It began with a summons that none of them spoke, yet all of them felt.
Eternity paused in his flowing body of stars, Death stilled her silent step, Infinity stretched inward from her boundless expanse, Entropy coiled his unraveling touch, Oblivion stirred from his formless shadow, and Dream lifted his pale gaze from the Dreaming.
A hollow place called to them — not void, not silence, not yet claimed by any. A place that was waiting.
They gathered.
Eternity's voice came first, resonant with the shimmer of all that was, is, and will be.
"We are scattered, yet never alone. Let there be a place where we may stand together."
Infinity's presence unfurled, her endlessness flooding the hollow. Stars bloomed like a million possibilities breaking open.
"Then let it stretch without boundary, so that it may hold all that we are."
Death walked through the forming starlight, her touch quieting their brilliance.
"And let it be still when it must. A silence of rest, not of dread."
Entropy reached forth, fingers brushing the stars, making them blaze and fade in cycles.
"All things change. Let this hall breathe with rise and fall, so it does not lie stagnant."
Oblivion seeped into the corners, marking them with edges that refused definition, reminding all that beyond every boundary lay nothing.
"And let it remember absence, for absence is as true as presence."
Then Dream stepped forward. His cloak curled into shapes of vision — pillars carved of shadow and light, ceilings etched with constellations that whispered stories, arches that suggested halls yet unwalked. He gave the hollow not merely size or silence, but meaning.
"Let this be a hall, not of rule or decree, but of reflection. A hall where we may gather, and in gathering, know one another."
The visions bound themselves together.
The starlight of Infinity became its floor, endless and glittering. Eternity's flow wound through it as rivers of time, crossing endlessly. Death's stillness gave it form, holding the stars steady. Entropy's hand made its walls shimmer with change, alive with motion. Oblivion shaped the edges, where corridors stretched away into nothing. And Dream crowned it with archways of story, dreamstuff weaving through the air like unseen breath.
Thus, the Hall of Concepts was born.
It was no throne room, though each found a seat shaped in their likeness: Eternity's flowing like an endless spiral, Infinity's stretching beyond sight, Death's a simple black chair of quiet dignity, Entropy's crumbling and reforming, Oblivion's fading and reappearing, Dream's wrought of shadow and light intertwined.
They sat, not as rulers, but as witnesses.
Eternity spoke, his voice endless.
"They will walk my flow. Their lives will be measured in my current."
Infinity's eyes glittered with a thousand futures.
"They will hunger for me. Every breath they take will be a reaching."
Entropy's smile was jagged.
"They will decay. And in their endings, new beginnings will always spark."
Oblivion said nothing, yet the silence at his side pressed meaning into the hall. The mortals would end in him.
Death's words were soft, but somewhat melancholic.
"They will know me in every heartbeat. Some will fear me, some will curse me, some will welcome me. I will walk beside them all."
Then all eyes turned to Dream.
His cloak whispered with visions as he rose, his pale gaze soft yet steady.
"They will come to me unbidden. In slumber they will wander my dominion, shaping themselves and me alike. Their fears will be my shadows. Their hopes will be my light. Through dream, they will touch each of you — Eternity, Infinity, Death, even Oblivion. I will be the bridge between us and them."
For a moment, silence lingered. Not of denial. Not of conflict. But of recognition.
Death's gaze lingered on Dream longer than any other. In her stillness was not only understanding, but something deeper, unspoken.
The Hall shimmered, alive with their presences. It was not a place of decrees. It was a sanctuary, a mirror, a reminder that even they — eternal, infinite, unyielding — were not alone.
Thus the Hall of Concepts stood, bound not by stone or time, but by the truth of what they were[1]
And it would remain as long as they did.
[1] I know this isn’t the thing in normal Marvel lore but I wanted to make a place for them to have meetings with each other. Think of it like the throne room of Olympus, but they aren’t rulers