Chapter 67 — The Hunt for the Writer of Reality
The cosmos trembled. Every realm, every law, every whisper of existence paused because Erevan moved.
He stepped from his realm, and the multiverse folded to make way. Each step tore through billions of worlds, not out of anger, but because his presence simply couldn't coexist with the fragile limits of creation anymore.
> "The Writer hides behind his pages," Erevan murmured, his voice echoing through timelines. "Let's see if he can write faster than I can erase."
A storm of divine paradox swirled behind him golden flames, black lightning, shards of forgotten realities. Erevan extended his hand, and a sigil of infinite complexity formed in the air his Cosmic Seal, the mark of those who transcend even omnipotence.
From the void, a being appeared cloaked in threads of ink and light, its form shifting like sentences being written and erased.
> "You seek the Writer," it said. "Few who try ever return."
Erevan's expression didn't change. His eyes glowed, galaxies spinning in his pupils.
> "Then I'll be the first to rewrite the ending."
The being attacked its strikes were made of pure concept, ideas that could destroy logic. Erevan let it hit him once. The attack erased his body from time for a heartbeat then he reappeared, stronger.
> "You don't understand," Erevan said. "When I'm broken… I evolve."
He unleashed Chrono-Void Ignition, a technique that fused his control of time and nothingness. The battlefield warped.
Seconds became eternities. Space folded into loops. Reality flickered like dying code.
With one motion, Erevan crushed the being's mask, revealing its true identity a fragment of the Writer's will.
> "He's watching me," Erevan whispered. "Good."
The fragment smiled even as it disintegrated.
> "Then you already know where to find him."
The moment it vanished, the sky above tore open a colossal quill descended, dripping ink that formed universes. From beyond the rift, a voice echoed calm, amused, and endless.
> "So the god who became a void dares to seek his author… Come then, Erevan. Let's see if your story can outlast my pen."
Erevan's aura surged, tearing through the quill's light. His armor shifted into its Final Aspect, pulsing with chaos and creation.
> "Writer," he said, eyes burning with infinity, "I'm not your character anymore… I'm your ending."
And with that, Erevan ascended through the rift into the domain of the Writer of Reality himself.