Chapter 64 — "The Era of Infinite Realms"
Light returned but it was not the same.
The universe that emerged was not a single realm, nor a collection of them. It was a living infinity, breathing and expanding with Erevan's will.
He stood upon the Throne of Rewrite, suspended in a sky that had no horizon half gold, half void, swirling together like a storm of dreams and reality. His armor shimmered with moving glyphs, divine codes rewriting themselves endlessly across his form.
His voice echoed through the newborn multiverse:
> "Let there be no more destiny. No fate. No limits."
And so, it was written and unwritten.
Each realm that bloomed from his command became a story of its own.
Some were worlds of eternal light; others thrived in shadow and chaos.
Some defied gravity, some defied death.
Every possibility became real.
---
In one realm, mortals ascended by sheer will their emotions shaping stars.
In another, forgotten gods awakened, only to realize they were characters in Erevan's new play.
And in the center of all the Eternal Hall, where the rewritten souls gathered before the throne of the one who freed them from their fate.
When Erevan appeared there, reality trembled in reverence. Countless beings gods, demons, mortals, concepts knelt before him.
> "My lord," said a cosmic messenger made of starlight, "your will reshapes the infinite. What is your next decree?"
Erevan's eyes flared a reflection of every realm.
> "There will be no decrees. Only freedom. Every being will hold a fragment of the Rewrite the power to change their story."
The hall went silent. Even infinity paused, unsure how to comprehend such freedom.
The messenger whispered, trembling:
> "Then… even we could challenge you?"
Erevan smiled not cruelly, but knowingly.
> "That is the point."
---
But beyond the vast new cosmos, something began to stir again not an enemy, not a being… but a question.
When everything can be rewritten…
When all things are free…
What remains true?
Erevan felt it a subtle imbalance forming at the edges of the infinite. Realities began to clash, rewritten wills conflicting, merging, fracturing. The gift of freedom was also a seed of chaos.
He rose from his throne, his aura flaring with quiet power.
> "Even infinite stories need harmony," he said.
"Then let this be my next creation balance."
He lifted the Quill once more. From it flowed twelve fragments of himself, sent across existence each one embodying a different aspect of his power: Time, Void, Dream, Will, Flame, Light, Shadow, Logic, Chaos, Soul, Fate, and Freedom.
Together, they would guide the new reality The Infinite Era.
And Erevan?
He stepped beyond even that beyond the multiverse, into the Silent Realms where no thought could reach.
Because somewhere, in the blankness beyond stories… he still sensed something watching him.
> "If even the Author was only the beginning," he whispered,
"then what waits beyond all beginnings?"
The light faded.
A single line appeared in the cosmic void:
> "To be continued beyond existence."
---
"The Era of Infinite Realms"
Light returned but it was not the same.
The universe that emerged was not a single realm, nor a collection of them. It was a living infinity, breathing and expanding with Erevan's will.
He stood upon the Throne of Rewrite, suspended in a sky that had no horizon half gold, half void, swirling together like a storm of dreams and reality. His armor shimmered with moving glyphs, divine codes rewriting themselves endlessly across his form.
His voice echoed through the newborn multiverse:
> "Let there be no more destiny. No fate. No limits."
And so, it was written and unwritten.
Each realm that bloomed from his command became a story of its own.
Some were worlds of eternal light; others thrived in shadow and chaos.
Some defied gravity, some defied death.
Every possibility became real.
---
In one realm, mortals ascended by sheer will their emotions shaping stars.
In another, forgotten gods awakened, only to realize they were characters in Erevan's new play.
And in the center of all the Eternal Hall, where the rewritten souls gathered before the throne of the one who freed them from their fate.
When Erevan appeared there, reality trembled in reverence. Countless beings gods, demons, mortals, concepts knelt before him.
> "My lord," said a cosmic messenger made of starlight, "your will reshapes the infinite. What is your next decree?"
Erevan's eyes flared a reflection of every realm.
> "There will be no decrees. Only freedom. Every being will hold a fragment of the Rewrite the power to change their story."
The hall went silent. Even infinity paused, unsure how to comprehend such freedom.
The messenger whispered, trembling:
> "Then… even we could challenge you?"
Erevan smiled not cruelly, but knowingly.
> "That is the point."
---
But beyond the vast new cosmos, something began to stir again not an enemy, not a being… but a question.
When everything can be rewritten…
When all things are free…
What remains true?
Erevan felt it a subtle imbalance forming at the edges of the infinite. Realities began to clash, rewritten wills conflicting, merging, fracturing. The gift of freedom was also a seed of chaos.
He rose from his throne, his aura flaring with quiet power.
> "Even infinite stories need harmony," he said.
"Then let this be my next creation balance."
He lifted the Quill once more. From it flowed twelve fragments of himself, sent across existence each one embodying a different aspect of his power: Time, Void, Dream, Will, Flame, Light, Shadow, Logic, Chaos, Soul, Fate, and Freedom.
Together, they would guide the new reality The Infinite Era.
And Erevan?
He stepped beyond even that beyond the multiverse, into the Silent Realms where no thought could reach.
Because somewhere, in the blankness beyond stories… he still sensed something watching him.
> "If even the Author was only the beginning," he whispered,
"then what waits beyond all beginnings?"
The light faded.
A single line appeared in the cosmic void:
> "To be continued beyond existence."
---