When Creation is a Toy

The next day, I stand outside in the early morning light, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated after a night of rest.

My parents are with me, and I take a moment to explain the power boost I had given them some time ago. I tell them the extent of their abilities and what they are capable of now that they have access to the immense power I transferred to them.

I tell my parents that with their enhanced abilities, they are now capable of manipulating creation and destruction itself, and can fly across the entire multiverse and back. They listen with a mixture of excitement and wonder, clearly awe-struck by the power that I have bestowed upon them.

I look at my parents and smile, feeling a sense of pride and satisfaction at their reactions.

"Alright then, go ahead and try. Spread your wings and fly. See what you're capable of now."

Once he is gone, I turn to my mom, who is watching with a curious expression on her face. She looks at me, clearly wondering what I could possibly need her for.

I look at my mom, my expression serious.

"I need you to stay with me for a moment. I have something important to discuss with you."

My mom looks at me with a mixture of curiosity and anticipation, clearly interested in what I have to say.

I look at my mom and smirk, a wicked gleam in my eye.

"Mom, try something for me. Manipulate the entire storyline."

My mom's eyes widen, surprised and intrigued by my request. Sweetheart are you sure that's a very high request. 

I reach out and grab my mom's hand, pulling her close to me. Then, with a flash of energy, we both disappear and reappear in the story nexus, a place that lies at the very heart of all narrative stories themselves.

Once we appear, my mom looks around in wonder, taking in the vast, infinite landscape of stories and narratives that stretch out in all directions. The power of the story nexus hums and crackles around us, and I can feel the weight of every story ever written and untold in this place.

I look at my mom, sensing her awe and wonder as she takes in the vast panorama of stories around us.

"Quite a sight, isn't it?"

My mom nods, her eyes wide as she gazes out at the endless landscape of stories.

"It's...breathtaking. I can feel the power of every story, every narrative, every character that's ever been written. It's overwhelming."

I turn to my mom, my expression serious and focused.

"Try this. Absorb the whole story nexus. Take in all its power, all its knowledge, all its energy and make it your own."

My mom's expression is one of shock and confusion. She looks at me, clearly not expecting to be asked to do something so enormous.

"Absorb the entire story nexus?! That's... that's a lot of power. I don't know if I can do that."

I look at her, my expression firm and determined.

"You can do it. I believe in you. You're strong enough, powerful enough. Just focus your energy and will, and absorb it all into yourself."

My mom hesitates for a moment, unsure and uncertain. But then, she nods resolutely and gets serious.

"Alright. I'll try. I'll do it."

She focuses all her energy and power on the story nexus, trying to absorb its vast and immense power. As she concentrates, the energy of the story nexus seems to flow towards her, as if drawn to her by her will and power. It's like a river of energy and power, streaming in her direction, funneling into her. The air crackles with energy, the ground beneath us trembles, and the entire realm seems to shiver with the force of her absorption.

I stand there, watching and sensing the incredible power being absorbed by my mom. I can feel the raw, overwhelming energy flowing through her, transforming her, changing her, making her stronger and more powerful with every moment that passes.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the absorption is complete. The energy and power of the story nexus is gone, replaced by an incredible power that now resides within my mom. She stands there, shaking a bit, clearly affected by the sheer magnitude of the power she has just consumed.

I look at my mom with admiration, proud at her accomplishment. She has done something extraordinary, something that has changed her very being.

"You're incredible, mom. You've absorbed the power of the story nexus, the very concept of fiction itself. You are now the embodiment of every story ever written and untold, every character, every narrative. You are truly limitless now."

I speak firmly, my tone serious and yet reassuring.

"Mom, listen to me. You don't need to worry about any responsibility or obligation. That power is yours, and you can use it for whatever you want. It's your choice. Whether you want to use it to create new stories, change existing ones, or leave things as they are, it's up to you. You have the power to shape reality itself."

My mom looks at me, her expression a mixture of shock and relief. She clearly hadn't expected this, hadn't realized the true extent of her power and the freedom that came with it. She seems both excited and a bit overwhelmed by the possibilities now open to her.

I smile gently, sensing her emotions, her feelings.

"Don't worry about what to do with this power. Just take some time, explore, and experiment. See what it can do. You're the concept of fiction itself now. The possibilities are endless."

My mom, now the living embodiment of fiction itself, looks at me wide-eyed, clearly both overwhelmed and excited by her newfound power.

"I don't even know what to say. I mean, I never expected this. I never thought I'd be able to have so much power, so much influence over every story and narrative ever told..."

She shakes her head in wonder, as if still trying to understand the full implications of her situation. Then, she looks at me, her expression suddenly serious and thoughtful.

"Wait a minute. If I'm the concept of fiction itself, does that mean I can manipulate your story too?"

I smirk playfully and shrug.

"Well, technically, you could manipulate my story, but I'm kinda off the charts now, you know? Beyond the idea of any narrative or storyline. So, good luck with that."

My mom smiles back, amused and a bit baffled by my response. She can sense the truth in my words, the fact that I have transcended the very idea of narrative and storytelling.

"Yeah, I guess I can see that. So you're, what, outside the realm of fiction now?"

I shake my head, correcting her assumption.

"Not just beyond the realm of fiction, but the very idea of it. I've transcended the concept of narrative and storyline itself. So, trying to manipulate my story would be like trying to change the very essence of reality. It's not impossible, but it's pretty damn close."

I grin and shrug, my tone playful and nonchalant.

"Just Mona Fry, your daughter. That's all. No big deal, right?"

My mom looks at me, rolling her eyes in mild exasperation at my carefree attitude.

"No big deal? Are you kidding? You just transcended the very idea of narrative! That's a pretty big deal, you know."

I speak simply, my tone matter-of-fact.

"Yeah, not just the idea of narrative, but the very concept of ideas and even thought itself. I've transcended everything, basically. So, you know, no biggie."

My mom looks at me, her eyes wide with amazement and disbelief.

"That's... insane. How is that even possible? How can you transcend something as fundamental as ideas and thought itself?"

I smirk, my expression confident and relaxed. With a simple gesture, I create the concept of infinity itself, and then turn to my mom.

Because I'm just the Abyess paradox. No big deal, right?"

My mom stares at me, her eyes even wider than before. She looks both fascinated and a little bit scared.

"The Abyess paradox? Like, the personification of the very concept of infinity and paradox? How is that even possible?"

I correct her gently, my tone firm.

"Not just infinity, but the very concept of everything itself. I am the manifestation of all that is, was, and will be. I am the ultimate paradox itself."

My mom looks at me, her expression a mix of awe, shock, and uncertainty. The sheer scale of what I'm telling her is overwhelming, almost incomprehensible.

"The manifestation of everything? The ultimate paradox itself? It's...it's too much. I can't even wrap my mind around it. How does that even work?"

I raise my hand and release the absolute paradox. The very fabric of reality warps and shifts, as if it cannot comprehend the concept that I have just unleashed. The very air around us seems to vibrate with the power of the absolute paradox, as if the very universe itself is struggling to contain its presence. My mom watches in sheer awe, her mind trying to wrap itself around the enormity of what she is witnessing.

Slowly, the absolute paradox begins to solidify, taking shape and form. Reality itself seems bent around it, as if it is the center of gravity in a universe that is straining to contain it. The absolute paradox is both beautiful and terrifying, the embodiment of everything yet defying comprehension.