Shree Yan stood on the precipice of nothingness—an expanse that was not space, nor time, nor any concept the world had ever known. All that was familiar to him—the cultivation, the dark techniques, the manipulation of souls, the bending of reality—seemed like whispers in the vastness before him.
The First Evermore had shown him something unimaginable: that even immortality had its limits. That the end he had feared for so long was a mere transition, a shift into something beyond comprehension. Yet, Shree Yan, who had defied every limit before, now found himself facing an entirely new horizon—a horizon where even his absolute will seemed insignificant.
But Shree Yan was not one to bow to inevitability. No, he was a force that bent the very laws of existence. If there was a way to escape the grasp of time, to surpass even this ultimate truth, he would find it. There was no other choice.
His calculations began immediately.
"What lies beyond time? What is it that the First Evermore fears? And how can I harness it?" His mind swirled, plotting, strategizing, and in that moment, he realized: the answer was not in the realm of immortality. It was in the realm of creation itself—the power to shape existence at its very core.
Shree Yan's gaze sharpened.
"Creation… What if I am not bound by the confines of the universe? What if I am the force that reshapes it? Not as a conqueror, not as a ruler, but as the very architect of existence."
He stepped forward into the infinite void, each movement deliberate, each thought an intricate, precise step.
The universe, as he knew it, was but a shadow, and he would not rest until he became the light.
In the deep silence of the unknown, Shree Yan began to stretch his essence into the void. His red eyes, usually cold and devoid of emotion, now flickered with something darker—a determination born from the knowledge that the rules of existence no longer applied to him.
He reached into the very fabric of reality and tore it asunder, just as he had torn apart the world of mortals, the world of gods, and the very fabric of time itself.
But what he encountered was… strange.
Existence itself, in its rawest form, was a chaotic swirl of possibilities. Time was no longer linear, and every possible choice, every potential outcome, existed in this void as if they were tangible. He could see billions of versions of himself—each different, yet connected. The First Evermore had merely touched the surface of this cosmic web, but Shree Yan knew something the First had not:
To break through this web, he had to destroy not just the end—but everything that gave it shape.
A violent surge of power erupted from him. The boundless energy of his soul shattered the web, tearing apart realities, possibilities, and timelines. For the first time, he felt the true weight of his power. Not just as a being, but as a creator—a force of uncontrollable destruction.
Shree Yan was not simply defying death. He was defying reality itself. He was becoming the architect of a new existence, one where the old rules—death, time, space—had no meaning.
And then it hit him.
The true price of his ambition.
With each moment, he could feel his consciousness fraying. The universe, in all its forms, was being stretched too thin by his intervention. Each timeline he severed, each possibility he erased, chipped away at his own identity. He was becoming something beyond his control—something that was no longer Shree Yan, but a force.
And as he began to lose his sense of self, his emotional detachment—the very quality that had made him so ruthlessly calculative—became his salvation. In the absence of emotion, there was clarity. And in the clarity of his being, Shree Yan found the resolve to create what he had always sought:
A new existence—one where he was not a pawn of fate.
With a cold, unyielding decision, he cast his will outward, creating a new reality from the ruins of the old. His essence flowed into the fabric of the new world, shaping every corner, every possibility, and every timeline. He was not merely rewriting the universe—he was the universe.
The void began to shift. The raw energy of creation began to take shape, becoming something more tangible, more real. A world formed from nothingness. A world with no beginning, no end, but filled with the will of the Immortal King.
And as the final threads of the old reality faded, Shree Yan knew that this new realm—this realm of his design—was where his true legacy would unfold.
No gods. No kings. No boundaries. Only his will.
For Shree Yan, the Immortal King, had not just defied the end.
He had created it.
And in doing so, he had become the ultimate force, standing at the precipice of a universe that now belonged entirely to him.
But even then, a single thought lingered in his mind:
"What is left when you control everything? What is left when there is no end? Is this truly victory, or is this merely another beginning?"
The journey was far from over. In fact, it had just begun.