The Eternal Plane's glow lingered, a soft iridescence that spilled over the mended tapestry of the multiverse, but Ryan's steps felt heavy as he turned away from the pulsing sphere hidden in the plane's depths. The allied fleet lay in smoldering ruins around them—hulls cracked, energy cores dimmed, the once-proud ships reduced to debris by the Cosmic Tyrant's final assault. Marcus and Jake stumbled beside him, their energies frayed, their bodies marked with cuts and bruises, while the Unmaker stood silent, its humanoid form now a faint silhouette, its void energy ebbing as the Tyrant's influence faded.
Elder Kael's voice crackled over the comms, weak but steady. "We've accounted for the survivors. Less than a third of the fleet remains. Our repair teams are working, but the damage is catastrophic. We'll need days to get even a single ship spaceworthy again."
Ryan nodded, his gaze drifting back to the sphere. The faint, dark pulse still hummed in his bones, matching the rhythm of the mark on his palm—the trinity of light, void, and harmony that now felt less like a gift and more like a chain. "We don't have days," he said, his voice tight. "That sphere… it's not just waiting. It's growing. Every pulse strengthens it, and every pulse pulls at me. If we don't find a way to contain it, it'll tear the Eternal Plane apart—and take the multiverse with it."
The Unmaker stepped forward, its form flickering like a dying flame. "It is the residue of the Cosmic Tyrant's core," it said, its voice hollow. "A fusion of creation and unmaking that the Tyrant could not fully control, could not fully erase. It is both a promise and a curse: a chance to rebuild the multiverse in true harmony… or a doorway to the next cycle of destruction. And it calls to you because you are the first being to weave light, void, and harmony into a single force. You are the only one who can open it."
Jake leaned against a piece of debris, his crystal orb glowing faintly as it scanned the sphere. "Scans confirm it. The sphere's energy signature matches yours, Ryan—down to the last frequency. It's like it's a part of you. A part you haven't claimed yet."
Marcus sheathed his energy sword, his jaw set. "Then we claim it. Not as a weapon, not as a doorway—but as a tool. If it's tied to Ryan's energy, we can use that connection to stabilize it. To seal it away until we understand what it truly is."
Ryan's hand tightened around his balanced sword, the mark on his palm burning. He knew Marcus was right—sealing the sphere was the logical choice, the safe choice. But the whispers still lingered in his mind, soft and insistent: "Embrace me. Understand me. Become more than you are." He thought of Elias's voice, of the Thread of Redemption's faint pulse in his chest, and wondered if safety was the right path. If the sphere held not just danger, but the key to ensuring the multiverse's harmony never frayed again.
"We can't seal it without understanding it," Ryan said, turning to face his friends. "If we lock it away blindly, we'll be dooming the next generation to fight the same battles we did. The Cosmic Tyrant's cycle ended because we chose to look beyond light and dark—not because we hid from the unknown. I need to get closer. I need to touch it."
Marcus's eyes widened. "Ryan, that's suicide! The Unmaker said it's a doorway to destruction. What if touching it corrupts you? What if it turns you into the next Tyrant?"
"I won't let that happen," Ryan said, his voice steady. "The harmony in my veins isn't just power—it's a promise. A promise to protect, not conquer. And the Unmaker will be with me. If the sphere tries to corrupt me, it can pull me back. We'll do it together."
The Unmaker nodded, its form solidifying slightly. "I will not let you fall. I owe you that much—for freeing me from the Tyrant's control, for showing me that unmaking and creation can coexist. I will stand guard. If the sphere's influence overwhelms you, I will sever the connection."
Elder Kael sighed over the comms. "I do not like this, but I see the wisdom in it. We will form a barrier around you—harmonious energy to shield you from the sphere's worst impulses. If things go south, we'll pull you out immediately."
Within an hour, the survivors had rallied. The remaining ships hovered in a circle above the sphere, their energy cores glowing as they wove a net of iridescent harmony around the area. Marcus and Jake took positions at Ryan's sides, their energies flaring, while the Unmaker stood directly behind him, its void energy coiled like a shield. Ryan took a deep breath, his balanced sword in one hand, his other palm open—ready to touch the sphere, ready to face whatever destiny it held.
The sphere's pulse quickened as he approached, the whispers growing louder, clearer: "You are the bridge. You are the key. You are the one who will decide the multiverse's fate." His palm burned, the trinity mark glowing in sync with the sphere, and for a moment, he hesitated. What if Marcus was right? What if he became the very thing he'd fought to destroy?
But then he felt the Thread of Redemption's warm pulse, felt Elias's voice in his mind: "Choice is the heart of harmony. Not blind safety, not reckless courage—but the strength to choose what's right, even when it scares you." He closed his eyes, took one more step, and pressed his palm to the sphere.
A searing pain shot through his arm, up his spine, into his skull. Ryan screamed, his vision exploding into a kaleidoscope of light and dark—visions of the past, present, and future all crashing together. He saw the First One's creation of the first universe, the Unmaker's first rage, the Cosmic Tyrant's cold laughter as it set the cycle in motion. He saw himself as a slum kid on Earth, as a True Balance fighting the Unmaker, as a weaver mending the multiverse's tapestry. And then he saw the future—a future where the sphere's energy merged with his own, where he became a being of pure harmony, guiding the multiverse into an era of peace… and a future where he surrendered to the sphere's darkness, becoming a new Cosmic Tyrant, tearing the tapestry apart once more.
"Two paths," a voice boomed in his mind, not the sphere's whispers, but a voice older than the Tyrant, older than the First One. A voice that was the very fabric of the multiverse itself. "Two fates. One of light, one of dark. One of harmony, one of chaos. The choice is yours, Ryan Harris. Always yours."
The visions intensified. He saw Marcus and Jake falling, their bodies broken, as he stood over them, his eyes glowing with tyrannical light. He saw the Unmaker dissolving, its void energy consumed by his rage. He saw the multiverse burning, every star winking out, every planet turning to dust. And then he saw the other path: himself standing beside the Unmaker, guiding new civilizations, mending small frays in the tapestry before they grew into tears, Marcus and Jake laughing beside him, the sphere's energy a gentle hum that nurtured the multiverse instead of destroying it.
"Choose," the voice thundered. "Choose, or the sphere will choose for you."
Ryan's mind reeled. The dark path called to him—the power, the control, the end of fear. But the light path… the light path called to his heart. To the boy who'd fought to survive on Earth, to the friend who'd stood by Marcus and Jake through every battle, to the guardian who'd sworn to protect the multiverse. He thought of the survivors, of the beings who'd put their trust in him, of the harmony he'd fought so hard to forge.
"I choose," he shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos. "I choose harmony. I choose to protect. I choose to nurture, not conquer. I choose the multiverse."
The searing pain faded, replaced by a warm surge of energy. The sphere's pulse slowed, its glow softening, as it merged with the mark on his palm. Ryan felt the energy flow through him—not just light, not just void, not just harmony, but something deeper: the very essence of the multiverse, the ability to sense every thread, every fray, every spark of life. He opened his eyes, and the Eternal Plane stretched before him in perfect clarity—he could see the threads of every universe, the pulse of every star, the heartbeat of every being.
The Unmaker exhaled, its form relaxing. "It worked," it said, its voice filled with relief. "You've merged with the sphere's energy, but you've not been corrupted. You've tamed it."
Marcus let out a laugh, a sound of pure relief, as he clapped Ryan on the back. "Told you you could do it. Though I'll admit, I was halfway to charging in there to yank you away."
Jake's crystal orb glowed brightly, projecting a hologram of the multiverse. "Look. The sphere's energy is spreading through the tapestry—stabilizing it, strengthening it. The frays we couldn't reach before are mending on their own. This is… this is permanent."
Ryan smiled, but the smile faded as he felt a faint, unfamiliar energy ripple through the multiverse. It was not dark, not light, not void—not even harmony. It was something alien, something that didn't belong, something that slithered through the threads like a shadow, unseen by the others. He focused on it, his newfound connection to the multiverse guiding him, and traced it back to its source: a rift in the Void Between Worlds, a tear that hadn't been there before—one that pulsed with the same alien energy.
"What is it?" the Unmaker asked, noticing his tension. "What do you feel?"
Ryan's gaze fixed on the rift, his energy flaring. "Something's coming. From beyond the multiverse. Something that doesn't belong here. It's not part of the Tyrant's cycle, not part of creation or unmaking—it's… foreign."
Elder Kael's voice sharpened over the comms. "Scans aren't picking up anything. Are you sure, Ryan?"
"I'm sure," Ryan said, his hand tightening around his balanced sword. The mark on his palm pulsed, warning him, and the Thread of Redemption flared, as if Elias's energy was also sensing the threat. "It's hiding. Masking its presence. But it's there. And it's hungry."
The Unmaker's form tensed, its void energy coiling. "Beyond the multiverse… there are legends. Of the 'Outside,' a realm of chaos and entropy that existed before the First One's creation. The Cosmic Tyrant feared it—said it was the only force that could truly erase existence."
Ryan's blood ran cold. The Cosmic Tyrant, a being who'd toyed with creation and unmaking like playthings, had feared the Outside? That meant the threat slithering through the rift was worse than anything they'd faced before. Worse than the Unmaker. Worse than the Cosmic Tyrant.
"The rift is growing," Ryan said, his voice urgent. "Slowly, but steadily. If we don't close it, whatever's on the other side will pour through—and this time, harmony won't be enough to stop it. This time, we'll be fighting something we can't understand, something we can't merge with, something we can't tame."
Marcus stepped forward, his energy sword glowing. "Then we close it. Whatever it takes. We've faced tyrants and voids and broken tapestries—we can face this too."
Jake nodded, his crystal orb spinning as it finally locked onto the rift's energy signature. "I've got it. The rift's energy is unstable. If we hit it with a concentrated blast of harmonious energy—your energy, Ryan, merged with the Unmaker's void—we can seal it. At least temporarily."
Ryan glanced at the Unmaker, who nodded. "Together," it said. "As we were against the Tyrant. As we will be against whatever comes from the Outside."
Ryan took a deep breath, closing his eyes. He focused on the harmonious energy flowing through him, on the Unmaker's void energy, on the mark on his palm that now connected him to the multiverse's very essence. He felt the energy surge, merging into a single, concentrated beam—bright, dark, iridescent—ready to seal the rift.
"Now," he said, opening his eyes.
He and the Unmaker unleashed the beam, which shot across the Eternal Plane, piercing the rift. The rift screamed, a sound that was not quite a sound—something that grated on the mind, that made the tapestry ripple. The beam pushed the rift closed, the alien energy hissing as it was forced back into the Outside. For a moment, the rift wavered, then snapped shut, leaving nothing but a faint, lingering energy signature.
The Eternal Plane fell silent. The survivors cheered, weak but heartfelt, as the threat of the rift faded. Ryan let out a breath, his energy draining, but the relief was short-lived. He still felt it—the faint, alien pulse, lingering at the edges of the multiverse, like a predator waiting in the shadows.
"It's not gone," he said, his voice low. "We sealed it, but it's still out there. Waiting. Watching. And it will find another way in. Sooner or later, it will find another way in."
The Unmaker's form flickered, its voice heavy. "The Outside is infinite. The rifts will keep appearing—one after another, each stronger than the last. We can't seal them all forever. We need to find a way to stop whatever's coming… before it finds us."
Ryan nodded, his gaze drifting to the stars. The multiverse's harmony was fragile, a thin layer of light over an endless void of unknown threats. The Cosmic Tyrant's cycle was over, but a new battle was beginning—one that would take them beyond the multiverse, into the Outside, into a realm where even the rules of creation and unmaking did not apply.
Marcus clapped him on the shoulder, his face set with determination. "Then we prepare. We rebuild the fleet. We train the survivors. We find others—beings from across the multiverse who can fight, who can heal, who can help. We won't face this alone."
Jake's crystal orb glowed, projecting a map of the multiverse with hundreds of tiny, pulsing points. "Scans are picking up other harmonious energy signatures—beings who've awakened to the balance, just like you, Ryan. They're scattered, but they're there. We can unite them. Form an army of True Balances. An army of harmony."
Ryan smiled, a faint, determined thing. "An army of harmony. I like that. But first… we need to learn. We need to understand the Outside, understand the threat. We need to find answers in the oldest corners of the multiverse—in the ruins of the First One's civilization, in the texts of the Ancients, in the memories of the Unmaker."
He turned back to the mended tapestry, to the faint energy signature of the closed rift, to the pulsing mark on his palm. The whispers of destiny were still there, but now they spoke of a new path—a path beyond the cycle, beyond light and dark, beyond even harmony. A path that would take him to the edge of existence and back.
As the survivors began to clear the debris, as the repair teams worked to salvage the fleet, as the Unmaker retreated to the Void Between Worlds to search for answers in its own memories, Ryan stood alone on the Eternal Plane. He closed his eyes, letting his newfound connection to the multiverse wash over him, and felt it—the faint, alien pulse, growing stronger, drawing closer.
The battle for the multiverse was not over. It had only just begun.
And this time, the enemy was not a tyrant, not a void, not a broken cycle.
This time, the enemy was the unknown.
And Ryan Harris—slum kid, True Balance, weaver of harmony—was ready to face it.
But as he opened his eyes, a single, cold thought struck him: what if the unknown was not an enemy? What if it was a warning? What if the thing coming from the Outside was not here to destroy the multiverse… but to save it from something far worse?
The thought lingered, a seed of doubt in the middle of his resolve.
And somewhere in the depths of the Outside, a being stirred. A being of pure, unknowable energy. A being that had watched the multiverse since its birth. A being that was finally ready to reveal itself.
Ready to tell Ryan the truth about the multiverse.
Ready to tell him the truth about himself.
The end… for now.