… they're not dead."
Ash nodded slowly. "They've fled… beyond the walls of this reality. Into the true void."
Monish asked, "What's beyond that?"
Ash closed his eyes.
"…The place even I was born from. The Origin Zone. The source of all supreme beings."
Everyone was silent.
Ash opened his glowing eyes.
"Next… we're going home."
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