Aeon

And so it was. The very end.

All things will come to an end, as far as those immortal and mortal are concerned. Even the eternal face the abyss. And the Universe, must return to the lightless emptiness, that it began as. Not a star shone, not a sound.

But.

Who makes this Abyss? Who keeps it charged, watched? Who keeps the Grim Reaper in check? Those who might call themselves Gods, who makes sure their power is not as Absolute, as theirs?

Who or what is there, to see every universe unfold before their eyes. Every realm within the select universe. How many could there be? Is it even possible that there is an end? No one could truly know. No one could fathom how big something must be to contain all of that.

No one ever pays mind to the Master of the Unmastered. The Knower of Unknown. Lord of the Monarchless. So on and so forth. No one

truly knows, who it is. What it is. Many places have had many names, and many more universes made countless more for... It.

They had seen beginnings of the end. Ends of the beginning. Middlegrounds to the Tepid. The Grand Epoch of each universes lifespan, as he were reading pages in a book. One page to the next, looking at each universe unfold on a page, a blink of his eye and time would skip tremendously in his view.

Were you polite and knowledgable, or ambitious and powerful among those in your Universe, it would not be unlike them to invite you

into their home. The door, no matter which universe, no matter which time, has remained in the same place is always has. In the center.

Every Universe has a center, a starting point. It's always where the cosmic resonance of matter begins, or, the Big Bang, if you will. Always there, always in a different form. Perhaps a house one day, perhaps a Telephone box the next, or perhaps even a cavern on a stationary rock, alone in the dark expanse of space.

But - that is when the Aeon does not reach its end. When life is abundant, and thought is prevalent. We, however, come to the very end. The very end of the multiverse itself, not a star shining, not a thought, not a sound... It is as empty as it was, It was as empty as it is... All but one place, remains...

The Door.

Were you to enter the door, and find yourself in their home... you would find impossibility after unfathomability. The door, leading to a land, a dimensional land, impossibly flat, and impossibly jagged as the same impossible time. Towers of unfathomable heights, weights, geometry, and color to the Human eye and mind. Containing unfathomable amounts of books. Books, books, and more books.

These towers, were all libraries in their own right. Not one step within their expanse would you not be seeing a book. Neither would you be free of seeing a red illuminating torch on the walls. There would always be a book for a universe. One for the other. Not two for one. Not one for two. One for one. Each page containing pictures worth millions of words. A viewing into the selected universe itself. Thriving with life, every page. All of them.

Of course, no matter what page you flipped to, it would always show the same thing the other one did. Same viewing, same mirror into the universe, all the time. Only, at the very end of the Multiverse Aeon, no page, is ever in its book anymore. Neither, does any page, show anything but darkness. Allow me to explain.

Within the owners plane of existance, there would always be something prepared for the coming of the end. Strewn across the landscape of impossibility would be neatly lined up pages, from every book. Within the towers, every book would be without its pages. All pages, torn from the libraries. Every page pointed face up to the sky within the owners dimension of reality. Every page showing the same thing. Darkness. No light from the long gone stars, no planets left behind. Nothing remained within.

Within the very center of this dimension, there would be a different colored tower from the other unpercievably colored ones.

Different, none the less. the pages would all spiral from the edges of the dimension into this tower. The owners tower. This being no one paid mind to.

Who makes this Abyss? Who keeps it charged, watched? Who keeps the Grim Reaper in check? Those who might call themselves Gods, who makes sure their power is not as Absolute, as theirs?

No one ever pays mind to the Master of the Unmastered. The Knower of Unknown. Lord of the Monarchless. So on and so forth. No one truly knows, who it is. What it is. Many places have had many names for them, and many more universes made countless more for... It.

The Forbidden called them... Kurtis.

Within his tower, the sounds of footsteps, and laying down pages of reality echoed. As well, did the mans soft humming. Neatly lined up, these pages were. Continuing their neat and tidy spiral from the outer edges.

"Why do we talk to ourselves, when theres nothing ever there... hm?" His voice asked aloud, the final page being laid down.

"...There, all done..." a brush of the hands were made, as his eyes glanced over towards...

A yellow egg. Something illuminating from within, a glowing pulse of the egg, for each heartbeat. "Well, I suppose that answers my question... for there is always something there, isn't there... little fellow." His hand picked up the egg, a faint smile given from the man as his wisened eyes looked over the egg. He began to do a small pace around, looking over each page within his tower, as if building on a decision.

"Truth be told... I'm only a tiny bit anxious at who will be looking over this little old place once I've passed little fellow... I'm atleast hopeful they'll be as nurturing as I was over this long, loooong aeon with you. You certainly enjoy making me uncomfortable every time, little fellow... That was a grand amount of multiversial energies I absorbed..."

His eyes were set onto one particular page. "Mmm... that looks decent enough." He'd state, the color of his skin slowly becoming... darkened. His eyes illuminated with green, contrasting with the illumination of red from the torches, and the yellow from the egg.

He set the egg down on top of the page, he taking a step back to the center of his home, his smile sustained as the egg slowly began to sink into the page. It was delivered into the darkness of the universe. Infact, the whole of the multiverse. All of a sudden, with the eggs existance, each page across the layed out spiral; across the entirety of his dimension; lit up with yellow as one egg per universe would materialize. An unfathomable thing, once again. Though Kurtis would not bat an eye. He turned away as he brought his hands up to his brown sable fedora, taking it off as he'd hum softly to himself, he inspecting the hat.

One last time.

He set the hat down, the color of his arms having darkened moreso than last mentioned. The whites of his eyes following in suit. "Like I said..." he outstretched his arms, a faint shaking occuring around him. "...Who will I leave to take care, of this little place..." and with that... the End, had began.

Powerful, green energy thundered out from Kurtis, the shaking of his dimension having grown exponentially. Every torch illuminating the libraries, changed their hue of red to green, following suit. The skies above churned with blackened purples, and malefic greens. Thunder cracked, a vast outburst of energy sounded across the multiverse.

Flames of green spiraled out from Kurtis as his body was malforming, The spiral following aligned atop every single multiversial page. He continued shifting... changing... A metamorphosis of all the evil he encountered from the multiverse he observed, and absorbed.

No mortal or immortal, would have survived the Aeons end. No one except for him. Every end to the Aeon, meant a new one must start... and what better way to start it with...

Than a bang.

With the crack of thunder sounding across reality; The Eggs delivered to the Multiverse opened with colossal power, as the flames of malformation touched the pages.

An explosion of power occured, Mineral-like shells from the egg drifting into the darkness. The planets were formed.

Energy motes of light from its aura of pure energy, remnants drifting into the great beyond. The stars had shone.

Inner biomatter and gasses of the egg cascaded itself across the expanse of space. Life would begin shortly.

As the fire continued to spread in its spiral across the pages, cracks of green thunder would appear within the universal timelines.

Priests might make religion from seeing it. Creatures might utilize it. Demons might suffer from it, much like how one Demon the previous time this had occured, would be flung from the mortal realm, and into a realm of discord...

Chaos if you will.

Molded to be its master.

Every timeline would be affected in some way or form with this powerful ending. People may unite. People may fight.

People may die. People may live. People may rise. People may fall. None could truly know, except for the Knower of the Unknown... speaking of.

Within Kurtis' Tower, his metamorphosis continued. With shrieks of agony and inner rage thundering from Kurtis, his shoulders developed spikes, and leathery, flesh-like pauldrons. His arms, legs, and torso, formed their own leather-like fleshformed armaments. The green cascade of power shining against him, a silhouette only showing the changes to physical appearance... as well, as not one figure beginning to form... but two.

One figure, bearing spikes, armaments made of flesh, and hair shifting into a draped hood, roaring in agony. The other, splitting from the malformation: A slim, and featureless figure, rounded head. They would be flung from the torrent of power in the epicenter of energies magnitude. Their skin as white as snow.

After much agonizing metamorphosis, from the powerful energy, emerged he. The be all of end all. Twisted Darkness incarnate.

The Dimension Emperor Sceptruis, would be born.

And from the tower, every page singed with flame, would leave no mark. No trace of the long passed flames of disharmony. They returned to their books, on their own, setting themselves back where they belonged.

Sceptruis looked down towards the featureless being, and then without a second thought, paid no mind to it. It was not his current target. He made his way to the exit, and absconded from the pocket reality.

Emerging from the egg across the Multiverse, would be a winged beast. A demon. Precursor to all demon kind. Horns sharp. Wings bladed. Claws... dark, and edged.

The featureless figure, over time, would take charge of where Kurtis left off. There was no Kurtis anymore, not that there ever was.

As they watched and observed the multiverse, they would gain their own appearance for their own. It could be a creature of thorns and petals. Or perhaps a golem of arcane mystery.

Or maybe a man in a brown hat.

Who makes this Abyss? Who keeps it charged, watched? Who keeps the Grim Reaper in check? Those who might call themselves Gods, who makes sure their power is not as Absolute, as theirs?

No one ever pays mind to the Master of the Unmastered. The Knower of Unknown. Lord of the Monarchless. So on and so forth. No one

truly knows, who it is. What it is. Many places have had many names for them, and many more universes made countless more for... It.

And with that... the beginning, had ended.

As it always did. Every Aeon.