Volume 10, Chapter 2: "When Infinity Bleeds"
The battle began in silence.
No light. No darkness. No time.
Only concepts breaking.
Erevan's presence was a starfire beyond dimension golden, void-touched, wrapped in divine chaos. Across from him stood the being that existed before being formless, infinite recursion given shape.
Every motion was a paradox.
Every breath remade the boundaries of "existence."
When Erevan raised his hand, the multiverse shattered like glass. Fragments of entire timelines exploded outward each one blooming into universes that obeyed his will.
The being countered not with strength, but definition.
"You cannot fight what refuses to exist," it whispered. Its voice rippled across everything rewriting meaning itself. Erevan's galaxies blinked out of truth, reduced to memory, then to metaphor.
But Erevan only smiled calm, supreme, untouchable.
"You think existence is fragile," he said, his tone bending law and language alike. "But I am not existence. I am what it becomes when it refuses to end."
Behind him, a thousand Erevan-forms manifested each from a different layer of narrative reality.
The Dreamer Erevan.
The Scriptless One.
The Boundless Form.
The Eternal Flame of Paradox.
Together, they moved one thought, infinite actions.
They collided with the being's essence, and the void screamed.
Concepts melted.
Causality reversed.
The hierarchy of creation collapsed into dust.
Every attack Erevan unleashed carried broken divinity:
Omniversal Pulse a wave that forced every dimension to acknowledge his presence.
Meta-Sovereignty a power that let him rewrite the logic of power itself.
Eternal Override immunity to destruction, erasure, limitation, or fate.
Infinite Cascade every strike infinitely stronger than the one before it.
The being faltered. Its form began to distort flickering between countless versions of "before."
"Impossible," it murmured. "You stand outside my recursion."
Erevan's eyes burned with a light that wasn't light.
"Because I am not part of your dream. I am the moment the dreamer wakes."
Reality split.
The void convulsed.
From beyond all layers of truth, something higher watched a presence older than both the Architect and the Dreamer. For the first time in eternity, even the meta-cosmos hesitated, sensing the birth of something beyond omnipotence.
Erevan turned, his gaze piercing that unseen vantage point the one beyond story, beyond writer, beyond world.
And he spoke:
> "If you're watching… know this I am no longer your creation. I am the will that outlived you."
The words echoed through every realm, every narrative, every possibility breaking all fourth walls.
And with that declaration, Erevan's form ascended beyond comprehension.
The being before him ceased to exist not destroyed, but rewritten into silence.
Its memory faded, replaced by the quiet hum of boundless creation.
In the aftermath, Erevan stood alone in the endless expanse and smiled.
> "The story continues," he whispered, "but now… I write it."