The infinite void of the Primordial Plane pulsed beneath Lucien's feet as he hovered above the black expanse of his Citadel. Light—strange, shifting, almost like liquid starlight—rippled across the void around him. His cloak trailed behind him like a shadow woven from the night itself.
He turned his gaze upward, beyond the layers of the metaphysical, beyond even the highest branches of Ydris, the World Tree. There, among the newly sprouted void-branches, shimmered the multiverse of Aetherys—a lattice of universes, galaxies, planets, and stars, all humming with potential, all threaded into existence by his will.
Lucien's eyes softened for a moment. It was one thing to know that creation obeyed him; it was another to see it alive.
"So… it's all working as it should," he murmured.
He extended his senses and called to the first being born from Aetherys' laws: Kaelaris Nyr'then. A light glimmered at the edge of the void—a figure formed of starlight and law, his voice the resonance of universes themselves.
"Father…"
Lucien's lips quirked upward in a rare smile. The term felt natural, earned. Kaelaris, despite his incomprehensible power, was the first consciousness to emerge from the laws of the multiverse Lucien had seeded.
"Kaelaris. How fares the multiverse of Aetherys?" Lucien's tone was calm, but every word carried infinite weight.
"Stable, for now," Kaelaris replied. His voice rolled like distant supernovae, vibrating through the void. "The branches you've grown are maintaining flow, each universe balanced against the others. But there are pockets of instability—small, but persistent. One universe draws more attention than the others."
Lucien's attention sharpened. "Which one?"
"Earth-10," Kaelaris said, and his tone carried subtle reverence. "Your… creation on the branch of Apocalypse Black. A remarkable convergence of laws. Life there develops unusually fast. The beings show potential beyond standard cosmic progression. I sense one individual in particular…"
Lucien's lips curved into a subtle grin. Kairis Ash.
"Interesting," he muttered. "Show me."
With a blink, Lucien's perception expanded. He saw Earth-10 spinning silently, its continents, oceans, and skies illuminated by his awareness. And there he was: a boy, young but radiating power beyond his years. Lucien's eyes narrowed, lips curling with amusement.
"Huh… he's got spark. That one'll be fun."
He reached into the void, pulling fragments of creation around him like clay. With a whisper, a new realm crystallized—a pocket dimension, a dungeon-like construct, layered with infinite corridors, arenas, and gates.
But Lucien wasn't done.
"If I'm going to test him… I'll make it interesting."
Lucien's mind worked faster than light, the void bending, condensing, and folding into precise structures. In his mental canvas, he copied his commanders, each retaining 20% of their true power:
Malthior, the first commander and final boss, stoic and ruthless. Seraphyx, the second commander, elegant yet lethal. Veloria, second in command in his absence, cunning and adaptive. Kaelthar, the relentless tactician. Alyth, the storm-wielder. Thariel, the silent shadow. Veythar (weaker copy), the black dragon, guardian of Ydris, scaled down but still formidable.
The guardians would patrol the outer layers of the dungeon, with Veythar stationed at the gate—an ever-watchful sentinel.
Lucien's mind then created keys—pocket-sized shards of the void that would grant entry.
"Kairis will get one," he muttered to himself. "Level 20. Only then."
He imagined the boy holding it, the sense of achievement and challenge. It pleased him—the smallest moments, even when overseeing existence itself.
The dungeon wasn't linear. It was multi-layered: arenas stacked in impossible geometries, traps based on the manipulation of gravity, void, and time. The corridors were alive with a faint whisper of Lucien's presence—enough to unsettle, but not so much as to reveal the true scope of the challenge.
Each boss had a personality reflected in the dungeon:
Veythar's gate hissed with ancient power.
Thariel's corridors faded in and out of visibility, forcing the intruder to anticipate his movements.
Seraphyx's arena shimmered with illusions and reflections.
Veloria combined traps and guardians in cunning patterns, teaching adaptability.
Malthior, the final chamber, was stark. One vast expanse. Nothing but shadows and his presence. The final test of strategy, endurance, and willpower.
"Let's see if he's ready for a taste of what comes next," Lucien murmured, voice echoing across the Primordial Void.
Lucien forged a key of black and gold voidlight, embedding in it the essence of his dungeon's challenge. He imagined Kairis holding it, the glow reflecting in his eyes.
"When you reach Level 20, boy… open this. Your journey begins there. But know… even the weakest echo of my commanders will push you to your limits. And Malthior… the final trial… will be a reckoning in its own right."
The key shimmered, then detached from Lucien's hand, drifting into the streams of the void, where he knew it would reach Kairis at the appropriate time.
He exhaled, stepping back. His eyes wandered over the branch of the World Tree that birthed Earth-10, the multiverse of Aetherys, and the infinite dungeon he had forged.
"Let's see what you can do… boy."
Lucien's eyes lingered on the multiverse for a moment longer. Each universe hummed, alive, waiting for its turn under his gaze. The laws he planted there were stable yet dynamic, responding to the life growing within.
"The God of Void, the Creator… overseeing creation, chaos, and challenge all at once," he mused. "Perfect. Everything is perfect."
He looked back at the Primordial Void, at the Citadel below, the guardians and commanders aligned, ready.
"Even a single boy is worth crafting a universe for," he said, almost to himself.
Then, as a ripple in the void signaled Kaelaris's presence, Lucien smirked faintly.
"Ah… Kaelaris, you'll want to see this. The first of the new champions… in the world of Apocalypse Black."
The multiverse shimmered around him, infinite and alive. And in the distance, Earth-10 spun silently, unaware that its destiny—and that of one boy—was now bound to the God of Void.