Fareed never believed in signs.
Not omens, not fate, not divine whispers hiding behind tragedies. He believed in patterns. In logic. In cause and effect. So when the world broke, it wasn't thunder or screams that warned him it was silence.
He had just come home from college, tossing his bag onto the couch, when it began.
At first, it was subtle: the air stilling, like someone had sucked the wind out of the atmosphere. The TV flickered with static. The floor vibrated beneath his feet. He looked outside, expecting rain.
But there were no clouds.
Only cracks jagged, glowing fissures tearing across the sky like shattered glass suspended in motion.
"What the hell…?" he whispered, stepping back from the window.
That's when the screams started.
His phone buzzed violently. A flood of notifications and emergency broadcasts screamed in every direction: "STAY INDOORS." "UNKNOWN PHENOMENON." "THIS IS NOT A DRILL."
He rushed to his parents' room.
"Mom! Dad!" he shouted.
They came rushing out, panic already in their eyes.
"Fareed! We have to get to the basement something's happening"
But it was already too late.
The walls around them groaned, then ripped open not like they were breaking, but being erased. The floor beneath his mother's feet blinked out of existence, and she fell into nothing.
"NO!" Fareed lunged forward.
But his father grabbed him and shoved him backward. "Run!" he screamed, as the house dissolved into fragmented light.
The last thing Fareed saw of his father was his hand reaching out and then gone.
Then the world turned white.
---
He stood in nothing.
A void. No light, no ground. No sound, no body. It was as if the very idea of Fareed had been disassembled. But something… held him together. Something cold. Mechanical.
A voice, flat and emotionless, echoed through the void.
> "System initialized."
> "Target selected: Fareed. Sole survivor of Origin Thread 000."
> "Transferring to preservation space…"
Suddenly, shape returned. A platform of light formed beneath his feet. Gravity came back. Breath. Sound. His knees hit the ground as he coughed violently, gasping like a newborn pulled from drowning.
He screamed.
"WHAT IS THIS?! WHAT DID YOU DO TO THEM?!"
The voice returned, steady.
> "Query: Unknown. You do not meet the criteria for that information to be revealed."
His fists trembled. His nails dug into his palms. "They're dead… everyone… my mother, my father my world is GONE!"
> "Affirmative."
> "Origin Thread 000 collapsed."
> "Survivor count: 1."
Fareed's body shook with grief and fury.
"Why me?! Why am I alive?!"
> "You have been chosen."
> "Purpose: Collect 30 Mythic Fragments from 30 parallel universes."
> "Once united, the fragments will forge the Mythic Crystal the Core of All Realities."
> "With it, you may create or erase any world."
> "You may reverse your loss."
He blinked. That last line... hope—or a cruel imitation of it.
"Then I'll do it," Fareed said through gritted teeth. "I'll bring them back. I'll undo this hell."
> "Understood."
> "Be warned: each universe will collapse upon fragment extraction."
Fareed's breath hitched. "What?"
> "Each fragment sustains its world. Once removed, collapse is inevitable."
> "You will become reborn in the next universe upon collection."
> "You will live. You will master. You will lose."
He stared into the endless dark.
So that was the cost. Thirty worlds… thirty existences… would die. Just like his own.
"I'll be called a monster," he whispered. "A destroyer."
> "Affirmative."
> "And perhaps… a savior."
Fareed closed his eyes.
If this was the only way if the only path back to the people he loved meant sacrificing everything else then so be it. He would carry the burden. Alone.
> "First world initializing: MURIM THREAD 01."
> "Beginning soul rebirth in 3… 2… 1…"
Light swallowed him whole.