In the furthest reaches of unreality—beyond the Far Shore, beyond the Sea of Possibility, deeper even than the Abyss that birthed the Outer Void—there existed a place without time, without form, without dimension.
It was called Mystery.
Here, time did not flow. Space did not stretch. Matter and energy were laughable illusions, and even the mightiest of True Beings could lose themselves to the conceptual silence. This realm was where even imagination knelt, where Origin—also known as Alex, the being forged from infinite potential—made his sanctuary within a dimension called simply:
The Origin Plane.
It was here, within a realm untouched by stories or fate, that Origin sat in contemplation. He was neither alone nor accompanied. In Mystery, the laws of perception broke down. But his will persisted, focused, turbulent.
For too long, he had watched from afar. For too long, he had restrained himself, mediating the architecture of Marvel's cosmos, anchoring the Second and Third Cosmoses in place, resolving instabilities caused by multiversal rifts. He had watched civilization in some Cosmos rise, and fall, and divine entities clash—all while burdened by a singular truth:
Even gods had limits.
Today, Origin had made a decision—one that would shake the very fundamentals of cosmic balance.
He would leave.
Not permanently, not forever.
But he would train.
And the place he had chosen to hone his power and knowledge… was none other than the Tensura Cosmology—the world of monsters, daemons, and awakened Demon Lords. The world of Veldora and Veldanava. Of Rimuru Tempest and Guy Crimson. A realm overflowing with high-level Law and Rule Manipulation, where ancient power was not just wielded—it was earned.
But before he could go… he needed to talk to the Old Man.
Origin reached out across conceptual barriers using telepathy—the kind of transmission that existed outside frequency or thought. His message found its mark: OAA—the One Above All. The oldest. The silent author. The cosmic grandfather.
Ironically, the Old Man was… busy.
Not with creating universes. Not with battling corruption. But with what Origin could only describe as a celestial coffee chat.
Across the higher layers of Marvel cosmology outside it, between the gaps of Marvel and Dc cosmology space that held no form, OAA sat comfortably beside another figure—his old companion, The Presence, the God of the DC Cosmology.
They had long since delegated the tasks of maintaining balance to their lesser fragments and subordinates. The Presence, usually serene, laughed softly as OAA relayed stories of Earth-616's newest idiocy—something involving Deadpool, Galactus, and a very confused Living Tribunal.
So, when Origin's voice cut through the silence—sharp, insistent—OAA blinked.
"Old Man. Come back. We need to talk. Now."
The Old Man groaned.
"Well," Presence chuckled, "looks like playtime's over."
"Yeah, yeah. He never lets me relax…"
When OAA arrived at the Origin Plane, his form condensed into the image of a bearded, serene old man in simple white robes. He saw Origin waiting for him—arms crossed, eyes narrowed, expression furious.
"Alright, kid," OAA said, trying to diffuse the tension with a grin, "what's the big deal?"
Origin's answer?
He exploded.
"You lazy ancient fossil! I swear to the Outer Layers, if I had hair, I'd have ripped it out by now! You've been lounging around while I'm doing all the heavy lifting, managing cosmic diplomacy, stopping incursions—and then—THEN—I find out you left behind a counterpart!"
OAA raised an eyebrow. "Ah… you mean—"
"Yes! The One Below All! You left a walking apocalypse beneath the Multiverse with no clear instructions, no fail-safe, nothing! Every comic, every anime has this lazy Creator who seals their evil counterpart and leaves future generations to deal with them. Why is it always the next guy's job?!"
OAA's face scrunched with guilt. He scratched his beard. "…Okay, fair. That one's on me."
"Damn right it is," Origin muttered, pacing.
"And to make it worse," he continued, his anger shifting into frustrated despair, "you and your counterpart… you cancel each other. Nothing in Marvel's existence can hurt either of you! So how exactly am I supposed to stop him?!"
OAA looked thoughtful, for once truly silent. Origin stared hard.
"So," OAA asked finally, "what have you decided?"
Origin took a deep breath. His anger cooled, focused into willpower.
"I've decided to learn. To grow. To train in ways this reality can't offer me anymore. I want to master battle experience, high-level magic, and True Rule Manipulation. That's why I'm going to Tensura."
OAA's eyes widened slightly.
"…You're going to meet Veldanava, then?"
"You know him?"
"Heh," OAA chuckled, a nostalgic warmth entering his tone. "Of course I do. He's part of the old Creator Slacker's Club."
"…Excuse me?"
OAA shrugged. "There's me. That Presence guy. And Veldanava. We're the retired Gods. Don't get me wrong—Veldanava knew everything that would ever happen in his world. He had full Omniscience, Omnipotence, and Omnipresence—just like us. But even he decided to die and let his subordinates carry on."
Origin's mind spun. The realization that Veldanava had chosen his fate—chose to die—out of design, not accident, made everything clearer. An avatar of the True God choosing reincarnation… to pass on wisdom? That held weight.
"Then he must have foreseen everything about Rimuru, Guy Crimson, Feldway…"
"Exactly," OAA said. "So if you're going… let me give you a pass. But be warned—traveling to Tensura isn't easy."
OAA raised a hand and the space between them cracked open.
A portal shimmered into being—vast, ringed with fractal geometries that pulsed with unknowable equations.
"This gate will take you out of Marvel's jurisdiction. But between cosmologies lie the Voids Between—pockets of oblivion that can consume even conceptual beings. You'll need to fly through the gap, reach the Barrier of Tensura, and then…"
"Break it?" Origin asked.
OAA nodded. "Yes. Use all your power, condense it into a Pure Energy Blast, and strike the barrier. Only then can you cross."
Origin cracked his knuckles. "Good. That's what I wanted. I need to be tested."
OAA raised an eyebrow. "So you're hoping to fight Guy Crimson?"
"I've heard stories. That even after Veldanava died, Guy was the strongest in one-on-one combat. That only Feldway's True Body could surpass him. And then there's Diablo—who, with a deadly power-up, fought True Body Feldway and pushed him back. That feat alone had people thinking he'd surpassed Guy. But… "
He smiled.
"I disagree. Guy still had several Ultimate Skills in reserve, and his battle IQ is monstrous .Diablo or before he was named Noir never was a power type fighter he was also a Primordial Daemon Noir he was also a weirdo among the daemon who pursued interesting things rather than strength also he had a weird ability to instantly resurrect himself back if he died yes Primordial Daemon have the ability to come back if they dies but it would take time on the other hand Diablo had the ability to instantly come back this was the reason that many people would rather not meet him or fight after all after he is killed he would be like a mad dog that would continue to trouble you so that's the reason many people think that Diablo is stronger than Guy .Guy on the other hand he's the Primordial Daemon Rouge who took on nations for fun and was acknowledge by The Creator God and was give the role of mediator by him. I want to face that."
OAA stared at him with a mixture of amusement and respect.
"Well then, go. But remember—time flows differently across cosmologies. You may spend a million years there, and it might only be a thousand here."
Origin smirked.
"Then I'll make every second count."
With that, he stepped forward.
The portal roared as Origin walked into it. Power radiated from his back as he vanished into the corridor of blinding white energy.
OAA stood silently, watching.
"…Kids these days," he muttered with a smile. "They grow up so fast."
INTERLUDE: The Flight Between Worlds
Origin found himself hurtling through endless darkness—the Gap Between Cosmologies. There were no stars here, no dimensions, no anchors of space or time. Only the howling Void Wind, trying to rip apart even his powerful form.
It was alive—an endless entropy that devoured unprepared travelers.
Origin concentrated. Reality around him flickered. He condensed himself into a beam of concept, a thought sharpened into speed, and raced through the dark. Through memories. Through pain. Through power.
In the distance… the Barrier of Tensura.
Vast. Shining with Primal Colors. It looked like a crystalized net of Laws, woven by Veldanava himself.
Origin inhaled, gathering power. A core of pure will formed at his chest. Concepts coiled around his fists. Marvel's physics cracked around his knuckles as he clenched them.
And then—he struck.
BOOOOOOOM!!!
A blinding explosion echoed across the layers of Void. The Barrier shuddered. Threads unraveled. And then—space split.
Origin was through.
He entered Tensura.