Can be skipped.
Narrator-
Adamus Jovajra has crossed the final threshold.
Merging with the sacred Om Mani Padme Hum Crystal, he has shed his last mortal bindings. His green flames are gone, reborn as radiant golden fire, eternal and unchanging.
No purely physical attack can touch him. Only strikes infused with spirit may leave a mark. What remains is not merely warrior or god, but the living embodiment of sacred fury and balance:
The Angel of the Thunderbolt Dharma.
The Black Lotus no longer adorns him. He awakens to his original state, the Black Lotus. His garments reshape into living vestments of transcendence: black fabric streaked with gold and lined with infinite golden eyes. Behind him spread the Wings of the Black Lotus Sunyata, black void streaked with divine light. His wings hold an entire multiverse. Eight eyes shine on each wing, four forward and four behind, while countless hidden eyes remain unseen, each a sealed universe pulsing with dormant potential.
From these wings flow universes and dimensions, crafted by Vajrapani through Dimension Ascension and now woven into Adamus's being. At its most direct, Dimension Ascension Is always activated, manifests as the Dimension Ascension Ray, a prismatic beam that rewrites what it touches. It changes the dimensional structure of an object or person, altering their composition at the root. Those who cannot endure the shift are undone, body, memory, and meaning unraveling in a breath.
In many of his universes, he has warriors that he can summon onto the battlefield, manifesting through golden cards known as the Codex. These cards can be weapons or soldiers. He can also summon Trap Cards, as well as cards with special abilities and hacks. Each card carries the weight of a universe and enters the field as living truth at his command.
He also wields Dimension Merge. With a thought, he can merge one of the universes within his wings with the battlefield, changing the terrain and seizing control of the area. Fire, ice, lava, gravity, and even zero time become tools he shapes to his will. This merge can also take place within his body, as his hands or even his stomach fuse with his universes, allowing him to create a universal storm of ice, water, lava, and zero gravity.
He can seize an enemy's life strings and pull them into one of the universes within his wings a private universe where he alone is law. His wings also grant him higher-dimensional travel. And if balance demands it, he blooms the Black Lotus in full, not as a flower but as emptiness incarnate, a cosmic blade that cuts through meaning itself.
His defense is more terrifying still. Counter has reached its final state: Auto Counter. No longer a reflex, it is Dharma's decree. Any entity, physical, divine, or conceptual, that dares to strike first is met at once by a golden fist from the ether, turning their own technique against them. Auto Counter has a ten-second cooldown, but the cooldown belongs to Dharma, not time. Stopping time changes nothing. If a foe attacks first while it is recharging, the law bends and the counter resets instantly. This law is not just mechanical but narrative. The very story itself will not permit a first strike against him. The first blow can never land. It is impossible. It is written.
When the golden fire finally dims, when the wings fold and the Lotus closes, Adamus will feel the ache of infinity in his bones. Not as punishment, but as proof.
He bore the weight of Dharma.
The end of narration.
"The Angel of the Black Lotus Descends"
The sky burned violet above the broken earth. Cities crumbled in the far distance, thunder cracked in strange geometries, and the air bent with the tension of gods and monsters.
From above, he descended.
Adamus… no longer merely Adamus now transformed into The Angel of the Black Lotus, The Angel of the Thunderbolt of Compassion, Dharma itself. Black lotus wings stretched wide behind him, vast and veined with divine circuits. Light traced his skin like ancient scripture. His eyes shone with Hyperversus, and around his back, the golden aura of Tenshi no Me spun like halos of judgment.
He looked to his his party, his friends below in the chaos, fighting to save who they could. Clad in the black vestments of this final form, he smiled gently, voice soft amid the storm.
"I told my mom I'd get wings one day… I can't wait to see her again."
But across the ruins, something stirred.
The Pharaoh, a being now twisted beyond man or monster, rose from the crater left by Adamus's earlier strike. His form was colossal demonic, red-skinned, crowned in a feral ring of black and gold, muscles rippling like tectonic plates. He screamed, warping reality itself as he stepped forward.
Adamus hovered in the air, wings stretched wide in judgment.
"You better stay down… if you know what's good for you."
But the Pharaoh only roared louder. All around him, ancient bones shook. From his warped magic, an army began to rise skeleton soldiers armed with ethereal blades, floating like ghosts, ready for war.
Adamus glanced away. He saw Noah's Ark in the distance, his friends directing civilians saving as many as they could. His face hardened.
"I gotta hurry. Vajrapani warned me… I can't stay long in this form. But he gave me the knowledge…"
He clasped his divine hands together. The air cracked.
"I summon you... Fist of the Thunderbolt."
And then they came.
From folds in reality, golden fists materialized. Each one different in size and shape, surrounded by luminous, higher-dimensional patterns each bearing a golden eye in its center: the Tenshi no Me. Dozens. Then hundreds. Then thousands.
Can be skipped.
Narrator:
Fist of the Thunderbolt
It begins with a golden eye opening in reality.
Adamus stands radiant, weaving higher-dimensional shapes into living networks of Life Strings. From them, infinite golden fists emerge paradox made flesh, weightless yet bearing infinite mass.
Each knuckle shines with Tenshi no Me, granting sight, will, and autonomy. They appear anywhere subatomic or larger than galaxies scaled only by Adamus's spirit.
These fists do not kill. They resolve, heal, and restore: calming rage, rebuilding cities, purifying corruption, even undoing despair and entropy. Attempts to negate them fail they are imagination solidified by Life Strings and Dimension Ascension, beyond theft or absorption.
They carry Adamus's authority: perceiving life strings, unleashing compassion as power, and striking beyond causality. They are his will, heart, and soul made infinite.
When unleashed, the battlefield becomes a storm of golden mercy. You are not destroyed you are remade. They never stop until you surrender.
For a moment. For eternity.
End of narration.
The Pharaoh snarled, summoning more skeletons to his side.
"You think I'm afraid of your fists? You're not the only one who can summon an army!"
But Adamus didn't flinch.
"These fists… aren't for you."
He raised his glowing hands, strings of golden life energy branching from his body, connecting to the fists.
"They're for my friends. And this world."
Each fist turned as if in reverence, and then launched across the planet, grabbing civilians, lifting debris, evacuating cities. A divine evacuation force the Fists of Compassion. Adamus watched them go, pride in his chest, before turning back to the Pharaoh.
He frowned. Overhead, the energy of the End Times thickened in the sky like a divine noose. There was no more time.
"Let's end this."
He rushed forward. The Pharaoh charged to meet him.
Clash.
Skeletons swarmed around Adamus.
He moved like lightning striking one down with a golden fist. The creature shattered instantly, reduced to nothing but drifting dust.
Without hesitation, Adamus raised his hand.
A radiant beam of rainbow-colored light the Dimension Ascension Ray erupted from his palm, sweeping across the battlefield. Where it touched, skeletons unraveled, their forms disintegrating into particles, their very structure unable to endure the sudden shift in dimensionality.
But still they came. Endless. Relentless.
Adamus turned his gaze downward. With a flash of golden light, he fired the Ascension Ray into the earth itself. The solid ground warped, liquefying into a swirling pool of dimensional quicksand. Skeletons charged forward blindly and were instantly trapped, their bones sinking and snapping beneath the shifting surface.
Another wave approached.
With a calm breath, Adamus flicked his fingers, sending out another Dimension Ascension Ray. This time, the beam sliced through the skeletal horde and those it touched were reduced to one-dimensional strings, collapsing into glimmering threads of nothingness before vanishing altogether.
Suddenly
A whisper of movement.
Behind him.
A skeletal warrior burst from the shadows, blade raised, its jagged tip aimed straight for the back of Adamus's skull
"Automatic Counter activates."
A golden fist materialized instantly, mirroring the attacker's blade and smashing the skeleton to the ground.
More skeletons lunged blades swinging wildly.
"Automatic Counter activates. Automatic Counter activates. Automatic Counter activates."
Every time a skeleton tried to strike Adamus for the first time, the Automatic Counter flared deflecting their blows with divine precision. After each activation, a ten-second cooldown began. But as soon as any new attacker attempted their first hit, the cooldown shattered instantly, triggering another Automatic Counter.
Hundreds of Automatic Counters erupted simultaneously, as thousands of skeleton soldiers relentlessly are being summoned and attempted to land a single hit. Yet none succeeded.
Fists responded glowing golden judgments appearing from nowhere, swatting undead from the skies. Adamus spun, his wings slicing enemies in half, his hands blazing with celestial fire.
Two massive hand constructs flowed just beside his own hands, perfectly mirroring every movement. As he moved, the constructs moved in unison, striking down skeletons flying toward him from above.
Suddenly, two colossal golden fists erupted from the ground, crushing an entire swarm beneath their overwhelming weight.
But behind him
The Pharaoh, cloaked in fury, struck.
BOOM.
Adamus reeled, caught unaware. The Pharaoh's tail snapped forward, grabbing and crushing him, while skeletal blades raked at his face.
He screamed.
"Dimension Ascension…"
His golden eye flared as a golden card appeared in front of him. The card read: Shītānanta "Infinite Cold". Within it, a frozen universe churned one of icy silence and starlit frost. Adamus invoked it.
He screamed, "Summon!" as the card began to glow then exploded.
Reality shifted.
Narrator:
Adamus activated Dimension Ascension, its power crystallizing into a glowing card one among the sacred Codex that archives every universe, weapon, and warrior he commands. With a single motion, he fused one of his frozen universes into the heart of the battlefield.
End of narration.
Snow fell.
The battlefield froze over. Skeletons cracked in midair and shattered like brittle glass.
Adamus's body merged with the very cosmos becoming one with the Ice Universe. His breath exhaled winds so cold they froze not just flesh, but souls. The Pharaoh's tail crystallized into jagged ice.
With a cry, Adamus burst free, wings blazing wide. He lunged forward
Fist to jaw. Left. Right. Left.
The Pharaoh staggered, feet slipping across the frozen earth, until his body slammed into an icy pyramid. The monument splintered apart, exploding into a cascade of ice shards.
He stood, confused and livid.
"What did you do?! What is this?!"
Adamus's eyes glowed like suns inside the storm.
"I merged one of my universes with this one."
The Pharaoh laughed, a wild gleam in his eye.
"That's all you've got?" he taunted, blood on his lip, defiance in his voice.
His fists began to glow. A brilliant Black red demonic aura engulfed both hands… and then, they vanished. His arms remained solid and unmoved but the fists were simply gone, erased from view like divine illusions.
Suddenly, they reappeared. Not on his arms, but suspended in the air one on each side of Adamus, larger than before, shimmering with raw celestial energy. The Pharaoh lunged, both fists aimed to crush Adamus between them but before impact, golden constructs burst into existence. Massive divine hands, each the size of the Pharaoh hands, formed with a flash of radiant light. They caught the Pharaoh's incoming fists mid-air, locking them in a titanic stalemate.
The Pharaoh snarled as his horn pulsed violently. Red and black energy began to gather at its tip, a sinister core forming in its center. With a screech, it discharged an apocalyptic energy blast aimed directly at Adamus.
But before it could strike…
Automatic Counter activated.
An identical blast, golden and furious, erupted from Adamus without him lifting a finger. The two beams met with cataclysmic force, forming a blinding explosion that hurled both combatants backward like rag dolls through the air.
They crashed to the ground, rolled, then rose again in perfect sync. Battle was not over.
The Pharaoh rushed forward, delivering several devastating punches Adamus staggered, but endured. Then, with sharp precision, he slipped past the next blow and countered. His eyes flared.
"Dimension Ascension."
From the alternate layers of the universe he controlled, Adamus summoned magical frost blue-white ice spiraled from his wings and latched onto the Pharaoh's eyes, freezing them solid in mid-motion. Blinded, the Pharaoh roared in rage. Adamus launched a punch directly into his face.
But the Pharaoh retaliated, swatting Adamus like a ragdoll, slamming him back and forth through the air. Their clash continued a dance of titans shaking the atmosphere.
MEANWHILE — ABOARD MOSES' ARK
Far from the battlefield, the rest of the team was doing their part to save the world.
Kiyohime unleashed swarms of spectral snakes each one slithering through shadows, grabbing civilians from debris and bringing them to safety. Hunter stood atop surging waves, using his water to guide survivors toward the massive vessel. Moses flickered in and out of space teleporting between the Ark, the city, and the surrounding kingdom rescuing people in clusters and bringing them aboard.
Noah stood at the helm of the ship, grim-faced. His voice trembled.
"We can't do it… not in time. The end-times energy is getting too close. This planet's too big. We're barely managing to save people from this one kingdom."
Kiyohime, still summoning her snakes, suddenly looked up.
"Wait what's that in the sky?"
Noah turned. A golden fist-shaped aura shimmered in the heavens then a massive fist of divine light appeared, streaking across the atmosphere.
Hunter pointed toward another.
"There! More fists and look! Some of them… they're carrying people!"
Moses narrowed his eyes. "It's Adamus. That energy… those are his constructs."
Then, a brilliant golden fist flew down and hovered beside them. Its massive palm opened and gently released a group of civilians onto the Ark's deck. Then it lifted off and soared back into the sky.
More fists appeared across the horizon, ferrying people from every corner of the massive planet, each one carrying survivors toward the ship. The sky was ablaze with hope.
One of the fists floated near the crew again this time, speaking.
"Hey guys," Adamus's voice echoed from within the golden aura. "It's me. I summoned these fists to help us. Right now, they're grabbing people from across the planet. Once everyone's on board, they'll give you the signal."
Kiyohime shouted, "We're not leaving you! Not with that monster still fighting you—and with the End Times energy closing in!"
Adamus's voice was calm but firm.
"Just go. When the fists finish, leave. I'll catch up. I have to hold the Pharaoh back."
Moses gritted his teeth. "We don't leave family behind."
"You're not," Adamus replied. "You're preserving the future. Trust me. I'll be there. You will see me again."
The crew looked to one another and, reluctantly, nodded.
All around them, golden fists streaked across the Planet, carrying hope in their palms.
And above them, Adamus fought on the thunderbolt of compassion, the last shield between apocalypse and survival.
Back at the battlefield…
The clash raged on.
Adamus roared as he swung his glowing arms, and with each motion, massive golden constructs of fists appeared in midair, mimicking his movements. With every swing, a titanic fist launched, smashing into the Pharaoh and sending him crashing through the crumbling remains of the earth.
But suddenly, swarms of skeletal warriors summoned by the Pharaoh's dark will began climbing over Adamus, clawing and pulling, trying to overwhelm him. He fought through them, golden fire flaring around him, until
BOOM!
The Pharaoh's horn flared with ancient wrath, firing a blast of red and black energy. The explosion obliterated skeletons and hurled Adamus backward into a cliff face, leaving him battered and breathing hard. His golden flames flickered, still burning despite the pain.
Across from him, the Pharaoh stood tall, eyes gleaming. He looked toward the sky and growled.
"Where is everyone?"
Then he saw it Noah's Ark, glowing and rising slowly into the upper atmosphere, surrounded by streaks of white light.
"…Impossible," the Pharaoh whispered.
He watched in disbelief as Adamus's golden fists dozens of them streaked across the planet, scooping up survivors and delivering them to the Ark.
Snarling, the Pharaoh raised both arms and called upon his boundless telekinesis, aiming to crush the Ark from afar.
But before he could unleash it
SNAP!
Golden life strings wrapped around his arms, yanking them downward.
"You're not doing any of that," Adamus said through clenched teeth.
With a furious roar, the Pharaoh tore off his own arm, freeing himself. Blood-like energy poured from the wound as he launched into the sky, flying faster than Immeasurable speed, his remaining hand stretching toward the Ark.
Adamus watched in horror. "He's too fast…"
Without hesitation, he grabbed the life strings of the Ark and vanished teleporting instantly in front of it.
BOOM!
Their clash shook the stratosphere. Adamus appeared just in time to grab the Pharaoh's hand, stopping it inches from the Ark.
Their auras clashed gold and crimson colliding like titans of myth.
"You won't stop me!" the Pharaoh bellowed, struggling against Adamus's grip.
Inside the Ark, Kiyohime and the others stood on the deck, watching in horror.
"We have to help him!" she cried.
But Moses grabbed her arm, eyes full of pain. "It's too late… we have to go."
Golden fists began to return, one by one, reporting that every last soul had been saved. Adamus turned his head, shouting toward the boat.
"Don't come out! Everyone's safe! Just GO!"
The Ark's flared fiercely as the planet behind it quaked. The End Times energy a swirling, unstoppable force of divine judgment began to consume the world with relentless hunger.
From a distance, the crew watched in grim silence as the red planet cracked and crumbled beneath the battle of Adamus and the Pharaoh, who hung suspended above the dying massive planet.
Inside the Pharaoh's massive palms, Adamus struggled against the crushing grip. Through the haze, he caught sight of his friends aboard the Ark, flying away, slowly fading into the space.
A thought crossed his mind: Yes, they're gone. I can't see them anymore.
Below, the planet was already 90% consumed by the End Times energy, its destruction inevitable.
CRACK!
The Pharaoh overpowered Adamus, crushing him in his hand and hurling his body into the space. He chased after him, pummeling him through the vacuum of space.
They landed on a nearby planet with catastrophic force. The ground split. The air ignited.
Adamus coughed, golden flames sparking around him as he tried to rise from the crater.
The Pharaoh descended like a meteor, hovering above him.
"That boat…" he hissed. "It's too fast. Where did they go?"
His voice grew to a scream, filled with desperation and rage.
"WHERE ARE MY SLAVES?! MY CITIZENS?! WHERE IS MOSES?!"
The Pharaoh's voice cracked the skies like thunder. His massive form loomed, golden horns glowing, each syllable shaking reality.
Adamus stood tall amid the chaos, blood on his lips, his golden eyes burning like divine suns.
"I don't know where they are," he said quietly, fist tightening. "But I know they're far from you."
He stepped forward.
"And that's all that matters."
The Pharaoh snarled, his form warping as skeletons burst forth from the sand around him, their armor rattling, shields raised.
"You speak of the end," Adamus said, his voice low, steady, unshaken by the chaos. "Of hyperverses unraveling, of creation collapsing into itself. And yet what obsesses you is power. Why cling to a throne carved from crumbling stars?"
His voice deepened, shaking with emotion.
"It's not too late. You can stop this. You can come with us me and my friends. We're trying to save everyone."
But the Pharaoh's voice rose above it, savage and stubborn.
"No! I am stronger than this 'God of Israel.' The end won't destroy me. I'm immortal! My destiny is to rule over all especially those Israelites!"
He roared. "I don't need your pity! I need them bowing!"
Skeletons kept spawning around him. Their eyes glowed crimson, energy weapons forming in their bony hands.
Adamus shouted over the storm, "Why?! Why do you hate them so much? What did they do to you?"
The Pharaoh's tone deepened, shadowed by old grief.
"Moses and his brother… they killed my father. And my brother. I remember that day with perfect clarity when their God, their father, sent plagues that tore my brother from this world. And later… I watched Aaron drive a blade into my father's heart. I saw it. I felt it. And you dare ask why I seek vengeance? They deserve death."
He trembled with rage. "That boat… I'll find it. I'll kill both of them. It's in my blood my father did it. My grandfather did it. It's my destiny to rule."
Adamus's face softened, even as golden fire gathered at his fists.
"So that's it. Revenge."
He held out his hand.
"Then why not end the cycle with you? Why not be the first to choose peace? Let me sit you and Moses down. We'll talk. Find a way forward. You don't have to be your ancestors. You can change."
But the Pharaoh only laughed. A deep, monstrous laugh.
"I am not the change. I am the LAW!"
And with that, he charged.
The ground shattered as his army surged forward. Hundreds of thousands of skeletal soldiers, armored and howling, charged with swords and blasters. The planet quaked.
And with that, he charged.
The ground shattered as his army surged forward—thousands of skeletal soldiers, armored and howling, wielding swords and blasters. The planet quaked beneath their march.
Adamus clenched his fists, golden flames igniting around his body.
"I didn't want this," he whispered. "But I figured you'd leave me no choice."
So, you think you're the only one that can summon.
He raised his hand.
Dimension Ascension.
Golden cards shimmered into view before him. He glanced at it, then frowned.
"…I can't summon anything better than this?"
From deep within, Vajrapāṇi's voice echoed a voice of ancient conscience.
"Not yet. Until you learn to understand the warriors that live within your universes... or gain more power… for now, this is the only ones you can call."
Adamus stared at the cards.
It showed a creature. Fluffy. Round. Massive, glistening eyes. The title read:
Fluff, Fluff
Rank: D
Attack Power: 200
He sighed. "I guess it's better than nothing."
He touched the card. "Summon."
Light burst from the card, and the tiny creature appeared furry, glowing, adorably fierce in its own way. Its soft pink and white fur shimmered with an inner light, floating gently above the surface as if carried by a gentle breeze. Despite its small size, there was a quiet strength in its sparkling eyes, a fearless spirit wrapped in clouds of fluff.
Adamus blinked. "You don't look like a fighter… but your card says you are."
He glanced at Fluff, Fluff again. "D rank. Two hundred attack power."
He smirked. "Alright. You're the best I've got."
He stepped forward, fists raised.
"You ready to fight?"
Fluff, Fluff nodded.
They both dropped into their battle stances man and fluff, side by side.
Golden constructs burst into being massive fists slamming into the skeletal tide. Adamus weaved through them, punching, grabbing, slamming them into the ground. Behind him, blasts of energy fired his automatic counter activated, golden pulses returning the beams back to their sources.
Adamus charged forward, golden constructs erupting from his fists, smashing and slamming into the skeletal horde. His massive fists tore through bones, weaving between the onslaught as energy blasts fired past him each met by his automatic counter, sending shimmering pulses snapping back to their sources. Beside him, Fluff, Fluff bounced like a vibrant, glowing ball, springing high above the skeletons and crashing down through their ranks. Beams of gold light shot from her eyes, laser-sharp and relentless, slicing through bone and sinew.
Together, they tore into the army Adamus with his crushing strikes, Fluff, Fluff with her relentless bounces and burning gaze. But the tide was overwhelming. Skeletons swarmed Fluff, piling on her small frame, stabbing her repeatedly. The fierce little creature let out a final glow before vanishing in a flash of light.
"No! Not Fluff, Fluff!" Adamus screamed, compassion bursting through him. His voice shook the battlefield. "Alright… now you've got me mad!"
Golden fire surged as Adamus activated Dimension Ascension. A couple. of golden cards materialized before him four in total. Three were Trap Cards, each marked with an image of golden chains wrapping tightly around a shadowed silhouette.
All around him, an army of skeleton warriors closed in. Clutching the cards, Adamus broke into a run as the horde gave chase. "Let me try these Trap Cards…" he muttered under his breath.
He hurled them to the ground. The cards vanished from sight, invisible to all. The skeletons rushed forward, only to be snared the moment they touched the unseen traps. Golden chains exploded outward, binding their bones and dragging them screaming into the Codex. Dozens vanished in an instant.
Adamus skidded to a stop and turned just in time to see the cards reappear in his hand. Their faces had changed. Now each bore the image of skeletons chained and sealed within.
He smiled and read the inscription glowing across one of them:
Trap Card: Back Story
Level: S
When this card is thrown, it remains invisible to all eyes. The moment an enemy makes contact, it activates golden chains bursting forth, wrapping tightly around them.
The victim is dragged into the card itself, sealed within an empty universe. Here, time distorts, reality unravels, and their story collapses into fragments. They are left in limbo, trapped in a prison of narrative destruction.
Inside this void, their entire past can be dismantled and rewritten. The wielder assumes authorship of their fate, sculpting their back story into one of loyalty and obedience.
Effect: Traps the enemy inside an alternate empty universe. Their timeline, identity, and history are rewritten. They are reborn as loyal warriors under the command of the summoner.
Adamus's eyes narrowed. "So… they're mine now."
With a sharp motion, he raised the cards and summoned the captured army. The skeletons reappeared, but their histories were rewritten. In their minds, they had always been his soldiers his loyal warriors, bound to him by fate itself.
They surged forward at his side, fighting against the endless tide. Shoulder to shoulder, Adamus and his newly-forged allies cut through the horde.
But as the enemy numbers pressed in, Adamus growled, "This isn't enough. I need more."
His gaze shifted to the final card. It floated before him, radiant and heavy, its surface etched with a single shimmering title:
Gravity Layer.
He grabbed it.
"Summon."
The card began to glow, pulsing with divine light.
One of his infinite golden eyes flickered each a window into a separate universe. From within the chosen one, a world of impossible gravity stirred, its layered pull warping mountains and moons alike.
He summoned its essence, merging that realm's force with this one.
Gravity inverted.
The planet lost its pull. Across the land, bones and debris floated into the airless sky. Skeletons hovered, suspended, gravity-bound to his will.
But just as Adamus focused, bending the borrowed gravity to his command
Boom!
He was struck down.
The Pharaoh collided with Adamus like a meteor, hurling him across the planet's crust.
As Adamus rolled, a beam fired from between the Pharaoh's golden horns, blasting into Adamus's chest. The impact exploded the entire planet.
Adamus flew backward, catching himself mid-space, gasping but alive.
He opened his eyes. Planet fragments spun in slow orbit around him.
The Pharaoh was still there growing his form now eclipsing moons. Behind him, the shattered skeletons began to reform, their bones glowing with eerie vitality as they snapped back into shape.
Then they charged.
Energy blasts lit space, slicing through reality itself. Swords carved rifts in space. Bone-forged arrows screamed toward Adamus like meteors.
He dodged, twisted, struck.
Golden fists collided with bone. Life Strings lashed through the chaos. His constructs countered punching on instinct, reflecting attacks back with mirrored precision.
Blasts clashed. Reversals exploded.
And all the while they were flying. Hurling through galaxies. Spiraling across space and stars as war painted the space in fire and light.
Then a blade larger than a galaxy appeared in the Pharaoh's hand.
"MULTI-UNIVERSAL SLASH!!" he bellowed.
He swung.
Space buckled. Entire Universal systems shattered like glass. The blade cleaved through existence itself through Adamus, through his skeleton soldiers, through the stars.
Adamus was hurled like a comet, ribs cracked, flesh torn, blood streaking behind him in the void.
Narrator: This was no ordinary slash. It carried the Power of Infinity each swing syncing with the very fabric of the Hyperverse. Where it passed, it carved wormholes, cutting through universe after universe. A single motion. An endless slash. A blade that would never stop.
He crashed onto a new planet. barely alive. He knelt in a crater, clutching his side, blood leaking from his wound.
Above, the Pharaoh's eyes burned each one towering larger than the very planet Adamus stood upon.
They lit up once more, flooding the skies with ancient, red and black fire.
Adamus looked up at the colossal gaze bearing down on him.
"…Here it comes," he muttered.
KRAKOOOM.
A beam fired.
Adamus's Black Lotus wings flared outward, encasing him just as the planet exploded. The shield held. He floated amidst the void, surrounded by stars, skeletons, and death.
And still the Pharaoh laughed.
Adamus's eyes narrowed.
Then he screamed.
Dimension Ascension!
From Adamus's chest burst shapes that defied comprehension burning rings, tessellated cubes, and flickering forms no geometry could define, all etched in searing white and thunderous gold. Space groaned. The space time beneath him peeled apart. Skeletons charged and disintegrated instantly, their forms unable to bear the crushing weight of eighth-dimensional pressure. They didn't even scream. They simply ceased.
But the Pharaoh stood tall, unmoved, his silhouette etched into the very concept of reality.
Adamus narrowed his eyes, watching as the golden titan withstood the chaos.
"…He's not folding," he muttered. "The skeletons collapsed, but he remains. He can survive higher-dimensional pressure. Impressive."
The light dimmed. Shapes recoiled. Adamus lowered his output, drawing the storm of collapsing dimensions back into himself like an inhale of existence.
"No need to waste more," he said quietly. "Not yet."
Then, he lifted his hand.
The Black Lotus pulsed its petals unfurling from his back like the wings of some long-forgotten god. They curled inward, forming a spiral, and from its core something began to emerge.
Not forged. Not summoned. Born.
A weapon.
It formed not in pieces, but all at once an ancient concept wrapped in newborn fire. The handle was black, made of complete emptiness the Black Lotus itself. It was not hollow, but a void dense with unseen power, holding secrets no omniverse had earned the right to know. At its core was embedded a single golden eye Tenshi no Me, the Golden Eye pure omnipresence, watching beyond all space and time.
The eye watched the Pharaoh, and beyond him. It traced Life Strings across timelines, and divergent truths seeing not what was, but what had been and what might never be.
Then came the blade.
It did not emerge like steel it unfurled like a scream of destiny. Towering like Guts' Dragonslayer. It shimmered with layers of impossible light color that existed beyond emotion and frequency. Within its edge swam fractals folding into tesseracts, paradox loops spinning without motion, spirals carved from forgotten dreams. The weapon bled conceptual flame fire that burned not flesh, but meaning.
Reality bent inward. Even time hesitated.
Adamus gripped it with purpose. His eyes shone golden and fierce mirroring the all-seeing eye on the hilt.
Can't be skipped.
Narrator:
Black Lotus the Sword of Ignorance.
It is not forged. It is extracted torn from the soul of Adamus Jovajra, born through Dimension Ascension and tempered by compassion, sharpened into judgment. It transcends weapons and reality itself truth made manifest in blade form.
Its hilt is carved from the mythical Black Lotus, born in the void where knowledge ends and action begins. At its center sits a single golden eye Tenshi no Me sentient, omnipresent, and all-seeing, eternally linked to the Life Strings of all existence.
The blade is massive alive with paradox fire and higher-dimensional energy. Tesseracts shift within it. Fractals unravel and resolve. It does not reflect light it creates conceptual light, burning meaning itself.
Its default weight is infinite anchored to every reality at once. Only Adamus can lift it fully, though he may adjust its burden, allowing allies to wield it… or to crush enemies under it.
The sword connects to Life Strings not just of bodies, but of powers, emotions, and memories. With one focused swing, it can:
Sever someone's ability to use their gifts- powers ,abilities, hacks.Cut the emotion out of their soul.Erase memories like threads undone.
Within its aura, all healing ceases. Divine or biological, it is halted. Wounds remain. Pain becomes history.
Once charged, the blade becomes omnipresent in a set radius. Every swing has already landed. Blocking fails. Dodging is meaningless.
At peak form, it severs concepts themselves immortality, time, love, death. Ideas collapse like paper in fire.
And if any hand but Adamus's dares touch the hilt uninvited the blade vanishes and reappears inside them, bypassing every defense. Always fatal. Always precise.
Then comes the Ignorance Field a zone where perception dies, thought crumbles, and only Adamus moves with clarity. Enemies drown in divine uncertainty, unable to think, act, or even be.
Black Lotus is not a sword.
It is the end of illusion.
It is the mercy of destruction.
Wielded by the one who loves existence enough… to unmake it.
And of narration.
Above, the Pharaoh paused, looming like a second moon.
And for the first time
He felt it.
As Adamus forged the Black Lotus Blades of Ignorance an impossibility born of higher law and burning purpose his form transcended. He became the Angel of the Thunderbolt, Compassion Dorma. The creation echoed beyond comprehension; its energy surged so violently that entire hyperverses trembled. The shockwaves rippled through reality until even Avalokiteshvara's Heavenly Boundless Heaven stirred aware, and in awe, of the overwhelming force now awakened.
The Pharaoh ,Looming above, he expanded beyond planets, beyond reason, until his body dwarfed thousands of galaxies. His form now a living constellation of wrath, crowned by a colossal sword ablaze with apocalyptic light. Its glow tore streaks through the galaxies themselves.
And still he summoned more.
10 decillion of skeleton warriors spiraled around him, forming galaxies made of bone and echoing death. Nebulae of skulls and spears. Armadas of the dead drifting across space, all converging on a single point.
On Adamus surrounded, suspended in the star-scarred dark, Adamus hovered blade in hand, his silhouette golden and unbending beneath the weight of cosmic annihilation.
The Pharaoh stared down at him, a god looking upon a spark.
And yet, that spark did not flinch.
The Pharaoh laughed, voice booming like thunder across galaxies, echoing to other universes.
"Am I supposed to be afraid of that little sword? Look at you smaller than my eye. I'm bigger, stronger."
Adamus glanced at the weapon in his hand the Black Lotus Blade. At its center, the golden eye shimmered: Tenshi no Me, embedded deep within the steel.
The power in this eye… it's far stronger than mine, he thought. It radiates something ancient uncontainable.
He spoke aloud, his voice calm like a storm before it breaks.
"This blade was forged through Dimension Ascension.
What you're seeing now… is only its eighth-dimensional form."
He gripped the hilt tighter. Golden Life Strings pulsed around his body, drawing in essence his own, the hyperverse's, and all that exists beyond.
The sword began to shift.
From the eighth... to the ninth... then the tenth... and beyond.
Tesseracts screamed, paradoxes unraveled, and the blade became something unbound transcending dimensionality itself.
"The bigger they are," Adamus said with a faint smile,
"the harder they fall."
He charged.
With a single swing, his blade sliced through the skeleton legion. One stroke tore through space itself, sending a wave of golden energy that shattered trillions of skeletal forms into oblivion.
The Pharaoh retaliated his celestial sword moving like a god's arm. The swing annihilated planets, stars, Galaxies and even some of his own undead army, tearing through reality itself. Finally, it came down toward Adamus.
BOOM.
Adamus raised his blade.
The two swords collided.
The shockwave shook the hyperverse of Israel. Dimensions cracked. Concepts twisted. Time recoiled.
Adamus screamed not in pain, but in raw will as he lifted the Pharaoh's massive sword with one arm, and then…
Crack.
His blade of impossible form shattered the Pharaoh's celestial weapon. The golden wave of destruction ripped through the blade, exploding in a flash of cascading color and force.
The Pharaoh reeled back his titanic body crashing through solar systems, colliding with planets, each one bursting like glass on impact.
Adamus's golden eyes Tenshi no Me flared open.
The Black Lotus Sword's eye, Tenshi no Me, pulsed with power far stronger than his own.
Within a small radius, it became omnipresent, seeing everything across space, time, and dimension all at once.
All the life strings of the skeleton soldiers connected like marionette threads lit up before him.
Adamus's voice echoed with divine finality.
"I don't kill.
But you… you're already dead.
You're not people.
You're just echoes."
He swung once and reality obeyed.
Every single life string snapped.
The skeleton army vanished instantly. Not shattered. Not slain. Erased as though they had never existed.
The Pharaoh, now floating upright, looked around in horror.
"What… what did you do?!
Where are my soldiers?!"
"I destroyed their life strings," Adamus replied calmly.
"I cut them down with my Blade of Ignorance."
"I'll just summon more!" the Pharaoh roared.
He raised his colossal hand, glowing with summoning magic. Runes flared. The Space and time warped. But just then
Adamus activated Omnipresence.
The Black Lotus Blade its golden eye, Tenshi no Me began to glow brighter, turning a searing, holy gold. Though the Pharaoh stood galaxies away, his size so vast it made distance feel irrelevant.
Adamus made a single, effortless slice.
The blade struck everywhere at once across galaxies, across dimensions. The Pharaoh's scream tore through the stars as the slash echoed through his body in all locations simultaneously.
It wasn't just a blow it was a law, written into the fabric of the space he occupied.
The Pharaoh staggered, golden blood spilling from wounds he could neither see nor comprehend.
"Why… why won't my body heal?! What's going on?!"
Adamus's gaze didn't waver.
"The Sword of Ignorance severs more than flesh.
It cuts through meaning through memory through your right to recover."
The Pharaoh snarled.
"I don't need to heal."
With a guttural roar, his divine will surged.
Across the shattered fragments of his form scattered through space like broken statues of a god his infinite telekinesis ignited. Reality bent under the pressure as his torn limbs, his split torsos, and fractured skulls all began to reassemble, pulled together not by regeneration, but by force of will.
Piece by piece, he began stitching himself back together not by healing, but by binding his very essence through sheer psionic dominance.
But the cuts still glowed. The Sword of Ignorance had done more than wound his body.
He tried to summon more skeletons he reached into death itself but nothing came.
Only silence.
Only the hum of the golden higher dimensional color blade, still gleaming in Adamus's hand.
Adamus held out two fingers. One more string.
Snip.
"You can't," Adamus said.
"I severed the life string of your power to summon.
That ability is gone."
"Impossible…"
The Pharaoh's breath caught but he steadied himself, sneering.
"It doesn't matter. I still have infinite power.
I'll just keep growing, getting stronger!
I'm immortal!"
Adamus raised his blade one last time.
Snip.
"Not anymore."
The Pharaoh froze. Something ancient inside him shuddered.
"What… what did you just cut?"
"Your immortality."
Silence.
Adamus charged, his blade glowing like the first sunrise of creation.
With a divine thrust, he pierced the Pharaoh's massive form, the blade severing the bond between him and his staff the source of his cosmic channeling.
The Pharaoh shrieked as his form collapsed, shrinking, unraveling, until he was no longer a celestial god just a man again, floating in space beside his staff.
Desperate, the Pharaoh lunged for it.
But before his fingers could reach, Adamus caught the staff in one hand.
With no effort, no ceremony
He crushed it into dust.
The particles scattered like dying stars.
The Pharaoh stared at Adamus, eyes widenot in rage, but in fear.
The Pharaoh screamed.
His voice cracked as desperation overtook him, the sound sharp and trembling. "Please! Let me go please, I'm begging you!"
But Adamus did not flinch.
He stood in silence, eyes of molten gold locked on the trembling figure before him. The world itself seemed to fall still around him, caught in the gravity of his gaze. Through those divine lenses, Adamus could see beyond flesh, beyond time. He looked through the Pharaoh as if he were glass, peeling back the layers of his existence.
And what he saw was unspeakable.
He saw the shattered lives, the scorched histories, the agony bound like chains around the man's soul. He heard them every scream, every final breath, every prayer that went unanswered under the Pharaoh's heel. They rose like smoke, curling around Adamus's senses. Their pain did not fade; it had never faded.
A tear broke free from his eye.
Not from weakness, not from sorrow. But from understanding an infinite sorrow that comes not from the act of judgment, but from knowing it must be done.
"I gave you your chance," Adamus said quietly, the weight in his voice immeasurable. "You denied it. You spat it back in my face. And now, at the edge of defeat, you think mercy is yours to ask for?"
The Pharaoh dropped to his knees, hands trembling. "Yes," he gasped, "yes, please I was wrong. Aren't you a hero? Aren't you supposed to show mercy?"
Adamus looked at him, not with anger, but with resolve carved from centuries.
"I am not your judge," he replied. "But I will let the universe speak. I will let Karma decide your fate."
Behind him, his wings unfurled.
The Black Lotus Wings vast and terrible stretched open, black petals edged with radiant threads of gold, each feather a scripture, each line a cosmic truth. One of the golden eyes embedded in the wings began to glow, its light pulsing like a distant, dying sun. The air bent around it.
"Dimension Ascension," Adamus whispered.
And then they were gone.
In their place remained only a single, flickering life string, dancing weightlessly in the space.
They reappeared inside another universe somewhere far beyond stars and heavens. A realm hidden deep within Adamus's own divinity.
This was not simply another plane. This was The Universe of Kārmā one of the sealed realities harbored within his Black Lotus Wings. It existed beyond mortal reckoning, beyond time and space, sealed long ago by the first bearer of the wings, Vajrapāṇi, who had once grasped the root of Karma itself and forged it into a dimension.
Before them loomed a golden wall.
It stretched infinitely in all directions no floor, no ceiling, no sky, no ground. Just a radiant, polished wall, reflective and silent. Within its surface were frozen faces countless men and women, golden like statues, arms reaching outward, mouths locked in eternal screams. A trillions lives captured at the peak of their anguish, suspended in sacred stillness.
The Pharaoh stumbled backward at the sight, his voice dry and broken. "What is this? Where have you taken me?"
Adamus's voice echoed through this universe, deep and unwavering.
"This is the world of Karma," he said. "A universe sealed within me. One that even gods dare not trespass. This wall before you is Karma-Darpaṇa the Mirror of Karma. It judges not through bias, not through wrath, but through truth alone. Here, your victims shall rise through you. You will live their pain. You will carry their chains. And when you have lived enough, perhaps then your soul will begin to understand."
With no more to say, Adamus lifted the Pharaoh by his collar and cast him forward.
The Pharaoh collided with the wall, his body halting inches from its gleaming surface. He turned, eyes wild, but it was too late. The wall had seen him.
His reflection appeared.
And then, slowly, his flesh began to turn. Skin into gold. Limbs into stillness. His body sank forward, gravity bending around him like unseen hands. The wall began to pull him in not with force, but with inevitability. It knew him now.
"What is happening?!" he cried, thrashing, but his body was already beginning to fuse with the wall. "Please don't do this to me!"
But Adamus did not answer. His eyes dimmed as he turned away.
And then
Darkness.
When light returned, it came softly, like the eyes of a newborn blinking open for the very first time.
The Pharaoh no longer a god, no longer a tyrant gasped for air, his lungs filling with the raw panic of birth. He wailed, not with royal pride, but with the helpless terror of new life.
Above him, a woman leaned in, her smile warm and unshakably serene. She nuzzled his cheek with affection. Her features shimmered with otherness her skin bore the glow of starlit dusk, and from behind her swayed a long tail, striped like a tiger's, coiling around him with maternal instinct.
His tiny hand reached out, brushing against the same striped tail his tail.
He looked down at his new form.
He had been born not as a ruler of Egypt, but as one of the oppressed.
He had been born an Israelite.
And this was where it began:
Not in a palace, but in the red-dusted cradle of Pi-Ramesses, Goshen on the Red Planet.
Time passed.
He grew.
But he did not forget.
Even as a toddler he cried out, insisting, "I am the Pharaoh! Treat me as such!"
No one believed him.
They laughed. They ignored him. They called him strange and told him to be quiet. And each time he shouted, the whips came down harder. He was punished, not for lying but for remembering.
Years passed.
He Still a slave assigned to carry stone blocks, scrub blood from pyramids, obey the commands of priests. His back broke beneath labor. His spirit screamed.
One day, while delivering water through a dusty courtyard, he looked up and saw himself the Pharaoh paraded by on a golden chariot, the image of divine authority. His past self.
He fell to his knees. "That's me!" he cried out. "That's me! I am the Pharaoh!"
But the guards did not care.
A lash tore through his back. The pain was too much. His body collapsed. His life faded.
And then he was reborn again.
Over and over.
Each life, a new soul he once enslaved. Each birth, another lesson carved in pain. No mercy. No shortcut. Just the full mirror of every life he ruined, lived in slow, unyielding repetition.
Narrator:
This is the hidden justice of the Black Lotus Wings.
The divine mirror sealed within the Universe of Kārmā.
Karma-Darpaṇa, the Wall of Reflection, does not forget.
It does not forgive.
It reflects.
You are not judged by gods here.
You are judged by the balance behind all things.
And once the wall sees your truth
Not even death can set you free.
End of narration.
Adamus stood silently, watching the Pharaoh's body stiffen, then shimmer. His form slowly turned to gold, piece by piece, until he was fully fused into the Karma-Darpaṇa the Mirror of Karma.
The war was over.
Adamus looked down at his hands. The Black Lotus, pulsing faintly on his palm, began to vanish. His wings those vast obsidian extensions of power were crumbling into dust. Panic surged through him.
"No… I need to get back."
Without thinking, he reached toward the last golden string his tether. In an instant, he vanished.
He reappeared exactly where he had left, the golden string still faintly glowing. He flew from that point, heading for the nearest planet. But with every mile he traveled, his energy faded. The wings disintegrated into black feathers. His divine outfit unraveled into his usual clothes. His eyes dimmed gold returning to green. Finally, he plummeted from the sky and crashed into the red clay of the planet's surface.
Adamus stood up slowly. He was bruised, broken barely standing.
" Is finally over," he muttered. "My friends… at least they're safe."
He looked at the sky, lost in thought.
"How am I going to get back home now?"
He wandered, staggering across the barren planet, exhausted beyond words.
Then
He saw it.
The End Times Energy a cosmic tide devouring entire planets in its path was drawing near. He watched it slowly, hopelessly, as it destroyed stars and moons with ease.
Adamus dropped to the ground.
He laid on his back and stared at the sky.
"I guess this is how it ends," he whispered. "I don't have the strength to leave."
He closed his eyes.
"Sorry, Mom… I couldn't get home in time to save you."
Suddenly, a soft tap on his chest.
Adamus blinked, opened his eyes.
Standing above him was Moses.
Moses smiled gently and reached down. With a flash of light, they vanished together.
When they reappeared, they were aboard Noah's Ark, now sailing through the stars. Moses carried Adamus to a bench and gently laid him down.
The moment Adamus appeared, people rushed to him.
Noah stepped forward, awe in his eyes.
"We watched it all… your battle was incredible."
All around, people cheered Israelites, Goshenites from the Red Planet, and survivors from across the Hyperverse who had made it onto the Ark. Some were standing on top, some inside the vessel's infinite interior.
Through the roaring celebration, Hunter walked past, giving Adamus a smirk.
"Yeah… that was pretty incredible, kid. You've come a long way since the first time I met you."
Moses placed a hand on Adamus's shoulder.
"I always knew there was something special about you. Thank you. My people the Israelites are finally free."
Aaron stepped up beside him.
"He's right. We couldn't have done it without you."
Adamus shook his head.
"No. We did it. It was teamwork. I just landed the final shot.
And I couldn't have done it without seeing the strength in all of you the Israelites… and the Holy Spirit.
I believe in Him. He gave me the strength I needed when I had nothing left."
Suddenly, Kiyohime burst through the crowd and threw her arms around him.
"Are you insane!? Look at you you're a mess! You should've let us help! You didn't have to fight alone!"
Adamus smiled.
"I couldn't take the chance. If any of you got hurt… I wouldn't be able to live with myself. Especially not you, Kiyohime."
He looked at everyone.
"We all came here together… and we're leaving together."
Suddenly a shout from the top deck.
Two figures were fighting an Israelite and a Pharaoh's foot soldier.
"You don't deserve to be on this boat!" the Israelite shouted. "You should've died with your king!"
The soldier, panicked, raised his hands.
"I was just following orders! I was scared just like everyone else! I'm sorry!"
More shouting. More soldiers. More Israelites. A brawl broke out. Some fell from the Ark into space. Tensions boiled.
Moses rushed forward.
"STOP!"
His voice cracked like thunder, silencing the chaos.
He raised his arms high, eyes blazing with divine urgency.
"Has the Father not taught us to forgive?" he bellowed, his voice echoing through the celestial void.
He turned to face the Israelites, his people, worn and weathered from centuries of pain.
"Is this the world we want to build next? One where we pass on the hatred that chained us? One where vengeance becomes our new Pharaoh?"
A voice shouted from the crowd hoarse, bitter:
"They're all evil! Every last Goshenite! For how long they enslaved us, they don't deserve to see the center of the Hyperverse! They don't deserve the world of milk and honey!"
A hush fell.
From the mass of bodies, a figure stepped forward graceful, solemn.
A Goshenite woman.
At her side, two small children clung to her robes.
She walked forward with dignity, though the weight of generations bore down on her shoulders.
Her voice was quiet, but it pierced every heart.
"Am I evil?"
The Israelites froze.
Whispers rippled through them.
"Isn't that... the Queen?"
"The ex-slave... who became Queen of the Goshenites?"
"She used to visit us in the night…"
"She brought bread. Bandaged for wounds. Spoke peace to our children."
"She made the guards go easy on us when she could."
The woman stepped closer, eyes heavy with sorrow and love.
"I did what I could… behind palace walls, I did everything I could. I was one of you before I was crowned. I am still one of you."
Her children looked up at the crowd, eyes wide with innocence unaware of the sins that were not theirs to carry.
The crowd stirred, many dropping their gazes in shame.
Moses turned to all of them once more.
"Our Lord has made a new path for us a path not built with chains or vengeance, but with grace. Like Adamus said: We must turn the other cheek. The Hyperverse ahead is not for tyrants… nor for the bitter. It is for the forgiven. For those who choose to love."
Adamus, still seated on the bench, bruised and barely holding himself together, stood despite everyone pleading with him to rest.
He looked at the people Goshenite and Israelite alike.
"Hatred is a curse we carry long after the chains are broken," he said. "But forgiveness… that's how we become truly free."
Silence. Then, one of the Israelites stepped forward. He reached out his hand not to strike, but to offer peace.
The Goshenite soldier hesitated… then clasped it.
The crowd exhaled.
Slowly, the fighting stopped.
One by one, they helped those who had fallen over the edge of the ark, pulling them back onto the deck.
Weeping. Laughing. Apologizing.
The main crew remained on the top deck beneath the stars as the Ark soared across the universe. The rest of the passengers disappeared inside the infinite halls of the vessel, resting, healing.
That night, beneath the starlit void, they slept side by side.
Survivors of a fallen cosmos.
Drifting through the silent ocean of the Hyperverse.
Toward something unknown.
Toward home.
The deck of the ark was still.
Not a breeze. Not a sound. Only the hum of the vessel moving through the fabric of space, its course unshaken.
They lay together Israelites and Goshenites, warriors and wanderers nestled in the vessel's lower decks, beneath a canopy of alloy and memory. Each one clinging to sleep like it might explain the impossible path they'd taken.
Above them, under the open silence of the stars, on the exposed top deck of the ark, the main crew slept.
Among them, motionless as stone, lay Adamus Jovajra.
He did not stir.
No light surrounded him.
No glow. No aura.
Only the gentle rise and fall of his breath.
But not all eyes were closed.
Perched near the highest point of the ark, like a watchful shadow, sat a girl Inanna.
She watched him.
She had been watching all night.
Her long blonde hair floated slightly in the artificial gravity, framing a face carved with quiet sorrow. Her brown eyes burned not with hatred, but something colder. Something resolved. Her expression was unreadable, yet her attention never left the sleeping figure below.
And then, she whispered:
"Lucifer… are you watching?"
There was no sound.
No voice the others could hear.
But within her mind, a presence stirredvast and formless, yet intimate as breath.
Across the bounds of Higher-dimensional existence, in a reality far beyond the veil of causality, Lucifer sat in his throne.
His dominion was not a roomit was a higher-dimensional lattice of living data, a hyper-crystalline plane transcending all dimensionality In this hyperverse, existing only within the Hyperverse of Israel. It stretched beyond causality itself, a recursive infinity layered with meaning, abstraction, and control over narrative law.
This was the Narrative Root of the Hyperverse of Israel.
Floating in all directions were monumental crystal nodes each one a compressed archive of existence. Inside them pulsed entire timelines, mythic structures, historical cycles, and infinite narrative threads. Every crystal spun slowly like a cosmic processor, each rotation updating the fate of a world, a soul, or a law and order.
They were not mere memories they were the source code of reality, encoded in divine logic and symbolic language, mutable only by beings capable of narrative-level manipulation.
Here, in this Architectural Plane of Story, Lucifer reigned as the Arch-Narrator his will interfacing directly with the backend framework of creation. He did not simply observe historyhe authored, edited, and erased it. This was not magic or science. It was Story-Level Dominion where law, identity, and possibility were subroutines in a living hyper-algorithm.
And at the heart of this crystalline expanse, the chessboards began to move.
An infinite grid of chessboards extended outward in every direction each board an abstract construct, condensed from higher-dimensional law and infused with dimensional logic matrices.
Every board was a universe. Every move, a shift in cosmic fate.
Pieces were not mere kings and pawns they were deities, concepts, civilizations, reduced to strategy.
On one side of each board sat a version of Lucifer identical across the multiplicity, each one bearing curly crimson hair, eyes like frozen stars icy blue and impossibly deep and a magnificent pair of red wings folded behind him like living sigils of defiance. The wings shimmered with embers of fallen light, flickering holding the ashes of entire stories once erased.
Across from him, in perfect opposition, sat the Holy Spirit a being of pure white radiance, serene yet infinite in complexity. Its form was not fixed, but recursive an ever-shifting geometry of light, impossible to define, radiating pure counter-narrative energy. Where Lucifer burned with authored fire, the Spirit shimmered with unwritten peace.
Together, they played across infinite boards cosmic storytellers locked in eternal recursion, shaping the architecture of fate itself.
Move by move, board by board, they played.
With every passing second, another universe fell, another version of Lucifer or the Spirit vanished, overwritten, or ascended.
It was not a game.
It was narrative control at scale.
A living war of stories.
At the center of it all, in the Prime Axis Chair, sat the Main Lucifer the True Casefile, the Arch-Narrator, operating from the throne of cause-refinement.
His was not a reflection, but the origin point.
He watched it all omnisciently streaming each interaction, each cascade collapse, each failed rebellion and manipulated salvation.
He did not look at Inanna.
He didn't need to.
His thoughts folded into hers like an override command:
"Yes, Inanna. I am watching. I watch through all lenses. I observe through all forms of narrative and anti-narrative. I am the Synaptic Core of this Hyperverse."
"But that boy… Adamus Jovajra..."
Lucifer's gaze narrowed through countless lenses, across multi-tiered dimensions, across the metaphysical firewall of grace.
"He is a null anomaly. My Reality Editing cannot affect him. He exists in pre-written layers. My omnipresence sees him, but cannot hold him. He is... the unaligned thread.
I cannot allow him to reach the Center."
Her gaze didn't falter.
"Why do you think you can't erase him? Do you believe the Holy Spirityour eternal opponent on this infinite chessboard is shielding him?"
Lucifer's voice dropped, colder now, layered with a quiet frustration.
"No... It's not just the Holy Spirit. It's him. His energy. That crystal embedded in his body… those flames that coil around him like divine serpents. They're resisting me. Not just protecting him protecting the others, too. It's as if his entire existence has slipped off the board. His chest piece isn't even on my chessboards anymore. I can't manipulate what doesn't register in the game."
He paused, voice tightening.
"I would, if I could. But something shields him. An ancient force older than you know. One I haven't confronted since the Thrones fell."
Lucifer's eyes narrowed.
"But you… you are still within the walls. They took you in. They trusted you. Rescued you."
His next words were quiet and precise.
"When the time comes before they reach the Center of the Hyperverse… before he stands with the Holy Spirit… before the Battle of Angels truly ignites you will strike. Kill him. End it."
A tremor entered his voice uncharacteristic, but real.
"We cannot allow him to reach the Center. The holy war is already straining my containment. The Archangels… they're already at the Center, fighting to break through, trying to reach me. If he joins them…"
He looked away, as if seeing a war through time.
"We will lose."
There was a silence.
A flicker in her eye.
Then she nodded.
"Yes, my Lord. When the moment is right... I will kill him."
Narrator:
And above the sleeping Ark, beneath the cold judgment of ancient stars, the betrayer watched.
Once a girl rescued from a dying world named long ago:
Mesopotamia.
The beginning.
And perhaps now… the end.
Her name is Inanna.
Her kindness, a cloak. Her loyalty, a lie.
Working in the shadows for Lucifer, she walks among them… unseen, unfelt, unknown.
While Adamus Jovajra and his friends blaze across the vast corridors of the Hyperverse, saving civilizations, liberating imprisoned worlds, rekindling the lost
They do not see her.
They do not know.
They believe they are building a future.
But perhaps… they saved the one soul that will bring about their doom.
Still, they march on.
Still saving. Still searching. Still aiming for the Center of the Hyperverse where the Holy Spirit waits… where the final battle brews.
What allies lie ahead?
What enemies wear the faces of friends?
What planet will they set foot on next?
What name will be whispered in awe or terror?
Will they ever return… to their Hyperverse?
Or are they fated to wander forever in this divine maze
this shattered dream
this impossible realm now known only as…
The Hyperverse of Israel.
And the betrayer walks behind them.
Smiling.
Waiting.