Power doesn't fear strength.
It fears replacement.
The Ones Who Couldn't Accept It
Not everyone in the ancient world believed what they had seen.
Many pretended to.
Some panicked quietly.
And a few—the most dangerous few—decided Aarav Verma had to die.
They weren't fools.They didn't challenge him openly.
They chose the oldest tactic in existence.
Erasure.
A Plan Born of Pride
In a sealed realm outside normal space, seven figures gathered.
Each was a peak existence.
Not sect leaders.
Not public legends.
They were the kind of beings whose names were erased from records because they were too effective.
— One controlled fate threads.— One specialized in soul corrosion.— One existed half out of time.— One had assassinated gods during their ascension.
Their leader spoke without emotion.
"We don't need to defeat him."
"We need to make him… never have existed."
A ripple of approval passed through the darkness.
They had the perfect weapon.
Not power.
Causality destruction.
The Night the System Stayed Silent
In the Foundational Academy, something strange happened.
The Infinite Comprehension System…did not warn Aarav.
No alerts.No danger prompts.No imbalance signals.
Meera frowned that night.
"…Do you feel that?"
Aarav paused mid-sentence.
"…Yes."
"What is it?"
He thought for a moment.
"…Missing data."
For the first time—
His system wasn't slow.
It was blind.
The Strike Beyond Time
The attack didn't come as a blade.
Or poison.
Or curse.
It came as absence.
Reality around Aarav skipped.
Not shattered.
Skipped.
One second, he stood beneath the academy's sky.
The next—
He stood nowhere.
No stars.No void.No time.
Just unrecorded existence.
The assassins watched from beyond causality.
"It worked," one whispered.
"The system can't comprehend what never exists."
Another laughed softly.
"Delete him."
They began the final sequence.
Why They Failed
What they didn't understand—
What no one had ever understood—
Was that Aarav Verma no longer existed as a point.
He existed as a process.
Inside the nothingness, something breathed.
Not air.
Meaning.
A voice—not mechanical, not divine—spoke.
[COMPREHENSION CONTINUES.]
Aarav opened his eyes.
But there were no eyes to open.
He wasn't standing.
He was thinking reality into coherence.
"…So this is deletion," he murmured.
The Equilibrium Seal ignited.
Not outward.
Inward.
[ERROR DETECTED][Target classified as NON-LOCAL EXISTENCE][Correction Authority: VERIFIED]
The assassins froze.
"That's impossible—!"
Aarav returned.
Not explosively.
Not dramatically.
He returned already standing behind them.
In the sealed realm.
In real space.
In causality.
All at once.
The Correction Without Combat
Seven peak assassins turned.
None attacked.
Every instinct they had was screaming the same thing:
Run.
Aarav looked at them calmly.
"No anger," he said."No vengeance."
They trembled.
"This," he continued,"is why balance doesn't trust extremes."
He raised his hand.
No technique.
No art.
Just authority.
Their abilities collapsed.
Not sealed.
Unlearned.
Paths they had walked for tens of thousands of years unraveled like myths.
One fell screaming—not from pain—
—but from the horror of remembering being ordinary.
Another laughed hysterically as time released his grip.
The leader fell to his knees.
"You… what are you?"
Aarav answered honestly.
"A correction that learned to answer back."
The Punishment Worse Than Death
He didn't kill them.
He didn't erase them.
He did something far more terrifying.
He returned them.
To random places.
As ordinary people.
No memory of cultivation.
No authority.
No destiny.
Their existence would continue—
But never again matter cosmically.
[Judgment Complete][Threat permanently resolved]
After — A Quiet Fracture
Aarav returned to the academy grounds.
The stars looked normal again.
Meera ran to him instantly.
"You vanished," she whispered."For three heartbeats… I couldn't feel you."
Aarav smiled softly.
"I know."
"…Are you alright?"
He hesitated.
Just slightly.
"Yes," he said.
The system pulsed quietly.
[New State Registered: Non-Local Comprehension]
But for the first time since everything began—
When Aarav looked at the world—
He didn't feel curiosity.
He felt distance.
Far away—
In heavens unknown—
Something older than systems shifted uncomfortably.
Because the question had changed.
It was no longer:
"How strong is he?"
It was now:
"How do you remove someone who learns faster than reality itself?"