She knew who he was, but she didn't know what he was.
she had another question.
Yet, she didn't ask him. Instead, she restrained her curiosity, keeping it to herself.
She asked him in her mind, as if she wanted him to hear her:
'Raziel ÆLNOÛS'
"WHAT ARE YOU???"
But the mystery of Raziel ÆLNOÛS had only just begun.
["Truly Interesting!]
["my #@>?"]
Raziel ignored the system's words, dismissing them as just another one of its usual jests.Yet this time, something felt… different.And still, Raziel showed no reaction at all.
He turned his attention to Lyra and spoke calmly, his voice neither harsh nor gentle—simply absolute.
"That is not the knowledge you must know," he said.A pause followed, heavy with meaning."Curiosity kills the cat."
Lyra froze.
Earlier, she had asked who he was—and received an answer.But now, after daring to ask what he was, he wouldn't even grant her a hint.
A storm of emotion surged within her. She wanted to lash out, to demand answers, to scream against the silence placed before her.
But she couldn't.
How could she… after what she had seen?
THE DOORS.
THE EYE.
THE TREE.
THE SUN.
THE THRONES.
Each image burned itself into her soul, overwhelming and inescapable. It was madness to believe she could retaliate against a being tied to such visions—against something that felt less like a person and more like the foundation of existence itself.
So instead, Lyra swallowed her pride.
She nodded once, slowly, in acknowledgment.Then bowed her head—not in submission, but in reverence.
Reverence for the Maker of Everything.
Raziel watched her carefully. Seeing her response, he reached out and gently helped her back to her feet. His expression revealed nothing, but his actions spoke clearly enough.
This conversation was over.
[RESUME]
With a subtle flick of his hand, time resumed.
The frozen world exhaled.
Students who had been locked in place blinked and continued their movements as if nothing had happened. The headmaster, mid-step toward them, suddenly lurched forward as motion reclaimed her body. The great families breathed again. The towering structure pulsed once more, its presence reaffirmed.
Reality stitched itself back together seamlessly.
Lyra turned then—slowly—and met Michael's eyes.
"You have found a good friend," she murmured under her breath, just loud enough for him alone to hear.
Michael stiffened. His eyes widened as he took a half-step back, shock rippling through him.
"Even if he's human?" he asked, disbelief coloring his voice."I know what you think of humans. You believe them beneath us. There has never been one who earned your acknowledgment… and yet you approve of my friend?"
His words trembled—not with anger, but awe.
Lyra studied him for a long moment.
"I trust you," she said simply.
That alone was enough.
She turned away, already walking forward, but her final words were spoken softly—too softly for him to hear.
"Serve him well."
The headmaster approached them, her face devoid of expression.
Yet beneath that stillness, questions burned—sharp and unrelenting—and she intended to ask every last one of them.
She stopped just before Raziel.
Slowly, she lifted her head and looked up at him, her gaze locking onto his crimson eyes. They were not merely red; they were deep, ancient, like embers left behind after the death of a universe. She studied his face carefully, searching for something—anything—that might resemble vulnerability.
She found none.
His expression was cold, perfectly composed, untouched by fear, arrogance, or doubt. And yet… he was beautiful.
Not beautiful in a mortal sense.Not divine.Not titanic.
No single creation—no god, no primordial, no being ever shaped by existence—could compare. His presence felt designed, not born, as though reality itself had labored endlessly to sculpt him and still fallen short of perfection.
To her quiet horror, she realized she was staring.
And worse—
She felt herself drawn to him.
"Raziel," she said at last, her voice steady despite the storm beneath it."What happened here?"
As she spoke, her gaze shifted to Michael, deliberately ignoring the presence of the one who—only moments ago—had stood ready to reduce the academy to ash.
Michael stepped forward.
He looked down at her, his golden, draconic eyes piercing straight through her defenses and into her very being. He, too, was beautiful—tall and imposing, his presence carrying the weight of ancient bloodlines and battle-forged pride.
Yet even so…
He was not Raziel.
Not as intelligent.
Not as cunning.
Not as powerful.
And not—no matter how much it pained the world to admit it—as beautiful.
"We enjoyed the battle," Michael said, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. His tone was light, playful, almost amused. "I never thought I'd meet someone with more battle instinct—and more lust for combat—than me."
He spoke as though he couldn't care less about Sariel's authority, or her concern, or the implications of what had nearly occurred.
Sariel's eyes narrowed.
Anger flared within her, sharp and immediate—but she crushed it down, forcing her emotions back under control.
"This is not the time for jokes," she snapped. "The students could have died."
Her voice hardened as she continued.
"If not for the academy's defensive array, the Gate's mana could have replicated itself—merged with the students, rewritten them from the inside—"
"But it didn't."
Raziel spoke.
His voice was calm, even soft—but it carried authority so absolute that it cut through her words like a blade through silk.
She turned back to him.
"I would never allow it to," he continued.
No threat.
No promise.
Just fact.
"Alright, then," she said at last. "I'll believe you."
Her gaze hardened.
"But understand this—what happened here happened because of you."
She turned away from Raziel and shifted her attention to Lyra, who had already returned to her throne. Lyra sat in composed silence, watching everything unfold with unreadable eyes, her posture regal and distant, as though the chaos moments earlier had never touched her.
Then—slowly—everything subsided.
The pressure in the air lessened. The trembling mana settled. The oppressive weight that had crushed the crowd eased, though it never fully vanished.
Raziel and Michael stepped back into the gathering of students. Even among thousands, their presence remained overwhelming—like two singularities walking calmly through lesser stars. The prodigies, the Absolute Great Families, the Primordial Families, and even the King of the Primordial Family continued to watch in silence, their gazes never leaving the pair.
They didn't speak.
They simply observed.
Then the headmaster spoke again, her voice carrying effortlessly across the vast space.
"Due to the recent occurrence," she announced, "this test is hereby suspended."
A ripple of confusion passed through the students.
"However," she continued, "you have already passed the first trial."
The silence shattered.
"All of you will be accepted into the academy."
For a heartbeat, no one reacted.
Then—
"Raise your heads," the headmaster said."You did well."
The dam broke.
Students who had just walked the edge of death erupted into cheers, laughter, and shouts of pure relief. Some collapsed to their knees. Others hugged strangers. A few simply stared at their hands, trembling, unable to believe they were still alive.
They had survived.
For the less privileged—for those who had scraped by on talent alone, for those who had never imagined standing among nobles—it was nothing short of a miracle.
And in their hearts, many began to associate that miracle with a single name.
Raziel.
Faces lit with joy as conversations spilled out uncontrollably.
"That Gate was insane—did you see it fold in on itself?" "I dueled a noble and won! An actual noble!" "Bro, I thought I was dead for sure—"
"But those two," someone whispered."Raziel and Michael… that's all anyone's talking about."
"How can someone that young have such presence?" "No—how can anyone have that presence? "It's unreal. He's a genius."
"I know, right?"
Yet not everyone celebrated.
Among the sons and daughters of the Absolute Great Families, the Primordial Families, and the lineage of the King himself, there was no joy.
Only observation.
Some watched with jealousy sharp enough to cut. Others with anger barely restrained. A few with curiosity. And a rare handful with quiet respect.
But beneath all those emotions lay a single shared truth:
They had all felt it.
GOD stood among them.
Michael and Raziel stood side by side, watching the crowd dissolve into noise and wonder. Their expressions remained calm, distant, absolute. Yet between them, the tension eased just enough for familiarity to surface.
Michael leaned closer, looking up at the sky.
"One day, I'm going to become an Origin—a being that transcends the Tower itself."
"Haha, don't worry, Michael. Your role is to keep dreaming," Raziel replied, glancing back at him. "I'll be the one who turns that dream into reality."
Michael met his gaze and smiled.
"You're staring at me for way too long," he said. "What, are you gay or something, bro?"
"Shut up! I'm not gay!"
"Fuck you, you bastard."
And just like that, they both burst out laughing.
Then the headmaster raised her voice once more.
"You have all done well," she said.
"But rewards, ranks, and hierarchy still exist."
The crowd quieted immediately.
"Those who are accepted will be granted residence in the ACADEMY"
"Those who place in the top ten will each be granted their own territory within the academy."
A murmur of disbelief spread.
"Private realms—complete with residences, servants, and resources."
Gasps echoed.
"The top three," she continued, "will each be granted their own space."
The air grew tense.
"And first place…"
She paused.
"…will be granted a dimension."
Silence.
Then, as one, the crowd turned.
Their heads slowly pivoted toward the back of the gathering.
Of course.
It was Raziel.
[THE GREAT NATURE OF THE UNKNOWN] subtly alters his divine presence, Making him more etheral.
He was,
The man who caused a dungeon to collapse.The man whose presence bent reality until it shattered—and then reformed around him.The man who stood untouched by fear, authority, or consequence.
They had expected this.
After all—
No one else deserved it.
"SCHOOL begins tomorrow," the headmaster announced.
"Prepare yourselves."
The courtyard exploded.
Shouts rang out like thunder. Laughter and cheers surged through the air as joy erupted unchecked. Students embraced, argued excitedly, and shouted promises of future greatness.
After some time, the crowd began to disperse.
Some departed for their newly claimed residences.Others vanished into their territories.A select few were escorted toward their spaces.
And one alone walked toward the headmaster.
Raziel moved through the academy halls in silence.
The corridors resembled the interior of a grand castle—vast, ancient, and impossibly refined. Tall stone walls stretched upward, carved with runes and reliefs that depicted forgotten epochs and celestial wars. As Raziel passed, candles along the walls ignited one by one, flames blooming into existence as though the hall itself had been waiting for him.
Their light followed his steps.
A deep crimson carpet ran the length of the corridor, its fabric rich and flawless. For a fleeting moment, it reminded him of the Louis Vuitton carpets he had once seen on Earth—luxury made tangible, power woven into design.
At the end of the hall stood massive double doors of obsidian wood, etched with gold sigils that pulsed faintly.
They opened without a sound.
The headmaster's office was vast—less a room and more a sanctum.
High vaulted ceilings disappeared into shadow, supported by pillars carved to resemble ancient trees, their branches forming the arches above. Tall stained-glass windows lined the walls, depicting abstract constellations and cosmic entities that shifted subtly when one wasn't looking.
A massive desk of polished black stone stood at the center, floating just slightly above the floor. Shelves filled with grimoires, artifacts, and crystalline constructs lined the walls. The air itself felt heavy—layered with authority, knowledge, and countless secrets.
"I trust you are here to claim your dimension," the headmaster said calmly.
"Yes," Raziel replied.
His voice carried no emotion.
She nodded once.
"Before you enter it," she said, "you must understand what a dimension truly is."
She raised her hand, and a faint projection of layered worlds appeared between them.
"Dimensions are the embodiment of one's soul—shaped by desire, will, and vision. They may manifest as a house, a realm, or even an entire world. Whatever form they take, they exist as the Domain of their owner."
She turned her gaze to Raziel.
"They do not grant absolute power," she continued. "They grant imagination."
"Space represents the mind—pure and absolute. Territory exists within one's authority. But a dimension transcends both."
She gestured again, and the projection shifted.
"Dimensions are ranked as follows:
Grave Dimensions—unstable, newly born domains. Fragile, prone to collapse, and often hostile to themselves.
New Dimensions—formed when one fuses their mind with the dimension, turning it into their personal space.
Supreme Dimensions—fully shaped by the owner's will. They reflect the user's vision of the world itself. No being may enter without permission.
Absolute Dimensions—domains capable of containing multiple concepts or semi-realities within them.
Primordial Dimensions—ancient fragments of Multiverses tied directly to the soul. These have existed since the beginning of time. One may obtain such a dimension only by slaying a primordial being… or by merging their existence entirely with their domain."
She paused.
"And then there is Infinity."
Her expression hardened slightly.
"There is nothing recorded about it."
The projection vanished.
"So," she said, reaching into the air itself, "you will be granted a Grave Dimension. What you make of it… is entirely your concern."
She handed him something.
It looked like a flat, translucent fragment of reality—silent, unstable, and endlessly deep. Within it, faint distortions twisted and folded, as if the dimension itself were struggling against its own existence.
The moment it touched Raziel's hand, the system activated.
[Dimension Detected]
[Rank: Grave]
[Description: A dimension that has existed in constant conflict with itself. It seeks an owner.]
[would you like to use FUSION OF THE INFINITE SQUARED MULTIPLIER?]
"Yes."
Raziel did not speak aloud. The word echoed within his mind alone—soft, deliberate—yet it carried a curiosity so rare that even he seemed momentarily surprised by it.
The fragment of reality in his hand trembled.
Then the system responded.
[TITLE RECEIVED: DIMENSIONAL EXISTENCE][RANK: GREAT BEYOND / META-CONCEPTUAL]
[Description]
[Your existence transcends all dimensions, layers, axes, coordinates, and hierarchies. You are not bound to space, time, direction, causality, scale, or locality.]
[You exist everywhere and nowhere simultaneously, not as presence—but as fact.]
[This state surpasses omnipresence. Omnipresence implies being within all places. You exist before the idea of place.]
[you exist at any layer of dimension you are a dimension being , you can exist above layers, your presence can be 0D-infniteD]
[Dimensions do not contain you—they occur because you are acknowledged.]
[Core Effects:]
[You cannot be localized, sealed, tracked, banished, exiled, erased, or anchored.]
[Any attempt to define your position, state, or location fails automatically.]
[Spatial destruction, dimensional collapse, void erasure, or boundary annihilation cannot affect you.]
[You are immune to all spatial, dimensional, interdimensional, extradimensional, and meta-dimensional interference.]
[You may act across all dimensions at once without division of power, awareness, or intent.]
[Absolute Perks]
[Non-Local Existence: You do not "arrive" or "leave. "Your presence is retroactively true.]
[Dimensional Sovereignty: Any dimension you acknowledge becomes subordinate to your will.]
[Hierarchy Denial: No dimensional rank, plane, layer, or scale can supersede you.]
[Infinite Parallel Action: You may perform infinite independent actions across infinite realities simultaneously.]
[Sub-Skills Granted]
[1. Axis Denial]
[Nullifies all spatial axes (X/Y/Z, higher axes, conceptual axes).
Attacks relying on direction, distance, or orientation cannot target you.]
[2. Layer Transcendence]
[You exist across and beyond all dimensional layers at once.]
[Higher dimensions do not grant superiority over you.]
[4. Dimensional Rewrite]
[You may overwrite the dimensional structure of any reality.]
[Convert higher dimensions into lower ones—or erase the distinction entirely.]
[5. Boundless Entry]
[You may enter or exit any dimension without transition, cost, delay, or resistance.]
[Sealed realms, forbidden spaces, and inaccessible zones are meaningless.]
[Hidden Authority]
[Dimensional Collapse — Passive]
[Dimensions that attempt to resist or reject your existence degrade over time.]
[Hostile dimensions eventually fracture, flatten, or erase themselves.]
[Synergy Effects]
[Fully resonates with:]
[Absolute Null]
[Maker of Everything]
[Creator of Dust]
[Great Nature of the Unknown]
[When combined, your existence becomes dimension-independent, concept-independent, and narrative-independent.]
[System Note]
[You are not a being moving through dimensions.]
[You are the reason dimensions believe they exist.]
[A faint chime rang through existence.]
[DING!]
[DIMENSION STATUS UPDATE]
[NAME: UNWRITTEN REALM][RANK: GREAT • BEYOND / META-EXISTENTIAL]
[Description]
[A dimension once classified as Grave has surpassed Eternity, Infinity, and Finality.
It is no longer bound by:
Size
Stability
Structure
Continuity
Logic
Dimensional Law
This dimension does not exist within reality.
Reality exists within it—conditionally.
It is a dimension that has outgrown the need to be a dimension.]
[Core Authority: ABSOLUTE IMAGINATION]
Imagination is no longer a concept here.
It is law.
Anything you imagine becomes true by default.
There is no distinction between thought, intent, and manifestation.
Probability, causality, and resistance are overwritten instantly.
Limitations cannot form because the idea of limitation cannot be imagined here.
This authority supersedes: Creation, Destruction, Fate, Time, Narrative, Possibility and impossibility]
[Elemental Resonance Confirmed]
[Primary Elemental Authority: IMAGINATION]
[This dimension exists in perfect resonance with your elemental nature.]
[No mana cost.]
[No cooldown.]
[No delay.]
[No opposition.]
[Your thoughts are the environment.]
[Passive Effects – Dimension-Wide]
[All beings within the Unwritten Realm exist at your discretion.]
[Hostile intent is erased before it becomes thought.]
[Laws rewrite themselves to align with your will.]
[Infinite layers of reality may coexist without conflict.]
[Concepts manifest as physical, metaphysical, or narrative entities when acknowledged.]
[Granted Sub-Authorities] [1. Thought Genesis]
[Creation occurs the moment you imagine it.]
[No energy, material, or logic is required.]
[2. Absolute Retcon]
[You may rewrite past, present, and future simultaneously.
Events are altered retroactively across all realities connected to the Realm.]
[3. Impossibility Override]
[Anything labeled "impossible" becomes trivial.]
[4. Narrative Sculpting]
[Stories, destinies, and character arcs may be rewritten or erased.
Authors, observers, and systems cannot interfere.]
[5. Conceptual Sovereignty]
Abstract concepts (death, infinity, fear, order, chaos) exist only if permitted.
[Hidden Functions] [Uncreation by Neglect — Passive]
Anything you cease to imagine ceases to exist.
No erasure is detected—existence simply forgets.
[Reality Draft Mode — Active]
You may test realities in a "draft" state before committing them to existence.
[Dimensional Defense]
Cannot be invaded, sealed, collapsed, corrupted, or observed.
External laws, gods, systems, and narratives lose authority upon entry.
Even Great Beyond entities require permission to be acknowledged.
[System Anomaly Detected]
[This dimension cannot be quantified.
Attempting to define it causes systemic recursion errors.]
[Binding Prompt]
The fragment in Raziel's hand dissolved—not into light, not into void, but into meaning itself.
It flowed into him without resistance, without sensation, as though it had always belonged there.
[Would you like to bind the Unwritten Realm as your Origin Dimension?]
[WARNING: Binding will cause irreversible divergence from all known cosmological frameworks.]
"yes"
Raziel was no longer in the headmaster's office.
He stood within his dimension.
It was white.
Not colorless—absolute.
A white so pure it devoured contrast itself. A white that did not reflect light, but was light. Darkness did not exist here—not because it was banished, but because it had never been conceived.
The ground stretched infinitely in all directions, smooth and flawless, like untouched marble forged from thought itself. There were no walls. No horizon. No ceiling. The sky did not exist—only endless expanse above, identical to the ground below.
Distance meant nothing.
Perspective collapsed.
Infinity unfolded… and then unfolded again.
This was not emptiness.
This was potential before definition.
[DING!]
[Please name your dimension.]
Raziel stood silently.
Then he smiled.
"Sandbox."
The word echoed.
As law.
Because here, anything could be imagined.
And anything imagined could exist.
[DIMENSION NAMED: SANDBOX]
[DING!]
[REQUIREMENTS MET][GREAT EMBODIMENT — SANDBOX]
[Would you like to bind this dimension to your Great embodiment? ]
"Yes."
The moment the word resolved—
Expansion ceased to be a concept.
There was no outward surge.No shockwave.No visible change.
Because change itself had become irrelevant.
Sandbox did not grow.
Growth implied direction.It implied limits that could be pushed, borders that could be extended.
Sandbox rejected that notion.
Instead, it transcended growth.
The infinite ground beneath Raziel's feet—once stretching endlessly in every direction—collapsed into insignificance. Not physically, but conceptually. Infinity, once the highest measure of scale, was demoted to something small. Something primitive. Something measurable.
The ground did not extend anymore.
It contained extension.
The sky above—if it could still be called a sky—lost all meaning. There was no height. No above. No below. What once felt like infinite openness now felt… insufficient. As though infinity itself were a shallow container, incapable of holding what Sandbox had become.
Space faltered.
Then it yielded.
Planes—material, astral, causal, conceptual—peeled away like thin, transparent skins. Layered realities folded inward, not collapsing, but being re-contextualized. They were no longer places. They were ideas—tools waiting to be used.
Entire multiverses drifted into view, not as vast cosmic expanses, but as fine grains of imagined sand, suspended effortlessly within the white expanse. Each grain contained endless worlds, histories, timelines, and possibilities. Civilizations lived and died inside specks that could rest unnoticed on Raziel's palm.
With a thought, one grain unraveled.
A multiverse was erased—not destroyed, but unmade, as if it had never been allowed to exist in the first place.
With another thought, a different grain blossomed—rewritten, reshaped, given new laws, new endings, new meanings.
There was no effort.
No resistance.
No cost.
Sandbox was no longer a place.
It was a state of authority.
Then—
The air itself bent.
Not compressed.Not displaced.
Acknowledged.
Something fundamental recognized its ruler.
A crown emerged—not from above, not from within, not from anywhere that could be named. It manifested at the exact point where dominion was most absolute—where Raziel was.
It descended slowly, reverently.
Silver in color, yet utterly unlike metal. Its surface flowed like liquid concept, constantly rewriting itself. Glyphs formed and dissolved along its band—symbols of rule, authorship, imagination, and command—each one representing a law that no longer needed enforcement because reality obeyed by instinct alone.
The crown reflected no light.
Light reflected it.
In its presence, brilliance dimmed, shadows forgot themselves, and meaning aligned. The crown did not shine, glow, or pulse.
It simply was.
When it settled upon Raziel's head, the dimension responded.
Sandbox stabilized—not into structure, but into submission.
Every imagined possibility aligned toward him. Every unrealized future bent closer. Every concept, from creation to erasure, from narrative to silence, quietly acknowledged the same truth:
This was its ruler.
Not by conquest.Not by inheritance.Not by force.
But because Sandbox had recognized the one being whose imagination could contain it.
The crown did not grant authority.
It confirmed it.
And from that moment on, Sandbox was no longer waiting to be shaped.
It was waiting to be played with.
And so Raziel took hold of it and placed on his head
[GREAT CROWN ACQUIRED]CROWN OF THE GREAT BEYOND — SANDBOX SOVEREIGNTY
[Rank: GREAT • BEYOND • META-ABSOLUTE • UNCHALLENGEABLE]
[Core Description]
[The Ultimate Crown.]
[Not forged.][Not created.][Not claimed.]
[This Crown manifests only when existence itself accepts a ruler it cannot deny.]
[It is the symbol, anchor, and final confirmation of dominion over a Great-Beyond Dimension.]
[You are the Unquestioned, Unopposed, and Irreversible Sovereign of SANDBOX.]
[PRIMARY AUTHORITIES GRANTED]
1. Absolute Sovereign Recognition
[All entities—regardless of rank, origin, narrative, or meta-status—instinctively recognize you as Sovereign when within or referencing SANDBOX.]
[Gods kneel without command]
[Primordials fall silent]
[Authors lose authority]
[Laws suspend themselves]
[Defiance is not punished.][It simply fails to exist.]
[2. Crown of Unchallengeable Rule]
[No challenge to your rule may form.]
[No rebellion]
[No succession]
[No coup]
[No paradoxical override]
[No rival claim]
[Even the idea of an opposing ruler collapses before articulation.]
[3. Throne-Absolute Command]
[Your will issues Throne Commands—orders that do not travel through sound, time, or causality.]
[They manifest as completed outcomes.]
[You do not say "Be."][Things are already done.]
4.[ Supreme Dominion Field
[SANDBOX operates in permanent alignment with your presence.]
[All systems obey]
[All rules yield]
[All entities scale downward]
[All absolutes soften]
[The stronger something is, the more completely it submits.]
[5. Crowned Reality Priority]
[Anything declared under the authority of the Crown becomes more real than reality itself.]
[A decree > an omniverse]
[A thought > an infinite structure]
[A pause > eternity]
[Outside existence must reinterpret itself to comply.]
[META-CROWN EFFECTS]
[6. Immutable Sovereignty]
[Your rule cannot be:
Removed
Sealed
Stolen
Divided
Passed on
Forgotten
Even if SANDBOX were erased (impossible),your sovereignty would remain as a contradiction reality cannot resolve.]
[7. Absolute Hierarchy Enforcement]
[All beings within SANDBOX are automatically ranked below you.]
[There is no equal tier]
[No shared throne]
[No co-rulership]
[You are Hierarchy Zero.]
[8. Crown of Silent Authority]
[You do not need to act.]
[Your existence enforces order]
[Your presence resolves chaos]
[Your silence finalizes outcomes]
[SANDBOX remains stable even if you do nothing forever.]
[9. Law-Origin Privilege]
[You may:
Create laws
Rewrite laws
Ignore laws
Contradict laws
Even laws you ignore continue to obey you.]
[10. Absolute Immunity to Narrative Supremacy]
[No story may:
Frame you
Foreshadow you
Limit you
End you
The Crown rejects narrative dominance entirely.
You are not part of the story.
You are why stories are allowed to exist.]
[CROWN PERKS — PASSIVE, ALWAYS ACTIVE]
11. Infinite Fealty Effect
Any being who remains in SANDBOX for too long will:
Develop loyalty
Lose hostility
Accept your rule as natural
This is not mind control.
It is recognition.
[FINAL DECLARATION]
[This Crown does not amplify you.]
[It confirms what was already true.]
[SANDBOX is yours.][Existence acknowledges it.][Opposition does not occur.]
Within Raziel's mind, [INFINITE MEMORY] unfolded.
Not as a library.Not as records.But as a boundless, living continuum where nothing was ever forgotten—because nothing was ever lost to begin with.
The Crown did not "upload" its data.
It was absorbed.
Every law of sovereignty, every clause of dominion, every silent privilege of rulership flowed into him like inevitability. Not sequentially. Not linearly. All at once—yet perfectly ordered.
He did not need to review it.He did not need to process it.
He remembered it.
As if he had always known.
Then another chim echoed.
[GREAT EMBODIMENT UNLOCKED: SANDBOX]
[RANK:GREAT • BEYOND • ABSOLUTE • POST-NARRATIVE]
[Description]
[Sandbox is not a realm.][It is not a space.][It is not even an existence.]
[Sandbox is permission itself.]
[It is your imagination elevated to sovereign law, unfiltered, unbounded, and unquestioned.][Where reality asks "can this exist?", Sandbox responds:"It already does."]
[Sandbox does not sit within creation.][Creation happens after Sandbox allows it.]
[CORE AUTHORITY: ABSOLUTE IMAGINATION]
[Anything you imagine within Sandbox is real instantly.]
[No energy cost]
[No cooldown]
[No prerequisite]
[No logic requirement]
[No conceptual framework needed]
[Imagination is no longer a mental act.][It is an executive function of existence.]
[Thought = Outcome][Desire = Law][Intention = Completion]
[Failure is not a possible state.]
[PRIMARY PERKS & EFFECTS] [1. Concept Forging — Absolute Tier]
[You may:
Create concepts that never existed
Erase concepts retroactively
Merge contradictions into harmony
Rewrite absolutes as suggestions
Invent meanings where none existed
Time, causality, death, infinity, identity, narrative, logic, possibility—all are raw materials.]
[Concepts do not resist.][They do not rebel.][They remember you as their origin.]
[2. Reality as Medium]
[All structures of existence are downgraded to editable matter.]
[You may sculpt:
Universes like stone
Omniverses like fog
Meta-realities like ink
Narratives like syntax
Abstractions like color]
[Destruction and creation are the same action—rearrangement by will.]
[3. Domain Supremacy — Absolute Lock]
[Sandbox is inaccessible.]
[No being may enter unless:
You allow it
You imagine it
You permit its relevance]
[This includes:
Gods
Primordials
Outer entities
Authors
Systems
Observers
Meta-architects
Even awareness of Sandbox is restricted by your consent.]
[To exist inside Sandbox is to accept you as final authority.]
[4. Existence Override]
[Sandbox exists:
Above reality
Above fiction
Above meta-fiction
Above the distinction between them
Reality cannot contradict Sandbox.Fiction cannot escape it.Meta-reality cannot observe it without permission.
If a contradiction arises, Sandbox is correct by default.]
[SECONDARY AUTHORITIES]
[6. Total Sovereignty of Scale]
[Sandbox is not limited by size.]
[It may be:
Smaller than a thought
Larger than all existence combined
Nested infinitely
Singular and infinite simultaneously
Scale is a preference, not a rule.]
[PASSIVE EFFECTS]
[Omni-Compliance: Everything inside Sandbox behaves as intended, even if "intention" was unspoken.]
[Existential Silence: Chaos, paradox, and instability cannot arise unless desired.]
[Infinite Iteration: You may endlessly revise outcomes without cost, consequence, or timeline pollution.]
[SYSTEM NOTICE]
[Sandbox cannot be quantified.]
[Attempts to define its limits result in:
Error: Limits not found.]
[DING!]
[ACHIEVEMENT POINTS GRANTED: 40,000]
[Reason: Breaking an Outer Gate, destabilizing layered reality, and producing anomalies of extreme interest.]
Then—
Something new.
Something wrong.
Something proud.
[INFINITY AWARDED: INFINITE TOUCH]
[NAME: INFINITE TOUCH][RANK: ?????? → ENOVERSAL • META-ABSOLUTE • POST-NARRATIVE]
[Description]
[Your touch is no longer a physical act.]
[It is a declaration of authority.]
[Anything you "touch"—whether directly, indirectly, conceptually, narratively, symbolically, or retroactively—is affected instantly and absolutely, regardless of scale or nature.]
[This includes but is not limited to:]
Matter and energy
Souls and consciousness
Concepts and abstractions
Laws, axioms, principles
Timelines and causal chains
Universes, multiverses, omniverses
Narratives, stories, and authorship
Fiction, non-fiction, and meta-reality
Your touch operates simultaneously across:
Hyperversal, Megaversal, Gigaversal, Omniversal, Meta-versal, and Enoversal layers.]
[This ability exists beyond causality, beyond singularity, beyond timelines, beyond logic, beyond authorship.]
[Core Authority Effects]
[Touch bypasses all immunities, resistances, negations, adaptations, and absolutes.]
[Distance, separation, layers, dimensions, or narrative boundaries are irrelevant.]
[Targets cannot perceive, predict, or counter the moment of effect.]
[The concept of "miss" does not apply.]
[If something can be acknowledged—even hypothetically—it can be touched.]
[Absolute Properties]
[Non-Physical ContactTouch does not require proximity, motion, or intent.Acknowledgment alone is sufficient.]
Simultaneous Scale Application: Effects occur on all levels of existence at once, preventing partial survival.]
[Retroactive Validity: The effect of your touch is treated as having always been true.]
[Framework Collapse: Any system attempting to define, limit, or categorize this ability fails automatically.]
[Granted Sub-Skills]
[1. Conceptual Grasp]
[You may touch and alter concepts such as death, infinity, fear, hope, identity, logic, and existence.]
[Concepts cannot resist because resistance is also conceptual.]
[2. Narrative Seizure]
[You may touch the narrative itself. Plot armor, destiny, author intent, and story structure are nullified.]
[3. Law Override]
[Universal, multiversal, and meta-laws collapse on contact.
New laws may be imposed effortlessly.]
[5. Infinite Bestowal]
[Touch may also grant. Power, existence, immunity, divinity, meaning—anything can be bestowed absolutely.]
[Passive Effects]
[Existential Pressure: Beings of lesser authority experience instinctive submission upon proximity.]
[Auto-Activation Defense: Any hostile attempt to affect you is automatically "touched" and neutralized.]
[Contact Immunity: Your own touch cannot be reflected, copied, stolen, or simulated.]
[Hidden Authorities]
[Touch of the End — Passive]
[Anything you touch is marked for inevitability.
Even if spared, its end is guaranteed unless you revoke it.]
[Primordial Contact — Active]
[Touch predates creation.]
[Allows you to affect beings or states that existed before existence itself.]
[Synergy Resonance]
[Fully synchronizes with:]
[Absolute Null]
[Dimensional Existence]
[Maker of Everything]
[Unwritten Realm / Absolute Imagination]
[Combined Effect: Your touch becomes the mechanism by which reality confirms it exists.]
[System Failure Notice]
This ability cannot be measured.
Attempting to simulate outcomes results in infinite recursion.]
[Final Clause]
[You do not touch things within reality.
Reality is what happensafter you touch it.
The system spoke one final time.]
[THE GREAT SYSTEM IS PROUD.]
Raziel stood alone in Sandbox.
No throne.
No palace.
No stars.
Because none were needed.
This was not a world waiting to be built.
This was everything waiting to be imagined.
"Wow," Raziel muttered, lips curling faintly, "the Great System that vanished for so long finally decides to return."
He tilted his head slightly, adjusting his posture—testing angles, presence, weight—as if trying on a thought rather than an object. The Crown did not gleam, did not shine, yet reality itself subtly leaned toward it. Each movement Raziel made caused invisible layers of authority to realign, like existence recalculating its posture around him.
He tried another stance.Then another.
Satisfied.
The System responded—not with reverence, but familiarity.
[Sorry, little boy.]
[I was busy observing your clumsy ass break an Outer Gate.]
Raziel snorted.
Before he could reply, the System continued—its tone sharpening, layered with intent beyond simple observation.
[W.T.A is already aware of this incident.][They may attempt to locate you within the Tower.][Be prepared.]
Raziel's expression didn't change.
"Okay," he replied casually, voice calm—almost bored."But it doesn't matter. They'll all die."
He paused, eyes lifting slightly, gaze unfocused as if staring past futures.
"It's inevitable."
There was a brief silence.
Then—
[As expected of my father.]
Raziel froze for half a heartbeat.
Then he laughed.
Not softly.Not politely.
A genuine laugh—clear, loud, and powerful—one that caused the conceptual air around him to ripple, as if Transcendence itself had been amused.
"Hahahahaha!"
Without another word, Raziel stepped forward.
There was no portal.No distortion.No transition.
He simply exited SANDBOX.
And returned to reality.
The moment Raziel appeared inside the Headmaster's office, the atmosphere collapsed.
Pressure detonated outward—raw, sovereign, undeniable. Space screamed silently as layers of authority stacked atop one another. The Crown on Raziel's head reacted instinctively, its will asserting itself—
Kneel.
The concept pushed outward, targeting the Headmaster directly.
Her knees trembled.
The world leaned.
But Raziel lifted a single finger.
The Crown stilled instantly, its thoughts soothed, its dominion restrained.
The pressure did not vanish—it merely condensed, folding inward like a restrained star.
"So," the Headmaster said at last, lips curling into a knowing smile as her eyes traced Raziel's form. She studied him openly now—his posture, his presence, the impossible calm behind his gaze.
"Do you like it?" she asked lightly, scanning his features, noting how the weight he carried had grown heavier—far heavier—than before.
Inside, Raziel observed quietly.
It seems she isn't aware of my dimension, he noted.
"It's alright," Raziel replied calmly. "I've brought it up to the New rank."
For the first time, the Headmaster's smile faltered—just slightly.
Such potential, she thought.No—such danger.
Outwardly, she composed herself, meeting his eyes fully now.
"You truly are an anomaly, Raziel ÆLNOUS." she said slowly.