The multiverse trembled.
Time itself had become a broken mirror — shards of existence drifting aimlessly, colliding, and disappearing into nothing. Planets hung like shattered gemstones in an endless void, some glowing faintly, others already extinguished. The remnants of the nuclear chaos planet were gone, leaving only echoes of molten rivers and fractured landscapes.
Stojian stood on a cliff of jagged reality, the ground beneath him bending slightly with each heartbeat of his void power. A dark hoodie cloaked him, shadows stretching over his face, and his eyes — faintly glowing green — pierced the collapsing universe.
He exhaled slowly.
The power within him pulsed like a heartbeat from beyond the cosmos — the Void itself answering his presence. Every flicker of energy, every ripple of warped reality bent slightly around him, reluctant to defy his command.
And then he saw it.
A presence beyond comprehension.
Arkham Asylum.
The Vessel of the Void hovered above the remnants of the multiverse, crystalline shards spinning slowly in silence — 400 meters of impossibility. No sound came from it, and yet the universe itself screamed under its weight. Stars dimmed in its shadow, and time hesitated mid-step.
Stojian clenched his fists. His void aura flared violently, scattering fragments of reality around him.
"So... this is what remains," he muttered, his voice echoing unnaturally through the void.
He raised one hand. Black energy spiraled from his palm, twisting into sharp tendrils, coiling like serpents around his body. This was the power of the Conceptual Nexus — the Void incarnate — his heritage and his weapon.
Arkham moved. Not with speed, not with brute force, but with inevitability. Each crystalline shard shifted, and an entire galaxy seemed to blink out in its wake.
Stojian's heart raced.
I can't fight it like I fought before, he whispered internally.
And yet, he did not step back.
He channeled the void within, reshaping the fragment of universe beneath his feet. Reality bent, twisted into his will — walls, floors, gravity — all part of him now.
"If existence itself obeys him, then I'll bend it first," he said.
With a roar that wasn't human, Stojian surged forward. Shadows stretched from him, merging into the void, carrying him across the jagged remnants of shattered worlds. His two blades — one forged from void energy, the other the leftover fragment of a broken reality — gleamed as he prepared to challenge impossibility itself.
Arkham remained silent. The calm before absolute inevitability.
"Let's see if the Void can touch the untouchable," Stojian murmured.
And the multiverse held its breath.