Drifting through the quiet remains of space, Striver slowly regained consciousness. His body felt heavy, and his spirit even heavier. The battle with Ultimate had ended—and not in their favor.
Only Layla floated nearby, her eyes closed, her breathing steady.
"We lost…" Striver whispered, holding his head as frustration pressed on his chest. He didn't understand why a being like Ultimate existed, or what drove him so far into darkness. Only one being could answer that—if he chose to.
He drifted closer to Layla, reaching out carefully to lift her, but the moment his fingers neared her shoulder, her eyes snapped open. She locked onto him instantly.
Striver panicked and snatched his hand back.
"Wait—wait, it's not what you think!" he stammered, taking a few steps back, hands raised.
"Oh? You weren't about to lift me and take me who-knows-where?" Layla asked, pushing herself upright as her balance returned.
That was exactly what he meant to do. Hearing it said aloud made him feel like he was about to kidnap a sleeping goddess. His laugh came out awkward and thin.
"Well… yes. But the way you said it makes me sound like some villain kidnapping you in your sleep," he said, forcing a weak smile.
Layla's expression stayed cold, but her voice—beautiful even when sharp—cut through him.
"I'm not some damsel in distress, Striver. Don't forget I dealt damage to him while you were unconscious."
She was right. Striver had no comeback. He was still learning to use his powers—same as her—but he had been overwhelmed again and again. The realization stung. He felt smaller than he wanted to admit.
Layla's gaze drifted outward. Striver followed it… and finally understood the full scope of what had happened.
The galaxy was gone.
Everything around them was empty—silent wounds where worlds once existed. Planets erased. Light extinguished. Life… completely gone.
Striver swallowed hard.
Some hero I am… he thought, replaying the pieces of the battle he could still remember.
As they stared into the ruined void, a voice rose around them—soft at first, almost human, but carrying a sorrow that shook the remnants of space.
"My creations… they have all been wiped out. Destroyed. Gone."
The Creator's voice trembled—not in anger, but in grief. The universe itself seemed to breathe with him, and the breath pushed Striver and Layla back through the empty air.
"Nonetheless," he continued, "death is not the end, but the beginning."
Layla and Striver exchanged confused looks. Striver spoke first.
"What do you mean? How can it be a beginning?"
The Creator's voice echoed from everywhere, majestic and gentle.
"All who pass through death stand before the gate to paradise. There, they may choose a new birth… or remain as spirits."
Layla absorbed the words, then asked quietly, "Creator… who is Ultimate? Yes, he destroys everything we fight to protect, but… during our battles, he felt human. Sometimes he hesitated. Sometimes he cried. It's like he's in pain."
Striver nodded slowly. He remembered the same moments—Ultimate's voice cracking, his eyes glowing like dying stars, speaking of a loss too deep to name.
The Creator sighed, and the universe dimmed with him.
"Ultimate was once a hero," he said. "The very first of all my creations. A human from the original Earth."
Striver and Layla leaned in, listening without blinking.
"It was a world of peace and wonder. Humans protected one another. They trusted one another. But as ages passed, I saw subtle changes… then terrible ones. The thirst for power grew. They harmed each other. Destroyed friendships. Their humanity."
His voice wavered, heavy with memory.
"Seeing my creations destroy one another wounded me. When I tried to intervene, my presence alone shattered the world. Reality could not withstand me."
He paused.
"I rebuilt it—recreated Earth, then filled the multiverse with new worlds. When I made humans again, I decided that when darkness rose, one among them would rise even higher."
A long silence. Then—
"That is how, after thousands of decades… Jason was born. The one you now know as Ultimate."