The Primordial Void was quiet, but only on the surface. Lucien had long since learned that silence rarely meant inactivity—it often meant something waited, hidden, just beyond perception.
One of his clones, sent decades ago into a distant realm beyond the Aetherys branch, had discovered something… peculiar. A relic older than the stars he had birthed, forged in a time when even the branches of the World Tree were unborn.
Lucien turned his attention, the Abyssal Eyes scanning the distant void where the clone had paused. He could see it—an artifact suspended in the fabric of the universe, pulsating with a subtle, ancient energy.
"Interesting…" Lucien murmured, his grin sharp, faintly dangerous. "Even out there, life and relics remember what I have yet to see."
He didn't need to move. The clone would handle it for now. But Lucien's mind wandered, tracing its origins, considering what kind of forces could have created something like this—forces that even he had not yet touched. The artifact was a signal… and signals rarely came without consequence.
Before Lucien could ponder further, the familiar shimmer of the Metaphysical Plane appeared. The air—or whatever passed for air here—shifted with expectation. He did not need to turn to know who had arrived.
Kaelith.
Arrogant, stylish, blue hair with that signature red strand in front, perfectly fitted suit clinging without restriction, radiating authority that seemed to bend the very metaphysical fabric around him. Lucien's lips curved faintly.
"Well, it seems my entertainment has arrived," he murmured, calm and measured. "You really do have impeccable timing."
Kaelith smirked, stepping forward in a way that defied gravity and expectation, his voice carrying easily across the vast void. "You've been busy, Lucien. Branches stretching beyond even the Primordial, new life forms… and yet you still dwell here in the quiet, pretending you're not bored."
Lucien's eyes glimmered with amusement. "Pretending? Oh, I don't pretend. I simply… wait for those who are worth my attention."
Kaelith chuckled darkly, a low, playful sound. "Worth your attention? Bold words for someone who doesn't even know what I've become. But no matter… we'll see soon enough."
The Void Tenses
The Primordial Void pulsed faintly, responding to the tension between them. Lucien didn't move, didn't act, yet the entire space seemed to hold its breath. Kaelith's aura, amplified by the blessings of the Metaphysical Plane, warred subtly against Lucien's own authority.
Lucien tilted his head, letting the edges of his smile sharpen. "I'm curious… you're still arrogant, still goofy, still dark in that ridiculous way of yours. Do you really think a fight is necessary?"
Kaelith's grin widened. "It's inevitable. But I'll let you enjoy the spectacle first. You always do appreciate the build-up."
Lucien's lips quirked. "You do realize I can end this before it begins, right?"
Kaelith's laughter rang again, unbothered, almost reverent. "I know. That's why I came. I want to see the real you, not the one that sits in the shadows of creation."
Lucien's eyes glowed faintly, a quiet storm of absolute awareness behind them. The branches of the World Tree hummed faintly, resonating with him, carrying the possibility of Aetherys, Earth-10, and the countless other voids he had created.
"Then come," he said softly. "Show me what the Metaphysical has to offer."
And in that moment, the void seemed to shrink, focus itself, as two beings whose very existence bent the rules of reality prepared to clash—not merely with strength, but with authority itself.