Special Chapter : Aleph Tohu's Story

Special Chapter

Narrator : "This chapter is very very special as dear people it does not follow the main storyline, what I want to explain is the dear story of Aleph Tohu"

Scene 1: The Ceiling and the Quiver

Aleph Tohu stared at the ceiling of his small room, his quiet grey eyes tracing the hairline cracks that wove through the stone above him. The morning rays crept in through the slits of the wooden shutters, painting warm streaks over the empty walls. His room was neat to the point of sterility—just a narrow cot, a rough woolen blanket, and a single wooden chest tucked neatly under the bed. Everything he owned was either on his body or beneath that cot. The only sound was the faint hum of wind outside, a gentle whisper that seemed to call his name.

But today, the air felt heavier, the kind of weight that settled not on your chest but deeper—in your gut, where doubt and hope wrestled for dominance. He'd tried to sleep it off, but his thoughts had kept him hostage all night. The mission was today. After months of preparation, failure wasn't just unthinkable; it was unacceptable.

"Worrying won't make the wind blow faster," Aaron's voice rumbled from the open doorway, pulling Aleph from his thoughts. A golem stood there, towering and immovable, his dark, stone-like skin catching the first light of day. It housed the spirit of a 350-year-old wizard, a true prodigy in earth magic of his time. His arms, crossed over his chest, seemed carved from obsidian, every muscle an artist's masterstroke.

"Worrying? No way," Aleph lied with a grin. "That was deep meditation." Aleph swung his legs off the cot. His toes brushed the cold stone floor, sending a shiver up his spine.

Aaron raised an eyebrow, a feat that seemed almost impossible for a man whose body occasionally reshaped itself into talons or hammers. "Meditation. That what you call staring at a ceiling for hours now?"

Aleph grinned, his teeth bright against his dark skin. "What can I say? I like ceilings. They're… steady. Reliable."

Aaron snorted, the closest thing to a laugh he ever managed. "Get your things. The others are already at the guild hall. Faith's been sharpening arrows since dawn, and Mesh… well, Mesh's being Mesh."

Aleph stood, grabbing his robes from the edge of the bed and draping them over his lean, muscular frame. The fabric rustled faintly, like leaves caught in a gentle breeze. "So, brooding and shirtless?"

"Brooding and shirtless," Aaron confirmed. He stepped back, letting Aleph pass through the door. "Do me a favor today, Aleph. Don't get yourself killed."

"Don't worry, Captain," Aleph replied, his tone light, but his eyes betraying the weight he carried. "I plan to be very much alive by the end of this."

The guild hall was already bustling by the time they arrived. Esau's Quiver had claimed a corner table, its members each radiating their own peculiar presence. Faith was there first, as always, her slender frame perched on a stool as she inspected an arrow's fletching. Her skin, marked with shifting patches of discoloration, caught the light like ripples on water. Her focus was absolute, her green eyes darting between the arrow and her blade as she trimmed it with surgical precision.

"You've been sharpening that same arrow for an hour," Aleph said as he approached, plopping down on the bench opposite her. "Hoping it'll turn into a magic wand?"

Faith didn't look up, but the corner of her mouth twitched. "And you look like you haven't slept. Hoping your charm will carry you through the day?"

"It always does," Aleph shot back, leaning on the table. "Besides, I've got you to watch my back. What's there to worry about?"

"Plenty," she muttered, finally looking up. Her expression softened slightly. "Don't get reckless, Aleph. This mission is different."

Before he could respond, a gust of air swept through the hall, announcing Mesh's arrival. The half-vampire strode in shirtless, as always, his bronze skin glistening faintly as if he'd been kissed by the sun itself. His long, dark hair flowed behind him, moving as though it had a life of its own. He radiated confidence—and maybe a touch of smugness.

"Morning," Mesh drawled, his voice a rich baritone. He dropped onto the bench beside Aleph, leaning back so far it was a wonder he didn't topple over. "Ready to make history?"

"That depends," Aleph replied. "You planning on staying awake long enough to help?"

Mesh grinned, his fangs catching the light. "I'll do my part. Just make sure you keep up."

Aaron arrived last, his heavy footsteps a quiet reminder of his commanding presence. He placed a hand on the table, his gaze sweeping over the group. "We move in an hour. Check your gear, double-check your packs, and meet me at the gate. No distractions. No delays."

"What about the twins? Where are they?" Mesh asked, feigning some level of innocence.

"They are already at the World Temple," Aaron answered. "They restocked the consumables on their way there and prepared for our arrival."

As the group dispersed, Aleph lingered for a moment, watching his teammates. They weren't just his comrades; they were his family. And today, they would face the unknown together.

This is act 2

Scene 2 : Cards, Conviction, and the World Temple

The sun climbed higher as the group made their way along the dirt path. Mesh and Aleph, walking slightly ahead, were locked in an animated debate.

"I'm telling you," Aleph insisted, gesturing wildly, "women are most interested in someone who listens. You know, someone who actually pays attention to what they're saying."

Mesh scoffed, a lopsided grin spreading across his face. "That might work for you, but trust me, it's confidence. A man who knows what he wants and isn't afraid to take it."

Aleph rolled his eyes. "Oh, right. Like you're some kind of expert."

"I don't need to be an expert," Mesh replied, his voice dripping with smugness. "I've got results."

As if on cue, Mesh caught Faith's eye and flashed her a charming smile. To Aleph's dismay, a faint blush crept across her cheeks before she quickly turned away.

"See?" Mesh said, his grin widening. "Confidence."

Faith, visibly off-put by Mesh's arrogance, shot Mesh a pointed look. "And just like that, you have proved your talent for being instantly disgusting. Like shit on a shoe."

Mesh blinked, caught off guard. "What? I—"

"Exactly," Faith said, her tone cutting. She turned back to her pack, leaving Mesh to stew in his own discomfort.

Aleph smirked, the earlier jealousy fading into satisfaction. "Exxxaacctttlly." He slurred, getting in Mesh's face to rub in his disorientation as much as he could.

Their banter was cut short as the group approached the threshold of the World Temple. Even from a distance, the structure was awe-inspiring—a massive stone edifice carved into the side of a sheer cliff. Towering pillars, each etched with intricate runes, lined the temple's facade, their surfaces glowing faintly with an ancient, otherworldly light. The air around them seemed to hum with energy, a low, resonant vibration that settled deep in their bones.

The path led them through a sprawling courtyard, its flagstones worn smooth by centuries of footsteps. Statues of forgotten gods and heroes loomed overhead, their faces weathered but their presence undeniable. At the center of the courtyard stood the temple's main entrance—a massive archway framed by two colossal stone doors.

As they approached, they saw Kli locked in a heated argument with a pair of guards stationed at the entrance. The guards, clad in polished armor, looked unimpressed, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords.

"I'm telling you," Kli was saying, her voice rising with frustration, "we've already paid the fees. We're just here to restock and use the Placement Altar." A sparrow hopped angrily between her shoulders, as if equally frustrated but for reasons known only to itself, adding a bizarre punctuation to her every angry gesture.

The taller of the two guards snorted. "Fees don't cover everything." He dramatically eyed Kli over and let his eyes land on one of the smaller bags she was carrying. "If you want to pass, you'll have to make due."

Mesh frowned, his hand instinctively growing to a form sharper than a weapon as he was getting into range. "This isn't worth the time."

But before he could intervene, Aleph stepped forward, a wide grin spreading across his face.

"Hey, don't I know you? Weren't you the guy I played cards with at that bar last winter? You know, the night we got so drunk we swore to be best friends?"

The guards exchanged a glance, their suspicion melting into confusion over who he was referring to.

Aleph clapped the taller guard on the shoulder. "Of course it was you! I'd never forget a face like that. We painted the streets with the smell of booze, and it took all four legs to walk straight!! What was it, Ralon? Or… Talon? Something heroic."

The shorter guard scratched his head. "Yeah, it's Talon."

"Exactly!" Aleph said smoothly, turning his attention to the shorter guard, his enthusiasm infectious. "You saved me from losing my entire stash that night. I owe you one. Let me buy you back a round of drinks 2-3 weeks from now. I'm serious."

The guards chuckled, their stances relaxing.

"Well, I guess there's no harm in letting you through. You remember the bar we went to? What was it called again?" the taller guard tested.

"Of course, of course," Aleph said, waving dismissively. "Besides, you guys regularly pass by my place, a short walk from there. I've been just too busy preparing for this mission to trouble you."

The guards found themselves subconsciously giving way to Aleph as he began walking past them. The rest of his team followed suit without even a hint dropped, showing their prize teamwork in action.

"Don't forget, alright? You're my lucky item, so I'll need you," Aleph shouted back, like they had been long-time friends, buying more time to put more distance between the group and the guards.

Mesh walked to Kli's side to see if she was okay, and the sparrow landed on his shoulder.

"Hey Kan, did they give her too much trouble?" he said, looking at the bird.

"I can speak for myself," Kli said, stealing back his attention. She gave him an assuring glance and continued to walk forward, a little flustered. The bird fluttered about his shoulder and flew to Aleph, who greeted her warmly.

Mesh stepped forward to catch up with Kli, his hand hovering near her elbow. "You alright?" he asked softly, his voice low enough for only her to hear. She nodded without meeting his eyes, but he kept close, just in case.

Out of earshot, Faith shot Aleph a sidelong glance. "Do you actually know those guards?"

"Not a chance," Aleph replied, his grin widening. "One of my best lies yet."

The World Temple's interior was even more breathtaking than its exterior. The main chamber stretched high into the heavens, its domed ceiling painted with constellations that seemed to shift and shimmer in the faint light. Massive columns supported the structure, their surfaces carved with depictions of long-forgotten legends.

At the center of the chamber stood an enclosed structure, its stone walls smooth and unadorned. A single archway led inside, flanked by two guards who stood as still as statues.

Aaron led the group toward the enclosed structure, his heavy footsteps echoing in the vast space. The guards at the archway nodded but made no move to stop them. No one, it seemed, was allowed to approach the Place Altar unless through proper channels.

Inside, the group found themselves alone with the Place Altar. The structure was simple—a raised dais carved from the same stone as the temple, its surface etched with glowing runes. The air around it seemed to vibrate with latent energy, a hum that resonated in their very bones.

Aaron stepped forward, his voice low and steady. "Our objectives are clear. Ether crystals, monster skins, and any Losts—structures, engravings, anything that can be documented. But our primary goal is the plant."

"The one rumored to cure every toxin and rewrite curses?" Faith asked, her voice tinged with skepticism.

Aaron nodded. "If the pamphlets are to be believed, yes. It's said to break curses down to their base runes, allowing them to be rewritten—or exploited. That's why it's so valuable. And dangerous."

The group exchanged glances, a mix of determination and unease passing between them.

Aaron placed a hand on the altar, the runes flaring brighter under his touch. "Ready?"

The group nodded, their resolve firm. Together, they activated the altar, the light engulfing them as the teleportation spell took hold.

Scene 3: Claws, Chaos, and the Climax of the Hunt

Aleph's lungs burned as he dodged the paw of a charging dire bear. His boots dug into the damp earth as he stumbled to regain his footing. The chaos of the battle around him faded into a dull roar as he focused on the bear's eye, dark and filled with rage. His chest heaved as he gripped his runed spear tightly, muttering a string of curses under his breath.

Why did it always have to be bears?

He held the runed spear tightly, channeling his thoughts into the weapon—using his knowledge of magic to enhance his fighting. The runes along the spear glowed faintly before a vacuum tube shot forward, blurring the air with its force. Out of it flew a distorted shape that zipped toward the bear's face.

The moment the object popped out the other end of the tube, it expanded into a goblin mid-air. The goblin snarled, its small blade slashing viciously at the bear's nose and remaining eye. The beast bellowed in agony, swinging its claws to defend itself. The goblin nimbly flipped backward, avoiding the swipe, and landed on the ground with a wicked grin. Just as it touched down, Aleph's spear hurtled into the bear's abdomen, sinking deep—but not enough to bring it down.

"Dammit," Aleph cursed under his breath. No time to celebrate the goblin's precision. He yanked a pair of runed daggers from his belt and charged forward. The air around him seemed to crackle with the intensity of his focus.

"Can someone give me a hand?!" he shouted over the noise of the battle. Without waiting for a reply, he dove under the bear's massive frame, narrowly avoiding being crushed. Swiftly turning and jumping up, he plunged his daggers into its thick hide for leverage, dragging himself upward. Blood splattered his face as the beast thrashed, trying to shake him off.

Below, the goblin launched itself into the air again, this time transforming mid-leap. Its twisted features gave way to the familiar form of Kan. She landed beside Aleph, her short sword flashing as she drove it into the wound he had been carving deeper.

"I really hope this isn't your idea of a plan!" Kan shouted, her voice barely audible over the bear's enraged roars.

Together, they hacked at the creature, their movements synchronized as if rehearsed a hundred times before.

The bear's thrashing grew more desperate as a new force entered the fray. A towering, gorilla-like structure made of earth and stone barreled into the creature, grabbing the spear embedded in its abdomen and driving it deeper. The beast's roars of pain reached a fever pitch as it reared forward, attempting to crush the stone construct with its massive arms.

"Hold on!" Aleph yelled to Kan.

Before she could reply, Aleph's eyes glowed a faint gray as he concentrated, and the ground beneath the bear collapsed into a violent vacuum, pulling the beast downward.

It crashed into the earth with a sickening thud, the spear's tip erupting from its back near Aleph's head. He stumbled slightly as he sat up on top of the bear, panting heavily as the battle's intensity began to ebb.

Surveying the battlefield, Aleph spotted Mesh—in his monstrous combat form, barely resembling his usual self. He had grown more animalistic, his features sharpened as he sat atop a torn mass of fur and flesh, licking blood from his claws. Nearby, the third bear hung limp, a massive ash-colored emerald arrow protruding through its eye and into the ground, leaving it standing upright. He also noticed Klin's attacks, evident in the discolored veins around the wound and multiple parts of the corpse.

Aleph exhaled deeply, relief washing over him. Before he could speak, Kan—still perched on the bear's back alongside him, maintaining her gaze skyward—said, "That goblin trick only works on smaller targets," she quipped, though her tone carried an edge of exhaustion. "Maybe next time, just use your head. It's big enough to flatten one of these things on its own."

He snorted but said nothing, following her gaze to the large, insect-like creature descending from the sky. It landed nearby, its body twitching with unsettling speed as it landed next to them.

A groan from beneath Aleph and Kan made them leap off the bear. The massive creature shifted slightly before rolling over. From within the battered remains of the beast emerged Aaron, his form shifting from a gorilla's hulking mass back to his human frame. He stood unsteadily, his body covered in dirt and blood, his breaths labored.

High above, on a precariously thin branch of a towering tree, sat Faith. Her sharp eyes scanned the horizon as she signaled with precise hand gestures. Aaron nodded in understanding.

"The plant's been spotted," he said, his voice gravelly but steady. "Seventeen days out here, and we're finally at the endgame."

Aleph wiped the sweat from his brow as he joined in the affirming unison response from the team, a shared word of resolve that carried the weight of their mission.

Aaron nodded, satisfied, but before Aleph could take a step, Kan turned back to him with a smirk, eager to pick up their interrupted banter. Her words faltered as her body shimmered, and in a blink, she was replaced by a fox. The small creature whirled on its heels, glaring at where the insect had been, and there stood Klin's human form, now standing innocently by Mesh.

Mesh, catching Kan's reaction, started toward Klin with a quizzical look. "Klin, charming as you may be, I don't think…" he began, but before he could finish, her form shifted—suddenly she was a goat. The goat bleated melodramatically and trotted toward Kan, its posture almost accusatory.

"Hey, I wasn't done talking there! Why did you shift me?" Kan's voice was sharp with irritation. The goat gave another exaggerated bleat, now stamping its hoof into the ground and standing in place out of defiance.

"I don't care how weird the insect form is!" Kan continued. "You didn't even let me know. I was shifted all day! Why are you pretending that you have all kinds of ether reserves anyway?"

Before Kan could say more, the goat bleated melodramatically and shimmered back into Klin's human form, who brushed imaginary dust from her sleeve and turned back around to face Mesh. At the exact same instant, Kan was turned into a small frog, landing with a plop on Aleph's boot. The frog puffed up, croaking deeply in a way that sounded oddly like an affronted huff.

"Enough," Aaron's firm voice cut through the chaotic exchange, silencing everyone. "Klin, scout ahead with Faith and guide us forward. We need to focus."

Klin gave an exaggerated shrug and strode off, her expression inscrutable before taking a new form. Faith leapt gracefully from the high branches she had perched on, her movements as silent as the shadows themselves. A raven joined her mid-flight, its wings cutting through the air with eerie precision.

The rest of the team salvaged what they could from the dire bear corpses, efficiently packing up materials and supplies before following Faith's lead deeper into the forest.

Scene 4: Void

The scenery shifted as they moved. Ether dust floated in the air like suspended constellations, casting faint glimmers that danced with the sunlight pouring through the canopy above. Patches of light pooled on the forest floor, painting it with a surreal glow. Trees loomed tall and ancient, their bark threaded with veins of shimmering ether, creating an otherworldly sense of life pulsing through the forest.

They pressed on until they reached a vast clearing—a field of flowers stretching out like a vibrant ocean. The blooms swayed gently in a breeze that seemed to carry whispers of something ancient and powerful. At the center stood a singular plant, taller and more imposing than any other. Its flowers glistened like molten metal, droplets of liquid light sliding down to its roots, nourishing it in a way that defied natural law.

The team instinctively dropped into battle stances, their bodies taut with readiness. Aaron turned his head just slightly, his voice low as he asked, "Aleph, are you ready?"

Aleph nodded, frustration flickering in his eyes. "Yes," he muttered, the affirmation tinged with the sting of self-awareness. He hated that Aaron felt the need to ask, but he swallowed his pride.

Aaron raised a hand and signaled for a cautious approach. The group moved in a loose skirmish line, their steps deliberate and silent. Klin circled the team silently and low. They reached the plant without incident, their breaths collectively held as they began their work.

The tension was palpable, each member moving with the utmost care to extract what they could—liquid metal, petals, roots—anything they could harvest without damaging the plant beyond recovery. A noticeable hole formed in the center of the stalk, but it seemed that it would hold and regenerate over the seasons.

No one spoke. The silence was heavy, a tacit agreement that words might invite disaster. They worked quickly, efficiently, and when they had gathered enough, they began their retreat. The field felt heavier with every step back, the sense of foreboding deepening as they crossed the threshold back into the forest.

The instant they stepped beyond the field, the vibrant ether clouds dispersed, transforming into swirling black ash. The trees, once alive with shimmering veins, turned a stark, lifeless grey. A chill ran through the air, and an oppressive silence descended, robbing the world of sound.

Faith froze mid-step, her body trembling as her heightened senses recoiled from the abrupt shift. Her eyes darted to Aaron, who had already adjusted his stance, signaling for the group to tighten their formation.

"Stay alert," Aaron said, his voice barely above a whisper but carrying the weight of command. The team nodded, their movements tense as they prepared for whatever might come next.

The group moved in grim silence, the tension in the air thick enough to slice. The decaying field of flowers loomed closer, its haunting stillness radiating dread. Mesh noticed Kan stumble slightly but steadied herself, her face pale yet determined. He thought it was nothing and glanced at Klin, knowing that if anything happened to one twin, the other would be affected.

As they walked on, Aaron turned to Faith. "What's the residue ether flow like?" His voice carried a trace of concern. But when he looked at her, her expression stopped him short. Surprise and an unfamiliar vitality radiated from her.

Faith whispered, almost too softly to hear, "There's no ether residue."

The group froze, the shock palpable. Their eyes darted toward Faith, taking in her unblemished skin, devoid of the usual patches and marks left by ether exposure. They stood there, taking it all in.

"How is that possible?" Aleph's voice broke the silence. "I can still sense that I'm in full condition to use my magic at will."

Aaron frowned. "No, I feel a massive decay in my vessel's integrity." He shook his head slowly, deep in thought, before grim determination steeled over his expression once more. "If anything happens to me, Faith will take command."

The gravity of Aaron's words drained the color from their faces, but they nodded in affirmation, adhering to combat protocol. Shaken, the group began scanning their surroundings with heightened vigilance. Some inspected their supplies, searching for anything that might explain their predicament.

Kan noticed that her main weapon was dropped further back. She looked to Aaron for permission and got an affirming nod, then motioned in its direction.

"I'll get it," Mesh intercepted, moving silently to retrieve it.

Aaron then motioned for them to quicken their pace and leave the area. Just as they hurried, Kan suddenly stumbled, coughing violently, blood staining her lips. The three immediately rushed her to the nearest cover and sat her down. She tried to assure them with a weak smile, shakily drinking an elixir, but shock gripped her allies when they couldn't find any injuries on her.

"Where is the damage?" Faith asked while inspecting her.

"I'm fine, the elixir will do its work. Something just feels wrong with the air. I can't seem to muster strength from ether," Kan responded. Then her expression shifted to one of growing horror. "Where is Klin?"

Faith pressed her down from rising too quickly. "I'm sure Mesh would know." She scanned the area, her concern deepening.

"I don't think we can get that answer right now," Aleph said grimly, confirming the absence of yet another member.

Aaron, understanding the onset of an unknown danger, immediately took action.

"We are staying put," he commanded. "We need more information on the current situation."

He glanced at Aleph, and they quickly pulled out investigative pamphlets, initiating a series of diagnostic spells. Faith assumed a defensive position. A few moments passed before Aaron began.

"There's an extra-dimensional ether flow in this area, but what's unique—and impossible—is that it has a macroscopic vector. Anything of this magnitude will zero any flux in the field."

Aleph nodded, his gaze locking on Aaron. "Moving against that flow will decay any kind of complexity in us, and using any meta-ability will speed the decay exponentially." His voice wavered with realization. "If we sit idly, we will decay into nothing in a matter of time. And we can't use our powers, but without them, it could take us weeks to get back—maybe a month."

Aaron squared his shoulders. "We'll figure a way out." He adjusted his pamphlet and continued, "Notice how all ether nuclei are being drawn to a singular point—a nexus deep within the field we left. Ether nuclei are the seed for complexity. And that much complexity means that there is new life there. And a powerful one at that."

Faith's sharp intake of breath caught everyone's attention. "New life? So it's some kind of entity. But we're talking about a huge area of anomaly. Nothing happened on our way here, so where does its range end?"

Before Aleph could respond, Kan let out a low gasp, clutching her chest. Her eyes widened in panic as she whispered, "Klin… Mesh…"

Aaron's jaw tightened. "We can't waste any more time. Aleph, keep decoding those readings to find the limits of its range. Faith, take the lead and scan the path ahead. Kan, you're staying in formation behind me. Move!"

The group pressed forward, the oppressive silence broken only by the crunch of dead leaves beneath their boots. Faith's eyes darted between the trees, her bowstring taut as she tracked every flicker of movement.

Aleph's voice broke the tension. "Aaron, I think I've found something."

Aaron stopped and strode over to Aleph, who held out the pamphlet with trembling hands. "The Ether nuclei are being consumed. Not just redirected."

Aaron nearly reprimanded Aleph for distraction but glanced at the readings. He pulled out a more complex pamphlet, furrowing his brow in disbelief.

"This doesn't make sense. This is… impossible."

Before Aleph could question him, Faith signaled toward the field.

The greyed trees and flowers were gone. In their place remained only darkness, inching toward them.

Aaron's expression darkened. His voice remained steady. "Status?"

Faith whispered, "There's nothing there."

"Explain."

"It's neither beast nor spirit, but actual nothingness—a manifestation of the void itself."

Before anyone could react, the deep darkness surged forward and consumed them.

Scene 5: One with the Void

The darkness did not strike—it swallowed.

A suffocating silence enveloped the group as the void surged over them like an unholy tide. Their bodies tensed, reflexively reaching for weapons, magic, anything—but nothing came. Ether refused to obey, their power severed at the source. The very concept of resistance eroded as the void seeped into their being.

Kan let out a strangled gasp before she crumpled, her form dissolving into the abyss. Her eyes were wide, uncomprehending, even as the last remnants of her existence unraveled. Mesh was next—no scream, no final defiance, only the quiet unraveling of his essence as he was unmade.

Faith loosed an arrow into the darkness. It never landed. She gritted her teeth, eyes burning with helplessness as she tried to move Aaron, but even he was fading—his presence flickering like a dying ember.

"Aaron!" she screamed, reaching for him.

He turned to her, calm even in the face of annihilation. His lips moved, but no sound came. His form warped, his structure undone, his body sinking into the void with an unnatural slowness, as if he had accepted the inevitable.

Faith fought. She fought with everything—tried to command ether, tried to move, tried to simply exist—but the abyss was relentless. Her skin flaked away into nothingness, her form breaking apart into something less than dust. Even as she faded, her eyes remained locked on Aleph, standing untouched amidst the consuming blackness.

Aleph did not fight.

He did not struggle, nor did he flinch.

Instead, he listened.

The void whispered—not in words, but in an overwhelming stillness. It did not hunger, nor did it rage. It simply was. An endless, incomprehensible existence beyond the framework of anything that had ever lived.

And it was welcoming him.

As the last vestiges of his team disappeared, Aleph did not scream. He did not mourn. He merely opened himself to the emptiness. Where the others had resisted and been erased, Aleph allowed the abyss to take him. But unlike them, he did not dissolve.

He changed.

Ether, magic, reality—none of it held meaning within the void. The concepts were erased, rewritten, reshaped. The essence that once defined Aleph crumbled and reformed. His body dissipated, but his awareness expanded. He no longer needed a form. No longer needed breath, or thought, or life as it had been known before.

He became nothing.

And in nothing, he became everything.

For the first time, Aleph understood. The void was not destruction. It was not death. It was the purest form of existence—unbound, unrestricted, eternal. It was the fundamental truth beneath all things.

And he was now part of it.

The forest, the flowers, the ether—they were gone. Only an infinite blackness remained, stretching beyond space, beyond time, beyond even the idea of existence itself.

Where Aleph had once stood, a whisper echoed through the void.

A whisper that was neither voice nor sound.

A whisper that was the void itself.

"I am."

Scene 6: The Hollow One

Aleph drifted in the void, unbound by time, untouched by reality. He saw the world—its endless cycles of struggle, its meaningless conflicts, its fragile, fleeting lives. He had once fought for it, bled for it, died for it. And yet, in the end, none of it had mattered.

His team—Faith, Aaron, Kan, Mesh, Klin—they had resisted. They had clung to their existence, believing they could fight against the inevitable. But the void had no mercy, no patience for defiance. It had consumed them without effort, without hesitation.

Just as it would consume everything.

Aleph had tried to save them. Had tried to be part of something greater. But what had that given him? Nothing but loss. Nothing but the cold realization that teamwork, camaraderie, friendship—these were illusions crafted by weak beings to give their fleeting lives a semblance of meaning.

But meaning was a lie.

The world had abandoned him. The team had died, proving their weakness. And now, all that remained was him.

The void whispered, not in words, but in truths deeper than language. It did not mourn. It did not care. It simply was. And as Aleph existed within it, he began to see the world for what it truly was.

A cycle of endless suffering.

A pathetic, fragile illusion pretending to be important.

And the people—how they clung to their pathetic bonds, believing in unity, in trust, in hope.

He had been one of them once. He had believed.

But now?

He despised it.

All of it.

He had been blind, but the void had opened his eyes. He had been weak, but now, he understood.

Teams were shackles. Companionship was a crutch. The world was nothing but a rotting corpse, unaware of its own decay.

And he would no longer be bound by its falsehoods.

The void pulsed around him, recognizing the shift in his thoughts, welcoming his new understanding. He no longer needed faith, trust, or allies. He needed only himself.

And the world—no, the multiverse—would soon understand the same truth.

They were all doomed to be consumed.

Just as his team had been.

Just as everything would be.

Aleph opened his eyes—though he no longer had eyes in the way mortals did. The void moved with him, bending to his will.

He had no need for emotion.

No need for bonds.

No need for anything.

He would watch. He would wait.

And when the time came, he would show them the truth.

The world had taken everything from him.

And now, he would return the favor.

Scene 7: The Gate to Giotaku Oyomakitru

Aleph stood at the precipice of nothingness, the void stretching endlessly in all directions. Time held no meaning here—nor did space, nor form. He had become something beyond human, beyond mortal understanding. Yet even in his detachment, something stirred.

A ripple.

A fracture in the void itself.

Aleph turned, though he had no need for movement in this place. Before him, the darkness cracked, forming jagged lines of white energy, pulsing with an unfamiliar force. The void did not break—it consumed, erased, reduced all things to absence. And yet, this anomaly did not succumb.

A gateway began to take shape, swirling with deep azure and streaks of glowing crimson, forming intricate patterns that spiraled outward like veins through an exposed wound in reality.

It was a portal.

And beyond it, a world unlike any Aleph had seen.

Giotaku Oyomakitru.

The name appeared in his mind, though not as words, but as an absolute truth—etched into his awareness by forces beyond even the void's influence.

This world was not ordinary.

It was neither fully material nor wholly abstract. Its lands stretched in directions that defied Euclidean logic, rivers flowing upward, skies folding into themselves. Massive structures floated in place, temples of stone and metal etched with ever-shifting runes. Towers twisted, stretching endlessly into nothing, as if attempting to pierce the very fabric of existence.

And at its heart, a presence.

Something powerful.

Something that should not be.

Aleph's form wavered, the void around him resisting, as if warning him against stepping through. But he was beyond warnings. He was beyond fear.

The world had taken everything from him.

And now, he would see if this one was any different.

Without hesitation, Aleph stepped forward.

And Giotaku Oyomakitru welcomed him.

Scene 8: The Fractured Mind of Aleph

Time in Giotaku Oyomakitru did not pass—it shifted, bending to unseen whims. Aleph had wandered its ever-changing landscapes for what felt like lifetimes, yet he had not aged. He had not hungered. He had not tired.

At first, he sought meaning. Perhaps this world held some grand answer to existence. But the longer he stayed, the more he understood.

There was no meaning.

There was only power.

And he had gained much of it.

The void that once threatened to erase him had instead become part of him, woven into his very being. He saw through illusions, through lies, through the very fabric of reality.

And then, one day, he saw through worlds.

At first, it was only flashes—glimpses into places that should not exist. A knight battling an army of gods. A warlord splitting galaxies in half. A beast devouring a dying sun.

But then, he saw them.

A team of four—The Omni Voyagers.

They stood together, bound by trust, their strength legendary. Each wielded impossible abilities, their powers vast enough to shape realities themselves. Yet, despite all their strength, they were not alone.

They had love.

Each of them had a partner, a soulmate, someone who understood them, stood beside them, fought for them. They laughed together. They triumphed together.

And Aleph watched.

And watched.

And watched.

Something within him cracked.

A monstrous rage took root, spreading through his hollowed soul like a disease. Why did they get to have companionship? Why did they get to have happiness? Why did they get to live in a world that hadn't torn them apart?

It wasn't fair.

His breathing grew ragged, though he no longer needed breath. His fingers curled into fists, though he no longer needed form.

He hated them.

He despised them.

And he would end them.

His newfound vision expanded, searching through the infinite lattice of realities. If he could see them, then surely… he could reach them.

A wicked grin stretched across his face, his mind spiraling deeper into madness.

He had nothing.

So he would take everything from them.

Narrator : "So that is the story of the void incarnate. Well, atleast he's friends with the Voyagers. Aleph Tohu once an enemy but now he accepts peace and a life of simplicity. I'm so sorry for the long chapter have a blessed day."