The Meta-Void was a place where color went to die. It was an infinite expanse of absolute whiteness, a blank canvas where the "Authors" of the multiverse sketched their cruel designs. Volt stood in the center of this nothingness, his obsidian armor humming with a dark, rhythmic pulse. The sword in his hand, forged from the concept of Non-existence, flickered like a glitch in the fabric of a dream.
Before him, the New Author was no longer a shadowy figure. As the ink of the shattered script bled into the void, the entity took a form that made Volt's heart grow cold. It was a mirror image of Volt himself—but not the farmer, and not even the Demon King who broke the Fifth Gate. It was a version of Volt that had never found Vanessa. It was a version of Volt that had successfully erased everything and sat alone on a throne of silence.
"You call yourself the Source of Death," the Entity spoke, its voice a hollow echo of Volt's own. "But you have become soft. You traded your divinity for the smell of wet soil and the laughter of children who shouldn't exist. I am the True Narrative. I am the version of you that the fans wanted—the monster who never looks back."
Volt tightened his grip on his blade. "The fans didn't live through 9000 years of darkness. I did. And if being 'soft' means protecting the people I love, then I'll be the softest God you've ever tried to delete."
The Entity moved. It didn't run; it simply occupied the space where Volt was standing. Their blades clashed, and the impact sent a shockwave through every parallel universe. Back in the world of Godw, the sky turned a deep, bruised crimson. Anos and Akuto stood at the edge of the farm, their hands glowing as they tried to stabilize the reality that was being torn apart by their father's battle.
"He's fighting himself," Akuto whispered, his eyes wide. "He's not just fighting a writer; he's fighting the very idea of who he used to be."
In the Meta-Void, the battle intensified. Volt used Information Manipulation to rewrite the Entity's attacks into harmless cherry blossoms, but the Entity countered with Conceptual Erasure, trying to delete the memory of Vanessa from Volt's mind.
"If you forget her, you lose your anchor!" the Entity roared, swinging a scythe of pure static. "Without her, you are just a glitch in my system!"
Volt felt his vision blur. For a second, the name "Vanessa" felt like a word from a language he didn't speak. He saw the farm, the potatoes, the straw hat—all of it began to turn into grey, meaningless data. He was slipping. He was becoming the monster again.
But then, a surge of light pierced through the Meta-Void. It wasn't Volt's light. It was Alisa's. Back on the farm, the 15-year-old girl had raised her hands to the sky, pouring every ounce of her radiant energy into the rift.
"Dad! Don't you dare forget us!" her voice echoed through the dimensions.
The light acted as a beacon. Volt's eyes snapped open, glowing with a new kind of power—not the power of death, but the power of Persistence. He grabbed the Entity's scythe with his bare hand, the static burning his skin.
"I am the Farmer of Godw," Volt growled. "And I have a harvest to finish."
Volt drove his shoulder into the Entity, shattering the illusions around them. He began to use Story Manipulation not to change the past, but to fix the present. He wove a new law into the fabric of existence: The Law of the Unwritten. He declared that no Author, old or new, could ever claim ownership over a soul that had learned to love.
The Entity began to dissolve. Its form flickered between a man and a puddle of ink. "You... you are destroying the story! Without a writer, there is no end! There is only... chaos!"
"No," Volt said, standing over the fading entity. "Without a writer, there is only Freedom."
With one final, decisive stroke, Volt swung his blade. He didn't kill the Entity; he erased the Role of the Author entirely. The Meta-Void began to collapse in on itself, a white hole swallowing everything. Volt knew he couldn't stay. If he didn't leave now, he would be trapped in the "Non-existence" forever, becoming a ghost in a world that no longer had a script.
He looked at the rift leading back to the farm. He saw Anos reaching out, his hand desperate. He saw Vanessa standing by the porch, her eyes filled with a terrifying, silent prayer.
Volt threw his sword into the collapsing void, letting the symbol of his dark past be consumed by the white fire. He leapt toward the rift, his armor shedding away, turning back into the simple, dirt-stained clothes of a جوتیار.
He hit the soil of Godw with a heavy thud. The sky instantly returned to its beautiful golden-purple hue. The cracks vanished. The air smelled of rain and blooming flowers.
Anos and Akuto ran toward him, pulling him up. Vanessa stayed where she was, her legs finally giving out as she sat on the porch steps, sobbing into her hands. Volt walked toward her, limping slightly, his face covered in cosmic dust. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, glowing seed he had snatched from the Meta-Void.
"I found a new type of flower," he said, his voice raspy. "It doesn't need a script to grow."
Vanessa looked up, a mixture of anger and pure relief on her face. She stood up and slapped him across the chest, then pulled him into a hug that felt more powerful than the Fifth Gate.