Writing Prologue

In the void before existence, there was only a whisper—a whisper that resonated with the essence of all things that were, are, and will be.

It did not belong to any god or creator but to something far more ancient and unknowable.

From the formless depths of the abyss, a presence had been sealed away—a being of unfathomable power, older than Nexus verse itself.

Its name had been forgotten by the ages, for even time, in its eternal flow, had no memory of this entity's origin. It was not a deity, nor was it an architect of creation. It was a force, primordial and absolute, lurking in the uncharted corners of reality.

For eons, the presence slumbered in silence, its power bound and forgotten. But all silence has a sound, and here, in the darkness between worlds, a heartbeat echoed. Not the heartbeat of man, nor beast, nor god, but something far more sinister.

A faint tremor passed through the Abyssalvoid.

A place older than time itself, the Abyssalvoid was not a world, not a realm—it was the absence of all things. Here, within this endless void, He stirred.

He was no mere creator. He was a force, a sculptor of dimensions, whose hands shaped the fabric of existence, bending it into the Nexus Verse, a sprawling network of infinite realities. Yet, for all His power, there was something That was at same level as him—something He had locked away long ago, deep within the Abyssalvoid, beyond the reach of existence itself.

Now, that presence stirred.

It was something beyond comprehension—an entity of such unimaginable power that its very existence threatened to unravel the fabric of the multiverse. Known only as ????, it was the embodiment of chaos and order, light and darkness, bound together in a paradox that defied logic itself.

It had once stood at the heart of creation, its mere presence challenging the fundamental laws of reality. He had sealed it away eons ago.

And now, He was opening the seal.

A whisper of incantation, a spell older than the stars themselves, escaped His lips. The air crackled with energy, thick and oppressive, as the boundaries between realities trembled. The Abyssalvoid groaned, its very essence rejecting what was about to be unleashed.

From the Absolute Void, the presence of ???? seeped through.

Darkness swallowed the space. Light bent and flickered, struggling against an unseen force. The very concept of existence warped as ???? took form—if it could even be called that.

A shifting, fluid mass of shadow and radiance, constantly changing, unable to be contained in a single perception. Its eyes—if they could be called that—were deep, swirling voids, darker than the deepest abyss. And yet, within them flickered something… something both beautiful and terrible.

Then, for the first time in eternity, it spoke.

"I am sor…"

The voice was not a voice. It was a cacophony of whispers and screams, layered over one another, echoing from the depths of time itself. A symphony of sound that should not exist.

Then, silence.

A profound, crushing silence, as though all noise had been devoured.

The words caught in its throat. It hesitated.

The void-like eyes flickered. The shifting form stilled. And in that moment, something alien twisted through its being—something impossible.

Horror. Pain.

For the first time since before the birth of existence itself…

???? felt fear.