Seventeen thousand epochs ago, in the chaotic primordial days when the multiverse was still young and unstable, two beings met at the edge of a collapsing reality.

The first was Zorak, then barely ascended to the Multiversal level, his power raw and unrefined. He had been fleeing from a pack of Void Beasts—creatures that fed on the essence of collapsed universes—when he stumbled through a dimensional rift and crashed into the second being.

Morth'ak had been meditating at the boundary between existence and non-existence, seeking enlightenment in the liminal spaces where reality grew thin. The collision disrupted his meditation and nearly cost him his breakthrough, but instead of anger, he felt only curiosity. What kind of fool would flee toward a collapsing reality rather than away from it?

"You're either the bravest cultivator I've ever met or the stupidest," Morth'ak had said, his form then that of a towering humanoid wreathed in silver flames.

"Does it matter?" Zorak had gasped, his crystalline body cracked and bleeding essence. "The Void Beasts don't care either way."

What followed was a battle that lasted three days and reshaped seventeen adjacent realities. Morth'ak, already at the peak of Multiversal comprehension, fought with the precision of absolute mastery. Zorak, despite his injuries, displayed a raw ferocity that impressed even the older cultivator. Together, they drove off the Void Beast pack and sealed the collapsing reality before it could trigger a cascade failure.

In the aftermath, sitting among the wreckage of shattered dimensions, they had shared their first conversation as equals.

"Why did you help me?" Zorak had asked. "We're Multiversal Beings. We don't help each other. We compete, we conquer, we consume."

Morth'ak had considered the question with the thoughtfulness that would become his trademark. "Perhaps that's precisely why the multiverse remains so chaotic. Too much competition. Not enough collaboration."

That day, they swore brotherhood—not the casual alliance common among lesser beings, but a true soul-bond sealed with reality itself as witness. They would stand as brothers across the epochs, sharing knowledge, protecting each other's interests, and facing the infinite together.

Over the millennia that followed, their bond only deepened. Morth'ak taught Zorak the subtleties of Reality Law, helping him refine his crude power into elegant mastery. Zorak, in turn, showed Morth'ak the value of ambition, of reaching beyond comfortable stagnation to grasp for greater heights.

They celebrated each other's victories and mourned each other's setbacks. When Zorak consumed his first universe, Morth'ak had been there to ensure the process didn't corrupt his brother's essence. When Morth'ak achieved 95% Reality Law comprehension, Zorak had thrown a celebration that lasted an entire epoch.

They were more than brothers. They were constants in each other's infinite existence, anchors of certainty in a multiverse of chaos.

Morth'ak had long known that his path led beyond the Multiversal level. For those rare beings who achieved complete mastery of Reality Law—true 100% comprehension—there existed a higher plane of existence: the Infinity Realm.

The Infinity Realm was spoken of in whispers even among Multiversal Beings. It was a place where the Laws of conventional reality held no sway, where the very concept of limitation became optional. Those who ascended there pursued the ultimate truth: mastery over the Law of Infinity itself.

Infinity Law was not merely about endless power or eternal existence. It was about comprehending the fundamental nature of boundlessness—understanding how something could be both everything and nothing, how potential could exist without actualization, how one could contain multitudes while remaining singular.

Few achieved it. Most Multiversal Beings remained stuck at 70-90% Reality comprehension for epochs, unable to bridge that final gap. Those who did ascend rarely returned, having moved beyond the concerns of lower realms entirely.

Morth'ak had been in seclusion for 4,732 years, pursuing the final fragments of Reality Law that had eluded him. His meditation chamber existed in a pocket dimension he had carved from the space between spaces, where time flowed at his command and the fundamental constants of physics bent to accommodate his contemplation.

He sat in perfect stillness, his consciousness expanded across seventeen dimensions simultaneously, perceiving reality from every possible angle. The final 5% of Reality Law was not about learning new techniques or gaining more power—it was about fundamentally reconceptualizing his relationship with existence itself.

Reality was not something to be commanded. It was something to be become.

The breakthrough, when it came, was both sudden and inevitable. One moment, he was striving against the barrier. The next, he realized the barrier had never existed. He hadn't been trying to master Reality Law—he had been trying to remember that he was already part of it.

His comprehension jumped from 95% to 100% in an instant of perfect clarity.

The cosmos itself acknowledged his achievement. Across the multiverse, beings sensitive to such things felt a ripple of profound significance. Somewhere in the higher dimensions, a doorway opened—the path to the Infinity Realm, waiting for him to step through.

Morth'ak emerged from his seclusion with purpose burning in his essence. He would ascend, yes, but not before sharing this triumph with his sworn brother. Zorak deserved to know that their brotherhood had helped him reach this pinnacle. They would celebrate one final time before Morth'ak departed for the higher realm.

He reached out with his newly perfected Reality mastery, searching for Zorak's distinctive essence signature across the infinite expanse.

And found nothing.

At first, Morth'ak assumed it was an error. Perhaps Zorak was in deep seclusion himself, his presence masked by protective arrays. But a more thorough search yielded the same result—absolute absence.

Concern growing, Morth'ak expanded his search, using his 100% Reality comprehension to peer into the fundamental fabric of existence itself. Every being left traces, echoes in the cosmic structure. Zorak, with his distinctive crystalline essence and reality-warping presence, should have been impossible to miss.

There was nothing. Not even an echo.

True fear, an emotion Morth'ak hadn't felt in epochs, began to coil in his chest. He reached further, using techniques only possible with perfect Reality mastery. He examined the River of Time itself, looking for Zorak's thread among the infinite strands of causality.

The thread was there—but it ended. Abruptly. Completely. As if someone had taken cosmic scissors and simply cut it out of existence.

"No," Morth'ak whispered, his voice causing nearby realities to tremble. "No, that's not possible."

He dove deeper into the temporal flow, racing backward along Zorak's timeline, watching the last moments of his brother's existence unfold like a recording.

He saw the confrontation with some being he didn't recognize. Saw Zorak's arrogance, his certainty in his own power. Saw the battle in the Omega Void—except it wasn't a battle. It was an execution. A systematic dismantling followed by something that shouldn't exist: true ontological erasure.

Morth'ak watched his sworn brother simply cease to be. Not killed. Not sealed. Erased. As if he had never existed at all.

The River of Time rippled around him as Morth'ak's grief manifested as physical force. He tried to reach back, to change the past, to save Zorak before the encounter. But his hand passed through the temporal stream like it was smoke.

Even with 100% Reality Law, even with the ability to rewrite the fundamental nature of existence itself, he couldn't resurrect someone who had been completely erased. There was nothing left to resurrect. No soul to recall, no essence to reform, no conceptual anchor to rebuild from.

Zorak was gone. Truly, finally, absolutely gone.

The rage that followed was beyond anything Morth'ak had ever experienced. It was a cold, calculating fury that transcended emotion and became purpose. The being who had done this—this Elias Vance—would pay. Would be unmade just as he had unmade Zorak.

The Infinity Realm could wait. First, there would be vengeance.

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