In a multiverse where reality’s are mere stories stacked infinitely within one another, a dangerous anomaly known as the Anti-Theory begins collapsing entire narrative layers—corrupting concepts, erasing them, and killing godlike entity’s. At the heart of this unraveling omniversal crisis is Dr. Tofu, a brilliant but haunted scientist who carries the trauma of love lost and knowledge gained too soon.

With time unraveling and reality fracturing, Tofu joins forces with his lifelong companions, Vento and Zeke, to construct the Narrative Singularity Engine—a last-ditch device designed to reset the very fabric of the story itself. But the deeper they dig into the Anti-Theory’s origin, the more they uncover a chilling truth: even their own lives may be authored from above.

As the line between character and creator blurs, Dr. Tofu must confront the final paradox—can you defeat something that exists beyond story’s, beyond power, beyond concepts themselves?

My eyes fluttered open—vision hazy, blurred by disorientation.


A sharp, searing sensation pulsed through my left hand.


I raised it slowly, and horror met my gaze—a gaping wound torn straight through my palm.


It seems when I slammed the button, the Anti-Theory managed to shoot me—his final act of desperation.


I looked toward the Narrative Singularity Engine. 


A hole now pierced the panel where the red reset button once sat.


I scanned my surroundings. Silence. Emptiness.


"...It worked," I murmured—then coughed violently, thick blood staining my palm.


Shaking, I forced myself to my feet. The world felt... lighter. Hollow. But safe.


"The narrative... it reset," I whispered. "I did it. I saved an entire Narrative Stack… maybe even infinite stacks."


Turning, I saw them—Zeke and Vento. Still. Cold. Lifeless.


I stared at their bodies for a long time.


"I'll make sure you're given a proper burial," I whispered.


And over the next few days, I did just that.


Their graves were simple but meaningful. A scientist's tribute to fallen comrades—brothers.


When it was done, I returned to my office.


Without a word, I shut down the computer. 


Then, I retrieved the Anti-Theory file—pages upon pages of warnings, research, horrors. With steady hands, I tossed the document into the fireplace.


Chapter 9 - Case Closed