The dust of the Cosmic Tyrant's defeat had barely settled when Ryan's newfound connection to the multiverse hummed with urgency. The faint, alien pulse from the Outside lingered at the edges of existence, a cold reminder that the battle for harmony was far from over. The allied fleet's remaining ships clung to the Eternal Plane's edges, their hulls patched with hasty repairs, while survivors worked tirelessly to salvage energy cores and rebuild weapon systems. Marcus oversaw the military preparations, his ex-military precision keeping the chaos in check, while Jake led a team of scholars and sensors experts to map the faint rift signatures scattered across the Void Between Worlds.
Ryan stood apart from the fray, his palm pressed to the cold, shifting stone of the Eternal Plane's central spire—a structure built by the First One, its surfaces covered in faded runes that glowed faintly in response to his harmonious energy. The Unmaker stood beside him, its humanoid form now stabilized into a figure of swirling shadow and light, a living testament to the coexistence of creation and unmaking.
"The First One's ruins hold the answers," the Unmaker said, its voice echoing softly against the spire's walls. "It knew of the Outside. It built this spire to ward off the threats that lurked beyond the multiverse's borders. But the Cosmic Tyrant destroyed most of its records, fearing that the truth would undermine its cycle of testing."
Ryan traced a rune with his finger, his balanced energy surging to illuminate the faded markings. The rune blazed to life, projecting a hologram of the First One—a being of pure, gentle light, its face filled with sorrow as it looked out over a rift in the Void Between Worlds. "It was afraid," Ryan whispered, his eyes fixed on the hologram. "Not just of the Outside, but of what it would do to the multiverse. It built the ward, but it knew it wouldn't hold forever."
The Unmaker nodded, its form flickering as it accessed the faint memories woven into the spire's stone. "The First One did not create the multiverse out of ambition. It created it out of necessity. The Outside is a realm of unbound entropy, where even the laws of creation and unmaking do not apply. It was spreading, consuming everything in its path, and the First One forged the multiverse as a barrier—a shield of light and void, balance and chaos, to hold it back."
Jake's voice crackled over the comms, urgent and excited. "Ryan, we found something. A hidden chamber beneath the spire—sealed with the First One's creation energy. Scans show it contains a datacore, intact and undamaged by the Tyrant. It might have the full records of the Outside, of the wards, of everything we need to know."
Ryan and the Unmaker descended into the spire's depths, following Jake's coordinates through a maze of twisting corridors lined with glowing runes. The air grew colder, thick with the faint, ancient energy of the First One, and the hum of the multiverse's tapestry grew louder, as if the very stone was singing with the weight of its purpose. At the end of the corridor stood a door of pure, translucent light, sealed with a complex pattern of runes that matched the mark on Ryan's palm.
Ryan pressed his palm to the door, the trinity mark glowing in sync with the runes. The door dissolved into light, revealing a small chamber lined with crystalline pillars, at the center of which rested a datacore of iridescent energy—pulsing in time with the multiverse's core, with the mark on his palm, with the faint pulse from the Outside.
As he reached for the datacore, it surged to life, projecting a hologram of the First One that was clearer, brighter, more vivid than the one above. The First One's voice echoed through the chamber, warm but filled with urgency, as if it had been waiting for Ryan for eons.
"To the one who weaves light, void, and harmony—you are the one I have been waiting for. The Cosmic Tyrant twisted my cycle, turned my barrier into a game, but you have broken its hold. Now, you face the true threat: the Outside. The realm of entropy that I sealed away, that has been gnawing at the multiverse's edges since its birth. The ward I built is failing. The rifts will multiply, and soon, the Entropy Wraiths will pour through—beings of pure, unbound chaos that will consume the multiverse's tapestry, erasing it not with unmaking, but with nothingness."
Ryan's heart raced. Entropy Wraiths—beings that could erase existence without a trace. Worse than the Unmaker, worse than the Cosmic Tyrant. A threat that not even harmony might be able to stop.
"The ward can be strengthened," the First One's hologram continued, "but not with creation energy, not with void, not with harmony alone. It requires a sacrifice—a being who is willing to merge with the multiverse's core, to become the ward itself, to hold back the Outside for eternity. I was willing to make that sacrifice, but the Cosmic Tyrant stopped me, trapping me in a cycle of creation and unmaking that left me powerless to act. Now, the choice falls to you, Ryan Harris. To merge with the core, to become the eternal ward, and to protect the multiverse from the Outside… or to let it fall into nothingness."
The hologram faded, leaving the datacore pulsing softly in the center of the chamber. The silence that followed was heavy, oppressive, as Ryan processed the First One's words. A sacrifice of eternity—trapped as the multiverse's ward, unable to move, unable to see his friends, unable to live. A choice between his own freedom and the survival of everything he had ever loved.
"The First One knew you would be the one to face this choice," the Unmaker said, its voice soft. "It wove the Thread of Redemption, it guided your path, it forged the Key of Cosmic Harmony—all to prepare you for this moment. You are the only one who can merge with the core and survive. The only one who can hold back the Entropy Wraiths."
Ryan turned to the Unmaker, his eyes filled with doubt. "What about Marcus? What about Jake? What about the survivors who fought beside me? What about the multiverse's harmony, the beings who are just learning to coexist? I can't leave them. I can't trap myself in the core for eternity and watch them fight battles I should be fighting with them."
"The multiverse will not be left defenseless," the Unmaker said, its form solidifying as it spoke. "I will stay. I will guide Marcus and Jake, I will train the army of True Balances, I will mend the tapestry's frays and seal the rifts as they appear. You will not be alone in this—your energy will flow through the ward, through the multiverse, through every being who fights for harmony. You will be the heart of the multiverse, and we will be its hands."
Jake's voice came over the comms, softer this time, as if he had been listening. "Ryan, we know what the First One said. We know the choice you have to make. And we support you. Whatever you decide, we'll stand with you. But if you merge with the core… we'll make sure your sacrifice isn't in vain. We'll protect the multiverse. We'll honor you. We'll make you proud."
Marcus's voice joined Jake's, steady and resolute. "We've got this. You've given us the tools, the harmony, the strength to fight. Now, it's our turn to stand guard. You've done enough, Ryan. Let us take it from here."
Ryan closed his eyes, letting the First One's words, the Unmaker's promise, his friends' support wash over him. He thought of the slum kid on Earth, fighting to survive another day. He thought of the True Balance, standing against the Unmaker for the first time. He thought of the weaver of harmony, mending the multiverse's tapestry and breaking the Cosmic Tyrant's cycle. He thought of the Entropy Wraiths, of the nothingness that would consume everything if he did not choose the sacrifice.
He opened his eyes, his gaze fixed on the datacore, his resolve hardening. "I choose the multiverse," he said, his voice steady, his balanced energy flaring. "I choose to merge with the core. I choose to be the ward. But I have one condition: if the day comes when the Entropy Wraiths are defeated, when the Outside is sealed away forever, you will find a way to free me. Not for my sake, but for the sake of the choice—for the sake of proving that even eternity is not a cage."
The Unmaker nodded, its form flickering with emotion. "I swear it. We will find a way. We will free you. No matter how long it takes."
Ryan stepped toward the datacore, the mark on his palm burning as he merged his energy with it. The datacore surged, wrapping him in a cocoon of iridescent light, and the chamber shook as the multiverse's core responded, pulling him toward the Eternal Plane's heart. He looked back at the Unmaker, at the comms where he could hear Marcus and Jake's quiet goodbyes, and smiled.
"I'll be with you," he said, his voice echoing through the chamber, through the multiverse, through the very fabric of existence. "Always."
The cocoon of light lifted him, carrying him toward the multiverse's core—a massive, pulsing sphere of light and void, harmony and chaos, at the center of the Eternal Plane. As he merged with the core, a wave of energy surged outward, rippling through the multiverse's tapestry, strengthening the wards, sealing the rifts, pushing back the faint pulse from the Outside. He felt the multiverse's heartbeat, the pulse of every star, the breath of every being, and knew that he was home.
For days, the multiverse celebrated. The rifts remained sealed, the Entropy Wraiths' pulse faded into nothingness, and the army of True Balances grew, as beings from across the multiverse awakened to the harmony and joined the fight. Marcus and Jake led the fleet, rebuilding and expanding, while the Unmaker guided the scholars, unlocking the First One's remaining secrets and training the new True Balances in the ways of light, void, and harmony.
But the celebration was short-lived.
One night, as Jake was running scans of the multiverse's core, his crystal orb flared with an alarm. The core's energy was wavering, the ward was weakening, and a new rift—larger, darker, more powerful than any before—was tearing open in the Void Between Worlds. And from that rift, something emerged.
Not an Entropy Wraith, not a being of chaos, not a threat from the Outside.
A figure.
A humanoid figure, clad in a cloak of shifting shadows and light, its face hidden by a hood, its energy a mix of harmony and something else—something alien, something unknowable, something that matched the faint pulse from the Outside. It stood at the edge of the rift, its gaze fixed on the multiverse's core, on Ryan's prison, and spoke a single word—a word that echoed through the multiverse, through the core, through Ryan's very soul.
"Brother."
Ryan's eyes flew open (or at least, the essence of him that remained conscious within the core). He felt the figure's energy, felt the connection between them, felt the truth that the First One had hidden, that the Cosmic Tyrant had twisted, that the Unmaker had never known.
He was not alone.
He had a sibling.
A being forged from the same stuff as him, from light and void and harmony, from the First One's creation and the Outside's entropy. A being that had been trapped in the Outside for eons, waiting for the day when Ryan would merge with the core, waiting for the day when the ward would weaken, waiting for the day when it could reveal the truth.
The truth about the First One's lie.
The truth about the Cosmic Tyrant's game.
The truth about the multiverse's true purpose.
Marcus and Jake rushed to the bridge of the rebuilt "Balance's Dawn," their eyes fixed on the viewport as the figure stepped through the rift, its cloak billowing in the void's wind. The Unmaker materialized beside them, its form tensed, its energy flaring with a mix of fear and recognition.
"What is it?" Marcus asked, his energy sword glowing. "What does it want?"
The Unmaker shook its head, its voice filled with dread. "It is not a threat. Not yet. It is something older. Something closer to Ryan than any of us. And it holds the truth—a truth that will shatter everything we believe about the multiverse, about harmony, about Ryan's sacrifice."
The figure raised a hand, and a beam of light shot toward the multiverse's core, wrapping around it like a shield. The ward stabilized, the rift closed, and the figure's voice echoed through the ship, through the multiverse, through the core.
"Ryan, I am here to free you. To tell you the truth. To show you that the sacrifice was for nothing—that the First One lied, that the Cosmic Tyrant was a pawn, that the Outside is not the enemy. But first, you must choose. Choose to trust me. Choose to leave the core. Choose to face the truth… even if it destroys everything you have ever loved."
Ryan's essence stirred within the core. He felt the figure's energy, felt the connection, felt the truth lingering just beyond his grasp. He thought of Marcus and Jake, of the Unmaker, of the army of True Balances. He thought of the sacrifice he had made, of the eternity he had pledged.
And he thought of the choice—the choice that the First One had given him, the choice that the figure now offered him.
The choice to stay, to remain the ward, to protect the multiverse from a lie.
Or the choice to leave, to face the truth, to risk everything for a chance at something more.
The multiverse fell silent, waiting for his answer.
The figure stood at the edge of the void, waiting.
The Unmaker, Marcus, and Jake stood on the bridge of the "Balance's Dawn," waiting.
And within the multiverse's core, Ryan Harris—slum kid, True Balance, weaver of harmony, eternal ward—made his choice.
His essence surged, the core's energy flaring, the ward's light brightening for a single, brilliant moment.
And then, the core's energy wavered.
The ward weakened.
And a single, faint voice echoed through the multiverse—Ryan's voice, filled with resolve, with doubt, with the weight of a truth yet to be revealed.
"I'm coming."
The end… for now.