The contrast was stark. In most servers, the Orcs had emerged victorious, their might was unquestioned, their dominion absolute. Entire battlefields had been soaked in blood, yet here—on Raziel's server—the Goblins had triumphed. The memory of defeat for the Orcs lingered like a shadow, yet it was entirely irrelevant in this domain. Raziel's presence had ensured victory, rewriting the outcome of the war in his favor.
Every gaze seemed to linger on them, curiosity and awe rippling through the crowd. No one knew what happened in their server but they could feel it-their glory and dominion.
The same administrator of the Tower appeared again, her presence undeniable,
She was impossibly graceful, yet carried the weight of immortality. She descended slowly, each motion deliberate, as if time itself bent around her. Her form shimmered like a mirage, simultaneously tangible and intangible—flesh and light, matter and concept.
A golden blindfold covered her eyes, smooth and flawless, reflecting nothing yet holding everything. It suggested impartiality, absolute judgment, and a sense that she saw far more than any mortal could comprehend. Though her eyes were hidden, her presence commanded recognition of omniscience itself.
Her hair was as if woven from the threads of fate and outcome itself. Golden, pure and absolutely made to perfection.
Her wings extended outward in vast arcs. They were ethereal silver, but not ordinary silver—each feather appeared semi-translucent, layered with glimmering patterns that shifted subtly with each angle of observation. Some feathers seemed solid, others dissipated into shimmering particles that hung in the air, caught between existence and illusion. Light and shadow played across her wings, but neither obeyed the laws of reality. They were both real and artificial, divine constructs of form meant to impress, intimidate, and awe simultaneously.
Her body was slender, perfect in symmetry, yet not human. Limbs stretched with fluid elegance; joints curved at angles that were almost impossible, giving her a sense of supernatural grace. Her skin glimmered faintly, like polished marble veined with starlight, yet it moved and flexed with lifelike warmth.
A faint chim scuttled across the cold, metallic surfaces of the safe zone, a tiny sound swallowed immediately by the vast silence that had descended.
[AN INCIDENT HAS OCCURRED]
[ESAU YAMAZAKI HAS BECOME AN OMEGA]
[ESAU YAMAZAKI RULES ALL SERVERS OF FLOOR 1]
[BOW YOUR HEADS IN THE PRESENCE OF THE ABSOLUTE ONE]
The announcement rippled across the safe zone like a shockwave. Every figure present bowed immediately, faces lowered in reverence, awe, and fear. Every posture screamed submission—everywhere except three defiant souls. Raziel, as usual, remained unmoved, his gaze sharp and unreadable.
Shingen Yamazaki stepped forward, jaw clenched, eyes narrowed. Disgust and disbelief painted his expression as he surveyed Esau, then flicked a doubtful glance toward the administrator.
"You must bow," the administrator said, her voice slicing through the tension, cold and absolute. Her eyes narrowed, the glint of authority in them sharper than any blade. "Everybody exists here only because of The King."
"Even I, an Administrator, must bow to the Ruler of this domain, for even I am vulnerable," she said
Shingen felt the air itself shift, as though the very essence of the safe zone had warped around her words. The pressure was immediate, overwhelming—so absolute that even his will bent under its weight. He fell to his knees, then lowered his face flat to the ground. It was an involuntary act, a submission not of choice but of inevitability.
The other two who had dared remain upright hesitated. Silence draped over them, broken only by soft snickers, restrained laughter, and some hiding their amusement behind closed lips. Every eye was on them, judgmental, measuring.
Klein Von Valereith, (Praise be to the Fool).Heir to the Primordial Family, finally stepped forward, his posture rigid, every inch of his presence radiating authority. "I demand that you release him," he said, voice sharp and controlled, "unless you wish the wrath of the Primordial Family to befall you."
The administrator tilted her head, eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh… a petty boy wielding daddy's influence dares to speak back. Pathetic." Her gaze shifted, lingering on Shingen as if weighing him, testing his response. "Even if I wished to comply, I was permitted by The King to release my [PRESSURE]. I require his command again."
Klein's glare snapped toward Esau, a silent warning laced with deathless intent—an heir staring down the one who could end him in a heartbeat.
"Release the pressure," Esau commanded, voice calm, yet resonant with authority that made even the administrator hesitate for a heartbeat.
Her eyes flickered with curiosity, then compliance. Slowly, the crushing weight of her presence lifted, and the air seemed to breathe again.
Shingen rose, clutching at his neck, though his body remained controlled, every motion precise. Humiliation burned like fire under his skin, the laughter and sneers of others piercing sharper than any blade. His pride had been shredded, yet there was nothing he could do—he could not strike, could not retaliate.
He walked back to his group with measured steps, every muscle tense, every nerve screaming with contained fury. Inside, a storm raged. Outside, he maintained the mask of composure, every detail of his posture screaming restraint, a silent vow that every slight, every sneer, would be remembered.
The administrator's eyes returned to Esau, her expression now one of cautious curiosity, as if the Omega before her was something she had never fully anticipated. And for the first time, even in this hall of power and reverence, Esau seemed untouchable.
Klein's eyes locked onto Esau with the predatory intensity of a hunter sizing up its prey. 'So what if he became an Omega?' He thought. 'He's still scared. He's still human beneath all that power.'
But Esau's gaze remained calm, unreadable. He had not yielded out of fear, nor was he intimidated. His silence, his patience, was deliberate—his plan for Shingen and Klein was already in motion, ready to strike at the perfect moment. Very soon, everything would unfold.
Raziel let out a soft, knowing giggle, his amusement quiet but sharp. He savoured the anticipation, the thrill of watching the terror, the fear, the inevitable pain that would wash over them once Esau's plan took hold.
The Administrator's voice cut through the charged air, precise and commanding. "You have all cleared your server."
A murmur of subdued excitement spread through the crowd. Then she continued, her tone now formal and expectant, "It is now time to view the results. Only the top seven will be displayed. These are the strongest among all servers."
Without another word, a colossal interface shimmered into existence, hovering like a building-sized hologram above the safe zone. The light it cast illuminated every face, every expression, as the rankings of the transcenders appeared with meticulous clarity:
[ TRANSCENDER RANKING ]
[Rank] [Name] [Points]
[1st] [Raziel ÆLNOÛS] [1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000]
[2nd] [Esau Yamazaki] [765,000,000,000]
[3rd] [Klein Von Valereith] [910,234,345]
[4th] [Shingen Yamazaki] [909,671,987]
[5th] [Lumina Arroz] [678,767,677]
[6th] [Kaelen Veyris] [309,982,763]
[7th] [Elyana Thandor] [307,827,927]
Gasps, whispers, and the low hum of awe spread through the observers. Esau's name glimmered in bold, commanding respect without a single action. Klein's jaw tightened, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his sharp features. Shingen's eyes burned with suppressed fury, every nerve screaming at the humiliation of being ranked beneath Esau.
Raziel's smile widened, barely perceptible, as he leaned back slightly. The imbalance, the tension, the subtle shifts in power—it was all setting the stage perfectly. Soon, the game would begin, and the ones who thought they were untouchable would learn exactly what it meant to face the Absolute.
The Administrator's voice brought everyone back to attention, clear and unwavering. "These are your champions. Remember their names. Learn from them. And prepare yourselves, for the next phase approaches swiftly."
Screams erupted from the crowd, not with jealousy or complaints about their own rankings, but with raw, unfiltered awe for the strongest among them. Every cheer, every shout, was a tribute to those who had proven themselves beyond measure.
"Lumina Arroz! The daughter of Time and Space! Praise be to her!" one voice rang out, followed by another, "She went to THE ACADEMY! Can you even imagine?"
Hands rose across the crowd in adoration, as if trying to touch the aura of greatness that radiated from her name. Lumina Arroz—the Daughter of Selestine Arroz, saintess of the Goddess of Time, Space, and Effect—was a vision both breathtaking and terrifying.
Lumina Arroz was the very embodiment of cold, dazzling perfection. Her long, white hair cascaded like silk over her shoulders, catching the light with every movement, framing a face as sharp and flawless as a sculptor's masterpiece. Her eyes were icy, piercing, and impossible to look away from, radiating both intellect and lethal confidence.
Her form was equally striking: tall and slender, yet every curve was deliberate, a harmony of strength and sensuality. Her chest was full and sculpted, tapering seamlessly into a narrow waist before flaring into hips that hinted at power and grace. Her thighs were long, toned, and commanding, giving her an effortless elegance whether she moved or stood still. Even her behind, rounded and firm, seemed to move with purpose, completing the image of a body that was at once deadly, seductive, and utterly untouchable.
Every step she took was a display of poise and control, each motion accentuating the perfect lines of her body, drawing the gaze of anyone who dared look. She was a goddess in both presence and form—terrifying, intoxicating, and impossible to ignore.
She moved with the elegance of a model, a perfect symbol of beauty and power intertwined, and if she desired, she could easily assume the role of the next Snow White in legend or myth. Every gesture, every glance, carried the weight of someone untouchable.
"Kaelen Veyris!" someone shouted, Kaelen Veyris carried the quiet authority of noble birth. His hair was a deep, dark brown, kept neat and precise, while his eyes—warm amber with a subtle golden hue—seemed to measure everything with calm intelligence. He was tall and lean, with a posture that spoke of discipline and refinement. Every movement was controlled, graceful, and confident, reflecting both his heritage and his personal strength. His presence commanded respect without needing to shout, a silent reminder of his status and capability.
"Oh my gosh… it's Shingen Yamazaki!" the crowd gasped as his name appeared. "Seventh in line to the throne of the most powerful God of the Tower. He almost tied with Klein! As expected of the heir of Transcendence itself!"
Shingen stood like the embodiment of a perfect warrior, a figure carved to symbolise both strength and elegance. His hair was jet black, falling in slightly tousled strands that framed his sharp, commanding face. His eyes were a piercing blue, as clear and expansive as the morning sky, but they held an intensity that betrayed his unyielding will and sharp intellect. Those eyes could inspire loyalty, fear, or admiration—sometimes all at once.
He was tall, standing at six foot three, with broad shoulders that hinted at immense physical power without the need for display. His lean, muscular build was honed for agility and precision, every movement measured, controlled, and effortlessly graceful. Shingen's presence alone drew attention; even without speaking, he radiated authority and latent danger.
His attire was practical yet refined: a fitted combat tunic that allowed freedom of movement, adorned with subtle markings of his lineage. A long, flowing coat trailed behind him, shifting like a living shadow, giving him an almost otherworldly aura. The combination of dark garments with his piercing eyes made him appear both regal and intimidating, a natural symbol of power.
Shingen's demeanor was calm, almost unnervingly so, as though nothing in the world could truly surprise him. Yet beneath that composed exterior simmered an inner fire—rage, pride, and ambition—tightly controlled, ready to erupt at a moment's notice. Those who underestimated him often found themselves overwhelmed by the sheer force of his presence.
Yet, in Raziel's eyes, he was nothing more than a lesser existence, a shadow beneath the absolute.
"Klein Von Valereith—the heir of the Primordial Family!" others shouted in reverence, voices rising in unison.
Klein Von Valereith stood with the effortless composure of someone born to command attention, every movement precise, every posture a study in aristocratic elegance. His hair was a deep, royal purple, cascading just past his shoulders in smooth, controlled waves, shimmering subtly as if imbued with an inner light. From afar, his eyes appeared gray—cold, unfeeling, distant—but those who dared look closer saw something far more profound. His gaze was like condensed time itself: infinite, layered, and eternal, a prism of knowledge and experience that seemed to peer not just into the present, but into every possible future.
His features were sharp, sculpted as if carved by a master artist: high cheekbones, a straight nose, and lips that could convey both disdain and amusement in a single twitch. His skin was pale, almost porcelain-like, with the faintest hint of warmth that betrayed his life beneath the surface.
Klein's frame was lean yet strong, built not for raw combat but for control and precision—every muscle perfectly balanced, every movement graceful and deliberate. His attire was as imposing as his presence: robes of deep violet trimmed with silver, symbols of his family and his rank embroidered meticulously across the fabric. A subtle glow seemed to cling to him, not from magic, but from the sheer authority and aura of power he radiated.
Even standing silently, Klein dominated the space around him. Those nearby felt the weight of his existence—an heir not just to a noble house, but to an ancient legacy of power and transcendence. He was not merely beautiful; he was terrifyingly elegant, the kind of presence that demanded reverence, caution, and an instinctive acknowledgment of superiority.
The crowd continued to cheer, admiration echoing in every corner, until their attention finally drifted upward—to Esau Yamazaki.
Esau Yamazaki stood as a vision of absolute power and divine authority. Towering at 7 feet, his form's both muscular and agile—a perfect fusion of strength, flexibility, and lethal precision. His long, golden hair flowed like liquid sunlight, radiant enough to rival the sun itself, each strand shimmering with the faint glow of countless stars.
His eyes, icy and piercing, reflect a void deeper than nothingness, a gaze that seems to see through time, space, and the very fabric of reality. One look is enough to instil awe—or terror—depending on who meets them. Paling the colour of Shingen's eyes
From his back extend twelve immense wings, six original and six additional after his Omega ascension. Each feather pulsed with cosmic energy, flickering with colors that shift like galaxies and black holes intertwined, a living testament to his mastery over multiple concepts and domains.
Esau's armour is forged from the hands of Creation itself: plates that shimmer with the light of stars, the darkness of voids, and the subtle glow of distant realms. It moulds perfectly to his form, both protective and ethereal, as if reality itself bends around him. Every detail radiates regality, strength, and otherworldly elegance.
Seven hundred sixty-five billion points.
A stunned silence followed, broken only by whispers of disbelief.
"Seven hundred sixty-five billion points?!" someone muttered, eyes wide in shock. "That's insane! In all of the Tower's history, ten billion points alone was considered extraordinary… but seven hundred sixty-five billion? No one can reach that far!"
"Did he… really kill everyone on his side?" another voice asked, trembling.
"How is that… trash… ranked second? This is abnormal!" someone else stammered, fear and awe warring in their voice.
Esau's victory was not the product of careful strategy or manipulation. He had faced every opponent, point-blank, massacring all without hesitation. Many of those who had earned points relied on cunning tactics or avoidance; he had relied on pure, unadulterated dominance. Some observers, uncertain or fearful of his abilities, bowed instinctively, acknowledging the terrifying power of an Omega—a being who transcended even the Gods themselves. For most, Omegas were almost mythical, beings spoken of in hushed whispers or dismissed as legend. Yet here, he existed, undeniable and absolute.
Then all eyes turned upward once more—to Raziel. Raziel's face is otherworldly and flawless, perfectly balanced between divine elegance and quiet authority. His skin is pale and luminous, untouched by time. Long, silver-white hair flows weightlessly around him like liquid moonlight. His eyes are black-red, layered with infinite rings and scattered lights, resembling entire universes. The tunic beneath was sleek, form-fitting, yet unlike any mortal tailoring. It seemed sculpted from an invisible alloy of energy and thought, its surface inscribed with a subtle, infinite spiral pattern—a sigil known as "The One Above All", a symbol of boundless authority, Inevitability, and finality. The spirals shifted with each movement, looping over themselves in an eternal coil, as if time itself bowed to his presence. The pants were equally surreal, formed from the same living energy as the cloak. The Shoes left no footprint, yet seemed to tether him to every plane of existence simultaneously. Every step he took rippled across reality, a subtle distortion that reminded all who looked upon him that he was not bound by laws. Finally, a crown-like circlet hovered just above his head, not resting on his brow but orbiting in a slow, deliberate rotation. Its surface mirrored the night sky, with stars appearing and vanishing in real-time, constellations of unknown worlds shimmering across it. At the centre of the circlet glowed a core of impossible light—an eye of infinity that symbolized both the beginning and the end of all things.
One sextillion points.
The number was incomprehensible: 1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000. A sextillion. The sheer scale of it made the Tower seem small, meaningless. Gasps, murmurs, and sudden silence swept through the crowd. How could one mortal—or god, or transcender—accumulate such power?
Klein's lips parted, disbelief etched across his features. "There's… no way."
Turning sharply, he addressed the Administrator, voice edged with urgency and incredulity. "Do you know anything about this?"
The Administrator's gaze met his, calm, unwavering, and impossibly knowing. "Yes," she said, her voice soft but carrying the weight of inevitability. Every syllable made the onlookers shiver, as if the very air around them had thickened with the presence of something far beyond comprehension.
She began to speak, her voice calm yet carrying the weight of unshakable authority. "There are fifty-one floors in the Tower," she said.
"What? I thought there were fifty," someone interrupted, disbelief coloring their tone.
The Administrator's gaze swept over them, patient yet unyielding. "No," she corrected firmly. "There are fifty floors—but the fifty-first floor is not like the others. It is known as Floor 0, and very few of you are even aware of its existence. It is here, on Floor 0, that the First VERSE is kept. Where your precious planet is."
"Verse… what's that?" another voice asked, curiosity tinged with confusion.
"You will understand as you climb the Tower," she replied, her eyes glinting with something unspoken, a hint of mystery that made the air itself feel heavier.
A hushed awe fell over the crowd as she continued. "Floor 0 contains an infinite number of matters, energies, and worlds. Each layer within it holds an infinite number of entities, structures, and dimensions, stacked upon one another like a cosmic hierarchy of creation. Listen carefully."
Her voice rose slightly, resonant with power as the enormity of the Tower's structure unfolded before them:
"The first layer contains an infinite number of civilizations, each thriving, each struggling, each unknowable in its scale. Resting upon it is the second layer: an infinite number of worlds, vast and teeming with life, energy, and possibility. Upon these worlds rests the third layer: an infinite number of dimensions, each with its own rules, its own reality. The fourth layer is comprised of an infinite number of systems—collections of dimensions, condensed into singularities of order and chaos alike."
The crowd leaned forward, eyes wide, hearts racing.
"The fifth layer holds an infinite number of universes, and above that, the sixth layer contains an infinite number of multiverses. The seventh layer rises into an infinite number of Gigaverses, upon which sit the eighth layer of infinite Metaverses. Above these, the ninth layer holds an infinite number of Hyperverses, the tenth an infinite number of Omniverses, the eleventh an infinite number of Enoverses, and the twelfth—an infinite number of Xenoverses. Beyond these lie the seven Narrative Layers, and above all of them, the First Beyond."
A silence fell. No one breathed for a moment, as the magnitude of what they were hearing sank into their minds. The incomprehensible scale of creation—layer upon layer, infinite upon infinite—made their achievements, their powers, their lives, seem minuscule in comparison.
She let the silence stretch, letting the weight of knowledge settle. Then, her voice dropped to a quieter, sharper note, as if revealing a secret that should have been impossible to comprehend.
"As for why Raziel possesses a sextillion points…" she paused, letting their anticipation grow, "…he erased the third layer. It cannot be repaired. But the ABSOLUTE TOWER OF OUTER REALITIES will create more."
Murmurs spread like wildfire. The third layer—the infinite number of dimensions—was the foundation of countless worlds, countless realities. To erase it was to commit an act beyond comprehension, to obliterate infinity itself.
The crowd's awe twisted into terror, a cold and reverent dread settling into their bones. Some sank to their knees, bowing instinctively, unsure whether they were witnessing triumph or a force that could unmake them entirely. Others stared, wide-eyed, struggling to process the scale, the audacity, the sheer impossibility of what she had just revealed.
The Administrator's eyes swept over them once more, steady, untouchable. "Now you know. This is the power that can erase dimensions, reshape realities, and transcend the very gods themselves. And this is the world in which you stand—though most of you are still too small to understand it fully."
Raziel knew exactly what had transpired. When [ASSI] had been activated, a minuscule fraction of its power had leaked into reality—and that alone had erased the Third Layer. No one had felt it; the effect was imperceptible to gods, Omegas, or even the strongest Transcenders. Only the Administrators of the Tower and the Seven Seats of Power were aware of the monumental shift.
Even Esau, the center of all attention, was revealed to be nothing more than a fragment, not even a particle, of Raziel's full existence. A mere spark compared to the absolute scope of his creator.
The Administrator's voice cut through the silence, clear and authoritative. "Now that you know your points," she said. There was no global leaderboard—no public display for all to compare themselves—but a system interface appeared individually for each person, hovering in midair. It glowed softly, displaying their rank, name, and system points, tailored personally for them.
She continued, her tone both ceremonial and precise. "You will now receive rewards based on your points. The Tower will grant them, and the Akashic Records will verify. Depending on their judgment, your gifts may be elevated… or, in rare cases, degraded."
Before Esau, a notification blazed into existence, its light almost too bright to look at directly.
[Raziel has gifted you 5 perks]
[Infinite Mind]
[You have been given a subclass: The God of Money]
[You have been given a subclass: God of Dominion]
[You have been given a subclass: THE ABSOLUTE ONE]
[You have been given the Three Omni: Omnipresence, Omniscience, Omnipotence]
Esau's eyes flickered with awe and gratitude. He turned toward Raziel, a subtle, playful smile tugging at his lips. With a movement that was both reverent and deliberate, he knelt before him, and the aura of power radiating from Raziel made the air itself tremble. Other Transcenders instinctively took a step back, their gazes reverent yet fearful.
"Thank you… Raziel," Esau said, his voice steady but filled with unspoken awe.
Raziel's lips curved into a faint, approving smile. "It's alright," he said, and with a hand as light as a feather yet commanding as GOD, he pulled Esau upright.
The system interface shimmered once more,
["Great One, ????????????? is pleased with what you have done."]
["????????????? acknowledges your performance and has granted you a FACET WITH TWO CONCEPTS: THE GREAT EMBODIMENT."]
[GREAT EMBODIMENT: FINALITY & INEVITABILITY]
[CLASS: FACET OF THE ABSOLUTE]
[STATE: BOUND • IRREVOCABLE • ETERNAL]
[CREATOR: RAZIEL ÆLNOÛS]
[ESSENCE]
[This Being is not power.]
[It is the conclusion of all power.]
[Finality & Inevitability is the embodiment of everything that must happen, everything that has happened, and everything that cannot be prevented from happening—across all layers of existence, abstraction, narrative, and beyond.]
It is Nothingness and Everything in perfect overlap. Void and Totality. War and Stillness. Imagination and Reality. Space, Time, Singularity, and Causality—collapsed into certainty.
[FORM]
[• Formless• Uncontained• Non-localized• Non-conceptual yet concept-defining]
[It cannot be seen, yet is always perceived. It cannot be reached, yet it is always present. It cannot be escaped, because escape was never an option.]
[SCOPE OF EXISTENCE — TOTAL INCLUSION]
[This Embodiment simultaneously encompasses and governs: • Atoms• Quantum fields• Dimensional strings• Universes• Multiverses• Hyperverses• Enoverses• Omniverses• Meta-Omniverses• Xenoverses• Beyond-Verses• Meta-Beyond• True Beyond• Outerverse• Transcendental Reality]
[NARRATIVE & META-LAYERS]
[• Narrative Layer• Meta-Narrative• Supa-Narrative Continuum• Author Layer• Beyond the Author• Beyond Narrative Logic]
[CONCEPTUAL & LAW LAYERS]
[• Conceptual Realm (Abstract Existence)• Trans-Conceptual• Archetypal Source• Law Layer• Trans-Law Layer• Law-Forging Realms]
[EXISTENTIAL ARCHITECTURE]
[• Pre-Existence• Void• True Void• Anti-Existence• Sourcefield• Proto-Origin• Primordial Layer• Trans-Primordial• The Origin• The True Origin• First Cause]
[ABSOLUTE AXIS]
[• Formless Infinite• The Absolute• The True Absolute• The Zero Point• Beyond Zero• The Number Line• The In-Between• Source of Sources• Boundless Infinite]
This Being is one of the Highest Points of Absolute Structure.
[SINGULAR FUNCTION — THE ONLY FUNCTION]
[THE WILL • THE WORD • THE ESSENCE OF ????????]
[This is the sole expression of the Being.]
[What it wills → is What it speaks → manifests instantly. What it defines → cannot be altered]
[• No resistance• No delay• No counteraction• No reversal• No exception]
[Not by gods.]
[Not by primordials.]
[Not by authors.]
[Not by meta-existences.]
[Not by narrative itself.]
[ABSOLUTE CLAUSE]
The decree of this Being cannot be changed by anyone except Raziel ÆLNOÛS
Raziel alone may:
• Override• Rewrite• Rescind• Redefine
[The Will answers only to him.]
[This Embodiment is:
Bound to his existence
Anchored to his authority
Subservient only to his intent]
[It does not protect him. It does not empower him.]
[It exists because he exists.]
[????????????? has used FUSION OF THE INFINITE SQUARED MULTIPLIER on this being.]
["Why did you do that!, ???????????????"]
["I want the a#s[l#te [#st (o$ y ?#@"]
[Finality and Inevitability has been granted a form.]
[It has become a Facet.]
[Please give it a name.]
"ESHT'RAH'NUL" Raziel replied.
[STATUS]
[Name: ESHT'RAH'NUL
[Rank: ??????????????]
[Great Embodiment: The Will. The Word. The Essence of ?????????????]
Then, instantly, the Being materialized. Its arrival was not heralded by sound or movement—it simply was. The world itself seemed to pause, as if the very fabric of reality had taken a breath. Upon this small, fragile Earth—just one insignificant speck among the infinite worlds of this layer—the presence of the Being felt like the weight of existence itself.
It had no face, yet it saw all. No eyes, yet every corner of space and time lay open before it. No ears, yet it heard every thought, every heartbeat, every whisper of reality. No mouth, yet its voice resonated across existence, speaking with the authority of creation itself.
The Being was not merely a combination—it was beyond combination, a force that transcended even the limits of understanding. It was beyond the beginning, beyond the end, beyond every concept that could define existence.
It was Finality, the inevitable conclusion of all things. It was Inevitability, the inescapable flow of destiny incarnate. It was the Will, the Word, the Essence of Everything and Nothing, a presence that made infinity itself tremble.
The air rippled with its power. Light bent unnaturally around its form, shadows deepened and stretched without source, and the very ground quivered under the weight of its being. Time seemed to slow, then stretch infinitely, as if the Being existed both before and after reality itself.
To witness it was to know the truth of existence and the futility of resistance. Every atom, every star, every heartbeat of the worlds around it bowed to the inevitability it carried. It was absolute, unyielding, eternal—a presence that could not be challenged, only comprehended in awe and terror.
Everyone present knelt—or if they did not, their souls did. The Administrator, the Transcenders, even the Absolute Tower of Realities itself hushed, pausing in reverent silence, waiting for the being to pass so that existence could continue.
The Being knelt, its face bowed to the ground, as if to behold Raziel's visage were a forbidden act.
"Stand up," Raziel said, extending his hand toward the being. Without hesitation, it rose, towering and majestic, and clasped Raziel's hand in a handshake. It was not just a handshake—it was a dap, a gesture of camaraderie as though they had been friends since eternity itself. And in truth, in a sense, they were; Raziel had crafted this being in the hour he was given, one of the first entities to ever exist.
"Hello, Great One," ESHT'RAH'NUL spoke, its voice resonant, echoing in the space around them as if each syllable bent reality slightly.
"Hello, ESHT'RAH'NUL," Raziel replied calmly.
At that moment, every eye turned toward the entity—but none could truly look. To meet its gaze was fatal; the raw intensity of its presence could unravel a being in an instant. Just like ESHT'RAH'NUL, Zaehlor are facets of Esau, yet ESHT'RAH'NUL itself was a facet of Raziel. Even Esau, in all his Omega glory, could not lock eyes with the being; he could only acknowledge it with a nod. And in response, the being inclined its head.
Then, as swiftly as it had appeared, ESHT'RAH'NUL vanished, returning to the [SANDBOX].
[A NEW FACET HAS BEEN REGISTERED]
[FACETS: SHINJI YAMAZAKI · DANIEL AETHRION · VERLION ESHRANTUNUL · I-AM-NOT · KAMI. ESHT'RAH-NUL]
The crowd erupted in shouts of joy, celebrating the gifts they had received. Their cheers echoed off the high, invisible ceilings of the Tower, a cacophony of excitement and awe. After a while, the Administrator's voice cut through the commotion, crisp and commanding.
"Since you have all checked your rewards, you will be transported to the lobby."
Before the environment could shift, a hesitant hand rose. "What's a lobby?" someone asked.
The Administrator blinked, her expression a mixture of disbelief and mild amusement. "Are you seriously fcking asking that? You've never read a novel, watched a movie, a manhwa, anime… nothing? A lobby, for fcks sake," she sighed, before her tone softened. "It consists of Floors 1 to 5 of all the Transcenders. It is not just a space—it is a safe zone, yes, but advanced. Structures, houses, shops, items—anything a Transcender could need. It exists on Floor 0, within the first layer, and you will be transported to one civilisation among the infinite civilisations there."
The world shifted instantly.
The Lobby was a realm unto itself, an entire civilization condensed into one sprawling, meticulously designed safe zone. Vast structures rose like monuments, their architecture blending elegance and functionality: sleek towers of crystal and metal, domed halls that glimmered like liquid light, and intricate bridges that spanned open plazas. Palaces perched atop gentle hills, their spires reaching toward the sky, reflecting the iridescent glow of the ambient energy that suffused the space.
The streets and walkways were wide, paved with a material that seemed alive, shimmering faintly with runes and symbols of power. Markets bustled with Transcenders moving deliberately. some trading rare items.
Every corner of the Lobby suggested infinite possibilities. Gardens bloomed with plants that defied normal physics, glowing softly under a sky that shifted subtly in colour and hue as if reacting to the inhabitants' presence. Pools of liquid light reflected floating orbs and flying constructs, some of them small, some immense, hovering like sentinels.
Despite the enormity, the Lobby had a sense of cohesion and order. Buildings, towers, and shops were spaced with precision, connected by wide, glowing paths that guided newcomers and veterans alike. Palatial residences of the most accomplished Transcenders stood in the centre, surrounded by plazas where gatherings, duels, and challenges could unfold without restriction.
From anywhere in the Lobby, one could glimpse the scale of the civilisation: a blend of technology, magic, and raw power, all harmonise into a space that was both intimidating and awe-inspiring. It was a safe zone, yes, but a safe zone designed for the transcendent—where every corner, every structure, every detail catered to beings of unimaginable strength and ambition.
And above it all, the soft hum of energy reminded everyone present: this was Floor 0, the first layer of infinite civilizations, a place where the rules of the Tower bent to the sheer scale of creation itself.
Esau and Raziel simply looked around, their eyes scanning the vast civilization, calculating their next steps. Every structure, every individual, was a potential ally, rival, or threat. The weight of possibilities pressed against them like a living thing.
Then movement caught their attention. Klein, Shingen, and Lumina approached with deliberate precision. Shingen stepped forward first, his black hair catching the faint light, his blue eyes sharp and unwavering. He raised a hand, the gesture both formal and threatening.
"I challenge you to a duel,"