Kyuroto Mitsuyo stood alone atop the floating spire of Neo-Tokyo-3, the wind bending around him like obedient threads.
The city below shimmered in neon, forests glowed with bioluminescent life, and the clouds rippled under the weight of unseen energy. Yet Kyuroto's eyes — calm, piercing, and impossibly bright — were fixed on a point beyond reality.
A presence had arrived.
Not just any presence. This was something older than galaxies, quieter than silence, heavier than infinity itself.
> True Omnipotence.
It manifested first as a ripple across the multiverse — a vibration felt, not seen. Kyuroto could sense the energy threading through infinite possible realities, bending probabilities, fractals of universes aligning and misaligning with its will.
> Transcendence.
The being was outside existence and non-existence. Every attempt by civilizations, gods, or outerversal entities to define it failed. Even Kyuroto, who walked the threads between all realities, felt the faintest tremor of uncertainty.
> Beyond Transcendence.
It was a state where "inside" and "outside" no longer existed — where all laws, all frameworks, all logic were meaningless. A thought formed and was already erased; a star ignited and vanished before it could be named.
Kyuroto's eyes narrowed. Calm. Always calm.
> "So… the game begins," he whispered, voice barely carrying over the winds.
A figure slowly emerged, shimmering like fractal light collapsing in on itself. Its form shifted — humanoid, then monstrous, then something that defied pattern. Every glance, every heartbeat, every glance of thought was a trap, a thread, a reality folding in upon itself.
Kyuroto's aura flared faintly — 0.01% of his 1,000,000% true power, carefully restrained. Even at that fraction, the energy warped space around him: gravity bent, time flickered, dimensions trembled.
The new enemy's voice — or something like a voice — echoed simultaneously everywhere and nowhere:
> "Kyuroto Mitsuyo… architect of shadows. I have watched you weave destinies across infinite threads. Now… you will see the end of the games you think you control."
Kyuroto's lips curved into a small, cold smile.
> "End? No… you misunderstand. I am the game."
The enemy rippled, destabilizing the spire beneath him. Reality flickered — one moment he stood on stone, the next, on a mirror of endless skies. Every law of physics, probability, and causality warped around the visitor's presence.
Yet Kyuroto remained still. Calm. Precise.
He had faced the impossible before — and yet, something about this being was… different.
> "I cannot see you. I cannot touch you. I cannot even define you," he murmured softly. "But I can feel the threads you pull. And I will unravel them… quietly, beautifully, inevitably."
The enemy laughed — or perhaps it was a collision of universes, a soundless vibration, a cosmic sigh.
> "You will not touch me, child. You cannot even begin to grasp what lies beyond… beyond me."
Kyuroto tilted his head, eyes reflecting infinite possibilities.
> "Perhaps. But I will walk beyond your beyond. And when the threads finally settle… you will understand why I am called the Whisper of Infinity."
A pulse radiated outward. The spire cracked. The city below shimmered in response. Every creature, every consciousness, every timeline across the multiverse felt it — a subtle shift, a whisper that something far older and infinitely vast had arrived.
Kyuroto stood alone, calm as ever. The petals of a thousand cherry trees swirled around him, responding to his controlled aura.
And somewhere, beyond space, beyond time, beyond even thought, the enemy waited.
> A battle that would shake not just worlds, but all of existence… had begun.
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