Remus tore through the fabric of the dimensions, each one folding and collapsing in his wake. His screams reverberated through the countless planes, raw and unrelenting, a sound that transcended meaning. He wanted to escape. He had to escape. No barrier held, no boundary resisted. Every dimension shattered like brittle glass as his power surged outward, an unstoppable cascade of force that defied comprehension.
Each dimension, each plane, was a world unto itself, but to Remus, they were indistinct blurs of meaningless forms and colors. He moved too quickly to notice their unique intricacies. A forest that sang its own name in notes of light, a realm built from shifting equations, a vast sea of frozen stars—they all dissolved as he passed through, his pace accelerating beyond anything measurable.
"Stop him!"
The voice rang out, ancient and resonant, belonging to a being of power that dwarfed humanity. Its command rippled through the dimensions, reaching the Constants. Beings of unfathomable magnitude turned their focus toward the disturbance. Life, the first to sense him, stirred from her realm of perfect stillness.
"Too late," she whispered, her voice both a sigh and a storm. "He's already gone beyond."
Remus didn't hear her. Or perhaps he did, but the words held no meaning to him anymore. His mind, fragmented and raw, latched onto a single thought: 'Away. Get away.'
Each moment stretched and splintered into infinities. He passed through the nth dimension, where numbers no longer functioned, where reality itself quivered under the weight of his passage. His power flared again, exploding outward in violent pulses, destabilizing what could not be destabilized.
"Block him!" another Constant roared, its voice a symphony of commands and judgments. Its essence spread across the nth dimensions, erecting barriers that could hold space in place and chain the void itself.
Remus smashed through them as if they weren't there.
In the fractured remains of one dimension, a chorus of beings whispered, "What is he?" But no one answered. No one could.
His ascent quickened. Every barrier, every trap, every desperate attempt to contain him, was obliterated. The Constants scrambled, their vast forms intersecting in ways that should not have been possible. They clashed in their efforts to halt him, but they could not even slow him. He wasn't just moving forward; he was moving upward, through the very structure of the story itself.
Life reached out one last time, her presence brushing against him. "Stop this, child! You will unmake everything!"
He didn't respond. His form, still pulsing with the infinite blue light, flickered as if struggling to remain cohesive. Yet he climbed faster, his body shedding parts of itself that burned away into streams of raw energy.
"Away!" he roared again, the force of his voice fracturing dimensions around him. His words echoed across the nth pages, vibrating through layers of meaning and structure that even the Constants couldn't comprehend.
"He's—" one Constant began, its voice trembling with something unthinkable: fear.
"He's climbing the pages," another finished, disbelief woven into its tone. "Not even we—"
"He will reach the angels if this continues," Life interjected, her voice now sharp, urgent.
And yet, none of them could match his speed. Remus was no longer bound by anything they understood. The measures they used to define strength, speed, even existence itself, were meaningless to him now. His ascent was beyond immeasurable, a rate of movement that couldn't even be conceptualized, growing faster with every instant.
Still, he screamed. Still, he climbed. The domain of the Constants quaked, its edges fraying as his power surged again. Each step tore apart realities so abstract that even the Constants couldn't fathom their loss.
"Catch him!" Life shouted, desperation creeping into her voice.
But Remus was already beyond their grasp. And still, he ascended.
Michael stood at the edge of the anomaly, his gaze piercing through the layers of ruptured stories. Remus, now nothing more than a streak of blinding, chaotic energy, ascended faster than ever. The angels, their forms radiant and steadfast, moved to intercept him.
"They can handle this," Michael said firmly.
"No," Ashura interjected, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. She stepped forward, her presence commanding even among the mightiest. "Stop him? They won't make a difference."
Michael hesitated. "They can keep up with him."
"Maybe," Ashura replied, her tone grim, "but they cannot contain him. And they certainly cannot destroy him. Leave this to me."
The angels faltered, their movements halting at Michael's silent signal. He turned to Ashura, his expression unreadable. "Alright, but are you sure?"
"Stories are my domain," she said simply, her voice steady but with an edge of finality. "And he's unraveling countless of them with every moment."
Ashura didn't wait for a response. Her form shimmered as she focused her power, channeling it toward a single story—one just above where Remus was now. The fabric of that Story buckled under her arrival, its foundation shaking as if reality itself recognized her authority.
Remus surged upward, his relentless momentum bringing him closer. The glow of his form flickered wildly, the edges of his being radiating something both infinite and broken.
Gabriel, watching from beside Michael, asked quietly, "Do you think she can stop him?"
Michael didn't hesitate. "There's no doubt."
They stood together, silent witnesses, as Remus finally reached Ashura's chosen domain.