Chapter 60 — "The Birth of the Boundless Empire"
The white void was silent.
The corpse of creation floated in endless stillness, its fragments glowing faintly like the ashes of fallen stars.
And from that silence… a heartbeat echoed.
Erevan's.
He stood alone, his body burning with an infinite spectrum of light and darkness. His presence no longer fit inside a universe it defined one. The golden and black lightning around him rippled through the empty nothingness, birthing galaxies with every spark.
Before him floated the empty Book of Everything the artifact that once bound all creation under the Author's control.
Now, it was his.
Erevan looked at it, his eyes twin horizons of existence.
Then he spoke softly, yet his voice shook eternity.
> "I am no longer a creation… I am the creator."
He raised his hand and the pen appeared, blazing brighter than any star.
When he wrote the first word, light itself kneeled.
"Exist."
From that single command, a new multiverse exploded outward infinite realms blooming like celestial flowers.
Each universe pulsed with energy born from his essence cosmic storms of fire and shadow, realms where mortals could ascend, where gods could die, where destiny no longer ruled.
He named it:
The Boundless Empire.
And its throne… was everywhere.
Erevan floated at its heart, above a colossal citadel made of starlight and black flame. His armor evolved divine tech interwoven with pure idea, runes of origin spiraling across his chestplate. His cape stretched into infinity, a mantle of creation itself.
But peace never lasted.
From the horizon of nonexistence, shadows began to stir remnants of the old Author's will, corrupted echoes of creation, false gods who refused to vanish.
Erevan smirked.
> "So even nothingness dares to challenge me?"
He descended his aura shaking universes as he walked.
Every step spawned supernovas, every blink warped the laws of physics.
Before him, three titans of void-energy rose, each claiming dominion over forgotten realms.
> "We are the last gods," one hissed. "You are just a rebel with stolen power."
Erevan raised a finger and the cosmos went still.
> "You are fragments of a broken sentence."
The next instant reality erased them.
Not destroyed. Not killed. Unwritten.
The Boundless Emperor had no equals now.
He stood upon his newly forged world, surrounded by infinite stars and his voice carried across existence:
> "To every realm, every soul, every god that remains… kneel. Or be rewritten."
And across eternity they did.
Because there was no longer a god.
There was only Erevan.
The man who defied his maker and became infinity itself.