Before there was shape, before there was word, there was Time — endless, measureless, flowing in all directions at once.
And with Time came Night, the first great veil, stretching wide and silent over the nothing that was everything.

From Time and Night came the Endless.

First was Destiny, who walked his garden in blind certainty, carrying the book that holds all things, even the book itself.
Then came Death, patient and kind, who greets all that live and guides all that end.

In the moment between life and loss, Dream opened his eyes.
He built palaces of thought and kingdoms of vision where mortals and gods wander in slumber.

But Dream did not wake alone.

From the same breath, the same thread of Night’s shadow and Time’s inevitability, his twin emerged.

Dark.
Where Dream spun color and light, Dark gathered stillness and shadow.
Not absence, but the keeper of what light leaves behind.
The two were bound in a balance older than stars, though Dream chose the realms of men while Dark lingered in the halls between moments.

After them came Destruction, with his strong hands and booming laugh, building even as he broke.
Then Desire, as bright and sharp as a blade’s edge, and Despair, who was her reflection in a cracked mirror.
Last was Delight, whose laughter painted the air in colors never before imagined, unbroken and unafraid.

They are the Endless.
Older than gods, older than worlds, older than the story of “before.”
And this is the tale of the one who has waited the longest in the dark.

( I don't own any of the characters other than Dark, the rest belong to DC and the cover is The Void from marvel, this is AU so some things are changed like personalities of some of the endless )

The void does not move.It waits.And I wait with it.


I sit upon my throne of abyss, watching.


Through the shadows I see the multiverse — the twisting of galaxies, the flicker of stars, the birth and death of worlds. I do not interfere. I only look.


Here in Oblivion, there is no sun to rise, no day to end. My realm folds endlessly into itself, a place that bleeds into Limbo where the lost wander without name or memory.


I have thought of taking Limbo for myself.Not today.Perhaps not tomorrow.But when I do, it will not be contested.


Around me, my symbiotes move — black shapes that shift and crawl without eyes or mouths, yet they see and speak in ways mortals cannot understand. They roam the domain in restless loops, their hunger dulled only by my will.


I feel their impatience as if it were my own.


"Soon," I whisper into the silence. My voice is not sound, but the absence of it. "Soon, you will have somewhere to wreak havoc."


The throne beneath me hums with the weight of eternity.In Oblivion, even anticipation is a slow thing.


Chapter 2 - Chapter 2: Shadows Without End