In the deepest reaches of the universe lies Tarturus.
It is not a world, nor a realm meant to be seen. It is a wound sealed shut. A prison forged by the Twelve Winged Angels, the guardian kings and gods entrusted with preserving existence itself. Within Tarturus, their greatest failure was bound. Beings of annihilation, malice, and horror beyond form were chained there, stripped of flesh and ground down by endless torment.
Tarturus was housed within a colossal black hole, a devourer that consumed light, matter, and time alike. Nothing that passed its horizon ever returned.
Until it did.
Deep within the abyss, a thin crack of white light split the darkness. It pulsed once, then again, widening as a massive bony claw forced its way through, prying reality apart. From the opening, countless black specks poured outward, fleeing the abyss in frantic silence.
Then time froze.
Trumpets blared.
White feathers drifted through the stillness as a blinding radiance descended. Armies of angels surged forth, wings unfurled, chains of golden light lashing outward to bind the escaping horrors. Many were seized mid flight, dragged screaming back into the dark.
A seraph with twelve wings descended before Tarturus. Light gathered in its grasp, forming a sword vast enough to split worlds. With a single strike, it cleaved down upon the bony claw, shattering it and sealing the breach.
But chaos breeds opportunity.
Amid the clash of divine light and shadow, nine entities slipped free. No longer possessing flesh, they fled as vast clouds of ethereal smoke, souls scarred and twisted by their imprisonment. Blindly, desperately, they hurled themselves toward the nearest living world.
An unsuspecting planet named Terra.
Far from Tarturus, on the distant edges of the universe, other calamities unfolded.
A colossal behemoth drifted through the void, a cosmic whale so immense that entire civilizations lived upon its back. A city of gods sprawled across its spine, radiant beyond imagination. Deities feasted, trained, and warred beneath artificial skies, confident in their eternity.
Then a sudden wind passed.
The behemoth's eyes dimmed. The lights of the divine city flickered once and went out. In a heartbeat, a stronghold that housed some of the universe's most renowned figures crumbled into dust and vanished without a sound.
Elsewhere, in a galaxy long declared dead, a low mechanical whir echoed through the void. Stars reignited one by one, blazing with unnatural brilliance. Planets began to rotate in perfect alignment as titanic gears turned across celestial bodies.
A machine the size of a galaxy awakened.
In the empty depths where nothing had ever lived, reality itself rippled. Space convulsed, and a gargantuan eye opened, its iris reflecting truths no mind was meant to hold.
And in a forgotten monument buried beneath layers of time, a skeleton draped in tattered Buddhist robes stirred. From a single drop of unrotted blood, flesh began to creep back over bone. Muscles reformed. Skin knit itself together.
The resurrected being opened its eyes.
Its lips moved, voice dry and certain.
"The universe," it said. "It is breaking."