Outside the meta-structure, in the void, It opened Its gaping maw and swallowed an entire meta-structural verse—a realm of infinite beings who could rewrite stories at will.
It did not know what It was.
It had no gender, no soul, no name, no presence.
It simply existed in the emptiness, as It always had, from the beginning of nothingness—and as It always would, even after everything ended.
When the Author of the story decided to write about It, a thought flickered in the void:
"Hmm. At last, the story begins. I hope it's entertaining this time."
The Author disliked the idea of a being—one He believed He created—growing so powerful that He was forced to script Its defeat.
But was that truly the case?
Had He really created It… or had It always been there, lurking beyond the edges of consciousness, waiting to emerge from the darkest corners of thought?
Perhaps they would never know.
Then—
It opened Its eyes.
Before It, a glow of tiny dots flickered to life across the infinite meta-structures, where stories never end.
And then…
A grotesque, horrible smile stretched across Its face.
It had found a new toy.
CHAPTER ZERO: "It"