Chapter 236 — What Even Anti‑Creation Observes
The silence persisted.
Not an empty silence.
Not a dead silence.
An attentive silence.
As if existence itself held its breath…
waiting to know
if it should continue.
Even the laws of the Realm of the Architects hesitated.
Some slowed.
Others… temporarily forgot what they were supposed to do.
A law of causality tried to explain what was happening.
It gave up halfway.
Aeternus rose slowly from his throne.
A simple gesture.
Calm.
Controlled.
But behind him,
the steps carved into conceptual reality trembled,
as if the throne refused to let him leave.
— "You speak of forgetting," he said evenly.
— "But forgetting is an effect. Not a cause."
The Nameless Ancient tilted his head slightly.
— "That's what you told yourselves," he replied.
— "To sleep. To keep creating without looking behind you."
Kaeron stepped forward.
Balance vibrated around him.
Not violently.
Not aggressively.
Like a system detecting an impossible datum.
— "Balance has never recorded your existence.
No trace.
No stable echo.
Nothing."
An invisible smile appeared.
— "Of course. Balance can only measure what accepts being counted."
Aedrys frowned.
— "So you are… outside narration."
— "False," corrected the Nameless Ancient.
— "I am before narration.
Before the need to tell anything for it to exist."
Aedrys stepped back half a pace.
— "…I hate when people say that."
Erwin felt his realities shiver.
Some even began rewriting themselves.
A secondary timeline tried to delete itself.
He stopped it with a sharp gesture.
— "What you ask…
If your 'substance' is truly integrated into the strata…
Then removing it would—"
— "A conceptual implosion," finished the Nameless Ancient.
— "Yes."
Erik ran a hand over his face.
— "Great. Another primordial thing offended.
Seriously, we should stop creating concepts without reading the fine print."
— "I wasn't offended," the Ancient replied calmly.
— "I was neglected."
A beat.
Then—
Something observed the scene.
Not a presence.
Not an entity.
A conscious negation.
At a distance even distance refused to define,
the Palace of Nothingness vibrated.
And then—
A laugh echoed.
Soft.
Slow.
Unsettling.
— "Hm."
The sound came from nowhere.
It came from the reverse side.
Aeternus froze.
Kaeron turned pale.
Aedrys murmured, almost against his will:
— "…No."
The laugh resumed.
— "So it's you."
The Realm of the Architects cracked.
Not brutally.
Not violently.
As if reality… simply abandoned the idea of resisting.
Vael was there.
Not in his full form.
Not in his full horror.
Just… present.
Erik sighed.
— "Ah. Him."
— "Interesting," said Vael, observing the Nameless Ancient.
— "You are neither a mistake.
Nor a failed creation."
He tilted his head slightly.
— "You are a remainder."
The Nameless Ancient turned toward him.
For the first time…
his smile faltered.
— "You…
You weren't supposed to exist like this."
Vael smiled.
— "Oh. They told me the same thing."
Aeternus clenched his teeth.
— "Vael. This realm is under my jurisdiction."
— "Not anymore," Vael replied calmly.
— "You have invited something that even I…
I have never erased."
Silence.
Even heavier.
Even older.
Vael fixed his gaze on the Nameless Ancient.
— "Tell me.
When you speak of reclaiming your substance…"
His smile widened slightly.
— "…do you mean me as well?"
The Nameless Ancient stayed silent for a moment.
Then:
— "You are an anomaly born of a void I no longer occupied.
A shadow in an already empty room.
He tilted his head.
— "But yes.
You are part of the echoes."
Vael burst out laughing.
A laugh without joy.
Without anger.
— "Ah."
He slowly lifted his eyes.
— "You are mistaken, you see."
His multicolored gaze fell on the Nameless Ancient.
Space around him began refusing to exist properly.
— "I was not born of a void."
His smile grew slower.
Sharper.
— "And that…"
He stepped closer.
Each step erased an unwritten rule.
— "…you are nothing before my abyss."
He placed his hand on the Nameless Ancient's shoulder.
Not a threat.
Not an attack.
A reminder.
— "You claim to be Forgetting."
Silence.
— "We'll see about that."
The Nameless Ancient shuddered.
Just for an instant.
Enough for Kaeron to notice.
Enough for Balance to panic.
Vael tilted his head.
— "Oh."
A smile, almost amused.
— "Interesting."
The Realm of the Architects then understood one thing.
This was not a war.
It was a comparison.
And for the first time since the dawn of concepts…
Someone had just wondered
if he truly had the right to exist.
Chapter 237 — When the Abyss Smiles
Vael's hand still rested on the shoulder of the Nameless Ancient.
Not heavy.
Not violent.
Just… there.
And yet—
The Realm of the Architects groaned.
Not a cry.
A deep sigh.
Like an old concept tired of existing.
Aeternus felt something he hadn't since the First Structuring.
The unexpected.
The real.
— "Vael," he said slowly.
— "Remove your hand."
Vael did not move.
— "You know," he replied calmly,
— "it's funny how you all say that
— when something finally surpasses your understanding."
Erik rolled his eyes.
— "Great. Two impossible entities. A cracked throne room. How much do we bet this ends in 'total rewriting of existence'?"
— "Fifty strata," Erwin muttered.
— "Minimum."
Kaeron fixed his gaze on Vael's hand.
— "This contact… it isn't symbolic."
Aedrys nodded.
— "It isn't even narrative. It's… a misplaced final punctuation."
The Nameless Ancient inhaled.
For the first time since… always.
— "Remove your hand," he repeated.
His voice was no longer calm.
Not angry.
Just… uncertain.
Vael tilted his head slightly.
— "Oh? The original Forgotten asking for something."
A smile, almost compassionate.
— "You see, that's where you're mistaken. You define yourself by what others forgot of you."
He tapped his shoulder lightly.
— "I am what they tried to erase… and what decided to remain."
The conceptual ground split beneath their feet.
Not a violent fracture.
A clean line.
Neat.
Like a truth poorly stored.
Aeternus clenched his teeth.
— "Vael. If you continue—"
— "What?" Vael cut him off.
— "You'll invoke a law? A rule? An authority that even he passes through without leaving a shadow?"
He gestured toward the Nameless Ancient with his chin.
— "Do you really want to play that game now?"
Silence.
Even Erik had no joke left.
The Nameless Ancient slowly raised his head.
His smile had returned.
But different.
More rigid.
Less certain.
— "You think yourself above me," he said.
— "Because you embody a stable negation."
Vael nodded.
— "Nice summary. False… but elegant."
He leaned slightly closer.
— "You are the forgetting no one dared face. I am the abyss that held their gaze… until they looked away."
A beat.
Then—
Vael withdrew his hand.
The Realm inhaled.
Literally.
The cracks froze.
The laws stopped panicking.
Some even straightened themselves, almost ashamed.
Erik coughed.
— "Well. Nobody died. That's progress."
Aeternus did not laugh.
— "Why have you come, Vael?"
Vael smiled.
— "To observe. And to verify something."
He looked at the Nameless Ancient.
— "Now I know."
— "Know what?" Kaeron asked tensely.
Vael turned to the Architects.
— "That it isn't him… who is the most dangerous here."
A frozen silence fell.
The Nameless Ancient narrowed his eyes.
— "You dare—"
— "Oh, I dare very well," Vael replied calmly.
— "But rest assured."
His gaze grew almost amused.
— "I am not here to save you. Nor to stop him."
He stepped back.
— "Just to make sure that when everything truly begins… I will be at the very center of the disaster."
Then he vanished.
No light.
No wave.
Just… gone.
The Realm remained silent for a long time.
Aeternus closed his eyes.
— "…We have a problem."
Kaeron nodded.
— "A problem that cannot be balanced."
Aedrys murmured:
— "Nor narrated."
Erik sighed deeply.
— "Seriously… we should have stuck with dragons."
The Nameless Ancient, alone at the center of the hall,
was still smiling.
But this time…
It was no longer a smile of certainty.
It was a smile of defiance.
Chapter 238 — Echoes Never Stay Silent
Vael was gone.
And yet,
the Realm of the Architects had not returned to its form.
The cracks had frozen, yes.
The laws had stopped panicking, yes.
But something remained…
A residual tension.
Like a lie one no longer dares to repeat.
Aeternus stood still.
More king than ever.
And yet, for the first time,
his throne seemed… distant.
— "He did nothing," Erwin murmured.
— "Exactly," Kaeron replied without averting his gaze.
Aedrys observed the narrative lines suspended around them.
Some still flickered, hesitant.
Others pretended they had seen nothing.
— "He looked," Aedrys said.
— "And now, the stories know they can be observed from outside."
Erik grimaced.
— "Great. So even our stories now have existential anxiety."
No one laughed.
Even the concept of humor seemed to be questioning its usefulness.
The Nameless Ancient still stood at the center of the hall.
Straight.
Calm.
But something had changed.
It wasn't his posture.
It wasn't his smile.
It was his rhythm.
Before, he imposed silence.
Now…
He listened to it.
Aeternus turned toward him.
— "Did you get what you wanted?"
The Nameless Ancient inclined his head slightly.
— "No."
A beat.
— "But I obtained what I had never had."
Kaeron frowned.
— "Explain."
The Ancient's smile grew thinner.
— "A limit."
A shiver ran through Balance.
Not fear.
Recognition.
— "You saw Vael," Aeternus said.
— "And you understood you were not alone at the summit."
— "Exactly."
He slowly raised his eyes.
— "And now you too."
Silence.
Then—
Something arrived.
Not an intrusion.
Not an attack.
A presence.
The Realm of the Architects contracted, as if recognizing an authority it had never dared to question.
Two silhouettes appeared.
Two projections.
White hair, long, tied in a ponytail.
Same bearing.
Same impossible calm.
But not the same pressure.
One had golden eyes.
Deep.
Ancient.
Azarion.
The Origin.
The other had multicolored eyes, shifting, impossible to fix.
As if every reality tried to impose its version there.
Aetherion.
The other Origin.
A colossal pressure fell upon the Nameless Ancient.
Not violent.
Not destructive.
Just… crushing.
As if existence itself had just said:
*"Sit down."*
Erik whispered:
— "…Ah. Them."
— "Say nothing," Erwin replied.
— "Breathe. And above all… don't exist too strongly."
Azarion calmly raised her hand.
— "Aetherion."
Her voice was neither stern nor gentle.
It was foundational.
— "Calm yourself. Let him have a chance to explain."
Aetherion did not answer immediately.
He stepped forward.
Each step made a different law retreat.
Then he fixed his gaze on the Nameless Ancient.
— "So… you're the one who says we stole your primal substance."
A humorless smile.
— "And with it, we built all these structures."
He seized the Nameless Ancient by the neck.
Without effort.
Without anger.
Like grasping a misplaced variable.
The Realm of the Architects froze completely.
Aedrys murmured:
— "…This passage isn't written anywhere."
Azarion sighed.
— "Aetherion. Release him."
— "He's still breathing," Aetherion replied.
— "So I'm being reasonable."
— "That is not a criterion."
Aeternus bowed immediately.
— "Father. You are here…"
He hesitated for a fraction of a moment.
— "What brings you?"
Aetherion turned his head slightly.
— "This," he answered simply, shaking the Nameless Ancient.
— "He claims to be older than us."
He narrowed his eyes.
— "I sincerely hope he has an excellent justification."
Azarion finally laid her gaze on the Nameless Ancient.
No threat.
No judgment.
Just… total attention.
— "You may speak," she said calmly.
— "But choose your words carefully."
Silence fell.
The Nameless Ancient was still smiling.
But this time…
It was neither a smile of certainty,
nor a smile of defiance.
It was the smile of someone
who had just realized
he was no longer speaking with concepts.
But with
the Origins of existence itself.
And somewhere, far away,
the echoes
began to grow… loud.
Chapter 239 — What Remains When the Summit Trembles
No one moved.
Not because they couldn't.
But because, for once,
no one truly knew
which direction to take.
The Nameless Ancient was still held by the neck.
Not strangled.
Not hurt.
Just… restrained.
Like a parenthesis
one refuses to close.
Aetherion stared at him,
multicolored eyes perfectly still.
— "You know what's fascinating," he said calmly,
— "is that everyone who claims to be 'before us'
— always has exactly the same tone."
He tilted his head slightly.
— "A mix of certainty… and resentment."
Azarion sighed softly.
— "Aetherion. You judge him before he even speaks."
— "Because I've already heard this speech," he replied without loosening his grip.
— "'You stole.'
— 'You usurped.'
— 'Existence should have been mine.'"
He leaned closer.
— "So I'll ask you again.
— Slowly.
— Clearly.
— And without metaphor."
Silence.
Even the laws held their breath.
Some seriously considered a career change.
— "How," said Aetherion,
— "could we have stolen anything
— when nothing yet existed to be stolen?"
The Nameless Ancient closed his eyes.
Not from fear.
From fatigue.
— "You stole nothing."
His voice was neither strong nor weak.
It was… bare.
— "You used what remained."
Aetherion frowned slightly.
— "What remained of what?"
— "Of me."
A shiver ran through the hall.
Not shock.
Not scandal.
Just that unpleasant impression…
that the answer was too much.
Azarion gently placed her hand on Aetherion's forearm.
— "Release him."
He hesitated.
Then let go.
The Nameless Ancient stepped back.
Massaged his neck, more out of habit than necessity.
— "I was not a being," he continued.
— "Not in the sense you are."
He paused.
— "Before the Architects.
— Before the Origins…
— there was an absence."
A beat.
— "A conscious void."
Silence.
— "I was that void."
He lifted his head.
— "You built upon something
— you never created.
— And without me…
— none of this would exist."
Another beat.
Kaeron inhaled slowly.
— "Wrong answer."
Aedrys tilted his head.
— "Very wrong."
Azarion, however, smiled faintly.
— "Interesting. Continue."
Erik raised a finger.
— "Quick question.
— 'Conscious void,' is that an official concept…
— or a self‑appointed title?"
No one answered.
— "You came after," the Ancient pressed on.
— "You created by will.
— By perfection.
— By absolutes."
He clenched his fists slightly.
— "You gave forms.
— Laws.
— Stories."
He fixed his gaze on Aetherion.
— "But the void you used…"
He smiled.
— "That was me."
Aetherion looked at him for a long time.
— "Lie."
His aura was released.
Not brutally.
Not violently.
But totally.
The laws did not break.
They surrendered.
The Realm of the Architects bent.
The pillars of Creation trembled.
The stories froze mid‑sentence.
Even elsewhere—
In the Palace of Nothingness, Vael lifted his head slightly.
— "…Again?"
Nyxa blinked.
Nihil stayed silent.
Valt frowned.
— "He looks upset," Death murmured.
On Earth—
In the Eclipse Guild, Zarion froze.
— "…Father."
Valen's eyes snapped open.
Naël inhaled deeply.
Liora felt her heart skip a beat.
Elyon clenched his teeth.
In the Northern Pantheon, Blackstar straightened.
— "Ah. That's definitely not normal."
Aeternus shouted:
— "FATHER, STOP!"
Aetherion did not look away.
— "You say you were a 'void.'
— A remainder.
— A consequence."
He stepped forward.
Each step erased a hypothesis.
— "Then listen."
A silence fell.
Heavier than all the ones before.
— "I will explain cosmology clearly."
The laws shivered.
Not because he spoke.
But because he was about to speak.
Azarion closed her eyes for a fraction of a second.
Kaeron crossed his arms.
Aedrys stopped smiling.
Even the Nameless Ancient felt something change.
Not a threat.
Not an attack.
A lesson.
— "Not to convince you," Aetherion continued.
— "Not to silence you."
He raised his hand slightly.
— "But so you understand one thing."
He fixed his gaze on the Nameless Ancient.
— "You were not there before.
— You were there beneath."
Silence.
— "And what is beneath…
— never explains what towers above it."
Black.