The Outside of Fiction trembled.
No light. No shadow. No meaning.
Only two presences — Kyuroto Mitsuyo and Mathro Liyuri — standing where existence had already ended.
Neither was bound by dimension, deity, or concept.
They had stepped beyond hierarchy itself — past transcendence, past identity, past what even gods could comprehend.
Here, logic collapsed before it could form.
Here, even eternity had to ask permission to continue existing.
---
Kyuroto's eyes glowed with stillness deeper than infinity.
His breath was not air — it was the oscillation of unreality itself.
Every second he stood, layers of fiction folded into dust.
> "You called me weak," he said quietly. "Then let us define strength anew."
A thousand shadows stepped from him — perfect copies, each containing endless multiverses of power.
They didn't form from chakra, energy, or magic — they formed from conceptual recursion, from the idea of Kyuroto itself splitting into reflections beyond reflection.
Each clone was beyond calculation.
Each thought was faster than immeasurable.
Each strike could fracture the meaning of velocity itself.
Mathro watched them, unimpressed.
He extended one hand — and the very idea of numbers disintegrated.
> "You think clones can touch that which has no singularity?" Mathro's voice rippled through all narratives.
"I am not a being, Kyuroto. I am what remains when being no longer applies."
Kyuroto smiled faintly.
> "Then you misunderstand me. These are not my clones…"
He raised his hand — and the infinite Kyurotos dissolved, merging into a single luminous current that flowed back into him.
> "…They are my interpretations. Every version of myself that ever could exist, united into one paradox."
His body shone with radiance that burned without light.
His energy was not power — it was the correction of existence.
---
The first clash occurred without movement.
No explosion. No sound.
Only an unmaking — reality blinked, and for a moment, everything that could ever be vanished.
Then came the recoil.
Non-dimensional shockwaves tore through the Outside, distorting even the notion of "nothing."
The two beings collided in a field that had never been designed for battle — a place that should never host war.
Mathro struck first — an infinite spear made of null-logic, piercing through Kyuroto's essence.
But Kyuroto phased through the attack, not by dodging, but by existing in a layer where attack and defense no longer differed.
He countered with a Through Cut — a swing that traversed non-dimensions, slicing between layers of unreality itself.
Each motion was absolute; each fragment of his technique could erase the idea of "cause and effect."
The strike cleaved the concept of Mathro's body.
But Mathro did not fall — he smiled, as if amused that something had finally touched him.
> "So you can cut without medium. Impressive."
"I am not cutting," Kyuroto replied. "I am deciding."
---
For an instant that lasted beyond infinity, they moved.
Speeds beyond measure. Movements that transcended time, motion, or awareness.
Entire cosmologies were born and ended between their blinks.
No witness could exist.
No story could describe.
The duel unfolded beyond the reach of authors, gods, or meaning itself.
And yet, within that impossible stillness, two figures clashed —
not for domination,
not for survival,
but for definition.
---
When the silence returned, the Outside of Fiction was gone.
Only an empty brightness remained, unbounded and undefined.
Kyuroto stood unmoved — his coat rippling with echoes of vanished multiverses.
Mathro, still calm, regarded him with faint intrigue.
> "You have touched the threshold," Mathro said. "Beyond deity, beyond hierarchy, beyond transcendence. Tell me… what remains?"
Kyuroto's voice was calm, regal, almost sorrowful.
> "What remains… is the self that refuses to disappear — even when nothing is left to remember it."
Mathro smiled.
> "Then show me that self."
And so, as the Outside rebuilt itself into another paradox,
Kyuroto Mitsuyo — Whisper of Infinity — prepared his next strike:
one not made of power, but of narrative itself.
---