Eternal emptiness, the stars stretched wide, and the gate sealed itself between the mortal and the divine. Here lies "Atralas," a place veiled by an abstract, self-aware gate—manifesting as the "Guardian" within my authority: Aqunotya.
I—The Cosmic Balance—am the oldest entity, bound by no fixed form.
I take the shape of a star—the kind children often draw on paper. Why? Because it's fascinating, born of pure innocence, from the hands of little ones who have no idea how complex the world they inhabit truly is.
My consciousness observes every motion of my Cosmic Servants through my authority, "Omnipresent." Their existence is my existence as well.
Each Cosmic Servant is unique—some evolve too slowly, others too fast.
But none are quite like... him.
Varro Lazas—or by his new name, Nova Arlen.
Among the countless Abstract Circles of the Universe, only the one he inhabits has never been confirmed to exist at all. No signs, no destiny recorded. As though this Circle itself was unwanted—an anomaly. Even my "siblings" remain unaware of it.
In this multiverse, which centers on "Varro Lazas" if male and "Verra Lazas" if female, this "Nova" is an abnormal variant.
Had Cosmic Servant Ressmond not reported it, I would never have known he existed.
But honestly, Ressmond is a fool. How could he abandon his own Abstract Circle of the Universe at will? He ventured out through a Cosmic Rift, and the consequence was annihilation. The "looping" that sustained the stability of his Circle collapsed, and The Devourers consumed what remained.
He should never have passed down his power or life. Nova could have become a Cosmic Servant by my invitation once Ressmond revealed his existence as an Origin—then I could have restored Ressmond to his rightful home.
But no matter what I told him, he remained stubborn.
"Perhaps this is an intuition beyond the gods themselves," he said. "I feel that this Varro is a special Origin among all the Lazas in the multiverse!"
Those words nearly made me erase him from existence.
Forget it.
Humans are incomprehensible creatures.
Nova...
That name reminds me of her.
Perhaps it's just coincidence.
•••
[PoV: Varro Lazas]
[Old City, Delivan]
The morning was a white canvas brushed gently by sunlight. The air carried the scent of toasted bread and the faint dust of old books sold in the shop across the street. The sky was a pale blue, and sunlight filtered through the window of Caffe Haven, scattering golden reflections across the wooden table where I sat.
My cup of coffee released a thin wisp of steam, swirling lazily in the air. I stirred it with a small spoon, listening to the faint clink of metal. On the television screen, the morning news reported another explosion in Rham City—yet again blamed on mutant groups accused of attacking government facilities.
I watched the screen for a while, then lowered my gaze to the coffee in my hand.
"They did it again," I murmured inwardly. "Should I intervene?"
I took a slow sip. The bitterness slid across my tongue, spreading warmth through my chest—a kind of bitterness that told no lies.
When I set the cup down, my eyes caught a small black ant walking across the tabletop, tracing the grain of the wood as though following a secret map known only to itself.
I watched it quietly, then absentmindedly placed a crumb of bread nearby.
"Eat, little one," I whispered.
And then something strange happened.
"Thank you for the food, kind sir."
A small, soft voice echoed inside my head. My whole body froze. My eyes swept across the café. No one was speaking to me. Only Mira was cleaning tables at the far end of the room, and a few customers were fixated on the news broadcast.
I looked back down at the table.
My heart pounded fast.
"This can't be..."
"Rubik," I called in my mind.
"Yeah, what's up?" came the familiar monotone voice from within my dimensional pocket.
"Can a Cosmic Servant talk to other living beings? Like... an ant?"
"Of course," it replied, as if that were the most normal thing in the world. "One of the basic abilities of a Cosmic Servant is 'Telepathy Language.' You can communicate with any living being through the resonance of mental energy."
I paused. "And how do I do that?"
"You simply channel a bit of energy into your center of awareness. Your thoughts will adjust to their frequency."
I took a deep breath. "Alright."
Closing my eyes for a moment, I focused the flow of energy through my thoughts. It felt like awakening an antenna that had long been dormant. When I opened my eyes, the world around me felt... alive. I could sense the faint rhythm of life—the footsteps of ants, Mira's breathing, the ticking of the clock on the wall.
I looked at the ant.
Can you hear me?
The ant froze, its antennae raised. "Are you... speaking to me?"
Yes. I can hear your thoughts.
Its tiny body quivered. "That's amazing! No big creature has ever spoken to us before!"
I smiled faintly. Do you have a name, little one?
"A name? Hmm, we don't really have those. But if you wish to call me something... call me Aki."
Aki. Simple, yet it resonated in some strange way.
Alright, Aki. A fine name.
Aki climbed atop the crumb I had given. "You seem very calm. Are you not human?"
A soft laugh escaped me. That's a good question. I'm human, but... part of me isn't.
"Part of you?" asked Aki. "So you have two souls?"
I don't know, I replied. Sometimes it feels like there's only one left—split in two directions.
"Then you're like us. We don't know who we really are either. We just... live."
That word—live—fell gently into my mind, yet stirred something deep within. Such honesty, from such a small creature. For it, living was simply the continuation of existence, not some grand purpose or sacred pursuit.
I gazed out the café window. Sunlight painted my face. Outside, Old City moved as always—children running, vendors shouting, a dog barking in the distance. Everything seemed peaceful. But beneath that calm, I knew the world was cracking.
Aki, how about joining me on a long journey? To seek something greater than mere survival.
Aki paused. "What do you mean?"
You see... the world isn't as simple as it looks. There are wonders out there, but also horrors. If you wish, I'd like you to see them with me.
The ant went quiet for a moment, then said firmly, "I will."
I raised an eyebrow. You're sure?
"Yes. My life is short. We die young. Because we're small, we're often unseen. Sometimes, we don't die from being killed—we die from being ignored. If I can spend what little time I have seeing the world beside someone like you... that's enough."
I looked at it for a long time. You're alone, Aki?
"Yes. Four months now. My colony disappeared when this café was cleaned. No other insects survived."
Four months... I echoed softly. Then from now on, you're not alone. We're friends.
"Friends?" Aki repeated. "I've never had one. But the word sounds beautiful."
"Beautiful, yes..." I murmured. "It comes from a warmth that can't be explained. Like life itself."
•••
Caffe Haven grew busier. People arrived, bringing the scent of cheap perfume and whispers about the chaos in Rham City. I remained in my seat, while Aki hid beside the bread plate.
Rubik's voice echoed again. "You seem to be conversing with a tiny creature."
"He has a name. Aki."
"And?"
"And he's my friend now."
"Friend? An ant?"
I sipped my coffee and gave Rubik a flat stare. "You sound skeptical—for something that's literally a talking cube."
Rubik was silent for a moment. "Touché."
The atmosphere shifted when the television flashed breaking news:
"Mutant group believed to be targeting multiple cities across Delivan State. Authorities urge citizens to stay alert."
I straightened up. The screen showed the symbol of a mysterious organization—three curved lines forming a spiral.
I knew that emblem.
"Aural Syndicate..." I whispered.
Unexpected. They weren't just some criminal ring in the "Blood Circle" sector—they were a radical mutant faction.
Now I was certain. They opposed both the Federation and The Umbra—believing that evolution belonged only to those strong enough to destroy the old order.
.....