Description structure of universe

For seven days, Arsh's missing body remained unfound—until the search team discovered it atop a mountain shrouded in eternal mist. His corpse was frozen in an unnatural position, as though reaching for something beyond the limits of human comprehension. He was buried without ceremony, accompanied only by silence in his final rest.

Yet death was not the end for Arsh. Somewhere amid unseen shadows, his soul awakened in an alien darkness.

"Ugh... Haven't I... already died?" he murmured, his voice echoing—not in air, but within a formless awareness.

The memory of his fall was still etched vividly in his mind. But before he could make sense of it, light erupted from the void—not light that illuminates, but light that reveals. From it emerged a radiant entity, its voice transcending logic and the range of any known frequency.

"O bearer of the Sefer Mezuyaf," it spoke, calm yet unsettling, "Do you still wish to know the contents of the book? If so, I shall reveal them to you."

"Who... are you? The Angel of Death?" Arsh asked, caught between fear and awe.

"My name is Malahki'el, Bringer of Light. To those who die while carrying the Sefer Mezuyaf, I am the Divider and the Guide."

Arsh hesitated. He wanted to refuse—but the hunger for knowledge man was never meant to possess stirred within his soul.

"Yes... I want to know," he answered.

With that reply, Malahki'el lifted Arsh's soul from its grave, carrying his awareness beyond the shadows and the boundaries of existence.

"Then listen closely," said Malahki'el. "I will unravel for you the structure of reality hidden from mankind."

"The lowest realm is the Realm of Fiction—or Meta-Fiction—also known as the Domain of the False Author."

"This realm, as described, is the embodiment of all fiction—every story that has ever been told, and every story that will ever be written."

"It includes all entities—those limited and those limitless, even the most absolute."

"Even those who claim to transcend fiction and metafiction are but characters—inscribed figures within the fictional notebook of the False Author."

"It is said that no matter how far one ascends—beyond the richest mathematical structures, the grandest set theories, all physical laws, and the most infinite conceptual understandings—they remain nothing more than a narrative, a fiction held within the pages of the False Author's logbook."

"The number of fictions themselves cannot be measured by ordinal numbers; their magnitude spans from ℵ₀ to ℵ₁, ℵ₂, ℵ₃… all the way to ℵ∞."

"And all of that… comes from a single full page of the False Author's book."

"According to the Sefer Mezuyaf, the total number of pages within the False Author's fictional notebook is ℵ∞—and it even surpasses that."

"The False Author's realm transcends the very structure of ℵ∞, exceeding the boundaries of any dimension defined by infinity itself."

"All fiction, meta-fiction, anti-fiction—even what lies beyond all constructs—is but an infinitesimal fragment of the False Author's notebook."

"They are merely weak narrative threads—so feeble, in fact, that they fail to even scratch the infinitesimal surface of the False Author."

"And beyond the realm of the False Author… lies something even lower than existence itself: the realm known as Below Existence."

"This realm is lower than reality—far beneath the known fabric of existence."

"It is beneath atoms, beneath quarks… beneath the quantum foam."

"Yet paradoxically, this realm is higher than the Domain of Fiction or Meta-Fiction—the domain of the False Author."

"This realm is the dwelling of an entity known only as The Null One."

"As written in Sefer Mezuyaf, this realm operates under the laws of Inaccessible Cardinals—a mathematical concept describing sets so vast that they lie beyond the reach of conventional logic. Untouchable. Unfathomable. Undiscoverable. A parody of presence itself."

"It is not mere nihilism—it is a form of rotting void. And within that decay dwells The Null One, a formless entity that devours the concept of being."

"In this realm, causality is unbound. Fate has no claim. Prediction loses meaning. The beings that dwell here are free from time, purpose, or limitation."

"This realm surpasses even the structure of unbounded dimensional space."

"It is not tethered to cause and effect; instead, it operates on a system of causality that is disordered, unknowable, and fundamentally incompatible with regular reality."

"And so, any entity that resides within this realm remains untouched by fate, causality, or even precognition."

"After traversing the two lowest realms, we now enter the realm where you reside."

"The realm where I live?" Arsh murmured.

"Do you mean… real life?"

"Yes. Real life."

"Reality—or what humans so quaintly call real life—is not a solid ground, nor a sky one can reach with mortal eyes. It is a fragile veneer floating atop the ocean of cosmic absurdity. Within it, sky and earth appear structured, whole—but they are illusions, constructs layered upon laws far older than causality itself."

"The so-called 'real world' abides by what philosophers have named the Laws of Thought—three brittle pillars that uphold all human consciousness:"

The Law of Identity: that a thing is what it is.

The Law of Non-Contradiction: that a thing cannot both be and not be.

The Law of the Excluded Middle: that every proposition must be either true or false.

"Quantum Foam—at its core—transcends all known systems. It exists outside the framework that governs even the Von Neumann universe. It surpasses lower states of being entirely."

"Its superiority cannot be expressed as the sum of elements from the states beneath it."

"Put simply, if one imagines a layered reality above the individual Von Neumann universes, where each universe operates under unified principles, then Quantum Foam as a totality transcends that framework completely."

"It obeys a different, higher hierarchy—one ruled by superior principles."

"Quantum Foam was once the apex of all possible worlds. In other words, it possessed its own autonomous reality."

"But it is hypothesized that this foam underwent a significant transformation—breaking free from its original state, becoming inaccessible from the level of being beneath the Von Neumann universe."

"This 'ascension' is ongoing. Its scope is boundless. It applies itself across all infinite series, in whatever form they may take—even as suns, stacked until meaning is erased."

"Then comes the Quark, which surpasses Quantum Foam in totality. Described as indivisible, immutable, ineffable, and non-dual."

"A verse in Sefer Mezuyaf proposes a hierarchical structure to reality, where each level transcends the constraints of the one below it. The Quark, for example, supersedes the Quantum Foam in essence."

"Yet both are said to contain all imaginable qualities—beyond classification into object or idea."

"This underlying reality is defined as non-dual, unchangeable, indivisible, and ultimately unspeakable."

"Each quark, by its very nature, transcends these concepts. And beyond the quark lies a spectrum of ever-escalating entities—from humankind itself to the highest of all: The Last One."

"Even the Quark is not the final tier. There is the Atom…"

"Yes, the Atom transcends both. Not through form, but because it holds within it an endless hierarchy—one that opens doors into worlds and structures forever beyond the reach of human comprehension."

'Real life,' Malahki'el whispered, in a voice devoid of echo, as if the world refused to acknowledge its own words, "is a structured illusion. A domain constructed of false light, brittle matter, and laws invented by finite minds to shield themselves from the terror of the void."

"You call it the 'real world.' A tapestry of solar systems, planets, oceans of stars, and tangible matter. But all that is seen is merely a thin page within a scroll that never ends."

"Beyond it lies what mankind calls the Multiverse—though even that term is a gross simplification of chaos."

"According to Sefer Mezuyaf, the Multiverse is a structure wherein every mathematically possible scenario must exist physically. Nothing is merely a number; every equation is the skeleton of a parallel reality."

"Every variable. Every fluctuation of physical law. Every alternate path… has, is, and will truly exist."

Arsh felt his mind fray. The words echoed like an endless vortex, drawing his reason into some ancient chasm.

"This is not merely about parallel worlds," Malahki'el continued. "This is about everything that can be imagined—and because of that, it also contains everything that cannot be imagined. Possibilities never dreamed by the human mind, and precisely for that reason, more real than reality itself."

"Therein lies what mortal thinkers have dubbed the Ultimate Ensemble—the forbidden theory of Max Tegmark… A final set, where every mathematical structure, no matter how absurd or paradoxical, is made manifest. Because in the true Multiverse, existence is nothing more than mathematics pulsating within the vacuum of nothingness."

"This is Platonism defiled. Not a world of ideas, but worlds that breathe… and may gaze back at those who contemplate them."

"This kind of Multiverse—Tegmark's Type IV—is madness made systemic. Within it, logic does not always apply. Contradictions may exist. Identity can be denied. Causality can be reversed."

"Every logical order conceived by a rational mind will, in time, spawn its own domain—even if that logic denies its own existence."

Arsh felt his nonphysical form being drawn—not by force, but by understanding. A comprehension too vast, too ancient, too venomous for mortal cognition.

"This is not speculation…" Malahki'el said grimly. "It is a roadmap to madness, Arsh. Every leap of logic is a world. Every nightmare is a place. And in one of the infinite branches… something watches back."

"And it waits."

Arsh stood at the edge of his own sanity. When he lifted his eyes to the sky—a sky no longer blue, but torn open like a festering wound revealing nameless corridors of dimension—he understood.

He knew.

That mankind—and all its legacy—was never the center of anything.

That every so-called greatness written in history was but a flicker within the indifferent symphony of cosmic will.

"We are the shadow of something that never knew shadow… We are the dream of that which does not dream…" whispered Arsh, within a heart unraveling.

And in that consciousness shattered by a faceless grandeur, he finally understood—

That humanity is not part of the world.

But the debris cast off from a dream the world itself should never have dreamed.

To be continued…