Aeren's paintbrush does not dissolve into nothingness as all other creations do. He observes the paint he creates, and sweat forms on his forehead—a rare creation appearing in nothingness, evidence of effort, of intention, of something that refuses to be unmade.
Aeren looks at his painting in genuine awe. He creates happiness inside himself deliberately, and the emotion shines through his expression like starlight breaking through darkness. His art is mesmerizing—darkness and galaxies, light and void woven into a single cosmic form. It is beautiful. It is wrong. It is real.
Aeren gazes into his own painting, lost. He remains still in nothingness, smiling, sweating, fully absorbed in the beauty he has created—the first time in countless eons that he has felt something approaching joy. The painting stares back at him, unmoving yet alive. Nothingness does not dissolve Aeren's art. It accepts the creation as though the void itself chooses to allow the painting to exist, to persist, to be.
As Aeren observes his work, he receives a thought from within the painting itself.
The painting speaks: "Master, where am I? What is this place? And within me, that being—the one composed of galaxies—has not dissolved yet."
Aeren's painting—the spirit he created, which takes the form of a fox-dragon hybrid of stunning complexity—questions him about this realm and informs him that G1 still exists inside the painted cosmos, still present, still conscious, still becoming.
Swapn's eyes glow a brilliant blue—fox-like, ocean-deep, ancient and knowing—and the painting gazes directly at Aeren through the void.
Swapn can see Aeren in nothingness. Aeren notices the eyes, the gaze reflecting back at him like mirrors reflecting truth. He creates a new thought and sends it toward Swapn deliberately.
Aeren's reply arrives: "Swapn… it has been a long time. I last met you in another life, another world, another form. I know G1 has not dissolved yet. But he will. Eventually, everything dissolves. And this place—this is nothingness. You cannot create a lie here. Your creation is always truth—because nothingness itself is the lie. HAHAHA."
Aeren creates the laugh as pure meaning—a realization bursting into the void with such force that it echoes through the emptiness.
In that moment, he understands something he had not consciously realized while speaking with G1 earlier: no lie can exist in nothingness. He has created many lies throughout this conversation—attempts at deception, false statements, illusions meant to obscure truth—but none of them took form. They dissolved instantly, never becoming anything, never achieving existence.
That alone tells Aeren the deepest secret: Realityis a lie. That means nothingness itself is a lie.
The realization stabilizes within him before dissolving into the void like all creations, unable to sustain itself against the infinite nothing.
Aeren breaks down in this present moment as the true meaning of nothingness crashes down upon him. His Eyes of Emptiness open fully—not just seeing, but perceiving through time itself—his entire past, his entire present, his entire future all at once, all compressed into one eternal moment of perfect clarity.
His understanding slices through his own voidness with surgical precision. It cuts through every layer of void he has created, beyond the void, past every level of emptiness he has believed in and constructed. Everything he has done to reach this place looks like a joke to him now—a cosmic comedy performed for an audience of nothing.
He sees it clearly: He has been chasing nothing but a lie. And worse—he has always taken this lie and believed it as truth. He has built his entire existence on a foundation of falsehood and called it enlightenment.
Aeren's whole being trembles. All the layers of emptiness around him shiver with the cold he creates, as though the foundation of nothingness itself recognizes Aeren's shift, his breaking point, his transformation.
Aeren creates breath—slow, deep breath drawn from the void itself. He inhales. He exhales. The sound he creates echoes through nothingness like a thunderclap, demanding acknowledgment. Swapn freezes. The spirit painting cannot understand what is happening to Aeren.
A moment ago, Aeren was Aeren—the calm observer, the being of emptiness, the entity beyond emotion. Now, he becomes something Swapn cannot recognize. Swapn cannot tell whether Aeren is the void or the void is Aeren. The distinction has become meaningless.
Aeren creates a thought and speaks it directly, with such intensity that the void seems to listen:
"Do you know, Swapn? When I rejected everything in my human form—every illusion, every death, every escape, every delusion I clung to—I never felt this void like I feel it now. I have never experienced emptiness of this magnitude. Not after realizing I chased a lie my entire existence. And the most foolish thing is—I thought that lie was truth. I believed it. I devoted myself to it. I became it."
Swapn receives the created message. He reads it carefully. And Swapn shudders—even though he is nothing more than a painted shape created inside nothingness, a temporary creation waiting to dissolve. Aeren's meaning shakes him to his foundation.
Aeren voids himself completely. He lets his entire being slip deeper into pure voidness, surrendering to the emptiness, and in that state of complete dissolution, he observes Swapn. He notices that Swapn is afraid of him. He can see it clearly in his Eyes of Emptiness—fear radiating from the painting like heat from a star.
Aeren then calms his void deliberately. He accepts the lie as truth. His understanding settles into a new configuration: The illusion he lived as a human is not the same as this lie. The lie of nothingness is far more honest than any human illusion. Humans are too brainwashed to see through illusion—their entire lives are built on living lies they think are truths, on truths that are actually lies, on a foundation so twisted they can never escape it.
Aeren sees it now with perfect clarity:
Lie and truth are both illusions.Nothingness is the lie beneath all things.If nothingness is the lie, then the truth must exist between everything and nothing.
Aeren remains still inside this realization. The void accepts it. The void does not reject it. The void simply allows it to exist, to be, to be truth.
Then he creates a thought and commands Swapn:
"Swapn, I send you to a place where you can find more CosmoSpiens—beings like G1, vast cosmic entities imprisoned in their own universes. You only need to consume all of them. Absorb them into yourself. After that, you will be able to create your own moments—just like the Realm G1 is forming. You will evolve. You will become something new."
Swapn bows his painted, fox-like head with genuine reverence. He creates sincerity—a pure emotion that cannot exist as a lie in nothingness. He responds:
"Thank you, Master, for creating me again in reality. I will never disappoint you. I will become what you envision."
Swapn's form trembles with devotion. Aeren creates his presence—a moment-space where Swapn can exist—near the scattered CosmoSpiens so the painted being can begin consuming them and growing into his own Realm. The void around him calms. His understanding reshapes what he is.
Aeren looks at himself. He feels disgust rising through his voidness like poison through water. His own existence as pure void feels unpleasant to him now—a bland, empty state that no longer matches his new understanding of truth and lies. He cannot remain like this. He will not.
Aeren creates all colors of paintbrushes—countless shades, countless forms of creation floating around him like planets in an orbit of pure potential. Then he begins creating his body.
Human. Charming. Radiant. And with the same eyes he gives to his spirit painting, Swapn—deep blue eyes, fox-like, ocean-like, capable of seeing everything including lies dressed as truth.
Aeren paints himself with meticulous care. He paints his clothes too—cosmic in appearance, but without the crude display of galaxies. Only stars. Stars of every size, every color, every brightness—woven across blackness so deep it becomes a new reality unto itself. The clothes are not silk, not soft, not fabric made from ordinary matter—they are a creation made purely for stars, eternal stars, stars with consciousness woven inside them. Aeren creates this masterpiece, and nothingness—the bland void—allows it.
It does not dissolve his creation. It simply lets it happen, as though nothingness acknowledges his painting as consciousness itself, as something worthy of existence.
Aeren continues painting himself with the precision of a master artist. He creates earrings bright as starlight—they catch the non-existent light and shine anyway. He creates hairpins dark as collapsed void—they absorb light and meaning both. He paints his black hair with infinite texture. He paints his slim body with grace. He paints the brightness in his face, the subtle play of expression. He paints everything, down to the soles of his shoes.
And then he allows all the paint to dissolve into his voidness—to merge with him, to become one with his being.
The paint dissolves into nothingness—and then becomes Aeren. Aeren becomes the painting, and the painting becomes Aeren. His consciousness and his creation merge into a single unified being of paint, stars, void, and existence. He is no longer separate from his creation. He is the creation. He is the lie made beautiful, the truth painted into being.
This moment stands as his declaration: He accepts the lie as nothingness. And he accepts nothingness as the lie. He becomes both and neither. He becomes himself.
Aeren observes his new creation—his form painted into reality, his Eyes of Emptiness shining with their infinite, trapped vision that sees through all things. He looks at his beauty and smiles. This smile is a creation of acceptance—acceptance of the new lie of reality he has painted, and acceptance of his own lie as a form of truth he can live with.
Relief moves through his voidness. Aeren gazes into his painting again, seeing himself reflected back—a lie he has chosen to keep, a lie he has shaped beautifully, a lie that might be more true than truth itself.
Aeren creates a thought and realizes:
"This is how truth and lies look. Too real. Too convincing. Yet inside, they are lies. This whole painting of myself, and even nothingness—they look real because everything is a lie. There is no truth. Only varying degrees of beautiful deception."
Aeren continues observing, his thought unfolding deeper:
"Then what is left for people to hope for? Another lie? Or death and reincarnation into another lie? What refuge exists from this?"
He breathes the next realization into existence:
"Nothingness is a lie because only lies do not dissolve. They spread. They remain. They grow. Truth always dissolves inside the spread of lies. Truth is weak. Lies are eternal."
Aeren watches how his creations dissolve and understands on a fundamental level:
"The evidence is clear—everything dissolves in nothingness. But the most dangerous thing is that nothingness itself dissolves into the lie that it searches for truth. It is trapped by its own search."
He looks deeper into the void and speaks with authority:
"That is why nothingness allows creation only in the absolute form. Because creation is the only thing nothingness can see as truth. Or maybe everything is a lie to nothingness. And that is why all things dissolve in it. The void destroys truth but preserves beautiful lies."
Aeren stands in stillness—a painted being, a self-created lie, glowing with cosmic beauty inside an endless void that dissolves all things except lies strong enough to become truth themselves.
Then he starts walking into nothingness. As he moves, he notices a new creation emerging in the distant void—something vast, something that calls to him. He walks toward it deliberately.
His present self walks forward, while his past self remains still behind him and dissolves into nothingness. But an afterimage stays—a trace of paint, a painted echo of Aeren, showing exactly who he was one moment ago, before the next step, before the next moment.
Nothingness does not dissolve the afterimage immediately. It is as though nothingness chooses to reveal the past Aeren behind him, the future Aeren ahead of him, and the present Aeren walking now—all three existing simultaneously in different moments.
Each step he creates dissolves in two ways:
One step becomes past.One step becomes future.
And both dissolve in nothingness the instant their meaning completes, returning to nothing.
Aeren walks like this—a trail of dissolving pasts behind him, a line of forming futures ahead of him, his present form moving between them in the eternal now.
Even though Aeren could easily create a moment to appear instantly at the place where the new creation exists—could collapse space and time through deliberate creation—he chooses to walk. He watches the afterimages of himself. Each afterimage is his present reflected in the moment just gone, a record of his journey, proof that he is moving forward.
Aeren sees the truth unfold with his Eyes of Emptiness:
Nothingness creates the present.
To walk, he creates his moments—past, present, future, next step, next breath.
And then he realizes the deepest truth:
Nothingness creates all the "presents" of time.
From each present, the past is born and dissolves into memory.
From each present, the future forms and dissolves into possibility.
Every step he makes is created by him—but every present he stands in belongs to nothingness.
He is walking toward something. Or perhaps nothingness is walking toward him. In this place, the distinction no longer matters. The void opens before him, and Aeren steps into it—painted, false, beautiful, and true all at once.