At a point where all endings intersect and all beginnings begin, there is a place that history has never known and imagination has never dared to imagine... A place that was not created, but "formed" from the remnants of thoughts and the silence of unlived moments.
Amidst this deep silence that resembled the moment when time stopped before it collapsed, he sat down.
He was not a being, not a ghost, not even a fixed form. He was like what is said to be "the origin of every tale", and yet he was not a tale, but the maker of tales.
Inside a circular hall whose dimensions did not change no matter how far or near the walls were, he sat on a throne made not of gold or bone, but of the very fabric of worlds themselves: Fragments of forgotten anime, excerpts from unfinished novels, and the colours of scenes that were cancelled before they were painted. All this formed his throne, all this reflected his features that were never drawn, but understood.
They called him "Master of Dimensions". Not because he claimed the title, but because those around him couldn't find a suitable description for a bipedal idea.
His army? They were not fighters... but sons. Not by blood, but by fate. Each of them was the product of a flaw in the fabric of the story, a small crack in a forgotten dimension, a tear in a page that was supposed to be immortal.
And they, in turn, did not see in him a leader... but a father. He didn't hug them, but he knew how to contain all their inner ruptures without touching them. He didn't tell them what to do, but he made them want to do it.
**
"Sir..."
A quiet voice pierced the stillness of the hall. One of the 'big brothers' - the three of them, the so-called emperors - stepped forward.
The speaker was named Carnus. He was not just a military force, but a law unto himself. His power comes not from muscle or energy, but from his ability to recognise the moment when the mind collapses before the heart.
"The edges are shaking again. Someone is trying to come back from oblivion."
The dimensional master did not reply. Silence was not an escape, but a language.
Karnos continued:
"They are not of our world. They are not from your world. They are from a fissure between two worlds, destined not to be told."
Finally, the father lifted his gaze and stared into space.
Then he said in a voice that was not loud, but heavier than the explosion of a galaxy:
"The Dimensional Army... It is time to break the silence."
**
In less than a blink, the hall began to transform.
It wasn't just a base, but a living organism that breathed through stories, pulsed whenever an idea was born, and ached whenever a dream came to an end. Every wall opened into a corridor, every corridor into a door, and every door into a gateway to a fragmented world.
The three emperors stood in a single line, followed by the leaders of the dimensional intelligence.
Men made of the clay of legends, carrying neither swords nor guns, but moments that can only be understood if you are inside them. One was born from the conclusion of an anime that was cancelled after three episodes, another from a novel that was abruptly cut short because the author died, and a third from a game that was never fully programmed.
These are the watchers, the protectors, the eyes that watch the balance without being seen.
**
But something new was taking shape...
On the surface of a deserted dimension, where the air carries no sound and the sky shows no sun, an eye opened in the middle of nowhere.
An eye that was not human... Not even imaginary.
Just a "desire" formed by millions of people who wanted a better ending, a different beginning, a second chance.
This desire began to materialise.
For the first time in centuries, the dimensional master felt that something was coming... that didn't belong.
But he was not afraid.
Because when the world is the story, and people are the ink, he is the only one who knows how to close the last page without being forgotten