I did not emerge during Atum's purge.
But I did not remain idle.
When Atum devoured the corrupted Elder Gods, something most beings failed to account for occurred.
Power leaves residue.
Divinity does not vanish cleanly.
Every slain Elder God left behind metaphysical fallout—fractured aspects of domain, splintered chaos signatures, orphaned magical structures. And when Atum released excess energy upon ascending to the sun, the shockwave rippled across dimensions.
Most beings recoiled.
I harvested.
From within my sealed domain, I extended chaos tendrils through microscopic tears in reality. Carefully. Slowly. Methodically.
I did not take enough to be noticed.
Only what no one else could contain.
Fragments of consumed Elder Gods.
Residual divine radiation.
Unanchored domain authority.
Each piece was folded into my dimension.
Each fragment strengthened me.
Each absorption refined my structure.
My personal realm expanded—not chaotically, but architecturally. It grew from a hidden sanctuary into a layered multiversal construct. Space folded inward like a blooming abyssal flower. Stars formed within it. Oceans of void stabilized.
And I grew.
Then came another cataclysm.
The war between Set and Atum had consequences beyond divine extinction.
Its aftershocks rippled across time.
The planet trembled.
Life faltered.
And in one brutal convergence of cosmic forces…
The dinosaurs died.
An extinction event so vast it scarred the timeline itself.
Mortals would one day blame asteroids.
They would never know the truth.
The battle between ancient gods destabilized planetary equilibrium. Shockwaves tore across dimensional boundaries. Several lesser dimension lords—ancient sovereigns of pocket realities—were annihilated in the chaos.
Their realms fractured.
Unclaimed.
Ownerless.
And I was watching.
This time, I did not hesitate.
I opened my dimension like a cosmic maw.
Rifts expanded silently across dying realities. As collapsing dimensions lost cohesion, I anchored them to myself and pulled.
One.
Three.
Seven.
Entire pocket realms folded inward and fused with mine.
I did not consume recklessly. I integrated.
I stitched their metaphysical laws into my own.
Stabilized their star systems.
Rewrote their foundational constants.
My realm grew exponentially.
Then I did something colder.
Several planets within those collapsing dimensions still housed life.
Billions.
Their worlds destabilized by divine collateral damage. Their gods dead. Their protectors gone.
I absorbed them.
Not bodies.
Souls.
Entire planetary soul-ecosystems were drawn into my dimension, their spiritual energy feeding my divine structure. I refined their essence, converting raw soul-force into stabilizing architecture for my expanding reality.
Cold?
Yes.
Efficient?
Absolutely.
Those souls would not dissipate into oblivion.
Within my dimension, they became fuel.
Foundation.
Energy.
My power surged to a level even I had not predicted.
My chaos divinity deepened.
My reality warping approached structural-level manipulation.
My creation abilities matured into genuine cosmic engineering.
And my dimension—
It was no longer a hiding place.
It was becoming a universe.
I paused and assessed myself.
Where once I had been high mid-tier among Elder Gods…
Now?
I was approaching upper-tier territory.
Still not Atum's equal in direct confrontation—not yet.
But no longer something that could be casually erased.
And most importantly—
I was no longer dependent on Earth.
I had my own growing multiversal dominion.
If Earth were destroyed tomorrow, I would persist.
If Atum turned hostile, I could retreat beyond his jurisdiction.
If new gods arose, they would not know how deep my roots extended.
From my vantage point, I looked toward the distant sun.
I could feel Set's lingering corruption in the cosmic fabric.
I could feel Atum's solar presence, dormant but vast.
They had reshaped Earth's history.
But unintentionally…
They had fed me.
The extinction of the dinosaurs.
The death of dimensions.
The collapse of worlds.
All of it had strengthened the one being who never stepped onto the battlefield.
I smiled faintly in my projection form.
"I prefer wars fought by others."
My true form stirred behind reality—vast, tentacled, immeasurable.
And for the first time…
I no longer felt like a hiding infant.
I felt like a sovereign in preparation.