In the cold stretch of space, where light itself dared not linger, a dying star flickered its final breaths.
Once a glorious sun that birthed worlds, now it gasped, its surface peeling away in molten waves. The universe around it shivered, for even a dying star held enough grief to make galaxies weep.
There, amidst the fading light, hovered a lone figure.
His form was tall, defined by an otherworldly calm — a calm that could silence storms. He gazed at the trembling star as one might look upon an old, dying friend. His eyes reflected no pity, no compassion, only endless purpose.
Xekron.
The Entity who captured the Guardian and who wants to get his hands on this Universe.
He floated without sound, his silver hair unmoved by the star's raging heat. In his palm lay a tiny crystalline sphere — the Sphere of Golsen. Within it flickered a faint light, like a heartbeat caged in glass.
He whispered, his voice a low tremor. "Even though I couldn't get what I wanted, this star… is enough for my ascension."
The dying sun wailed faintly, as if hearing him. Its energy rippled outward, cutting through time and dust alike.
Xekron tilted his head, curiosity glinting in those hollow eyes. "But who," he murmured, "could have taken the Core? Even the Guardian didn't possess it."
He paused, lips curling faintly. "Oh well… I won't need it anymore."
He raised his right hand.
The air— no, the fabric of space — obeyed.
"Come here."
At those two words, the star convulsed. Its light bent space itself, sending quakes through distant constellations. Planets shattered under the rippling command.
Yet Xekron did not move. He watched, still and unblinking, as molten waves folded into themselves, condensing into a single orb of blinding radiance.
The Core of the dying star emerged — a sphere of pure molten essence, glowing white-hot, enough to melt entire solar systems with a whisper.
Xekron reached out. The Core rested in his palm as though it had been waiting for him. The heat vanished the moment he touched it, as if even fire itself bowed to his will.
His smile widened. "Finally… I can fuse with this. My existential tier will rise. I will break free of the lower chains."
He lifted the Core and pressed it to his chest.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then —
The sphere sank into his form like water rippling around stone.
Xekron's eyes flared. His entire being trembled. Inside his chest, the Core melted into his heart — an ethereal organ made not of flesh, but shimmering light. It pulsed violently, sending waves of energy that twisted the nearby void into ribbons.
Then came the pain.
It was the kind of agony that didn't belong to flesh — the kind that tore at the essence, the soul, the very concept of being.
He clenched his jaw, silent screams echoing through every atom of him.
"Ahhh… KUH!" He shuddered, trembling violently. "This… this much energy, even from a dying star?!"
He refused to scream aloud. His pride wouldn't allow weakness.
But his form began to melt — dissolving into mercury-like liquid, rippling and reshaping, twisting into something beyond human comprehension.
Existence itself seemed to reject him.
Planets flickered out in distant corners of the cosmos. Stars dimmed. The very structure of reality groaned as Xekron's transformation broke through unseen walls.
The Existencial Tier level is everything in All plane of Existence as this is the very Law in itself — Strong is always right.
These Tiers are as follows— Tier 1, Tier 2, Tier 3, Tier 4.....and so on, no one knows where the Tier number ends.
How could they? They couldn't or didn't even see any being of that level right? And even if they had seen..Would they be alive to tell anyone?
Anyways, Xekron was in the process of evolving, He was a Tier 7 being and he would be a Tier 8 soon where Every being takes their first step in not just his Plane of existence but All the other Planes as well.
Xekron was ascending.
Rising beyond the limitations of this universe's law — reaching for the forbidden tiers of existence.
There were whispers across creation — beings ancient and hidden, their forms unseen. They stirred as the shockwaves of power rippled through them.
"Who is it?" one asked.
"Who dares?" another breathed.
None of them could comprehend it — someone had surpassed the restriction of their universe. The unbreakable ceiling had cracked.
The liquid form that was Xekron quivered, then condensed, folding light and matter until the universe screamed. And then—
A blinding pulse erupted.
Every star blinked. Every void creature froze.
The entire universe bowed, even if it didn't understand why.
When the light faded, Xekron hovered once again — but changed.
Gone was the ancient monstrous form.
In its place stood something almost divine.
He was luminous — his entire being coated in radiant white energy. No face, no markings, no fabric. Only shape. His eyes existed as faint outlines, glowing faintly in the emptiness of his form. Ethereal tendrils drifted from his body like whispers of light.
He raised a hand, watching the glow ripple across his fingers. "Hmm…" His voice was soft, calm — almost human. "Now I understand… why those above me crave more. They know what it means to climb higher."
A faint smile crossed his formless lips.
"I was really a fool."
He saw everything then — not just the present, but echoes of the past and glimpses of forgotten futures. Memories of the dying star seeped into his consciousness.
He saw civilizations long turned to dust.
He saw wars that tore galaxies apart.
He saw invaders — beings who once called themselves gods — fall into silence before the eternal passage of time.
And then he saw it — a figure of impossible power, standing against eternity itself. A Tier 10 being, unmatched and absolute. Xekron's mind shuddered under the memory.
That being had once entered this universe. But then… its presence vanished. Not destroyed, not sealed — simply erased.
Now, standing before the corpse of that same star, Xekron frowned.
"That Tier 10 being didn't leave," he muttered. "So how did his presence fade away?" His fingers flexed, tension crackling in the void. "Is someone… stronger than him here?"
The question lingered — heavy, poisonous.
Then—
A hand touched his shoulder.
It was soft.
Quiet.
Effortless.
Xekron's eyes widened — he hadn't sensed a thing. The void rippled slightly at the touch, like a mirror disturbed by a pebble.
He turned, but there was no one. Only stars and silence. The hand was gone.
He narrowed his eyes. "Hmm… quite the gut someone has, touching me unannounced." His voice deepened, low and dangerous. "Why don't you show yourself? Spy."
Nothing.
Only the echo of his words returned to him.
Then — the hand again.
On his shoulder.
He felt it this time.
Cold. Steady. Familiar.
His instincts screamed. He teleported instantly, vanishing into a blur of white light, reappearing several light-years away. His eyes darted, scanning the darkness.
"I couldn't sense it…?" he muttered. "Is he using an Artifact?"
The voice came — calm, almost playful.
"No. I don't use artifacts."
The hand returned — resting gently, almost mockingly, on his shoulder again.
Xekron froze. His mind stopped. That voice… it carried no hostility, no malice. Just casual finality — like a storm commenting on the fragility of leaves.
"Those things," the voice continued softly, "don't suit my style."
Xekron's eyes widened as the figure slowly materialized before him — or rather, the presence took shape.
A man.
Black hair slightly tousled, calm eyes that glowed faintly under the light of distant stars. He stood there effortlessly, as if gravity, space, and even energy had no authority over him.
He wasn't emitting power.
He was power.
But Xekron didn't recognize him — not immediately.
He took a cautious step back, his voice low. "Who are you? And why… are you standing in my way?"
The man's expression didn't change. He stared for a few seconds, then —
He laughed.
A quiet chuckle at first, then growing into genuine amusement.
"Pfft—" He bent slightly, one hand on his stomach, shaking with laughter. "Hahahaha… wait, wait—hahahahaha!" His voice echoed through space, warm but carrying the faintest tremor of sorrow beneath it.
Xekron's brows furrowed. "What's so funny?"
The man finally straightened, still smiling faintly. "You want to know who I am?"
The calm in his tone made the void itself listen.
He stepped closer, the faint sound of his boots echoing even though there was no ground beneath them. "Maybe a story will remind you," he said softly. "A million years ago… you chased a woman across universes."
Xekron's eyes narrowed.
The air grew heavier.
"You wanted something she had," the man continued, voice low. "An anomaly. A child. You tried to hunt her down for it… and you even made her Wanted all across the Universes.."
Something in Xekron's chest tightened. His memory — old, buried beneath endless years — stirred.
A woman screaming.
A dying world.
A child's cry.
His pupils shrank. "You—"
The man smiled, serene and sorrowful.
"Does it ring any bell, Xekron… the Casted One?"
The silence that followed was suffocating. Even the stars seemed to pause.
Xekron's lips trembled. "You… you're her son?!"
The man nodded once. "Yes." His tone softened, almost polite. "And please—don't complain about the late introduction."
He smiled faintly — the kind of smile that could warm hearts and freeze time.
"My name is Michael Uraser," he said, his voice echoing softly across the empty universe. "A normal human being."
He tilted his head slightly, eyes closing for just a second — and when they opened again, the light within them wasn't mortal.
It was the kind of light that belonged only to endings.
He whispered, almost playfully,
"Let's talk."
And then — he vanished.
Xekron's breath caught. His instincts screamed. He teleported again, further this time — galaxies away — but when he turned, Michael was there.
Standing in the same place. Same posture. Same faint smile.
The void trembled. The dying star, long gone, reignited for a brief second — not from heat, but from fear.
Xekron's hand shook. He could no longer tell if it was anger or dread.
For the first time in eons, the Ascended One felt small.
Michael raised his head slightly, the faint echo of music playing through his headphones — soft, nostalgic, almost melancholic.
He whispered, not as a threat, but as a truth.
"Now then… shall we finish what my mother started?"
The void around them fractured. Stars shattered into motes of dust.
Light ceased.
Time folded.
And in that silent, eternal instant — power and sorrow intertwined, shaping the calmest, most terrifying smile the universe had ever seen.
The smile of Michael Uraser.
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To Be Continued....
Author's Note: The Next one is gonna be an Epic Chapter where Real Action begins...So wait for it...And please Support this Novel everyone