Chapter 1: Path of the Sun

The silver-white metal hall stood as a monument to a civilization that had transcended imagination. Its vast expanse, capable of housing tens of thousands, was alive with exaggerated lines and shimmering multicolored lights. Robots of every conceivable form darted through the space—some clanking mechanical constructs, others sleek humanoid figures, and a few mimicking the curves of forgotten beasts. Technology here had clawed its way to an apex beyond comprehension.

Yet, for all its grandeur, the hall felt hollow—devoid of breath, of soul.

Not a single human stirred among the sea of machines.

After an eternity of silence, a flicker of motion broke the stillness. A small, golden, winged toy zipped into view, trailed by a chubby boy draped in a silver robe. As he stumbled into the hall, the robots paused, their glowing eyes flashing with something akin to awe. Only when he waved them off did they resume their endless tasks.

"GoldieTron, slow down! Wait for me!" The boy's voice rang with affection for his spirited companion. His presence injected a fleeting warmth into the sterile vastness, softening its unyielding edges.

The hall gleamed with cold perfection—metal stretched in every direction, its composition a mystery even to the sharpest mind. A sprig of green might have dulled its sharpness, but none existed here.

"Master, catch me if you can! I'll sing you a song if you do!" Little Gold chirped, its wings fluttering as its head split into a wide, mischievous grin. It was endearing enough to tempt a playful swat.

But today, the boy didn't leap after it with his usual delight. He froze, eyes distant, lost in thought. GoldieTron tilted its head, puzzled. Though small, it was no ordinary trinket. Forged by the Mayan Empire's finest minds, it was a marvel of engineering, designed to serve the great Prince—an honor unmatched among machines. In this realm, Mayan technology towered over the stars, unrivaled and absolute.

The Mayan Empire was a colossus, its armies crushing countless systems beneath their heel. With space-time jump technology, distance was a myth—they struck wherever they pleased. No force, be it spiritual, mechanical, or alien, could stand against them. Yet, a millennium ago, their conquests stalled. The King had unearthed a secret on Earth, the cradle of their kind: the path to divinity.

Whispers now claimed that path had been walked to its end. At the peak of Mayan ingenuity, no dream was too vast—given time.

The Prince stared at GoldieTron, then lunged, snatching it from the air. The tiny robot squirmed, but his grip was iron, laced with a power no machine could defy.

He studied his beloved toy, a shadow of hesitation in his gaze, then strode toward a well-like structure at the hall's edge. Peering into its depths, he saw a mirror-like surface reflecting the hall's mundane splendor. Footsteps echoed behind him, sharp and urgent. Gritting his teeth, he hurled GoldieTron into the mirror before it could squeak a protest.

Ripple…

The surface didn't crack—it wavered like liquid. A faint zzzt swallowed Little Gold whole.

A crowned man stormed into view, his stern face ablaze with fury, a woman of unearthly beauty at his side. She was flawless, her perfection shifting to match any beholder's ideal.

"Kalter, do you grasp what you've done?!" The man's roar shook the hall, sending robots trembling—some sparked and burst under the pressure.

"Kalter, this is reckless. The Parallel Mirror links to lateral universes—realms alien to ours. If GoldieTron slips the laws' judgment, it could unravel another world's balance!" Her voice was soft but unyielding.

The Prince met their gaze with a faint smile, unshaken. "Father, Mother, you've taught me yourselves: even we cannot defy the laws of parallel worlds. GoldieTron's odds are slimmer than a quark's whisper."

The King's rage simmered, but the Queen's touch stilled him. "Your Majesty, today is a day of triumph. Spare our son your wrath. My dear, today we stand at the zenith of Mayan glory. Soon, we shall ascend as gods—the only ones in this cosmos!"

At the word godhood, the King's fury softened.

"We shall become light. The universe will be us, and we, the universe—whole and eternal!"

"Come, my child. Let us become light!"

They clasped the Prince's hands and led him forth. The hall's towering doors parted, revealing a blinding radiance that drowned the world. Before them loomed a colossal altar, its heart ablaze with milky flames. Below, a boundless legion of mechanical soldiers stretched to the horizon.

The light wasn't born of any sun but of countless mechs, each a conqueror of worlds. These were the fists of the Mayan Empire's dominion.

Earth itself was a graveyard of steel—no life, only machines. Every eye fixed on the altar, on their singular King.

Beyond the planet, the solar system bristled with titanic starships. Soldiers stood in reverent silence, their screens locked on the royal trio… all robots.

The fleet sprawled endlessly—a testament to power no foe could challenge. Entire systems crumbled beneath their wrath.

Today, every Mayan soldier and vassal would witness their King's apotheosis: a god forged in light, destined to illuminate the void forever.

Facing the altar, the King raised a hand. Weapons lifted in unison, a cry thundering across the stars: "Long live the King!" In this dimension, none rivaled the Mayan might.

Yet only three humans endured. Today, they would fulfill their ancestors' dream: to merge with the cosmos as gods.

The moment was sacred. White-robed robots chanted the empire's storied past, their voices a hymn to glory. All would bear witness.

The trio rose, defying gravity, toward the altar's maw where white flames surged, pulsing with destiny.

This was the Mayan pinnacle. Only by becoming one with the universe could they claim their fate.

Exchanging silent nods, they reached up, hands solemn on their heads, and peeled away their facades.

"In this moment of triumph, let us face the world as we are!" the King's head intoned, stripping hair and skin to reveal a transparent dome cradling a throbbing red brain.

The Queen and Prince followed, shedding their shells in reverence.

Their bodies lifted the brains tenderly, guiding them into the flames' heart.

Silence gripped the world.

Time and space held their breath. Then the flames collapsed inward, vanishing. A lance of white light pierced the sky, spreading until all was consumed.

Beyond time, beyond form, all became light. A cataclysmic blast erased the solar system, and the Mayan legacy faded into a wistful echo.

Long ago, a king named Nietzsche had crowned himself the sun…

The universe isn't bound by three dimensions, nor seven—it sprawls infinitely, splintering from a single root into parallel realms. On one Earth, dinosaurs fell, and humans clawed to supremacy. On another, scaled lords still reign.

Every choice births a new thread. Some Earths lie barren; others scale civilization's peak. Even near-identical worlds diverge—a different first emperor, a shifted genius.

These are parallel universes, walled by cosmic law. Even the Mayan Empire, at its height, couldn't shatter those bounds—any breach meant ruin. That truth had once sapped their hunger.

But as the Prince hinted, at technology's edge, those laws bend, if only by a hair's breadth. Success demanded a crippling toll—over 80% of function lost. To the Mayan mind, it was futility. What "becoming light" truly meant vanished with them, but like that ancient king chasing the sun, their ambition ignited a stellar grave. The fallout tore at the fabric between worlds.

A golden speck flickered at destruction's edge, then vanished. When it emerged, a blue planet hung before it…