The air was still. Mirshad lay unconscious in the corner of the Tribunal's sacred chamber — his breathing slow, his body glowing faintly with a light no magic could touch. No one dared to speak. The room, once filled with rulers, kings, tyrants, and sorcerers… now sat in complete silence.
Until the book began to glow.
That same ancient, sealed book — the one the Tribunal never opened.
It opened itself.
Not with a creak… but with a whisper that rattled their souls.
Words didn't appear on the page.
They appeared in their minds.
A voice older than time… older than gods… spoke into them, not with sound, but truth.
"You ask why the Soul Slayer failed to consume you…"
"You ask why his hand couldn't touch your soul…"
"Because the one who lies in that corner… is not just power."
"He is the memory of the Source."
"And even forgotten… the Source protects all."
The Tribunal members looked around. Some cried. Some trembled. None understood fully — but their hearts did.
"You call him Mirshad."
"But that name… is not a name."
"It is a title."
"A code burned into the fabric of the multiverse."
"It stands for the one who first Moved Reality's Design."
"Before time could walk…"
"Before stars could breathe…"
"He existed."
"The Soul Slayer was not a demon when he was created."
"He was a balance… a shadow meant to walk behind the light."
"But when the Source disappeared…"
"The shadow lost its master."
"And without light… the shadow became a hole."
"A hole that now feeds on life."
The book began to tremble.
All torches went out. The room faded into darkness.
A burning line appeared in the air, written in celestial flame:
"You fear his awakening…"
"Because you know what comes with it."
Suddenly — they all saw it.
A vision not of the past, not of the present…
But of the future.
Planets torn apart. Realities bleeding. Galaxies collapsing.
And in the center…
Mirshad — his body glowing like a billion stars, screaming through dimensions, erasing not enemies — but entire timelines.
"If he awakens before his heart is fully formed…"
"He will not save you."
"He will forget you."
"Because memory, when returned to a god, does not bring peace."
"It brings judgment."
The book closed slowly.
And on the final open page… one last sentence burned into view:
"Protect his mind." "Delay his awakening." "Or lose everything you've ever loved."
And just like that — silence returned.
The ancient voice faded.
But its truth… did not.
Because now, they knew —
The Creator isn't sleeping.
He's holding himself back.
And the moment he remembers who he is…
The story ends.