As Adamus Jovajra clashed with the Pharaoh Thutmose III, the heavens trembled
a class-shaking shockwave echoed through the entire hyperverse of Israel,
a realm stretched across luminous dimensions of scripture and soul.
In the heart of that celestial war, Adamus
bathed in emerald flame merged completely with the sacred Om Mani Padme Hum Crystal,
its original hue a radiant green, the color of ancient compassion.
But in union with Adamus's essence,
the crystal transfigured green to gold
its dharmic light consecrated by his fire.
And as the flame within him turned golden forever,
from his back erupted the Black Lotus Wings of Sunyata,
vast and void, petals etched with the silence of non-duality.
In that moment, he was no longer a man.
He became the Warrior on Fire
the Angel of the Thunderbolt of Compassion Dharma.
As this sacred transformation unfolded amid divine warfare,
in the highest of all heavens beyond transcendence, past the veil of conception
there existed a heaven whose name is seldom whispered,
for it exists beyond the beyond:
Avalokiteshvara's Heavenly Boundless Heaven.
There, on a shoreless cosmic sand beach untouched by time or death, sat Avalokiteshvara, the Eternal Bodhisattva of Mercy, in lotus stillness, his form immense, larger than galactic clusters,
his presence like a primordial hush before all things.
Beside him, another angel meditated Bodhiel, his breath synced with the silence of aeons.
Surrounding them both stretched the Ocean of Infinite Hyperverses,
a living sea, an endless tide of stories and worlds and eternities,
each hyperverse flowing like transcendent liquid time, each droplet a higher-dimensional cosmos, each wave a superposition of realities,
rolling and crashing in symphonic pulses of omniversal memory.
The ocean shimmered and breathed.
And suddenly one hyperverse began to glow.
Gold erupted from it piercing, divine, shooting through the sea like lightning made from prayer,
its radiance ripping through the fabric of existence, reverberating through other hyperverses,
changing their structure, their timelines, their very laws.
Bodhiel's eyes opened, filled with golden light.
He turned to Avalokiteshvara and gently tapped the woven rope at his side.
"World-Honored One…"
he spoke with awe,
"Do you see this? What is happening in that hyperverse?
If I am correct… that is the hyperverse of Israel."
Avalokiteshvara did not stir, still seated in divine stillness.
His voice was like the hum of eternity folded inward.
"Yes," he whispered,
"You are correct.
There is an epic battle unfolding within it."
Bodhiel leaned forward, eyes wide, the golden ripples of the hyperverse still flashing across his gaze.
"So powerful…
So strong is their energy, it is rupturing the ocean itself,
reaching hyperverse that should remain untouched."
Avalokiteshvara turned his head slightly,
his voice becoming like a soft bell ringing through nirvana.
"Have I not gifted you the golden gaze?
The Tenshi no Me Angel Eyes?
Use them. Pierce the boundless Ocean of Hyperverses.
Find the one. See clearly what unfolds in that battle beyond."
Bodhiel closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them anew
the Angel Eyes within him igniting,
their sight extending beyond.
He pierced through the boundless Ocean of Hyperverses,
each wave a realm, each current a stream of fate
crossing myth, memory, and karmic law.
Through a thousand-fold veils of story and spirit,
he reached it the Hyperverse of Israel and saw all that was taking place within it,
laid bare before his golden gaze
Adamus Jovajra, wreathed in golden fire, his fists clenched with dharma and destiny, facing Thutmose III, the Pharaoh of divine empire.
Bodhiel whispered, overwhelmed "What battle… What brilliance…
Who is he?
He bears the same light as we.
He holds the golden gaze…
He feels like… an angel."
Avalokiteshvara's did not turn, but his eyes soft as galaxies looked deep into time.
Avalokiteshvara "There is much you do not yet know, young one.
The one you saw flames upon his back, golden lightning in his fists
he is the Thunderbolt of Compassion. He fights for Dharma.
That is Adamus Jovajra, the Black Lotus given form.
In a past life, he was my brother Vajrapani,
the fierce guardian of Dharma."
Bodhiel "I thought you fought for Dharma."
Avalokiteshvara (echoing like wind through eternity)
"I am not him.
I am not balance.
I am creation
born of ruin."
As he spoke, a tremor shook the heavens. Far beyond, across the Boundless Ocean, several hyperverses exploded not with sound, but with waves of radiant collapse. The ocean rippled, shimmering with the death of trillions of realities.
Avalokiteshvara's raised his hand, open palm upward. The shattered essence of the fallen hyperverses gathered into his hand like liquid crystal, radiant and whimpering. He closed his fist... then opened it again, and flung the recreated realities back into the sea of existence like seeds returning to soil.
Avalokiteshvara's "I do not fight. I do not destroy. I am the hand that re-weaves the torn.
Those hyperverses were reaching their end. I rewound them into being restored them to the Omniversal ocean. This is the path I have taken… the path of my mother Prajnaparamita, boundless wisdom herself. I do not destroy. I only heal and create all."
Bodhiel "Can you tell me more about your brother… and this warrior on fire?"
Avalokiteshvara's waved his hand. A living vision appeared light weaving itself into images in the air before Bodhiel. He narrated, and the fabric of existence seemed to listen.
"In the beginning, there was nothing no light, no time, no form. Only Śūnyatā, the boundless emptiness. From this emptiness hatched three primordial eggs, born not of time or space, but from the formless womb of nothingness.''
"From these eggs came the God of Creation, who breathed existence into being; the Goddess of Time, who flows freely across all moments, shaping every story; and the God of Life and Death, who guides souls through the endless cycle of rebirth.''
"Together, they forged the Omniverse an infinite sea of realities, dimensions, and possibilities beyond measure. They stand beyond all worlds, weaving creation, life, and time into the divine tapestry of existence.''
"In the boundless expanse of existence, beyond the grasp of mortal comprehension, the God of Creation whose essence birthed all that is wove into being a new order of divine entities. These were the New Gods, born from fragments of his own infinite divinity. Each was not merely a being, but the living embodiment of profound cosmic concepts, transcending the limits of physics, time, and logic itself. They moved freely through planes of infinite dimensions, where existence itself bent to thought and will, and where realities could be forged or undone with but a breath.''
Among these exalted ones, there arose a singular figure of great brilliance and solemn conviction the God of Stars. His heart was kind, yet weighed with a grave certainty. He perceived the folly of mortal beings: their endless conflicts, their suffering under disease and strife, their restless grasp at freedom without wisdom. To him, their destiny left to chance was madness, a spiral without purpose.
Yet what he despised even more was the sight of gods, mythologies, and religions, each governing their hyperverses in arrogance and disorder. He saw their rivalries as vanity, their decrees as cruelty, their governance as flawed and blind. In his conviction, he declared that he alone deserved to stand above such fractured rule. For only the Outer Gods, beings of greater vision and magnitude, were fit to command the span of hyperverses and the mortals within them and he believed himself destined to be their herald, their rightful voice of dominion.
"Clad in celestial fire and crowned with the light of dying suns, he ascended the sacred Spiral of Eternity, moving toward the very Throne of Creation itself the seat reserved for those firstborn of divinity. His every step echoed through the multiversal fabric, bending time and warping probability beneath the weight of his will.''
"When he stood before the Creator the One beyond all existence, whose presence holds the very axis of the Omniverse the God of Stars spoke with unwavering intent,
"Let us assume dominion over the Hyperverses. We, the Prime Deities, Outer Gods, shaped from your essence and forged in primordial flame, have watched mythologies spiral into chaos. Mortals desecrate their own realms, gods war without vision, timelines fracture, and narratives unravel. Let us bring order. Let us govern the pantheons. Under one divine hierarchy, all mythologies shall be united."
"But the Creator's voice thundered with immutable authority, shattering that claim like sacred law: "We are not monarchs. We are its watchers and stewards. These pantheons must live and grow by their own will. Their gods must lead; their mortals must choose. This is the nature of sentience, the essence of freedom. Our charge is to protect the infinite spiral of possibility not to overwrite it."
"The Creator stood firm, declaring that the role of the divine was not to rule over mythologies, religions, hyperverses, or dimensions, but to preserve existence's grand architecture and defend the fragile boundary that separates reality from the chaos beyond the final veil.''
"Though the God of Stars bowed his head, a storm of rebellion burned within him. His crown's light dimmed, but his eyes blazed with dangerous conviction the kind that births schisms among gods.''
"From that moment, a silent rift grew within the Primordial Order not by war or blade, but through irreconcilable ideology, sharper and deeper than any dimension.''
"The God of Stars, once a guardian of celestial grace, turned his ambition toward dominion over all darkness. With cunning, he persuaded the God of the Afterlife and the God of Time to bind every manifestation of evil from across infinite hyperverses and timelines into himself, claiming this was the sole path to end chaos and enforce eternal order.''
"Darkness gathered around him like a swirling black tempest, its tendrils seeping into his very essence, devouring the light that once defined his being. His skin blackened to a chilling void streaked with royal blue, cold as dead stars. This was no mere physical change his soul had become an abyss echoing with malice and despair.''
"His radiant robes faded to garments of shadow, adorned with jewels pulsing malevolent energy. His every step radiated a presence that commanded both submission and dread. The cosmos itself recoiled before his newfound, corrupt power.''
"He named himself Ravana.''
"No longer protector, but the living embodiment of all evil, Ravana became a tyrant fueled by the very darkness he sought to control. His power was unmatched, his will unyielding, and his heart as cold and empty as the void he now inhabited.''
"The divine forces, even united the God of Creation, the God of Time, and the God of the Afterlife found their strength wane in the presence of his overwhelming darkness. Their luminous forms, once radiant with hope and might, dimmed in despair as they fled, their retreat echoing through the shattered remnants of the celestial realm.''
"Ravana's insatiable hunger for destruction and conquest knew no bounds. He laid waste to heaven itself, reducing sacred realms to smoldering ruins.''
"With him followed a legion of devoted followers blue-skinned beings who worshipped him as their supreme lord.''
"Yet Ravana's cruelty extended beyond conquest. He unleashed all the evil born in the world yurei, rakshasa, pishacha, wraiths, banshees, demons, dementors, succubi, incubi, wendigos, skinwalkers, soul eaters, ghosts, and specters.''
"His dominion sought to imprison souls, ensuring none reached heaven's light. They were condemned instead to hell, or forced to wander the mortal realm, worshipping him or facing utter destruction.''
"With every victory, Ravana's power swelled, as did the terror gripping those who dared oppose him.''
"Infinite hyperverses each containing countless timelines quaked beneath his dark influence. Galaxies trembled. The very fabric of reality bore the stain of his corruption.''
Thus stands the dire truth: a god once born of light, consumed by darkness, whose rebellion threatens the eternal balance itself.''
Bodhiel how was he defeated? Was it your brother who defeated him? And I'm confused didn't you create everything?
Avalokiteśvara's voice grew steady, his magic weaving the tapestry of history.
"Everything will be revealed soon, young one."
He continued,
"The sea of events is vast and ever shifting. Amidst the ruins of defeated gods and shattered timelines, hope was born through my mother, Prajñāpāramitā.
She manifested in her awe-inspiring eighteen-armed form, radiating divine grace and wisdom beyond measure. Her skin was a deep, rich brown like fertile earth, strong and regal. Her long hair flowed like midnight waterfalls, shimmering with cosmic light. Her eyes burned with ancient wisdom, piercing the veil of ignorance.
My mother saw the suffering of existence.
With Dimension Ascension, she created a secret Heaven hidden beyond even infinite.
There, she birthed nine trillion children me and my siblings.
We became the rebirth of everything.
When a universe dies, we return it.
When a multiverse crumbles, we rebuild it.
Even if only one being still remembers it we restore it.
Among us, Vajrapāṇi and I were chosen to stand against the coming darkness.
Wherever my mother stands, the cosmic void glows with the brilliance of a boundless suns, offering solace and hope her boundless compassion guiding all toward liberation, even in the darkest of times."
For four eons, we wandered the wreckage of Hyperverses saving what we could after Ravana destroyed them.
We were meditating in the hidden Heaven my mother, Prajñāpāramitā, created. She was teaching us the sacred truths of the Prajñāpāramitā Sūtra the wisdom of emptiness, of compassion, of ultimate liberation.
It was during one such lesson that Ravana found us.
He pierced the veil of Heaven itself my mother's most sacred hiding place.
And he attacked.
He struck down my sister, Mañjuśrī, right in front of me.
She didn't even have time to rise.
Vajrapāṇi, my brother, exploded into fury. The air cracked with the sound of thunder as he charged at Ravana. Their battle shook the bones of reality, ripping through the garden of our sanctuary. Hyperversus screamed in their clash.
But even Vajrapāṇi could not overcome the monster.
My mother, seeing the carnage, intervened.
With the full force of Dimension Ascension and the life strings she wove, she created a celestial bridge and tore us from Ravana's reach, hurling us through divine space into a new universe untouched by war, untouched by memory.
There, before she passed away turning into cosmic dust as she vanished into Nirvana she said only one thing:
"Find your path. Not even I can walk it for you."
Those were the last words she spoke before she passed away, dissolving into cosmic dust as she vanished into Nirvana.
When my brother, Vajrapāṇi, and I landed in this new universe pristine, untouched by war or memory he turned to me with fire in his eyes.
"We need to build an army," he said. "Begin training. Prepare for battle. We must avenge her. We have to stop Ravana."
But I told him no. I told him we must honor our mother's final teaching. Follow her path nonviolence. We do not chase conflict. We do not become what we despise.
He shouted back at me, his voice trembling, "Someone has to! Someone has to stand up to Ravana. After what he did to her… to our family... I won't let him do it to anyone else."
She told us to find our own path.
We parted ways that day.
Each of us walked into the unknown choosing our own truth.
I chose the path of healing.
I vowed to turn away from violence to follow in my mother's footsteps, to restore rather than fight. I would become the balm for a wounded cosmos, the whisper of peace in the heart of war.
But Vajrapāṇi…
He chose a different way.
The path of a warrior.
Of a hero.
He swore he would never again stand helpless while his family was torn apart. His fists became thunderbolts, his gaze a vow, Never again.
Bodhiel (quietly, yet firmly)
"You've told me so much already and yet this Ravana he seems impossible to defeat.
From the visions you've shown me the worlds Honor One.
Your brother he doesn't have the black wings yet.
So tell me how did he get them?
How did he become so powerful?"
Avalokiteśvara:
"He chased vengeance.
He walked the long, burning road.
He wandered through voids and chaos, through shattered timelines, Multiversus, Mythologies, religions, Hyperversus, and broken prayers
not to claim power for himself.
but to stop Rāvana.
As much as it tore through me, it tore through him too.
My brother never craved strength for pride.
He needed it to avenge are mother.
To make right what was undone.
There was nothing more sacred to him.
Nothing more important.
And so, he searched.
And in that search.
he was changed."
In time, he found the Black Lotus the boundless root of all emptiness.
The same power that birthed the first gods.
He bound it to himself.
He shaped it into wings.
Wings that store entire universes.
With Dimension Ascension, he folded reality into himself training for millennia, while Rāvana still spread ruin.
Vajrapāṇi became the storm.
He saved fallen universes, swallowed them into his wings, and created his own multiverse within.
He became known across realities…
The Angel of the Thunderbolt.
The Dharma Fist.
The Flame of Vow.
He is the warrior on fire.
He burns not for destruction but to protect.
To end the cycle of suffering.
To fulfill our mother's final wish."
Bodhiel (softly, almost in disbelief):
"He was powerful enough… to make a multiverse out of his wings."
He pauses.
"Can you tell me… about the universes he made?"
Avalokiteśvara's smiling faintly
"Yes. Listen closely, young one.
Each universe he forged… holds a secret vow, a memory, a scar.
And I shall tell you about them some."
He leans forward, his gaze deep and glowing with remembrance.
"The first universe he ever made… came from a scar."
"He had wandered the Omniverse alone
training in the fires of collapsed realities,
saving broken hyperverses swallowed by Rāvana's army.
And though he fought with everything he had,
he lost. Not once but again and again."
"Not because he was weak…
but because Rāvana never fought alone."
"He came with legions warriors stitched from annihilated timelines, shattered universes, collapsed multiverses, and broken hyperverses. A choir of rage, singing in unison across infinite versions of hell echoing through the entire Omniverse."
"My brother understood.
He could not win by might alone.
He needed a vow. He needed a legion of his own.
So… he turned inward.
He opened his hands to the cosmos,
and activated Dimension Ascension to create his own universe of warriors."
So my brother decided to make his own warriors. He spread his wings wide his Black Lotus Wings and, through Dimension Ascension, he shaped an entire universe from his own essence.
In his wings, each feather and each petal is embedded with countless eyes the Tenshi no Me. So small they cannot be seen by mortal sight, yet each one holds an entire universe within it. His wings are not mere appendages but a living constellation a vast, breathing firmament. And within one of those universes, of his own creation, lies Bodhisena. Woven along its constellation-threads, entire worlds bloom with warriors unlike any found in mortal realms. These are not soldiers shaped by blade, nor champions forged merely through conflict. They are grown.
Each warrior begins as a divine seed an echo of Vajrapāṇi, the first bearer of the Black Lotus Wings.
In the universe he created Bodhisena, infinite in size and boundless in possibility countless planets float like sacred lanterns across the void. No two are the same. Each one holds its own laws, climates, and soul. Vajrapāṇi journeyed across these infinite planets, and upon each, he planted his essence as a seed.
Each seed falls upon a different planet, embedding deep within its soil, stone, or sea. Over the span of five full planetary cycles five years by mortal measure the seed germinates. What emerges is a warrior born of both divine memory and planetary essence.
No two worlds birth the same form of warrior male and female alike shaped by the spirit of their world:
From suns of molten gold rise radiant beings of plasma and flame muscles forged in heat, nerves pulsing with solar fire.
From oceans of echoing silence emerge blue-skinned monks, shaped from vibration and void, moving like thunder wrapped in stillness.
Some are stone giants, carved from aeons, their bodies layered with time itself each step a reminder of forgotten gods.
Others are dancers of mist and memory, their strikes like living prayer, weaving through battle as if through sacred air.
Even the beasts are divine exotic creatures born from Bodhisena's breath. Serpents made of lightning. Lions with crystal spines. Wolves that howl in pure energy. They do not serve they walk beside the warriors, as equals, as echoes of the same flame.
All are united by a singular, unshakable purpose
The Will of Enlightenment through Battle.
They do not fight for glory.
They do not fight for conquest.
They fight to ascend to sharpen soul through struggle
and for the ultimate honor:
To be summoned.
To stand at the side of their master.
To burn with him in war that echoes across stars.
They meditate as they spar. They chant as they strike. They breathe in the sacred winds of their world and exhale readiness, harmony, and restraint.
Within Bodhisena, the infinite universe of his creation, my brother walks among the stars.
He visits this infinite universe. often, ensuring the seeds he once planted bloom into warriors worthy of their origin.
Across planets each unique, none the same he trains them, tempers them, prepares them.
But such power must be known.
It must be understood, honored, and judged.
And so, my brother the strongest being in his universe he forged formed a sacred order.
The Galactic Front of Dharma Oversight.
They were not conquerors, nor tyrants robed in divine authority. They were watchers. Listeners. Seekers of alignment. The eyes of Bodhisena, scattered across the cosmos like lotus seeds in the wind. Each one armored in woven starlight, their bodies inscribed with ever-blooming glyphs that shimmered with the memory of ancient chants.
They traveled between planet not to judge, but to understand. To ensure that every planet, every warrior born under a sun, moved in accordance with the sacred rhythm of growth. Strength alone was not enough. It never was. Not in a universe built upon the breath of harmony.
Their mission was simple, yet infinite: to observe, to test, and to classify. And so they did.
Each generation of warriors across the Infinite blooming systems was studied not through battle alone, but through reflection. A warrior's worth was measured not only by the might of their body, but by the balance of their soul. The body may shatter mountains, but if the spirit trembled in confusion, it was not yet ready.
To measure this balance, my brother devised the Dharma Rank System a scale of enlightenment and potential:
S-Rank — Shura-Class: Transcendent warriors who shape reality and walk beside gods.A-Rank — Arhat-Class: Enlightened champions, flawless in mind and form.B-Rank — Bodhi-Class: Spiritually grounded and strong in purpose.C-Rank — Sattva-Class: Capable, evolving, still walking the sacred path.D-Rank — Karma-Class: Burdened or clouded, struggling in dharmic resonance.F-Rank — Mara-Class: Fallen echoes, corrupted or broken. These are sealed, cleansed, or reborn.
But classification was not enough. He sought a system that would move alongside time itself, a mechanism that could mirror the constant unfolding of being. And so he forged what the cosmos would come to know as:
The Card System.
With each birth in the universe whether it be a mortal child born under the crimson moons of Zūratha, or a godling erupting from a collapsing star a card was secretly born. It was not paper, nor metal, but consciousness woven into structure. A living registry, tethered to the soul it represented.
It pulsed with their truth.
This was no mere identification. This was a sacred bond. These cards, unseen by most, could only be accessed by the anointed those who carried the lotus mark of the Front. Each card evolved in real time, growing as its bearer grew, shifting in power, in insight, in karma.
To use them was to summon directly from the weave of existence.
The Summoning System of the Black Lotus Universe became legend.
Through the sacred bond of the Black Lotus Wings, Vajrapāṇi, the master of balance and fury, could summon warriors directly from the Codex.
Summons emerged through radiant portals mandalas of gold and lotus light that bloomed in the sky, on the battlefield, or carved themselves into the very fabric of space. From these gateways stepped beings shaped by the truth encoded within their essence, each called forth by the sacred bond of the Codex.
Some came at a whisper Direct Summons, responding the moment Vajrapāṇi spoke their true name. Others were traps waiting patiently glyphs and vortexes hidden in plain sight, activating only when fate allowed. And there were those tied to deeper currents Conditional Summons, awakened only when time, spirit, or the environment ripened like fruit on the vine.
Each summon was bound to a living card, drawn from the Codex of the Lotus Archive, a registry as vast as the cosmos itself. These cards revealed more than identity they told of origin worlds and elemental affinities, recorded Dharma Ranks from the transcendent to the fallen, and tracked the bearer's growth through stats like power, health, speed, defense, and spirit. Signature techniques and hidden limits lay dormant within, along with their current level, their evolution path, and the unique conditions under which they could be called.
To hold one of these cards was to hold a fragment of fate. To summon from it... was to command the will of the universe Bodhisena itself.
Bodhiel, interrupting
"So the Council the collected Front are the strongest warriors. And they… rank the rest of the Warriors."
Avalokiteśvara:
"That is correct.
The Galactic Front, the strongest among the multitudes, are usually the first to be summoned in dire times.
But there is… another."
A warrior not born from any world, but manifested
not forged by time, but breathed into being by my brother's rage.
This warrior is not like the others.
He is the embodiment of Vajrapāṇi's anger. This warrior is called Xodia.
Every flame of wrath, every whisper of fury within the Black Lotus
it all gathers within Xodia.
This warrior is always chained.
Golden karma wraps his massive form, and in the center of Xodia chest glows a burning vajra.
At his calmest, he stands 15 feet tall, horns curling back like crescent blades.
Behind Xodia, the Black Lotus blooms, its petals sharp and rising like obsidian spears.
The Galactic Front watches him constantly,
making sure the embodiment of wrath, Xodia does not lose control.
But when he is summoned…
He comes with his chains still on.
Bodhiel (quietly):
"He sounds terrifying… The fact that he is your brother's rage incarnate…"
Avalokiteśvara:
"Yes.
But now, with him, and with the Galactic Front assembled,
my brother commands an army worthy of resisting even Rāvana,
the devourer of realms."
Bodhiel (curious):
"And… what about the other universes your brother made?"
Avalokiteśvara (turns, eyes glowing faint gold):
"Ah… the other universes…"
Bodhisena is but one lotus in the endless pond.
My brother, in his compassion and vision, crafted many realms
each with its own laws, its own souls, and its own forms of Dharma.
Avalokiteśvara,
"He created a universe...
a place unlike any other.
He named it the Universe of Kārmā.
Not a realm of stars or silence,
but a living embodiment of balance itself.
A prison. A mirror. A weapon forged from truth."
Bodhiel stares in disbelief.
"World's honor…
He made Karma itself into a universe?
What does he do with this universe?"
Avalokiteśvara turns his gaze to the distant cosmos, then continues:
"After my brother Vajrapāṇi
the Thunderbolt Hand of the Cosmic Dharma
defeated the Ravana forces across countless mythologies, dimensions, and hyperverses,
He saved countless beings.
Some he pulled from dying timelines.
Others he rescued from shattered realities.
But not all were innocent.
Some were monsters
the very embodiment of evil.
Their crimes went beyond redemption, beyond containment.
They couldn't simply be locked away.
So after saving them, defeating and capturing, he judged them.
And though my brother's soul burned with both wrath and compassion
ever since our mother, Prajñāpāramitā, was torn from existence,
whenever the urge to kill surged within him,
he remembered her teachings
they held him back, tempered his fury.
He never let rage rule his hand.
He killed only in absolute defense.
Vengeance alone, he believed, was not justice.
He needed something greater.
So he searched.
Through forgotten eons and annihilated cycles,
across trillions of hyperverses,
through realms even gods no longer dream of.
Until finally
he found it.
Not a metaphor.
Not a belief.
But Karma itself
the Source.
The eternal, golden truth that binds cause and effect across all of existence.
It was not passive. It was not blind.
It was alive.
A divine constant that predates gods, time, and thought itself.
And my brother…
he grasped it with his own hands.
He tore open his very soul through Dimension Ascension,
enduring years of agony,
willing Karma into form.
The raw energy flayed his flesh day by day
his skin burning, his body unraveling.
But he didn't stop.
His scream echoed across the void
as he shaped that power into a sealed realm.
The Universe of Kārmā.
An infinite space of golden judgment
no stars, no sky, no escape.
Just a single, endless radiant wall:
the Wall of Reflection the Karma-Darpaṇa.
Within it:
the worst souls of the omniverse.
Trapped.
Bound in the echo of their own deeds.
If you murdered
you relive it through every victim's scream.
If you enslaved
you become the enslaved.
If you harmed
you suffer the harm.
You do not die.
You reflect.
Forever.
This is the Karmic Curse.
Not divine punishment
but reality enforcing balance.
He could not rewrite the past.
But he forged a place where every thread of sin answers to itself.
And now…
Though Vajrapāṇi, my brother, is gone
his universe lives on.
And it is now in the hands of Adamus.
Let the wicked fear what that means."
Bodhiel:
That universe sounds incredible and terrifying. World's honor, one.
Avalokiteśvara:
Yes. After Vajrapāṇi created the Universe of Kārmā, he kept fighting Ravana and his infinite armies across the Omniverse. He won battles, he lost battles saving some hyperverses, losing others. But he realized something crucial. Ravana had countless weapons spread throughout the Omniverse, and to truly stand against him, Vajrapāṇi needed to match that power.
He saw the mistakes he made in battle not from malice, but from urgency. Weapons he never built, tools he never mastered, gifts he never gave, lives he could not save. Instead, he searched for a solution.
He demanded a solution.
And so, through the divine power of Dimension Ascension,
he created a living universe
a self-sustaining realm born not from war,
but from reflection.
It is one of the sacred worlds hidden within his Black Lotus Wings:
The Universe of Weapons
Vajra-Saṃsāra (वज्र-संसार) — "The Thunderbolt Cycle"
There are no planets in this universe.
No cities.
No stars.
Only clouds.
Infinite, endless clouds tretching beyond comprehension,
layer upon layer drifting in spirals of divine memory.
And within those clouds, golden thunder rumbles
not random noise,
but lightning crafted from Vajrapāṇi's own Dharma,
his will, his energy, and most of all…
his mistakes.
Each time he faltered in battle,
each moment a spell pierced his armor,
or a warrior fell beside him,
the thunder within this sacred sky stirred.
Lightning strikes lightning.
Bolt collides with bolt.
Each violent clash birthing a spark
and from those sparks,
a weapon is born.
A sword to slice through illusions.
A shield to guard against cursed fire.
A gauntlet that turns rage into silence.
These are not weapons made by hand.
They are manifestations
pure Dharma crystallized by error,
by compassion,
by the need to never fail the same way twice.
This is the law of Vajra-Saṃsāra:
Every mistake makes a blade.
Every flaw becomes a form.
When Vajrapāṇi is struck by magic too fierce for flesh to endure, the thunder does not retreat it roars. The storm listens. And the Codex answers.
Just as there is a record of warriors, so too exists a living Codex of weapons each one born in the crucible of divine necessity, cataloged not with ink, but with memory. Every time Vajrapāṇi requires a shield, a blade, or a sacred tool, a glowing card forms in his grasp first etched in celestial script, humming with intent. It explains itself. Its nature. Its limit. And then, with a flicker of lightning, the weapon appears in his hand, summoned not from a forge, but from the truth of the moment that demanded it.
When Ravana casts a cursed flame unlike anything seen in the cosmos, Vajra-Saṃsāra doesn't merely defend. It listens to the cry of the flame, translates the shape of its fury, and from that understanding, creates a weapon an exact answer, a mirror born of empathy and force. A new card is formed, forged from that universe's unique rage and written into Vajrapāṇi's Codex forever.
But these weapons do not belong to him alone.
Each sacred armament, born from storm and memory, can be granted across Universe to Bodhisena's warriors, to the guardians of his other universes. Through the Codex, Vajrapāṇi can merge two cards one of a being, one of a weapon and transfer divine instruments to others, allowing the harmony of cosmos and war to echo beyond their origin.
Now, in the present,
Adamus Jovajra commands this universe.
The storm obeys him.
The weapons answer his call.
Bodhiel tilted his head, brows raised in quiet wonder.
"Wow… your brother commands infinite universes some of the strongest I've ever heard of. But... can I ask you something?" His voice lowered, thoughtful. "Why does he summon things through those cards? Why use a system like that.
Avalokiteśvara smiled softly, a glint of memory flickering behind his serene gaze.
"Yes, he holds more universes than most minds can count. And I'll tell you about more of them soon. But understand there's a reason he uses the Codex."
He paused, as if touching something far away.
"When we were young before the ascension, before the stars bowed to his presence we used to play a simple card game. Just the two of us. Every night, without fail, before we went to sleep. It was our ritual. Our shared space. We crafted little stories for each card... made heroes and villains, forged kingdoms and fates in the palm of our hands."
His eyes grew distant, fond.
Now that he had become what he was before the end he never forgot those nights. That joy. That simplicity. And instead of discarding it… he made it sacred. The Codex became his way of honoring those memories. Each card he summoned had been more than just power. It was a record. A tribute. A part of his past given purpose.
Avalokiteśvara lifted a hand, and a translucent card shimmered into view, a crystalline glyph of frost spiraling across its surface.
"For example… that was the Ice World," he said quietly. "A realm where logic froze and thought slowed to a crawl. He didn't just draw on its power he summoned the entire universe into battle. The ground would turn to pale, glistening frost. Even breath became a weapon. Time itself would stutter beneath its weight."
With a flick, the card dissolved, and another pulsed into view this one glowing green and slick with acid-dark hues.
"And this was the Acid Realm. A corrosive plane where rain melted stone and the wind peeled away energy. He called it forth too sometimes to enshroud armies in poisonous air, other times to cast enemies into its burning depths."
One by one, more cards appeared, each radiant with remembered might:
"The Lava World… where fire flowed like blood, and skies cracked open with molten storms. The Gravity Realm… where unseen weight pressed so heavily, it could grind entire legions to dust. The Ocean Sphere… a world of drowning depth, where even light could not escape. The Mountain World… ancient stone ridges that rearranged themselves mid-battle walls, spears, sanctuaries born from rock."
"And this… was the Crystal World. A conscious dimension made of reflective matter. It listened. It learned. It adapted."
Avalokiteśvara closed his hand, and the card faded into starlight. He turned back to Bodhiel, his voice now a low echo of reverence.
"He didn't fight with brute strength alone. He fought with memory. With art. With discipline. Every universe he once held… became a card. And every card, a choice. That was how he waged war not as a tyrant, but as the boy who never stopped playing the game we made together. And in the end… he became the warrior he had always been in those games. The one he dreamed of being. Not through fantasy… but through remembrance."
Bodhiel's voice sharpened.
"I want to hear about the fight. Now."
Avalokiteśvara's expression softened, his voice almost distant. "I haven't even told you about the strongest one yet. But before I speak of the battles between him and Ravana, you need to understand something more important. Before every war, before each omniversal clash that threatened all existence, my brother would visit a certain universe. It wasn't forged for combat. It wasn't filled with power. It was a quiet place one where our mother was still alive."
Bodhiel stood still, listening.
"So… he brought your mother back? Your real mother?"
Avalokiteśvara shook his head.
"No. He didn't bring her back.
All he did was create a universe where she still existed
not truly her, but close enough.
A place of peace… for him.
He just couldn't let her go."
"He would go there not to prepare," Avalokiteśvara continued, "but to remember. To remember why he fights. Why he gets up, again and again, even after being broken. He would visit that world to remind himself of love, of grief, of what we lost. He needed to see her to feel, just for a moment, like everything he was doing had meaning."
"She meant everything," Avalokiteśvara said. "To both of us. To our nine trillion brothers and sisters, scattered across stars and ages. To the entire omniverse. She is gone now. She's in Nirvana. But her absence still hurts. I carry that pain, just like he does. The difference is… my brother never truly learned her final lesson."
"What lesson?" Bodhiel asked quietly.
Avalokiteśvara turned toward him. "Do not forget but do not let your pain become your path. That was the essence of her wisdom. It was the core of the Prajñāpāramitā Sutra. To see through the illusion of permanence, to let go without losing yourself. To act with compassion not from grief, but from clarity."
He paused, voice heavy with emotion. "But my brother chose a different road. Not a wrong one, not evil just different. He walks it alone, surrounded by storm, not silence. He couldn't let go of the sorrow. So he forged something out of it. He turned regret into resolve, pain into power. He never forgot. He never will."
Avalokiteśvara stepped forward, his voice calm but edged with deep, ancient memory.
"Now, I will tell you of one of the battles between my brother, Vajrapāṇi, and Ravana. Listen closely. Not to the spectacle. Not for the destruction. But for the clash of Dharma."
The skies of the omniverse thundered as their armies met Vajrapāṇi's divine legions against the boundless horrors of Ravana's spawn. It was a war that echoed across time, epic and tense, like the breath held before the universe blinks. But amidst that war, something unexpected happened.
My brother… met his wife.
Lady Death.
From the portal's shimmer came a vision that seized the breath of all who gazed upon it.
The Daughter of Ravana one among his unfathomable quintillion progeny stepped forth in the vision, a demoness known by countless names and feared under countless titles.
She stood at Vajrapāṇi's side, her presence a paradox of allure and dread. Her features were distinctly Asian: sharp yet graceful, framed by long strands of midnight-black hair that cascaded like shadows of ink. Her eyes glowed with a violet radiance, twin amethysts burning with ancient malice. From her brow curved two immaculate white horns, smooth and cruel, gleaming like ivory blades.
Her body was clad in liquid-metal garments, shifting as though alive, fused with dark purple armor etched in serpentine markings. Each coil and scale of the design pulsed faintly, as if venom slumbered within. Across her back rested a colossal sword, its sheer size and weight defying mortal comprehension.
But it was not her weapon, nor her armor, that made her most feared. It was her beauty.
She was so breathtaking, so impossibly radiant, that mortals could not bear the sight—one glance upon her face was said to unravel the soul, killing the beholder in an instant.
A yokai demoness, a vision of death draped in elegance.
Bodhiel's eyes widened. "You're trying to tell me… your brother had a relationship with a demon?"
Avalokiteśvara nodded without shame. "Yes. Not only did he love her… he had children with her. Many. We do not judge, young angel. You must understand."
"She was a demon," Avalokiteśvara whispered. "She committed unspeakable acts with her father across the multiverse. She slaughtered millions…"
Avalokiteśvara, "But my brother… he saw the good in her. With his charm and his truth, he reached her heart. And she eventually joined his side."
Together, slowly but surely, they began to reclaim the omniverse. Their love was a light in the abyss, and the armies of Ravana began to fall. Whole Universes multiverses hyperversus were liberated. Dimensions reclaimed. Until at last, Ravana fled, his power shattered… his own daughter betraying him.
And in his retreat, my brother took the throne of Heaven. Lady Death became the sovereign of the afterlife and of Hell not in cruelty, but in redemption. She took her father's domain… and transformed it.
Bodhiel's eyes shimmered. "So they lived happily ever after?"
Avalokiteśvara smiled, just barely. "They lived peacefully. The omniverse knew peace for the first time in eons. They bore children, and together they created countless universes… entire hyperverses. An angel and a demon… bringing harmony where none thought possible."
"But then," Avalokiteśvara said, his voice growing dark, "Ravana returned. Not as the broken tyrant of before, but with vengeance in his heart. He captured Lady Death… and their children. He used them as bait."
"My brother fought with all he had. And in the end… to save the woman who had taken his mother's place in his heart… he sacrificed himself."
Avalokiteśvara closed his eyes, pain flickering behind them.
"Ravana… killed my brother that day."
Bodhiel's voice trembled. "What happened to his wife? To the children?"
"That… is a story for another day," Avalokiteśvara murmured.
Bodhiel looked up, grief tightening his chest. "So that's how your brother died. Where were you when this was happening?"
Avalokiteśvara breathed deeply, his aura shimmering with ancient light. "While my brother waged war, I too was protecting the omniverse… in my way. I healed the sick. Created hyperverses. Worked quietly, in the shadows like my mother, Prajñāpāramitā. I avoided conflict."
"In those days, I found a planet. A peaceful world called Bodhi Zen. Its people the Bodhi Zen Tribe became my companions. With them, I created entire hyperverses and protected refugees from Ravana's wrath."
Bodhiel blinked. "That tribe… the one that lives among the heavens now?"
Avalokiteśvara smiled gently. "Yes. They are your ancestors, young one."
He paused, then continued.
"One day… I heard the news of my brother's death. I traveled across collapsed stars and broken timelines to find him. His body lay there, divine and still. I wept… not just for him, but because I knew he had not reached Nirvana. His soul would be recycled."
"I used a sacred technique, one only I knew. I absorbed his essence into myself. Gained four arms. And an eye on my forehead. But I was too late. I could not absorb all of him."
He looked away.
Avalokiteśvara eyes widened, his voice soft, awestruck.
"A part of him… would be reborn elsewhere," he repeated.
Then the understanding struck him like the ringing of a sacred bell.
Bodhiel's ,"Ohh…" he breathed. "So that's who Adamus Jovajra is."
He turned to Avalokiteśvara, reverence growing in his expression.
"Your brother… he was reborn. That's his reincarnation."
Avalokiteśvara smiled faintly no pride, no sorrow, only the deep, serene acceptance of one who has walked through eons. His voice was gentle, but it carried the weight of time and love.
"Yes." "Yes. Now let me finish the story. Let me continue."
Avalokiteśvara's eyes grew distant. "I meditated. Opened my Tenshi no Me. Pierced all layers of reality. I saw the suffering of all things. Even those never born, and those already destroyed."
"And from that boundless sorrow… I cried. A single tear fell. It landed upon a lotus flower."
His hand rose, as if seeing the memory bloom before him.
"From the ashes of ruin and the depths of suffering," I said, "this lotus has emerged. Bearing a jewel forged from my tears. A reminder that even in the darkest of times, beauty can be born from pain. That light can emerge from the shadows."
He raised his palm. A faint glow flickered in the center.
"My sorrow, my grief they were not in vain. They birthed this crystal. A jewel connected to all of existence… and nonexistence."
I brought the Om Mani Padme Hum crystal back to the Bodhi Zen Temple.
It pulsed with power born not of rage, but of suffering. Suffering I had felt in its making. My tears had shaped it. My grief had forged it.
And in that moment, as I held it in my hands, I truly understood.
The strength of my brother.
The compassion of my mother.
Both lived within me.
It was then I found my own mantra. My truth. My vow.
"Om Mani Padme Hum."
This was not just a chant. It was a path. A reminder. A beacon.
I taught it to the monks. Not as a weapon, but as a light in the darkness.
"Because you cannot have kindness without strength," I told them. "And you cannot have true strength without kindness."
So we waited.
The Final Hour of the Omniverse
There was nothing left.
The omniverse its stars, its laws, its stories, its gods had been consumed in fire and fury. Ravana, the End-Bringer, had swept across existence like a plague of oblivion. Worlds collapsed beneath him. Realities were burned clean. Timelines fell like dust. All that remained was a single planet, Bodhi Zen a sacred world untouched by his rage and upon it, one final sanctuary: our temple.
And me.
I stood at the gates, draped in silence. The monks had gathered behind me, eyes closed, hearts open, awaiting my call. I watched as Ravana descended once more, the void behind him blacker than thought.
He raised his hand and cast forth an energy blast one forged from his wrath, the distilled hatred of a Infinite fallen realms. It screamed across space and time.
I did not run.
I lifted my hand and whispered:
"Full Counter ×Infinity."
I chose not to fight him with my own might. I let him fight himself. His fury turned on him, multiplied without end, a recursive storm of destruction born from his own malice. His power became his executioner.
And then, as he staggered, I spoke the most sacred words in existence.
"Om Mani Padme Hum."
My monks joined me, chanting in resonance. With every repetition, his strength drained. With every breath, his defiance cracked. With every sacred syllable, Ravana the great annihilator grew weaker.
Until at last, I stepped forward.
I placed my hand on his chest and sealed him within a red crystal, forged from my grief and divinity. The crimson prism pulsed once and then dimmed. I cast it into the Void of Hell, where no echo could escape.
And as silence returned, three figures emerged from beyond space. The Original Gods. The Triune Architects. The ones who had forged all existence at the dawn of time.
They looked upon me not with pride, but with reverence.
"You have done what even we could not," they said. "You have saved the omniverse."
And then, without another word, they vanished leaving everything in my hands.
They gave me the title: "the world's honor one"
To the warriors and monks of this sacred planet the last people in all of reality I granted divinity. I turned them into angels. I gave them the Tenshi no Me, the Eyes of the Divine, so they might never forget their role in the Great Stand.
And then I stood alone upon the quiet land. Around me, the omniverse was gone. Not broken erased.
So from my own essence, I reached into the void.
And I began again.
The Rebirth of All
With infinite will and boundless omnipotence, I did not merely restore what was lost I rebirthed all that had ever been, not as repetition, but as transcendence.
Through my ultimate ability Dimension Ascension I peeled back the hollow layers of oblivion and flooded them with higher-dimensional essence. I reignited the spark of reality itself.
From my ascension, Boundless realities unfolded: universes, multiverses, hyperverses, and timelines, each a perfect extension of my will. But I did not stop at shape or size. I went beyond it all.
Time, space, thought, concept I transcended them.
I became the origin, the singularity, the axis from which both existence and nonexistence flowed for our omniverse.
To make this truth eternal, I invoked my most sacred technique: First Cause Fist.
With it, I rewrote the timeline of everything. All that once was every history, every god, every cause was erased. The past did not exist. Only I remained as the genesis. I struck existence as if for the first time, and from that blow, the true Omniverse was born.
No longer an accident of physics. Not a cosmic fluke. But a conscious breath from a being beyond divinity a will that chose to ignite creation itself.
Before me: silence.
After me: everything.
Every supreme being, every myth, every law of reality born from my light. Every god, every soul, every story reflections of my unified vision.
I did not simply restore realms. I resurrected the totality of being.
Shattered pantheons. Forgotten deities. Worlds lost to entropy. Timelines left in ruin. I brought them back, reshaped in harmony with the will of compassion.
And more than gods returned. Through the infinite energy of Dimension Ascension and the sacred architecture of my Golden Life Strings threads that connect all things I reshaped meaning itself.
I animated thoughts.
Concepts became beings.
Fiction became reality.
From my compassion and through the boundless force of Naro Nerve Sync, I reached into my very imagination and made it breathe. Superheroes. Legends. Characters from forgotten dreams. Ghosts of myth. Digital worlds. Every story ever told, every belief ever formed they all became sovereign hyperverses.
Even those realms not yet conceived ideas unborn were given form.
And I watched them rise.
The Omniverse was no longer just restored. It was multiplied. Elevated. Sanctified.
Through one act of infinite compassion and transcendental will, I gave existence to all things real and unreal.
And in the center of it all stood my world, my temple, my people now angels, bearing the Tenshi no Me, guardians of the new creation.
This was not a beginning borrowed from the past.
This was the first beginning.
I am the Genesis of the Omniverse.
And so it was written.
And so it became.
And so it will forever be.
Bodhiel stood before Avalokiteśvara, the World's Honored One, his voice filled with quiet reverence.
"That was… an incredible story," Bodhiel whispered, gazing across the shimmering light of the Boundless expanse. "So tragic… and so beautiful. Your brother's sacrifice. The sealing of Ravana. The recreation of all things…"
Avalokiteśvara remained still, seated in his sacred lotus above the boundless golden ocean of hyperverses. His golden eyes reflected the past and future alike time swirling like petals on the surface of eternity.
Bodhiel stepped forward, hope glowing in his voice. "Your brother… he has returned. Reincarnated as Adamus. Will you bring him here? Invite him home to Heaven?"
The World's Honored One slowly shook his head.
"No," Avalokiteśvara said. His voice was calm, absolute. "He is not ready. There is still much he must learn… and much he must do. Just as he did long ago, in his past life as my brother, he must face the storm again."
He raised a single finger, pointing into the endless blue-black depths of the Omniversal Sea. Light coiled and twisted, and from that infinity came a shudder.
"There," he said.
Bodhiel followed his gaze. The waters parted, revealing a chaos-streaked hyperverse flickering like a flame in the void. Darkness pulsed from it ancient, foul, and far too familiar.
"There he is," Avalokiteśvara said solemnly. "Ravana. He has returned. Reborn. He has escaped the Void of Hell."
Bodhiel's wings trembled. "You're telling me that demon is back? But how?"
Avalokiteśvara's tone turned grave. "He was freed… by an alien race. Blue-skinned, ancient, arrogant. They believe he will help them conquer eternity. They do not understand the hunger they've unleashed."
Bodhiel's jaw clenched. "World's Honored One… are you going to stop him? What if he destroys the Omniverse again? I know you're powerful enough to recreate it… but why let it come to that? Let us stop him now."
The World's Honored One closed his eyes.
"We do not chase conflict, young one," he replied. "We mend the worlds. We restore what is broken. My brother Adamus was reborn in this very era for a reason. He and Ravana have returned together. That is no coincidence. That is Dharma."
He opened his golden eyes again. Galaxies danced in them like sparks.
"He will rise again," Avalokiteśvara said. "The warrior on fire. The Angel of the Thunderbolt of Compassion, the black Lotus given form. He will walk the path again not as vengeance, but as justice. To create order across the Omniverse. To repair every hyperverse, every religion, every mythology keeping them sovereign and whole."
He paused, and his voice lowered, thunder within stillness.
"This time, it will not be me who seals Ravana. It will be him."
Bodhiel bowed deeply. "If you say so, World's Honored One. I trust your wisdom. I have faith in you."
As Avalokiteśvara turned his gaze toward the hyperverse of Israel, Bodhiel followed. There, walking a humble path, was Adamus, unaware of the weight he carried, of the fire that slumbered within his soul.
Bodhiel's heart stirred. "This is the warrior on fire," he whispered to himself. "The one who will defeat evil again. I hope I meet you someday, Adamus Jovajra."
Silence settled again, deep and holy.
Around them, the boundless waves of hyperverses pulsed gently, like breath. In the stillness, Avalokiteśvara and Bodhiel returned to their meditation, hovering above the Eternal Sea waiting, watching, preparing for the storm to come.