In the void before existence, there was only a whisper—a whisper that resonated with the essence of all things that were, are, and will be. This whisper did not belong to any god or creator but to something far more ancient and unknowable. From the formless depths of the abyss, a presence was sealed away—a being of unfathomable power, older than time itself. Its name had been forgotten by the ages, for even time, in its eternal flow, had no memory of this entity's origin. It was not a deity, nor was it an architect of creation. It was a force, primordial and absolute, lurking in the uncharted corners of reality.
For eons, the presence slumbered in silence, its power bound and forgotten. But all silence has a sound, and here, in the darkness between worlds, a heartbeat echoed. Not the heartbeat of man, nor beast, nor god, but something far more sinister.
In the dark, forgotten recesses of the Abyssalvoid, a place older than time, the Author of Realities stirred. The Author was no mere creator. It was a force, a sculptor of dimensions, whose hands shaped the fabric of existence, bending it into the Nexus Verse, a sprawling network of infinite realities. Yet, for all its power, there was something it feared—something it had locked away long ago, deep within the Abyssalvoid, beyond the reach of existence.
A presence was stirring—an entity of such unimaginable power that it threatened to unravel the very fabric of the multiverse. Known only as ????, it was the embodiment of chaos and order, light and darkness, bound together in a paradox that defied comprehension. This being had once stood at the heart of creation, its mere existence challenging the laws of reality. The Author had sealed it away eons ago, but now he himself opening his seal.
The Abyssalvoid shuddered as the Author muttered an incantation, a spell older than the stars themselves. The air crackled with energy, growing heavy and oppressive as the boundaries between realities trembled. From the Absolute Void, the presence of ??? began to seep through, filling the room with an oppressive darkness that seemed to swallow light itself.
Reality buckled as ??? took form—if it could be called a form. It was not a figure in the conventional sense, but a shifting, fluid mass of shadow and light, a constantly changing, amorphous entity that defied description. Its "eyes"—if they could be called that—were deep, swirling voids, blacker than the deepest abyss, yet within them flickered something both beautiful and terrible.
"I am sor…" the entity began, its voice a cacophony of whispers and screams, echoing from the depths of time itself. But then it stopped.
A profound silence filled the space, one that seemed to suck all sound and thought into it. The being's words caught in its throat, an uncharacteristic hesitation that sent a ripple of unease through the Nexus. Those void-like eyes shifted, a flicker of something alien—horror and pain. For the first time in eternity, ??? felt fear and shock....