It began not with a bang, but with a convergence.
My grandfather, a Plumber Proctor named Anos Diabolos, was a pragmatic man. His Osmosian ability was a tool, one he used with discipline. He never sought to become a monster of absorbed matter. His philosophy was one of permanence and purity. On a deep-space mission, he encountered a space storm and was saved by his dying To'kustar comrade, a celestial giant bleeding cosmic light into the void. As it was dying and grandpa won't survive he asked grandpa to absorb his essence—not just its energy, but its very nature. The strength to shatter asteroids, the durability to withstand supernovas, the power to wield the cosmos as a weapon. And he did it without changing his human form. He had achieved the Osmosian ideal: perfect, stable assimilation. He carried many missions and always visited his friend's families. Then when he got tired of Plumber job, he retired.
He returned to Earth, a god in a man's suit, and retired. It was then he met my grandmother, Seraphina. She was an impossibility—an Anodite who had fascinated a passing Naljian, resulting in a union that birthed a being of mana and reality itself. She was fire and starlight, capable of warping the world with a thought, of stepping between dimensions as we step through doors. She was fascinated by the contained universe within Anos, the cosmic power bound by human will. Their love was a silent, earth-shattering event. From them, my mother, Lyra, was born. A bridge between cosmos and reality.
My mother inherited the best of both: her father's stable absorption and cosmic power, and her mother's limitless mana and dimensional awareness. She was a scholar of existence, and in a quiet bar at the end of time, she found a kindred spirit. He was a man who had been unmoored from time itself, a lonely watcher named Professor Paradox. Weary from eons of maintaining cosmic balance, he was drawn to her brilliance and her warmth. They spoke of temporal mechanics and dimensional layers, and one thing, as it often does, led to another.
I am Phanes Demiurgos, the result of that union. My father's chronokinetic genes intertwined with the already ludicrous power of my mother's bloodline. I was born with an innate understanding of space-time, a sense my parents had to carefully nurture lest I accidentally unravel my own timeline.
My first act of true, independent power was an instinctual one. Feeling constrained, I reached out and tore a hole in reality, landing in a universe not my own. I found myself at a nexus of life itself, a place where fundamental forces convened. It was not the Emotional Spectrum of ring-slingers, but something older, more primal: the Parliaments. The Green, the Red, the Grey, the Clear, the Divided, the Black, the White, the Melt. They were not "powers" to be taken, but languages of existence. My Osmosian nature, perfected by my grandfather's lineage, didn't just absorb them; it learned them. I became a living conduit for the core concepts of biology, element, and technology.
Now, my verse-jump ability is in a long cooldown. I've spent my life being tutored by a cosmic grandfather, a reality-warping grandmother, a genius mother, and a time-traveling father. I am a researcher, a scientist of the arcane and the cosmic. I have the power to be a god, but the reincarnated soul within me, the memories of a simpler life, yearns for connection. For a purpose beyond mere power.
My family, understanding this, suggested a semblance of normalcy. "Go to university," my mother said. "Observe, learn, and perhaps... find others like you." She was, of course, talking about the Tennysons.
And so, at sixteen, with the power to reshape worlds resting uneasily under my skin and the whispers of the Green and the Clear in my mind, I walked through the gates of Friedkin University. It was time to see how my story would intertwine with the heroes I once knew only from a screen.