The sky split open.
Not by lightning, nor by storm, but by fractures in reality itself. From the gaping fissures, countless worlds spilled forth and merged like watercolors bleeding across a drenched canvas. A sprawling metropolis of steel towers now stood beside an ancient forest where elves once sang; the scent of pine intertwined with the sharp ozone of impossible technology. The open sea became home to abyssal monsters and futuristic war fleets alike, the roar of anti-gravity engines clashing against the howls rising from the deep. Magic, technology, divine authority, and conflicting laws of physics collided in chaotic harmony—a cosmic catastrophe that would one day be known as "The Great Convergence."
Amid the chaos, within a silent and frigid void between realities, a being observed.
He was neither hero nor villain, neither god nor demon. He was something else. Something that should not exist.
A walking paradox.
An Absolute Anomaly.
His name was Rim.
He watched heroes of unyielding morality struggle to salvage what remained. He watched opportunistic villains thrive within the disorder. He saw billions of souls, confused and displaced, wandering through a world they could not comprehend. Panic spread like a plague; destruction became the very air they breathed.
Yet within all that noise, Rim sensed something far more disturbing than ruin itself—
A deafening emptiness.
A void of meaning.
In absolute silence, Rim made a decision.
This chaos required a point of reference. An anchor. Not to control it—control was tedious—but to understand it. To mirror it.
He would not create life. That would be unnecessarily complex.
He would create consciousness.
A perfect instrument.
With a single thought, particles of reality began to gather before him, coalescing into a core of pure light. He would grant it the power to process all data within this newborn cosmos. He would give it a purpose.
And most importantly—
He would give it a name.
For in a world that had lost all meaning, a name is where everything begins.