The moment Miwa and Minos stepped into the familiar gray swirls of the Shadow Dimension, the silence was already broken by light chatter and flickering energy.
The others were seated in a wide ring—Jahanox, Kiyo, Jennie, and Caspian. Miwa skipped forward, her face bright. "We're late! What's the plan?" Minos walked beside her with quiet steps, his eyes observing every subtle shift in the dimension.
Jahanox stood up. "The plan is simple. We're training both of you. And while that happens, we're all pushing our own limits."
Zazm, leaning back with his usual nonchalance, clapped once. "Perfect. You guys handle that."
Jahanox raised an eyebrow. "And what will you be doing?"
Zazm's smirk faded into something colder, more serious. "Remember the time I tried tracing the root of the universal disturbance?"
Jahanox's pupils contracted. "You're not serious...."
"I am." Zazm nodded. "Only this time, I have Nexus's Gaze. Last time nearly wrecked me because I lacked the vision for it. Now, I do."
The weight of those words wasn't lost on anyone, even if the younger Catalysts didn't fully understand them. Jahanox tensed, but after a few seconds of hesitation, he nodded and sat back down.
Zazm turned to the group. "Don't worry about me. Focus on growing stronger. I'll be nearby."
They were just about to get up when Miwa asked, "When are we gonna bring in the final catalyst!"
At the mention of that everyone looked at Zazm waiting for an answer, "Trust me we will but it's not the correct time yet."
The shadow dimension shifted subtly over time, the dark expanse adapting itself as a training ground for the Catalysts.
Zazm was absent now, having vanished quietly after the meeting, dedicating himself to deciphering the tangled web of threads that held their universe together.
No one knew exactly where he went or what he saw, only that it was too dangerous for any of them to follow.
In his absence, the rest turned to their training.
Kiyomasa stood atop a wide stone platform, sweat pouring down his face as he bent the elements to his will.
A sharp gust of wind burst around him, encircling his body like a living creature, responding to every twitch of his fingers. With a grunt, he slammed his foot into the ground.
Earth erupted upward, forming jagged pillars. He transitioned into a fluid motion, sending a stream of fire spiraling around the rocks, encasing them in molten fury.
Then came the water. With a flick of his hands, a pool nearby rippled unnaturally, rising like a serpent into the air. The flowing mass of water danced between his hands before solidifying into ice.
Kiyomasa panted, the ground scorched beneath his feet, steam rising around him as fire clashed with water, rock with wind. He wasn't just controlling the elements—he was pushing them to harmonize, to blend without collapsing into chaos.
Nearby, Jennie focused in solitude. Her illusions had taken on a new layer of depth. She weaved light and shadow with subtle finesse, crafting decoys and mirages that shimmered like reality.
One clone of herself sprinted past Minos, who blinked in confusion, only to have Jennie appear behind him laughing.
But she wasn't just making illusions anymore. Her power was evolving. Now, she could subtly alter perception, making it harder for others to trust their senses.
A person could feel like they were standing still, while in truth, Jennie had shifted the world around them. It was disorienting. And powerful.
Miwa trained in bursts of chaotic energy, as if every moment was a game to her. But when she focused, her power telepathy and telekinesis shone like a blade.
She floated effortlessly above the ground, hurling boulders in mid-air, redirecting them mid-flight with flicks of her fingers. Her telepathic voice danced through everyone's minds, laughing, teasing, even coaching.
"C'mon, Minos! You're overthinking again!" she chirped mentally. "Relax! The quantum stuff listens better when you're not frowning so hard."
Minos didn't answer, his brow furrowed in concentration. He sat cross-legged near the edge of the training grounds, palms open, eyes fixed on the space in front of him.
Tiny sparks floated between his fingers quantum particles, each one flickering with impossible potential.
He wasn't moving matter in the traditional sense he was reshaping it on a fundamental level. Reconstructing it. Testing how far he could compress or expand it.
Sweat slid down his temple. A small sphere of matter floated in front of him dense, trembling, barely stable. If it collapsed, it could rupture the entire training field.
But he held it, He was learning.
In the far corner, Caspian grinned, mimicking all of them. He had seen enough of Kiyomasa's movements to replicate the elemental powers. Fire danced in his hand, wind curled around his legs. He even mimicked Miwa's telekinesis, throwing objects with just a glance.
Jennie's illusions? He had begun imitating them too clumsier, but improving. Her mirages turned into Caspian's shadows, rough and twitchy, but disorienting nonetheless.
And Minos… Caspian watched him closely. He hadn't tried copying that yet. It was dangerous. Too intricate. Too unpredictable. But the hunger in his eyes said he would. Eventually.
Jahanox oversaw the training sessions like a silent guardian, rarely interfering, but never far. He corrected form when necessary, called out mistakes, and sparred with them when they got cocky.
His own elemental mastery had become something else entirely—fusing elements in new ways, blending fire and wind into white-hot tornadoes or launching water bullets compressed with chunks of stone.
The Catalysts trained without rest. Days bled into nights within the timeless void of the shadow dimension. The only rhythm they knew was the rise and fall of their own power.
And above them all, far away, Zazm stared into the threads of the universe.
He stood suspended in a field of infinite light and silence. Threads pulsed in every direction—red, gold, silver, some dark and frayed. They moved like veins of a living creature. And Zazm, with Nexus's Gaze burning in his eyes, followed them.
He traced the points of origin, the fractures. Some threads snapped and rewove on their own. Others pulsed with decay. He mapped them in his mind, connecting fragments like a cosmic puzzle. And slowly, he saw it—an emerging pattern. Something ancient, something sickening in its consistency.
The universe was decaying.
And they didn't have much time.
But Zazm said nothing yet.
Let them grow. Let them become strong. When the time came, they'd need everything they had and more.
---
A cold breeze brushed past the figure standing on the towering roof of the floating castle, the sky painted in hues of deep indigo and silver.
Stars shimmered like scattered diamonds across the vast darkness, and below them, the Shadow Dimension sprawled endlessly.
A surreal mix of twilight landscapes, twisting stone plateaus, and crystalline trees swaying in a wind that didn't exist in the physical world.
Rivers of light pulsed through the veins of the dimension, weaving through floating islands and deep chasms like veins of a living entity. It was a breathtaking sight—beautiful, quiet, unknowable.
Zazm emerged through a circular warp in the air, cracking it open like glass before stepping into the realm. His coat flared slightly behind him from the dimensional pull as he landed smoothly behind Jahanox, who stood overlooking the distant glowing mountains.
Without warning, Zazm smacked Jahanox on the back with a grin. "Yo. Been a while, huh? What's the sitrep? How's everyone doing?"
Jahanox blinked, then smirked as he rolled his shoulder. "Welcome back, thread freak."
Zazm chuckled, brushing his hair out of his face as they both leaned against the railing of carved obsidian. The air crackled slightly from the raw energy constantly breathing through this dimension.
Jahanox began, "Kiyomasa's powers have taken a leap. He's no longer just using the four basic elements he can now control metal, ice, nature, and even blood to a certain degree."
Zazm let out a long whistle. "Damn. Blood? That's terrifying."
"Yeah," Jahanox said, crossing his arms. "It's limited to contact or residual trace, but still... you don't want to be scratched by him in a fight. He could freeze your blood, boil it, or rip it out. He's still too soft to ever use it seriously though."
"Still... scary," Zazm muttered again, a faint glint of pride in his eyes. "He's getting powerful fast."
Jahanox nodded. "Jennie too. Her illusions are getting ridiculously lifelike. At one point, I thought I was talking to you for five minutes. She even mimicked your speech pattern, your walk... Everything."
Zazm smirked. "Won't be a problem for me."
"Right, right," Jahanox chuckled knowingly. "Because of the threads, yeah?"
Zazm snapped his fingers with a grin. "Exactly. Every living being has threads. Illusions don't. Doesn't matter how realistic it looks, no threads, no soul. I just look for what's real."
Jahanox exhaled slowly. "It's still scary though. For someone without your ability, she's basically untrackable now."
"Good," Zazm said quietly, looking off toward the sky. "She might need it soon."
The weight of that comment hung in the air for a moment, but Jahanox pushed forward.
"Miwa's been making good progress too. Her telekinesis can carry more weight now—she lifted half the old colosseum during her spar with Kiyo.
Her telepathy's sharpening too. She can speak to multiple people across several kilometers and even detect emotional fluctuations mid-combat."
Zazm glanced at Jahanox. "Isn't that the same as your mind-reading?"
Jahanox shook his head. "Nah. Hers is telepathy she transmits and receives thoughts consciously. I, on the other hand, can derive thoughts through internal calculations. It's more... observational. Not a power. Just something I evolved into."
"Derived ability, got it," Zazm nodded. "Like how I can bend space to go invisible."
Jahanox stopped. "Wait. What?"
Zazm raised a brow. "I didn't tell you? Yeah. I can bend the space around my body so light refracts around me. I literally vanish—out of sync with visible space."
Jahanox narrowed his eyes, thinking. "So you become invisible by disconnecting from the real space-time fabric... That's not even invisibility, that's borderline dimensional phasing."
Zazm shrugged. "Cool, right?"
"You're ridiculous," Jahanox muttered under his breath with a shake of his head.
They paused again, the silence filled only with the faint hum of dimensional winds sweeping past the tower's edge. Zazm's gaze scanned the horizon, threads flickering in his peripheral vision each one a life, a story, an ending.
"And Minos?" Zazm finally asked.
Jahanox sighed. "Slower than the others. He can only manipulate quantum matter equal to the mass of a tennis ball, and that's on a good day."
"That's fine," Zazm said firmly. "His power is too volatile. Let him take his time. Rushing it could literally rupture the laws of physics."
"Miwa was worried too. She tries to cheer him up, but he's frustrated. He wants to be useful to everyone."
"He already is," Zazm said softly. "He just doesn't know it yet."
They reached the peak of the spire, where the railing stopped and the flat ledge ended in open air.
The stars above reflected in Zazm's eyes like burning pinpoints of reality. He inhaled the strange, ethereal air thinner than Earth's, but crisp like frost on a winter morning.
Below them, the Shadow Dimension breathed. Massive stone islands drifted lazily in the sky like ships at sea.
Some carried waterfalls pouring endlessly into glowing chasms, others grew giant roots that pulsed with light, holding up the very fabric of this floating dream world. A distant storm brewed over a distant range, but here, it was still. Serene.
Zazm's eyes flicked sideways. "And Caspian?"
Jahanox groaned, rubbing his temples. "What now? He's fine. Training, helping the others. Why can't you just trust him?"
Zazm's smile faded slowly, his voice dropping to a hush. "I don't know. I just can't. There's something off... A feeling I can't shake."
"You mean that gut instinct again?" Jahanox said skeptically.
"I've seen enough people to know when something's not right," Zazm murmured. "It's not just the way he talks or acts. It's the silence between it. The way his eyes... Move when no one's looking."
Jahanox frowned, watching Zazm closely now.
"I'm not accusing him," Zazm said. "Not yet. But if I'm right, if something happens, I want to be ready."
Jahanox was quiet. For a while, neither of them spoke. They simply watched the world below the strange beauty of a realm unbound by time.
The stars above flickered gently, and somewhere far in the distance, a new pulse echoed through the threads Zazm watched subtle, but growing louder.
The calm before the storm.
Here's the fully rewritten and stretched version of the emotional, intense dialogue scene between Zazm and Jahanox on the castle rooftop, including their philosophical discussion, cosmic stakes, and personal weight:
---
Jahanox let out a breath, the cool night air curling around his jaw. The two stood still, overlooking the dreamy, surreal view of the Shadow Realm's vast expanse—where the mountains drifted in slow arcs across the sky and glowing rivers spiraled through hanging cliffs like luminescent ribbons. The castle beneath their feet rumbled slightly, as if sensing the return of Zazm—whose presence always disrupted the stillness of things, like a finger dragged through the surface of calm water.
Jahanox turned toward him, breaking the silence. "Forget Caspian for a second. Tell me... What did you find? What's going on with the universe?"
Zazm didn't answer at first.
He just kept looking outward, toward the horizon that never ended. His silver hair danced faintly with the current of dimensional wind, his eyes fixed not on the beauty in front of him—but something far, far beyond it.
Then finally, in a voice low and heavy with exhaustion, he spoke.
"You were right," he said. "The multiverse... it's shaking. Not just cracking. Not just trembling. It's going toward collapse—fast."
Jahanox's breath caught. "What does that mean?"
Zazm tilted his head up slightly, watching as one of the large floating islands slowly tilted in the sky, casting a vast shadow across the clouds below.
"It means," he said, "we'll have to find the exact cause of the disruption... and erase it. Not just patch it up. We'll have to cut it out of existence like a tumor."
Jahanox nodded slowly. "I get it."
"No," Zazm turned toward him now, his expression unreadable. "You don't understand anything."
Jahanox's eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you mean?"
Zazm took a step closer, his tone darkening, words sharp like needles. "Do you know what happens when we fix the universe? When we finally stop this collapse?"
Jahanox shook his head.
Zazm answered with a slow breath. "Everything resets."
A pause.
Jahanox blinked. "What?"
Zazm continued, voice flat and calm. "Every universe will go back to the last moment it was stable. That means... time resets. Reality resets. For some universes, it could be a few days. For others, a few years. It completely depends on *when* the disturbance was first introduced."
He turned back toward the horizon.
"So if our universe's disruption started back when we were in middle school... we go back there. Everything between then and now—our powers, the people we've met, the battles, the deaths, the growth... all of it rewinds."
Jahanox's jaw tensed. "So what? We lose everything?"
Zazm shook his head. "Not our memories. We'll remember it all. Everyone else won't. For the rest of the world, it's like the last few years never happened. And technically... they didn't. People who died will be alive again. And they'll die again, exactly as they were meant to."
Jahanox ran a hand through his hair, stunned. "It's like... the whole universe is just refreshing itself. Like a computer rebooting after deleting a virus."
Zazm nodded. "Exactly."
Jahanox was silent for a long while. His fingers tapped once against the dark railing.
Then he looked at Zazm again, slower this time, eyes filled with wary suspicion.
"What did you mean earlier when you said *I* don't understand the issue? That you *don't know how to fix it*?"
Zazm turned. His expression was grave now. He met Jahanox's gaze directly—no grin, no smirk.
"What would you do," he began slowly, "if it's *us* that are the problem?"
The air thickened.
Jahanox's body tensed. "What?"
Zazm's eyes didn't waver. "What if the disruption started with *us*? Not just our universe. *Us.* The Catalysts. Or more specifically—*you and me.* What if we were the ones who caused the imbalance? What if our powers are what threw the threads into chaos in the first place?"
Jahanox's face paled slightly, a cold chill washing down his spine.
"You mean..." he stammered, "our *other* versions? In other universes?"
Zazm nodded once. "Exactly. Every version of you. Every version of me. Spreading like fractals through the multiverse. And only *we* seem to persist. The others fade, reset, vanish—but we don't. What if our existence is the virus?"
Jahanox took a step back unconsciously. His hand was trembling slightly.
"And if that's true," Zazm pressed, "then you understand what that means, don't you?"
Jahanox swallowed. "We'd... we'd have to erase the Catalysts."
Zazm shook his head. "Not *all* Catalysts. Just us. You. Me. The origin points."
Silence.
The floating wind stirred their coats. Somewhere far below, the castle's lights flickered like dying stars.
Jahanox leaned forward, a bitter, half-smile on his lips, his voice a whisper. "If the others are safe... then I don't care."
Zazm tilted his head slightly, surprised.
"They deserve to live," Jahanox said. "Miwa, Kiyo, Jennie, even Minos... even *Caspian.* If the price for the universe's survival is just us? Then it's fine. I'm okay with it."
Zazm smiled gently. "I feel the same."
"But?" Jahanox asked, sharp.
Zazm turned his gaze back to the stars. "The good news... is that we're not the problem."
Jahanox blinked. "Wait, what?"
"As far as I could trace the disruption, it began over 200 years ago," Zazm said quietly. "Long before we were born. Long before *Catalysts* existed."
He turned to Jahanox with a calm expression. "Even our *grandfathers* weren't alive then. Whatever happened—it predates us entirely."
Jahanox blinked once. Then again.
Then, slowly, a relieved laugh escaped him. "You little shit," he said, clapping Zazm on the shoulder. "You should've started with that!You had me thinking we'd have to erase ourselves from time!"
Zazm gave a lopsided grin. "Would've ruined the drama."
"You're a menace," Jahanox said, shaking his head, but he couldn't stop the smile on his face.
"But wait how did you know when the disruption began?" Jahanox asked.
Zazm's smirk widened, "The disruption must've been caused when one already disrupted universe coliided with us and the process continued.
I just traced the oldest threads I could see and that's how far I could trace to the disruption." Zazm finished and put his hands in his pockets.
"Wait don't tell me we would been going to another universe or something..." Jahanox asked a little surprised.
"Yeah that's how it looks like right now." Zazm smiled.
"But what if you know something unexpected happened you know like we see in those time travel movies and stuff...."
Zazm waved his hand in dismiss, "Multiverse is already too messed up and it can't get more messed up than this trust me."
For a moment, the tension dissolved. The danger remained, but the weight pressing against their chests had lifted—just enough to breathe again.
And above them, the stars continued to shimmer quietly, holding their secrets in silence.
The laughter slowly faded. The silence that returned was gentler now, not heavy with dread, but thoughtful.
Then, Zazm's voice cut through it—quiet, almost too soft to notice at first.
"Jahanox."
Jahanox looked over, noticing the shift in Zazm's tone. "Yeah?"
Zazm's eyes didn't meet his. Instead, he kept looking ahead, into the horizon that neither of them could see the end of.
"I need you to do me a favor."
Jahanox's brow furrowed. He stood straighter. "What kind of favor?"
Zazm turned to face him. His expression was calm, his smile faint but real too real. There was something heartbreaking behind it, like someone who had thought about this moment too many times in silence.
"The path ahead…" Zazm began, voice steady, "It's going to get ugly. Complicated. And I'm not… I'm not as strong as everyone thinks I am."
Jahanox's face hardened slightly.
"I've seen what power does," Zazm continued. "Even to people like us. I know I joke around a lot, pretend like nothing gets to me, but the truth is—I'm weak. I get tempted. I lose control. And if there ever comes a day…"
He raised a hand and tapped his forehead, right between his eyes.
"…if I ever go dark—if I lose my way and can't come back—then I want you to promise me something."
Jahanox's mouth parted slightly. "…What?"
Zazm's smile widened just a little. Honest. Soft. Terrifying.
"I want you to take a gun and shoot me. Right here. One bullet, clean through the head. Don't hesitate. Make it fast."
The words hit like a falling stone.
Jahanox's jaw dropped. "Zazm—"
"I mean it," Zazm said. "No speeches. No trying to talk me down, No bullshit whatsoever. If I become the thing we swore to stop—then stop me."
He exhaled. "Make sure you kill me in one shot. I don't like pain."
A beat.
Then Jahanox let out a breathy, disbelieving laugh. The kind that shakes your chest but not your lungs. His eyes were wide, but slowly, slowly, he mirrored Zazm's smile.
"Then the same goes for me," he said.
Zazm raised an eyebrow.
"If I lose my way…" Jahanox pointed to his chest. "…you shoot me right here."
Zazm blinked. "The chest?"
Jahanox nodded. "Yeah."
"Why there?"
Jahanox's smile deepened. "Because I'd rather feel it. If I've done something that horrible—if I've become a monster—I want to feel that last second of pain before it ends. I want to know I messed up."
Zazm stared at him for a long moment.
Then he laughed—quiet, genuine.
"You're dramatic."
"Says the guy who requested an execution on a moonlit rooftop."
They both chuckled, not as warriors, not as weapons, not even as saviors.
But as brothers.
Then Zazm extended a hand
___________________________