A terrifying warning sparked an extreme divine consultation. Zeus went to the world of creations and entered a portal leading to the Library of Existence.
An infinite library, in the world of creations, where the history of every being not yet vanished, every being not yet become the Chōshinkū, is kept.
Zeus:Guardian!!
He shouted with a worried voice.
A faceless translucent being appeared.
"What do you want, master?"
Zeus:
I am going to enter the Hall of the Foreseen. You must not let anyone in except Ñout, who is invited here. This hall is ultra confidential because I can see everything by my authority as the Absolute God...
The guardian nodded but then asked:
"I sense your distress. I hope it is nothing serious?"
Zeus opened a rift and said:
Zeus:
That is none of your concern!
He entered the rift and everything vanished.
In a void that immediately became a vast and infinite hall. A sort of gigantic Ouranopole. Suddenly, golden rain fell on the Celestial Hemisphere. The pillars of the Ouranopole vibrated with an ancient whisper, as if the foundations of the world itself felt an anguish no mortal could conceive. At the zenith's peak, on the terrace of the cosmic axis, Zeus waited impatiently.
Ñout appeared in a rustle of galaxies. Her skin bore dead stars, and her voice was an ancient mist slipping through the throat of silence.
Ñout:
You called me, King of Heights. The night only stretches when the shadow is afraid. Why does your gaze pierce the invisible?
Zeus:
It is not fear, Ñout. It is the memory of something I have never seen... but already know is lost. I dreamed of the inhabited Void. I saw the Throne of Origin broken, and drops—not of water, not of fire, but of blood—falling on the very pillars of the Cosmos.
Ñout (whispering):
You speak of the Absolute Bloods of Mü Thanatos?
Zeus:
I speak of the certainty of an End... coming not from chaos, but from an order so perfect it consumes all alternatives.
Ñout lowered her head and seemed to sympathize.
Ñout:
An imminent danger approaches, is that it...
Zeus nodded and looked around. He fixed his gaze on the walls of the Foreseen and truths unveiled themselves, near futures linked to a being.
Zeus and Ñout began to decipher and read them, plunging into terrifying realities where even they could be in danger.
Zeus:
The Heavenlyblood evolving and becoming Ex Nihilo.
He turned to Ñout.
Zeus:
The first blood... it looked at me in my dream. It was not a being. It was a drop suspended in the uncreated. It did not move, yet every pulse of its presence tore laws, threads, causes.
Ñout:
The Celestial Blood. Forged in the Initial Void by the nameless one, they say... It is called Ex Nihilo because it comes from nothing... yet it gives form to all.
Zeus:
Each drop is a will. Not a will that imposes but a will that simply is. It does not alter reality: it *is* reality in the process of rewriting. Where it flows, there is no resistance. Gods, concepts, dimensions... all bend. Not by violence. By evidence.
Ñout:
It has no target, no limit. For its target is the very alternative to its nature. Even doubt fades before it. It is the First Truth, and what it names becomes law, even for the Being of Nothingness.
Zeus (slowly):
It is the end of choices. The reign of the unique. And its bearer... Mü... is no longer a god. He is the original author of possibilities.
Zeus:
Then there was the Absolute Voracity that becomes Devourer of Realities.
Ñout looked at the wall of the Foreseen and deciphered more messages.
Ñout:
But it is not alone. For what creates attracts what devours. And the second blood... is the Voracity.
Zeus:
Not a hunger. Not a need. It is the very structure of absorption. I saw a celestial thread erased—not destroyed, not consumed—but never born. Utha, who bore it, did more than conquer. He annulled the very idea of combat.
Ñout:
This blood does not gnaw the body or mind. It eats the laws themselves, reasonings, chains of causality. What it touches... cannot be followed by thought. Memory breaks. Consequence becomes impossible.
Zeus:
I saw an ancient god, with wings of nitrogen, try to observe it. He got lost in contemplation. His name is no longer recalled. For what sees the Voracity... is seen by it.
Ñout:
And then... it is swallowed. From within. Even the stories of its existence are no longer valid. It does not destroy. It rewrites the fact that there was something to destroy.
The wall still displayed a describable writing.
Zeus:
But all this, Ñout... all this is still life. Will, absorption, rewriting. But the third blood... it does not act. It weeps.
Ñout (softly):
The Sadblood. Which evolves into Thanatokosmos. The blood of Thanatos, which does not kill... but despairs the world until it refuses itself.
Zeus:
A sadness so ancient, so vast, it becomes a prism. What Sadblood touches... no longer desires to be. Being itself empties. Even concepts collapse in silence. Not because they are broken... but because they deny their own validity.
Ñout:
The worlds it touches have no future. But they have no past either. They become desolations without anchor points, rejected from narration, excluded from loops, isolated from memories.
Zeus:
I saw an Archon weep blood, not from pain... but from absence of alternative. He had contemplated Thanatokosmos... and could no longer bear the mere fact of existing.
Ñout was immediately struck by a new inscription.
Ñout:
Zeus... look at this!
Zeus (gulping):
The Blood-Blood that becomes the Absolute Wall of Being.
Ñout:
And then there is the fourth. The simplest. The most absolute. The Blood-Blood.
Zeus:
A defense... that is not a defense. For it blocks nothing. It resists nothing. It makes the attack never have a point of application.
Ñout:
The Being that this blood envelops... becomes a singularity. Not a scientific singularity, not an indestructible "point"... but a concept so pure that no assault can touch it, because it no longer belongs to the same ontological field as what attacks it.
Zeus:
The bearer of Blood-Blood is no longer in the field of "can be destroyed." He is no longer vulnerable because the very notion of wound has no relevance to him. He is beyond logic. Beyond cause. Beyond effect.
Ñout:
Even death... has nothing to offer him.
Zeus turned toward the horizon. Distant cracks echoed in the skies. Golden fissures appeared in the dome of existence. The Dream was crumbling.
Zeus:
Ñout. Something is coming. Something even these Bloods... cannot seal. I feel it. Someone wants to gather these gifts... and make a single Judgment.
Ñout (slowly raising her hand to the fracturing sky):
Then we will have to choose... not a god to oppose it... but a silence stronger than these truths.
A new corridor of truths appeared, more abruptly.
A storm beyond the world roared in the void. Zeus, leaning on an ethereal pillar of Mount Olympus, stared at the black horizon from which the world's cracks stretched. He was no longer alone.
A veil of stars stretched in the fractured sky. The goddess Ñout, draped in primordial night, descended slowly, her bare feet touching the surface of the narrative as if it were a forgotten memory.
— Do you feel it, Ñout? said Zeus, his voice filled with a calm too perfect to be reassuring.
— Yes, she murmured. It approaches. It is not a god. It is not a concept. It is the epiphany of something the world had forgotten.
— They are not entities. They are... inverted laws. Truths that have decided to cease being debatable.
He closed his eyes. The cosmic wind carried traces of blood. Not ordinary blood. Not even divine blood.
— They have evolved, said Zeus. Do you want to hear them? Understand them?
Ñout approached. The sky curved. Time rewound a few moments, not by magic, but out of respect.
— Speak, Lord of Thunder. Tell me what you know.
— Ex Nihilo who becomes Dei-Veritas Lux Inviolata. The Celestial Blood is no longer the torch of the just. It has become... the prerequisite of all existence. Everything that does not recognize it is automatically marked as false. Not false by morality or logic. False... like an error in the very fabric of reality.
He raised his hand. A spark danced there. Around them, the mountain trembled.
— Even entities outside narratives, acausal, conceptually void... are recalculated as anomalies. And the Blood rejects them. It does not fight them. It erases them from the formulation.
— There is no more room for neutrality, whispered Ñout.
— No. There is only what is verified by it, or deleted as a cosmic bug.
Then there is Devourer of Realities becoming Nullosophic Omnicide.
Zeus straightened. His gaze was distant, almost haunted.
— The Voracity has ceased to be a predator. It has become... the anchor of oblivion.
He raised two fingers. A black mist formed.
— It no longer needs a target. It forces even those not yet born to take form... only to digest them in anti-memory.
— Can it affect the Unborn?
— It wants the Unborn to manifest, to inject oblivion into them. Even those who lived in structural immunity are now included in its appetite. For its essence is simple: "If there is something, I deny it. And if there is nothing, I create it to deny it."
Ñout stepped back. Silence stretched, long and heavy.
— Calm down Ñout, we must face all these revelations: Nihil Genesis Pathos.
Zeus looked at the sky. His tone became almost gentle.
— Thanatokosmos evolves into Nihil Genesis Pathos. Sadblood is no longer a poison. It is a universal mirror. It makes everything that is an expression of tragedy.
He slowly turned around, as if tracing an invisible spiral.
— Even an entity devoid of emotion becomes, under its influence, the theme of sadness. And in this theme, it becomes narrative. And thus reachable. And thus destructible.
— It poetizes suffering until it bends those who thought they had transcended it...
— ...and transforms abstraction into lamentation. It is the funeral music of the non-sensitive.
Zeus faced Ñout. His gaze was serious.
— The Absolute Wall of Being becomes Exentropic Wall. That one... has become the most terrible. It no longer just makes itself inaccessible. It forces the entire universe to define itself by it.
— It restructures everything? asked Ñout, worried.
— It rewrites inclusion values. What does not recognize it... becomes integrated as a contrast variable. Even the "untouchables" become terms in its closed equation.
He touched the ground. Everything shivered. Even ideas.
— Imagine a world where you can no longer ignore someone. Because your very being becomes a line of code inside its logic. And it alone has access to the syntax.
Silence.
The wind stopped. The world too. Everything seemed suspended, waiting.
— So, asked softly Ñout, is this the end?
Zeus looked down. Not toward Earth, but toward what lurked beneath it.
— No. It is not the end.
He closed his eyes.
— It is the reset. The emergence of a reality where the highest have no altitude, and the furthest are forced to return.
— What can we do?
Zeus smiled. Worn out, ancient, sovereign.
— For now Ñout... Observe. Memorize. Maybe... transmit. But there is no more defense. No refuge. These are the bloods. And the bloods no longer need permission.
Ñout sat beside him.
Together, they watched, seeing that the walls no longer tore.
Was it finally over? No, all this was only the beginning of an even worse new chapter.
A noise announced a terrible crash.
Ñout, surprised, said astonished:
— What? It's not over yet?
Zeus and Ñout, sitting, closed their eyes and seemed to be caught in a brutal revelation they could not understand.
A strange battle unfolded without them understanding anything.
The firmament no longer had a sky, only a pulsating membrane inscribed with dead equations. Zeus and Ñout stood on the threshold of a non-place even the Absolute Bloods hesitated to name. The MY0x did not appear; they observed, their presence revealed by the collapse of axioms. They were neither gods nor concepts, but living postulates, premises so fundamental they preceded the distinction between truth and fiction.
The MY0x embodied the principle of non-manifestation, the instant before any form, any thought. Their being merged with the axiomatic void, the invisible scaffolding on which the multiverse rested.
A perceptible sign: The stars did not extinguish; they were uninvited from cosmic syntax.
They acted as guardians of preconditions, making possible the existence of laws, narratives, even the Bloods. The Blood-Blood tried to exclude them from its closed equation... and found it had to include them first to deny them.
No narrative could grasp them. Sadblood tried to envelop them in ontological melancholy but sadness requires a subject, and the MY0x were prior to subjectivity.
The Absolute Voracity deployed its anti-memory, aiming to cancel the MY0x.
Absorption turned into paradoxical self-annihilation: Voracity began devouring its own generative law, transformed into an incomplete theorem.
Ñout, observing fluctuations: "They do not fight... They are the arena."
The Celestial Blood projected its Ex Nihilo drops to reformulate the MY0x.
Each drop became a replicator of non-differentiation, spreading the essence of the MY0x into the Bloods' fabric.
Zeus, veins irradiated with black cracks: "We do not correct an error... We generalize it."
Emergence of Proto-MY0x.
Sadblood, in despair, saturated the ether with its ontological sadness.
Melancholy crystallized into narrative metal, forcing the MY0x to adopt a readable form, a differential shadow.
The MY0x fragmented into lower monads, each engendering a universe ruled by an absolute law derived.
Ñout: "They are no longer off-screen... But at what cost?"
Zeus: "That of their ontological virginity."
The MY0x would absorb the clause, turning it into a new primordial law.
Using the Celestial Blood to recreate a void prior to the MY0x, the Void itself would become a defined entity by contrast, thus vulnerable.
"We will not destroy them... We will force them to choose."
The MY0x, now endowed with a differential shadow, ceased to be pure postulates. Their fall was not a defeat but an involuntary procreation: each fragment engendered a cosmos governed by a derived absolute law. The Absolute Bloods, exhausted, became passive guardians of these child-realities... until a proto-MY0x learned to desire.
Suddenly, everything stopped.
Zeus opened his eyes as did Ñout; they had left the Hall of the Foreseen.
Ñout:
It's finally over!
Zeus (sighing):
I understood nothing of the third wall, I know nothing of what was happening at that level, it's strange. What did the absolute authority try to show us?
Ñout looked at Zeus, still compassionate.
Zeus:
No matter, he said with determination: Ñout, you saw the same things as I did, and you know what we must do?
Ñout:
I am sorry, my lord, but I would need more light to understand you right now.
Zeus:
The Sadbloods, Heavenlyblood, etc... all these are abilities of Mü Thanatos. This goddess is becoming too dangerous, she will reach a level where we cannot stop her, we would just be spectators watching a total rewriting. I don't know, the Father God showed us all this from the absolute authority. I don't know if the MY0x were the Father God or anything, it's the first time I hear of them, I know nothing about them, but even these things beyond our understanding were affected by the bloods of Mü Thanatos...
Ñout:
But then what must we do? Try to get help from the Father God?
Zeus:
No... we must exile, seal, or make Mü Thanatos disappear before all these futures come true...
Ñout:
What? No my lord, I do not agree with that!!!
Zeus:
The futures of the Foreseen are true. Mü Thanatos will lose all reason and change everything. We must avoid that because it is clear that when it happens, we will all be powerless...