Far beyond the grasp of ordinary space, time, or physical existence, in a realm where even gods dared not tread lightly, stood a palace unlike any other palace. It was known as the seat of the Chaos King. Suspended at the Pinnacle of the Tenth Dimension, called the Chaos Realm, it was a plane where reality bent, where thought and will reshaped the laws of nature, and where the very idea of permanence was fluid.
The palace was a living entity, growing, adapting, and breathing in harmony with the king that ruled it. Its vast halls were carved not of stone or steel, but of concepts, dreams solidified into crystalline forms that glimmered with ethereal light. Walls flowed like liquid galaxies, shifting seamlessly from ancient runes to celestial patterns that pulsed with life. Every step echoed through realms, not with sound, but with ripples across matter and thought.
The skies above were endless canvases of stars caught in perpetual dance, while below, the ground reflected both heaven and earth in their prime, a union of beauty beyond human imagination. Lush gardens bloomed with impossible flora, and rivers of stardust wove between marble bridges etched with sacred glyphs.
At the center of this dimensional marvel, seated upon a throne made of pure consciousness and divine order, was Kaouspeur, the Chaos King.
He sat with calm authority, one leg crossed over the other, his posture relaxed yet absolute. His skin was a serene blue, like twilight before the stars awaken. Long, transparent silver hair shimmered down his shoulders, refracting all the colors of the spectrum. His eyes were a storm of rainbow light, calm oceans hiding infinite depth. Draped over his form was a robe of celestial radiance, woven from threads of rainbow and void, flowing like water and light, both real and unreal.
Resting beside him, suspended in a pocket dimension, was his sword, an unseen but undeniably present force. It was the kind of weapon not made, but willed into existence by truth itself.
Around him, space bent in reverence. Time flowed simultaneously with space. All and nothing existed here, in this unknown realm beyond the metaphysical laws of existence.
He was the still point in the center of infinity, the child of all that ever was, is, and will be.
Kaouspeur was seen looking idly at the other dimensions below, watching them as if they were fiction and stories to be written or rewritten by his will and thoughts.
"You seem bored, Kaous," a familiar voice emerged as a group of people appeared before his presence.
"Ah, if it isn't Kairos. What brings you and… oh, interesting, you brought them here," he said, speaking to Kairos.
"I'm sorry about what happened between you and Aurelia. We felt we should pay our respects," Kairos said, bowing respectfully to Kaous.
"Raise your head, Kairos, the scribe of Meta Tron Kaous said as he appeared before him. "Father, I am sorry for all the trouble my birth must have cost you all," he said, patting his hands on Kairos and lifting his face. "And thank you all for coming to visit me in this saddening time, but it's not really necessary, as I can still meet her if I want to… somewhere in time."
Kairos stepped forward, the folds of his golden robe glimmering like woven sunlight. His figure, though youthful, held the ageless wisdom of millennia. His skin was pale and untouched by time, his eyes a piercing blue that carried the stillness of stars. A translucent aura pulsed softly around him, golden light laced with threads of white, as though time itself clothed him. Strapped across his back was a leather sachet worn by purpose, from which extended a sacred quill made from the feather of Metatron, the divine recorder of all events.
Behind Kairos stood two others, each radiating their own divine signature.
Auxo, the Mother of Spirits and Life, stood tall and composed. Her form was wrapped in living garments spun from nature itself, vines, petals, and flowing waters woven into an ever-shifting attire. Her presence was gentle but firm, the nurturing essence of Gaia and the ethereal mystery of the spirit world woven into one.
Beside her, Kaito of the mortal realm stood as a contrast, regal, bold, and unshakably calm. His full-body armor glistened in silver and white, etched with sacred patterns that spoke of trials, wars, and noble victories. A crimson cape billowed behind him as if stirred by unseen winds, marking him as the hero of the mortal realm.
Dark hair framed his sharp face, falling slightly over his red eyes, eyes that burned with purpose yet held restraint. Though his sword rested silently at his side, the power within it hummed like a sleeping god. Kaito was not a mere warrior; he was a symbol, a paragon of justice, a force both feared and revered across worlds.
Before Kaouspeur, these three beings, scribe, spirit, and sword, stood not as mortals but as echoes of different truths, different realms. And yet Kaous, the Chaos King beyond time, welcomed them not as subjects but as kin.
"But you know that inevitability and fate are constant. No matter what you do, you can't actually bring her back," Nyx said, emerging from the darkness behind the three of them. She was the primordial goddess of the night, her aura dark and intimidating, yet she was graceful and beautiful in her gracefulness.

"Nyx, you're here too. To what do I owe the pleasure of meeting you all? You're not supposed to leave your heavens and come up here?" Kaouspeur said, feigning ignorance as his gaze drifted across the gathering before him.
"You know very well why we are here, and we came not to waste any time with you," Auxo said firmly, looking up at Kaouspeur with a calm yet unyielding stare.
"My son, we've come to end your rule over all of the ten dimensions. Humans should be given free will," Kairos began, his voice solemn and filled with the weight of divine purpose.
"Hmmm, why do you want to do so?" Kaouspeur asked, his tone soft but trembling with emotion. "I've served and ruled each and every dimension, even lived among you. I lost my family on multiple occasions, yet I still ruled within all of you. So why?" His voice cracked slightly, his expression filled with pure hurt. "Was my leadership not enough for you?"
"Don't you value the humans and people that live on Earth?" Kairos asked, his tone sharpened by conviction.
"What do you mean?" Kaouspeur asked, confused, his glowing eyes narrowing slightly.
"Every time you get reincarnated as anybody or anything, or you clone yourself, or you exist in any world, there's always chaos and catastrophe there. Your existence itself is what makes there be no order in the universe," Kaito responded firmly, stepping forward.
"So I should die?" Kaouspeur said quietly as he rose from his throne and began to walk toward Kaito. The ground beneath him shimmered with energy at each step. "Kaito, we've been friends for a very long while. When I was human, you fought by my side and defended my throne against the demon king. When I united the demon race and led them, the humans opposed me for turning back on humanity, when all I wanted was absolute peace and to unite all races."
His voice deepened, sorrow and rage intertwining. "I lost my beloved. She and my daughter were killed by humans, and the very demons and races I once united turned against my family and killed them. And now you come up here and tell me I don't value human life by just existing? Am I the one at fault?"
As his words echoed through the palace, Kaouspeur's hair began to shimmer bright red, each strand flickering like burning threads of divine fire. His aura grew heavier, more turbulent, as the immense pain of countless ages bled through his words.
"The thing is that the universe has been in chaos since your brothers left," Kairos said quietly, the truth hanging in the air like a blade between gods and mortals.