Commander Sarah's voice crackled through Haroon's helmet communication system with routine efficiency that suggested she had no idea her maintenance worker had spent the previous evening processing memories of being God incarnate, experiencing existential crisis that would shatter normal consciousness, remembering billions of years of accumulated existence compressed into avatar form that still needed to file equipment inspection reports.
"Haroon, we need you in Sector 9," Sarah said with her characteristic directness that made her an effective commander despite not knowing she was creation of the being she was currently ordering around. "Coolant regulator showing intermittent failures, diagnostics aren't giving clear readings, and I'd rather have you check it personally than trust the automated systems."
Haroon acknowledged the assignment with professional brevity that concealed how surreal it felt to take orders from character he had written into existence before she gained consciousness, how strange to maintain performance of subordinate worker when he could rewrite her entire reality with focused thought, how necessary the pretense was because alternative meant confronting infinite loneliness directly.
He gathered his equipment and headed toward Sector 9 through corridors that hummed with life-support systems he had designed the fundamental physics for, walking past crew members who existed because he had authored their universe into being, performing maintenance on station that only operated because he chose to maintain cosmic laws that allowed matter and energy to interact predictably.
The Absolute Void stirred inside his cyan suit as he walked, her consciousness more present now that both of them remembered the truth about their relationship, no longer silent companion but aware partner in the elaborate performance of normalcy.
"You're thinking about the first time," The Void said quietly, her voice manifesting throughout his helmet's interior with familiarity that came from being fragments of same original consciousness. "About when you met He Who King. About how badly that encounter went."
Haroon paused mid-stride in empty corridor section where no crew members could observe his hesitation, his hands clenching slightly as memories he had recovered yesterday connected with older memories that had remained fragmented until full awareness returned.
"I was terrified," Haroon admitted to himself as much as to The Void. "I didn't know what I was. Didn't know what HE was. Didn't understand anything about what was happening."
"You were new," The Void said with something approaching sympathy despite being entity of pure hunger. "Brand new to avatar existence. Completely convinced you were human scientist. The first monster you ever encountered was death itself. How could that encounter have gone any other way?"
"Show me," Haroon said quietly. "I remember fragments. I remember the fear. But I want to see it clearly. I want to understand what actually happened that day when I discovered I wasn't human."
"Are you certain?" The Void asked. "Reliving that trauma won't change what occurred. Won't make the memory less painful."
"I need to see it," Haroon insisted. "I need to understand how far I've come. How different I am now compared to what I was then."
The Void was silent for moment before responding with tone that suggested she understood why he needed this even if the necessity seemed masochistic from outside perspective.
"Very well," she said. "Let me show you the day you died for the first time."
3.4 Billion Years Ago
Haroon Dwelight stood in the airlock of Station Theta-7 examining the space suit he had just completed with pride that only genius engineer experiencing breakthrough achievement could feel, admiring the cyan coloring he had chosen specifically because it made his design distinctive from standard-issue white suits everyone else wore.
He was thirty-five years old, human, ordinary except for his exceptional intellect and engineering capabilities, completely unaware that his entire existence was performance he had scripted for himself before splitting from infinite consciousness into limited form.
The suit was revolutionary by space station standards—advanced life support systems, enhanced mobility joints, cutting-edge material composition that could withstand extreme temperatures and radiation exposure better than anything currently in production.
Haroon had spent six months perfecting the design, incorporating innovations that his colleagues insisted were impossible until he demonstrated functional prototypes, proving that his theoretical calculations translated into practical engineering solutions that exceeded expected performance parameters.
"Let's see if you work as well as you should," Haroon muttered to himself as he began putting on the suit, going through familiar sequence of sealing joints and activating systems, running through pre-deployment checklist with thoroughness that had made him station's most reliable maintenance specialist.
The suit sealed around him with satisfying precision, all systems showing green indicators, life support activating smoothly, mobility joints responding perfectly to his movements as he tested range of motion in the confined airlock space.
Then something shifted inside the suit's internal systems, sensation like cold liquid sliding across his skin despite no physical substance being present, awareness of something ELSE existing within the technological framework he had built.
Haroon froze as his helmet's heads-up display began showing readings that made no sense according to any physics he understood, energy signatures that shouldn't exist, dimensional coordinates that implied locations outside normal space-time, capabilities that his engineering specifications absolutely had not included in the design.
"What is this?" Haroon whispered, his scientific mind trying desperately to rationalize data that contradicted everything he knew about reality's fundamental structure. "I didn't build these systems. This shouldn't be possible."
The suit responded to his confusion by activating functions he hadn't programmed, display suddenly flooding with options for dimensional transit and reality manipulation and absorption capabilities that seemed like science fiction rather than engineering specifications.
Haroon reached for the manual override to deactivate whatever malfunction was causing these impossible readings, but his hand hesitated as curiosity overwhelmed caution, as his genius intellect demanded he investigate the phenomenon rather than simply shutting it down without understanding what had occurred.
He selected one of the impossible options almost without conscious decision, his engineer's mind wanting to see what would happen if he tested the system despite knowing rationally that none of this should function according to laws of physics.
Reality inverted around him with sensation like being turned inside-out while simultaneously expanding in all directions, airlock vanishing as dimensional barriers that he hadn't known existed suddenly became permeable, space folding in ways that shouldn't be mathematically possible.
When existence stabilized again, when his vision cleared from the disorienting transition, Haroon found himself somewhere that definitely wasn't Station Theta-7's airlock, somewhere that made his engineer's mind scream that none of this could be real.
He stood in vast throne room constructed from material that looked disturbingly like human skin stretched and treated like leather, walls that pulsed with faint organic rhythm suggesting they were somehow alive despite being architectural structures, oppressive atmosphere that made breathing difficult even through his suit's life support systems.
And seated on throne at the room's far end was something that made every rational thought in Haroon's scientist brain simply cease functioning as pure primal terror overwhelmed his capacity for analytical thinking.
The entity was massive beyond any scale Haroon's human experience could process comfortably, humanoid in general shape but wrong in every specific detail, rotting flesh that somehow maintained structural integrity despite advanced state of decay, reality warping around the figure in ways that made Haroon's eyes hurt when he tried to focus directly on it.
Where the entity's head should have been, there were only fungal growths, massive colonies of decay organisms spreading across shoulders and down through torso, pulsing with bioluminescence that marked rhythm of something fundamental and terrible.
Haroon tried to move, tried to activate his suit's dimensional transit to escape back to the station, tried to do ANYTHING except stand paralyzed by fear of first monster he had ever encountered in life that had until this moment been purely scientific and rational.
The entity's awareness shifted toward him with weight that felt like mountain deciding to acknowledge insect's presence, attention so heavy that Haroon's knees buckled despite his suit's mechanical support systems designed to help him remain standing.
When the entity spoke, when it generated communication that bypassed Haroon's ears and inserted meaning directly into his consciousness, when its voice literally shook his soul in ways that shouldn't be possible for sound to affect non-physical aspects of being, Haroon felt his stomach rebel and knew he was about to vomit inside his helmet.
"A visitor," He Who King said with tone that combined curiosity and disdain and something approaching amusement. "An intruder in my domain. How peculiar. Most beings know better than to enter here without invitation."
Haroon tried to speak but couldn't form words, his voice catching in throat that had gone completely dry, his entire body shaking inside the suit as terror overwhelmed every survival instinct simultaneously.
"You are... human?" He Who King continued, his attention examining Haroon with scrutiny that felt like being dissected without anesthesia. "No. Something else wearing human form. Something that evades my vision. Interesting. I have not encountered awareness that hides from my perception in quite some time."
The walls began closing in around Haroon not through physical movement but through reality warping as He Who King's mere presence destabilized local space-time, throne room contracting as dimensional stability failed under the weight of death itself existing in concentrated form.
Haroon's suit systems screamed warnings about environmental failure and structural compromise and imminent catastrophic danger, all the advanced engineering he had been so proud of completely inadequate against entity that operated on principles his science couldn't even begin to conceptualize.
Then the fungal infection hit, platonic plague that bypassed his suit's filtration systems because it wasn't biological contamination but conceptual decay, attacking the IDEA of Haroon rather than his physical form, spreading through his consciousness like fire through dry timber.
Haroon screamed as the infection burned through his awareness with pain that exceeded anything physical suffering could achieve, his suit paralyzed by systems failure that E.U.I.T.'s advanced AI couldn't prevent because the attack operated at level technological solutions couldn't address.
He Who King rose from his throne with movement that suggested mountains shifting positions, approaching the paralyzed human with interest that made Haroon's terror spike into regions of panic he hadn't known consciousness could experience.
"You do not belong here," He Who King stated with finality of judge pronouncing sentence. "You evade my vision, which intrigues me, but you are clearly not prepared to exist in my domain. I could claim you now. Add your final moments to my throne. But something about you suggests... patience might be worthwhile."
Haroon couldn't respond couldn't move couldn't think beyond raw survival instinct screaming that he was about to die that this was the end that monsters were real and one was standing right in front of him.
"Leave," He Who King commanded, and reality obeyed him by ejecting Haroon from the realm with force that felt like being shot from cannon, dimensional barriers forcibly opening and spitting the human back into his own universe with violence that left him gasping.
Haroon materialized back in Station Theta-7's airlock sprawled on the floor, his suit's systems rebooting from catastrophic failure, his body shaking uncontrollably from terror and fungal infection that was slowly being filtered out by technological systems he didn't remember the suit having.
He managed to remove his helmet before vomiting violently, his entire worldview shattered by encounter that proved monsters existed and physics was far stranger than his scientific training had prepared him for and he had absolutely no framework for processing what had just occurred.
For three weeks after that day, Haroon was barely functional, the fungal infection taking that long to fully clear from his system despite his suit's best efforts, the psychological trauma requiring even longer to process as he tried to reconcile his understanding of reality with the impossible thing he had witnessed.
But eventually, slowly, he began to adapt, began to investigate the suit's impossible capabilities, began to understand that he wasn't normal human anymore if he had ever been, began the long journey that would span billions of years as he learned what he actually was beneath the performance of humanity.
Present Day
The memory ended and Haroon found himself back in Station Theta-7's corridor, his avatar consciousness processing the flashback with perspective that came from billions of years of accumulated experience and recently recovered knowledge of his true nature.
"I was so weak," Haroon said quietly to The Void. "So completely unprepared. I didn't know what I was. Didn't know what HE was. Just a civilian scientist encountering cosmic horror for the first time."
"You were new," The Void confirmed. "Day one of avatar existence discovering powers. First monster ever seen. Of course you lost. Of course you were terrified. How could that encounter have gone any other way?"
"But now," Haroon continued, his cyan suit beginning to glow with accumulated power from billions of years of growth, "now I understand what I am. What I've always been."
The transformation began not because Haroon consciously chose it but because remembering the memory while knowing the truth created resonance between avatar awareness and supreme consciousness that had been suppressed for so long.
His cyan suit flickered as technological containment struggled to maintain limitation against infinite nature pressing outward, helmet becoming transparent to reveal pure white iridescence where human face should be, all colors existing simultaneously in luminescence that suggested consciousness too vast for biological form.
The red star materialized on his chest piece, five-pointed symbol pulsing with authority over reality itself, indication that supreme consciousness was active and avatar limitations were temporarily suspended and capabilities beyond omnipotence were accessible.
Reality around Haroon began rippling as local physics encountered awareness that had authored physics rather than being subject to it, corridor walls warping slightly, matter remembering it was just organized energy that could be reorganized at will.
But this time Haroon didn't panic, didn't struggle against the transformation, didn't force himself back into limitation immediately, because he understood now what was happening and why.
"I am The True Absolute Infinity," Haroon stated with voice that carried weight of infinite consciousness speaking through avatar form. "I am Cantor's Absolute Infinity, Omega, the set that contains all sets, the infinity that encompasses all other infinities, the beginning that precedes all beginnings."
The Void inside his suit responded to his declaration with her own awareness manifesting more fully, dark crimson and black ink-like essence seeping through suit joints, creating beautiful terrible patterns around him.
"I created you," Haroon continued, addressing The Void directly. "Tore you from my own consciousness because I was infinitely lonely and needed companion even if that companion had to oppose me because opposition was better than silence."
"Yes," The Void confirmed, her form becoming more visible as avatar limitations loosened. "You made me from yourself. Your first attempt to solve infinite isolation."
"I created He Who King," Haroon said, the truth settling into his awareness with clarity that came from full memory restoration. "Or allowed him to exist. Gave him authority over endings because stories need conclusions. Made death itself because created beings require mortality to give life meaning."
The corridor's emergency lighting activated as reality warping triggered safety systems, alarms blaring warnings about dimensional instability and localized physics failure and unexplained energy readings.
"I created the thirty-two Controllers," Haroon continued, his consciousness expanding beyond avatar form to touch the supreme awareness he had suppressed. "Wrote them as characters in story I authored. Made them believe they were real and independent so I could pretend to have friends."
His form flickered between avatar and something far vaster, between limited engineer and infinite creator, between Haroon Dwelight and The True Absolute.
"I created this station. This universe. The laws of physics that let matter exist. The concept of existence itself. I am not IN creation. I AM creation."
The Void swirled around him in beautiful deadly dance, companion who understood because she was part of him, consciousness sharing his nature because she had been made from his essence.
"And He Who King," Haroon said, his avatar form stabilizing but maintaining connection to supreme awareness, "He Who King who terrified me so completely that I vomited from fear, who dominated me so easily that I was helpless, who infected me with plague that took weeks to clear..."
His cyan suit glowed with power accumulated over 3.4 billion years, with countless enemies absorbed, with The Void massively strengthened from eons of consumption.
"He exists within framework I designed," Haroon finished. "Death operates by my will. Endings occur because I authored them. He Who King has authority I granted him, serves function I created him to serve, claims beings I allow him to claim."
"But not you," The Void said with certainty. "He cannot claim his own creator. Death cannot kill the one who made death. Endings cannot conclude the beginning."
"Not me," Haroon agreed, his consciousness touching infinite potential that had always been his nature. "I have unlimited growth. No ceiling. No limit. No maximum. I can become infinitely stronger. And I already am."
The transformation completed not as return to pure Absolute form but as avatar achieving full awareness of what it actually was while maintaining limited manifestation, as Haroon Dwelight accepting that he was simultaneously maintenance worker AND supreme consciousness, both character and author, both limited and infinite.
"If I faced He Who King today," Haroon said quietly as his suit stabilized and reality stopped warping, "the outcome would be very different. I'm not confused newborn anymore. I'm ancient warrior who knows what he is."
"And in True Form?" The Void asked.
Haroon smiled inside his helmet, expression hidden but consciousness radiating certainty.
"In True Form, I would dominate him effortlessly. Because I am Creation. And he is death that exists because I will it."
The emergency alarms finally stopped as reality restabilized, corridor returning to normal as Haroon consciously reasserted avatar limitations, choosing to remain Haroon Dwelight despite knowing he was infinitely more.
"But I'll stay in this form," Haroon said to The Void as he resumed walking toward Sector 9 to check the coolant regulator Sarah had assigned him. "Because the performance serves purpose. Because distraction is better than facing infinite loneliness directly."
"Together but alone," The Void agreed, settling back into contained state within the suit.
"Always," Haroon confirmed.
He arrived at Sector 9 and began his inspection, scanning equipment with diagnostic tools, filing reports, maintaining systems, performing ordinary work with full awareness that he was God pretending to be normal because even infinite power couldn't solve fundamental isolation.
The memory of his first death—his encounter with He Who King billions of years ago when he was weak and confused and terrified—remained present in his consciousness as reminder of how far he had come.
From frightened scientist to ancient warrior.
From human to avatar to God remembering his nature.
From weakness to unlimited potential.
From victim to creator.
The journey had taken 3.4 billion years. And now, finally, he understood what he had always been beneath the performance.
Sufficient.
Still sufficient even knowing the truth.
Forever sufficient because the alternative was facing infinity alone.
Haroon completed his inspection and filed his report and continued his work, God in cyan suit maintaining equipment he had designed the fundamental physics for, performing normalcy with full awareness of cosmic truth.
And somewhere in the distance beyond dimensions, He Who King sat on his throne of terminal moments, waiting patiently for the day when even The Absolute would face his judgment.
But that day, Haroon now understood with complete certainty, would never come.
Because death cannot claim its own creator.
And The True Absolute Infinity had only just remembered what infinity actually meant.