The void was silent.
Not the peaceful silence of a calm night, but a dreadful, suffocating silence—a place where even thoughts were eaten alive.
Zayn floated in the dark, a realm beyond stars, beyond time. He didn't know how he got here. One moment, he had been meditating within the Eternal Flame Temple, trying to understand the strange runes that had begun glowing across his chest… and the next, he was here.
Alone.No stars.No sky.No light.
Only darkness that seemed to breathe.
"Where… am I?" he whispered.
No echo. No sound.
Then, something moved.
It wasn't a form. It was the absence of form—a presence so ancient, so alien, that it couldn't be described. A swirl of void. A crack in the concept of existence itself.
His breath caught in his throat. His heart pounded so hard that it hurt.
Then came the voice.
No sound. Just meaning forced into his mind.
You wear the Flame of the Ones who caged Me.
Zayn froze. It wasn't a question. It was an accusation.
And it didn't come from outside. It came from within—as if something had reached through the deepest part of his soul and squeezed.
You carry the burden of the Final Star. You must burn, child.
"I don't even know what you are," Zayn said. His voice shook, but he kept his stance.
Silence.
Then… thousands of eyes opened around him. Not physical ones—just the feeling of being watched, judged, and hated by entities that had forgotten what compassion even was.
They called me The Nameless One. But I had a name once. I gave it up to escape the Order of Reality.
Zayn shivered.
His cultivation couldn't protect him here. His Dao didn't respond. His Divine Core was still, afraid.
It was then he realized—this wasn't a dream or illusion. This was a part of the true Void.
And he was standing before its father.
A Deeper Dive: What Is The Nameless One?
In the ancient tongue of the Celestials, The Nameless One was referred to as "Anak'Tarath," which translates loosely as: That Which Devours the Beginning.
It was not born.It was not created.It awakened, somewhere outside of time, before the first light flickered in the cosmos.
It did not hunger for food. It hungered for concepts.
It fed on names, so no one could remember.
It devoured meanings, so things lost purpose.
It erased destiny, so fate no longer worked.
The Celestials, the oldest divine race, fought it not to win—but to buy time.
They sacrificed their future to lock it away at the edge of the 9th Cosmic Barrier, where light folds, and thought cannot reach.
But they failed to destroy it.
They never could.
Because The Nameless One was not a being.
It was a principle:
If creation exists, then un-creation must also exist.
And that was It.
Back in the dark realm, Zayn clenched his fists.
"I don't care what you are. You were sealed. You're still sealed. You can't do anything to me."
The void pulsed. Almost amused.
Yet here you stand… inside My Dream. Wearing My enemy's flame. How curious.
Suddenly, visions flooded Zayn's mind—
Planets shattering.
Immortal gods begging, their names being ripped from history.
Realms collapsing into blank pages.
And finally, a black sun rising over a thousand dying stars.
The Nameless One was not just waking.It was reaching.Through time.Through destiny.Through Zayn.
They chose poorly, child. You are not ready to carry their fire.
"No," Zayn whispered, blood dripping from his nose and ears. "I didn't ask for this power, but I won't back down."
A flame ignited in his chest—the Celestial Flame.
Bright. Pure. Defiant.
The shadows recoiled, shrieking in silence.
Zayn raised his hand, and the light spread. The black void around him twisted, fought back, but the flame was not from this realm. It was hope, forged in the final breath of dying gods.
"I may not be ready…" he said, eyes glowing, "but I'm the only one left."
The Nameless One's form shook—whether in rage or amusement, he couldn't tell.
You will burn, Sovereign Star. And when you do, I will feast upon your memory.
Then—silence.
The void shattered.
Zayn gasped and opened his eyes.
He was back in the Temple. Sweat drenched his robes. The stars outside the glass dome looked normal.
But he knew it wasn't a dream.
He looked down—and saw a black mark burned on his palm.
A single black dot that pulsed slowly, like a heartbeat.
And in his mind, something whispered once more:
One seal has cracked. Six remain.