HISTORICAL CONNOTATIONS BLEND WITH MELODIES THAT HAVE BEEN STIRRING SINCE THE DAWN OF TIME. Waseso is immersed in deep speculation. He is a powerful god, filled with divine majesty, not merely an entity bound by temporary abilities; rather, He is luxurious in the protection shared by the polarity of His presence—a realm of creation that immerses Him in tranquil charm. The pillar of Waseso is a weave, beginning with threads of non-sectarian strength and human sensitivity that are twisted together.
The breath that escaped His lips was filled with the bitter scent of futility, dense with countless choices that had shaped the universe, combining the restlessness of His own blood with what was now depicted. The letters of his heart were carved with steadfast intent, echoing a sacred song lost in the lament of emptiness. This melody resonated with the spirit of discipline and worship, fading to convey the collapse of vulnerability. His attitude toward the balance of sensations, drowning in the burden of shameful chaos, His period trembled with scattered, crude energy.
His experience is nothing but scattered promises, shattered and scattered in the corners of his desires. He falls with conviction, like an eternal leader amid the ruins of the towering design he built himself. His hands shape the universe, reaching for the sharp structures or promises that have long lost their dreams, only to pierce the heart with an unbridgeable chasm that separates the final intention.
The difficult fragments of hybridity are trapped internally within the amber of its charm, its eyes spinning fragments of cracked reality beneath the work of its assistant. The fabric of the mortal world He has created holds the remnants of His birth, a silent critique of His inability to prevent the inevitable collapse that haunts Him. His actions linger in the vast corridors of this century, surely approaching the burden weighing on His shoulders, a loss that no human, divine, or rather, several answers, can avoid. Waseso is the ghost that follows Himself, the master of duality at the core of will—a complex being, a lost man, frozen in the embrace of His evil story.
"As I said on your behalf. It is in your hands that the repeated timeline will pass," replied the younger figure from His past. "Let us seal the pact between us. It is enough for us to say goodbye as necessary. When the time finally comes to meet you again, if not, we will perish. Be diplomatic. Our intention has been—we don't have much time left."
"It's enough to meet and stay… I don't want to dwell on what you whisper." The Future and the Past nodded, but initially dispersed. "Power does work in mysterious ways," the Almighty hurriedly continued, now with a touch of nostalgia and loneliness in His heart. Even my commander did not realise I was a copy of my servant.
Although this lonely God has learned one lesson in His greatness, nothing is more important. In the early days of his domestic life, he gained many followers and loyal friends and experienced much hardship. It felt as if everything had collapsed for Him.
He could see himself falling into a place that remained that way, with nothing else worth thinking about. Therefore, why did his current situation feel different from when he disappeared? There was more to it than just people with abnormal personalities and values. "I am a special god who is narrow-minded; even with my name, I cannot be recommended," he muttered.
Because loneliness had returned with a vengeance, all of this was a frustrating experience; so far, his life had seen no significant change in his circumstances and no real progress in his efforts toward retirement. This wasn't the first time the two figures had approached him; they had predicted visits like this many times before, and he had even begun to think this was just a figment of his imagination.
He still loved it, but his love did not dispel the darkness. Again and again, the two figures continued to play their roles, and the lonely one had no choice but to spend time with his designs. It depended on the reason, of course, but on the other hand, he was upset; the lonely one had no friends to joke around with, and he didn't have much to think about either. His past and future converge in saying the same thing, again; the miracle of Death will come at the hands of a golden figure spoken of as the Golden Sun. As long as the lonely one can feel his Death right under his nose, he takes the memory of the creature he once thought of—the young-looking woman with fair skin, his elderly opponent, and most importantly, himself from the surface of the future.
His former self had considered him foolish for still holding on to his vow. Besides, how could it not exist? Most of the existence he had created before his eyes did not need to be here now to feel it. Without realising it, his former self made his lonely self question his decision on a different level.
Half of the past and future planets went to war after the first generation of the seven planets he designed. Due to their inactivity in the solar system, the planets became complacent and lost their will to live.
After much debate and soul-searching, the lonely God relinquished control of the universe in exchange for a quick release.
His name disappeared from the historical record, but he remained a part of ongoing life.
Even if he were truly the Almighty, Waseso would still regret having been manipulated by antiheroes, the umbilical cord of friendship, or even by the laws of the universe of his own creation.
In essence, Waseso is a cosmic individual. As evidenced by his style, hurting himself with trivial matters is merely a waste of time. The origin of darkness, like the past in a universe that has breathed its last breath, is the same as himself, ignoring the warnings given simultaneously by his two selves, which destroy the origins of the past and the future.
In a final attempt to gain insight from the destruction decreed, the Almighty from the previous timeline finally gave up. He fled peacefully… or so all the servants of the Almighty believed.
Migrating while remaining still, Waseso's innate nature became increasingly ingrained. He restrains himself from releasing all the creations he has known, hacked from sin or innocence, stubbornly, when he can only survive as a fragment of himself… in other words, the Almighty does not want a repetition of the cycle that has happened and will happen, so he decides to create a universe that becomes a migrant. By doing so, Waseso would bring chaos on a massive scale, thus proving how desperate the Almighty really was. These actions are not meant to be interpreted as final. They are proof of the power that reigns. This willingness identifies Waseso—the lonely God—as desperate to free himself from the confines of the universe he had imagined.
The courage needed to break free from these limitations is undoubtedly well known. Struck by Waseso's quiet face, he was lonely and afraid of independence.
After a long time, he began to feel a sense of regret about his abandoned work. Since he began to see his old creations, the works on this new existence gave him a kind of happiness and appreciation. With fear, the scale of the power of the Creator was actually more silent than he claimed. As long as his consciousness made him aware, he appreciated the creations assigned to him.
Waseso was tossed about in the emptiness of the abyss that swallowed him. His knees buckled and floated in an indescribable void, a metaphor for a silent prayer to nothingness that bore witness to the despair of his suffering. His body trembled persistently under the weight of his insane regret, his breath gasping as evidence of the pain that gripped his foundation. His long, faded hair strands had turned white, like snow, starkly visible against the density surrounding him—a tattered, red carpet of sadness.
He clasped his hands together in devastating sorrow. His eyes were filled with the remnants of his wandering sadness, a hint of futility reflecting his voluntary punishment.
"Why," he whispered, his voice deflecting like the fragile shell of a creature that had long since ceased functioning. Why did I give them the gift of existence, only to throw them into this endless sea of suffering?" Instead of being scattered by the dull cage of his brain, his words echoed repeatedly in the void with a haunting resonance, like a lament sung by the fabric of the universe itself.
A single word of greeting is a stream of pressure, an emotional debate that seems to pierce through the scheme of hatred. His fist pounds on the boundless field of his lower return, arbitrary movements giving shape to his fundamentally broken self, gathering the essence of his regret to become a real afternoon. The groans that dominate him are collected, optimal morals emerge to dissolve frustration in the roundabout, overflowing emptiness with heartfelt cries.
"If I magically made a different decision, would everything become more civilised? Can no one help me end this hardship?!" cried the Almighty. His tears were tears of denial, crossing over feelings of guilt and flowing continuously. His sorrow was so overwhelming that he pounded his own chest. He could do nothing but lament the destruction of the universe. "You are flawed, Death! Your own name is tarnished!" Waseso moaned. His body shook uncontrollably as his despair emerged.
Bright white light enveloped his frozen body, and everything became complicated.
Waseso awoke again, golden light shining on his heart filled with hope. Everything around him was enveloped in total silence. Unlike the previous universe, there was no trace of consciousness anywhere.
Yeah. Look at what you've done now, Waseso.
The law that governs pulsating destruction….
The golden puppeteer who was supposed to be his sworn enemy held his hand. Although not disgusted, Waseso sobbed uncharacteristically, reportedly out of sadness and a sense of flexibility. He did not even try to turn his face away. Even though his heart ached with sadness and lingering feelings, he immediately realised that his sadness and suffering were nothing compared to the extraordinary joy he had experienced since his discovery.
The flashes of light from the early celestial sphere danced in the middle of Waseso's eye pool, spreading a soft and delicate light across his ancient, fierce face. Pure joy adorned his features for the first time in thousands of years.
He scanned the cosmic beauty on his own face. His hands, marked with endless evidence of his sincerity, slowly stretched out from the cliffs on either side of his body, trembling with awe at the light that could not be approached from a distance. The hopeful side of his strong chest swelled with each deep breath he took, spreading the news of deep emotions within the spirit of his soul. Following the low horror tone, he whispered, "So beautiful… truly full of life…."
God himself smells… the term is Death.
Gliding through the space, he realises the soul is never destined to die or escape. The heart of the soul is His righteousness. The same is true of evil.
Even the death he thought of didn't sound right.
No different from the newcomers.
Talking, but dying together in chaos.
I don't believe I'm kneeling before fate.
A sincere mind opening can finally emerge from this lonely God's reasoning. He discovered his loneliness, and he mediated Death for free. Then, the towering union promised Waseso in his acquisition.
My greatest treasure.
To that end, he opened his palm, dreaming of the most extensive sun in the universe. All global life began to gather, forming a group of galaxies while Death hunted them down. Then it ended with their eyes staring at each other, and a smile slowly grew on the lips of the disaster. He regretted that Death could not have his soul, after which another figure would try to find a replacement because every creature deserves compensation for the sacrifice of life.
The universe is internationally very safe, because the eye of Death has unknown powers as it slowly descends, gradually happily heading towards a quieter direction. Waseso above erases his presence from sight because he, as the Almighty, can roar to come back to life.
A loud crash echoed. Along with the swing of the universe's darkness breaking free, it transformed into light, becoming warm and respectful. The Almighty's mind immediately felt the calmness and comfort enveloping him, embracing him with a sense of friendship.