Fear.
An emotion carved into our DNA—developed not out of weakness, but survival. A primal instinct honed over millennia to keep us alive. To make us run from predators, to hesitate at the edge of a cliff, to stay quiet in the dark.
It's natural to be afraid of what we don't understand. It's not stupidity—it's caution. You don't know if something can hurt you, and by the time you find out, it might already be too late. So fear becomes the first response. A warning siren blaring before logic can even load.
So naturally... when a giant fucking eye, larger than the entire planet, opens in the sky and looks down at us—we feel fear.
Pure. Unfiltered. Fear.
Not the kind that makes your heart race. Not even the kind that makes your knees buckle.
No—this is the kind of fear that silences entire civilizations. That makes even the bravest warrior forget how to breathe. That makes the world feel small, insignificant, like a speck of dust under the gaze of something that shouldn't exist.
Because when something that massive looks at you—not through you, not past you, but directly at you—you realize how little you understand about the universe.
And suddenly, every horror story, every nightmare, every ancient tale of gods and monsters… doesn't feel like fiction anymore.
How did something this horrifying find us?
The most logical explanation?
Aliens.
Not the little green men kind—no, I'm talking about true aliens. Civilizations so far beyond us that their technology might as well be magic. Species that could cross galaxies like we cross streets, that could manipulate matter and energy with the same ease we use a touchscreen.
And how did they find us?
Because we told them where we were.
No seriously—we broadcast it. Humanity, in all its naïve glory, decided it would be a great idea to beam our location into the endless, unknown void of space. Not once. Not twice. Repeatedly. Radio waves, gold-plated records, digital files, carefully constructed maps of our solar system—all of it, packaged up like a celestial resume and thrown into the dark, screaming:
"Hey! We're over here! Come check us out!
"We didn't just send out a signal.
We sent everything.
"HEY! WE'RE HERE! SMALL, STUPID, AND UNARMED!"
We sent maps. We sent languages. We sent music. We sent our coordinates, our DNA structure, and a bunch of other things no sane species would ever hand over to complete strangers across the galaxy.
We even engraved our exact solar system layout onto gold discs and launched them into space like a universal dating profile.
Our languages. Our math. Our cultural quirks. Our scientific progress. Our understanding of chemistry, biology, and physics. Basically a goddamn starter kit for "How to Understand and Conquer Humans 101." Oh, and just to make sure they didn't get lost, we included our exact location on multiple formats—like some desperate Tinder bio for aliens:
"Hi, we're Earth! 3rd rock from the sun, not very technologically advanced. We breathe oxygen, have unresolved global conflicts, and we think nukes make us look cool. Swipe right if you're not planning to harvest our organs!"
They probably swiped left.
Anyways-
And what's worse? We did all this expecting—fully expecting—that whoever picked up our signal would be nice.
Nice.
As if the kind of civilization that can detect, decode, and respond to those signals isn't already eons ahead of us. As if they're just floating around out there, bored and looking for new friends—not new lab rats. As if the kind of civilization that can interpret our signals across light-years would need to be kind.
It's the equivalent of an ant sending a heartfelt invitation to a boot, hoping it'll come to tea and not stomp it into the dirt.
Because let's be real—what does humanity do when it discovers a new species?
We study it. We cage it. We dissect it. Sometimes we pretend to protect it, but only after we've put it behind glass, in a zoo, where children can point and laugh.
Do we offer wild animals peace treaties when we discover them? Of course not.
Why?
Because we think we're superior.
So what exactly did we think would happen when something a million times more advanced than us heard our signal?
They'd be impressed? They'd send gifts?
They probably saw our signals and laughed.
"Look at these apes. They just cracked nuclear fission and still haven't figured out how to not poison their oceans. Let's pay them a visit."
And now? Something's looking at us. Something with an eye bigger than our planet.
And all we can do is sit here and say:
"Wow, who could've seen this coming?"
Well, anyone with a brain that doesn't run on optimism and sci-fi fantasies, that's who.
We didn't knock on heaven's door. We rang the bell on every single house in hell, handed them a tour guide to our planet, and left the lights on.
And now we're surprised the devil showed up.
...
'Calm down'
I took in a deep breath, despite just being a ghost and not having lungs.
And despite all this unnatural phenomenon, despite my rant about fear and inexplicable cosmic horrors and my anger towards humanity's stupidity.
I did not feel scared.
Imagine this:
Just outside your house, right at your doorstep, there's a feral dog.
It's not barking. It's not growling. It's just there—sitting. Waiting. Its matted fur twitches with every breeze, its eyes locked onto your door like it knows you're watching from the window. You're terrified of it. Not because it's attacking, but because it could. Any second. It's unpredictable. Wild. And it has nothing to lose.
So now you live differently. You inch open your door. You plan your steps. You peek through curtains. You don't go out at night. You're trapped in your own home, not by force—but by the fear of what might happen if that thing decides to move.
Then one day, you decide to go on a vacation—maybe to clear your head. You end up on a safari trip, out in the wild, surrounded by nature in its rawest, most ruthless form.
And that's when it happens.
You get attacked by a lion.
A real, claws-and-fangs, hundred-kilogram engine of death.
It's not like documentaries. There's no dramatic music, no slow-motion. It's a blur of teeth, blood, and the primal realization that you're going to die. Your body freezes, instincts fail, thoughts scatter.
But by some miracle—or more accurately, because someone with a gun shows up—you survive. You're airlifted, patched up, and sent back home.
And now, as you limp up the porch, stitches tugging at your skin, you see that dog again. That same mangy, wild-eyed thing that's been haunting your mornings for months.
And what do you feel?
Nothing.
Not fear. Not dread.
Because after facing a lion, a dog just doesn't feel threatening anymore.
It's not that the dog changed. It's still wild. Still twitchy. Still watching. But you changed.
You've seen worse. You've faced death, been inside its jaws, and come back.
And suddenly, the fear you once felt for this creature seems… pathetic. Small. Laughable.
And that's exactly what I was feeling right now.
Because somehow, deep in my bones, I knew—whatever I was facing, no matter how powerful, no matter how impossibly advanced, no matter how godlike it seemed in the eyes of humanity…
It was still completely, laughably inferior to the Domain Keeper.
The fear that had been clawing at the edges of my mind started to dissolve. Not because the threat wasn't real—but because I had seen the lion. I had stood in front of something so incomprehensibly powerful that even this… this cosmic horror, this eye larger than a planet, felt small in comparison.
And then my mind exploded again.
"Grr"
"RAGH"
'Is that...' I narrowed my eyes, not believing what I was seeing 'Gojo Satoru?'
No, it was not really Gojo Satoru. I mean it is, it's just that
'This guy's a zombie??'
I know I have no right to question anything anymore, mainly because I've just witnessed two godlike entities, but...
'The hell? Why are there zombified Anime characters here????'
Just as I said that, a bat flew right past me before turning into a pale vampire that I knew all too well..
'Edward Cullen from Twilight???'
And that wasn't the only character I recognized.
Emperor Mark from 'Invincible' in his white viltrumite suit zipping across the planet, Homelander from TheBoys'... just being himself, lasering everyone to death, Albus Dumbledore using the killing curse.
And...Walter White???
'I take it back, this isn't just anime, this is pretty much every piece of media from every single nation zombified'
I watched as the world spiraled into chaos—people screaming and scattering in every direction, only to be caught, dragged down, or torn apart before they could get far. It was a mess of panic and confusion, but what came next was worse. Some of the fallen started twitching unnaturally, their limbs jerking like puppets on frayed strings. Then came the sound—the kind of roar that didn't belong in any human throat.
They were turning. Right there, on the blood-soaked streets.
And somehow, in the middle of all this madness, no one noticed me. Not a single glance. I hovered through crowds, passed right in front of the giant eye that watched the world like a god, but nothing reacted.
At first, I thought maybe it was luck, maybe I was just being ignored. But the more I moved around—through vampires, zombies, monsters, and gods—the more obvious it became: I wasn't just being ignored.
I wasn't even there to them.
It made no sense. With the number of spirit-sensitive freaks running around—Dumbledore, Gojo, even Edward freaking Cullen—I was sure someone would notice me.
But none of them did.
'Wait...' I thought as my eyes widened 'What about me?'
Immediately I turned around, flying full force downwards back to my old house.
As I neared my house, I heard unnatural guttural sounds coming from within
'Fuck'
No.
No, no, no, no—
My heart didn't just pound—it sank. The kind of weight that presses into your ribs and steals your breath before you even hit the ground.
I didn't even realize what I was doing anymore. My body was flying, but my mind was already inside, searching—begging—for just one answer.
Please let her be okay.Please let her be okay.Please—
I froze midair, eyes locked on the scene unfolding inside.
There I was—the old me—hunched over my sister, shielding her with my body. Completely still. Not even breathing.
Across the room, a zombified Demogorgon stalked through the hallway, its movements jerky and wrong, limbs twitching like broken puppets. It made no sense—it shouldn't have been there. But logic had long since packed its bags and left.
None of it mattered though. My gaze kept drifting back to the way my old self held her.
Silent. Motionless.
Protecting.
My sister stayed crouched beneath me, clutching my lifeless body so tightly that fresh blood seeped from the wounds. Maybe, deep down, she was hoping the pain would stir something in me—that I'd flinch, gasp, move... anything.
But the gaping hole in my chest, where my heart should've been, said more than words ever could.
She let out quiet choked sobs while burying her head in my chest, careful not to make any noise as the Demigorgon was still in the house.
Deep down, beneath all the horror and chaos, a twisted sense of relief washed over me. Even in the middle of this nightmare, even after everything… she still cared. That alone cut deeper than any wound I'd ever taken.
'What the fuck am I thinking right now...'
I quickly tore my gaze away from her, shaking my head as if trying to rid myself of the overwhelming wave of guilt. I had no time for that right now, no time to dwell on what I couldn't change. My thoughts snapped back to the situation at hand as a loud, inhuman screech echoed through the house.
My eyes, no, everyone's eyes—zombified or otherwise—turned toward the sky. Even the gargantuan eye that loomed above shifted, its dark, endless gaze drawn to a single point.
A small blue portal had appeared, hovering ominously in the sky. From it, something—no, someone—emerged.
A kid.
My heart skipped a beat as I took in the sight. He couldn't have been older than me. Around 15 years old, if that. His black hair flowed like it had a life of its own, and his piercing blue eyes locked onto the chaos unfolding beneath him as though he were above it all.
And not a second later, everything screeched to a halt.
Every single zombie, despite already being dead, screamed in fear as they turned and ran away from him—away from the child in the sky, as if this figure was something so absurd, so ridiculously powerful, it could even make the dead tremble. It was as if the very essence of their existence, the cursed undeath they'd been condemned to, could not withstand the presence of this strange kid.
Emperor Mark—the strongest Viltrumite to ever exist, a being who had ruled the Viltrum Empire for over 500 years, whose power was enough to destroy entire planets, who was durable enough to survive inside of the core of the sun—tried to flee. His body shot upward into the sky, his cape fluttering violently as he propelled himself toward outer space. There was no hesitation, no confidence in his own indestructibility.
He just… ran.
Homelander, perhaps the most egotiscal bastard I knew, someone who would go against the whole world and die rather than admit his own weakness, ran away faster than the speed of sound, cutting down anything that came in his path.
Albus Dumbledore—someone who had once willingly drank poisoned water in a cursed cave filled with inferni, all for the sole purpose of retrieving a single Horcrux, and who had even planned his own death with the calm precision of someone confronting fate head-on—suddenly cast Avada Kedavra on himself, as though he had decided that facing the Killing Curse was a far more preferable alternative than whatever this child represented.
—Ryomen Sukuna, the strongest sorcerer of the Heian Era, didn't even fight. Didn't throw a single cursed slash or grin his usual wicked grin. No, Sukuna—The King of Curses—just stood there for half a second too long, processing the impossible weight pressing down on his very soul…
And then he exploded.
As if the universe decided that his existence was no longer compatible with the reality this child had just stepped into.
Even the gigantic floating eye, fucking vanished the moment it saw the child.
And then a second later, everything was back to its original position.
Mark was back on earth, Homelander never moved from his initial spot, Dumbledore was still alive, Sukuna hadn't been erased from existence, and the gigantic eye had re-appeared back.
Then the sky shimmered. It cracked. No, split—as if the very air itself was being torn open. The void above the earth folded in on itself, creating a cage, a boundary, an unbreakable prison that suffocated every single soul within. A cosmic leash, wrapped around the planet, with no hope of escape.
"Did you really think, I would let you leave?'
The child murmured, but somehow, his voice was loud enough that the entire world heard it.
And then-he moved
The spot where he stood shattered, as if space-time itself could not handle his speed, as if reality couldn't handle the weight of his existence. Time, space, everything—had to rip apart just to accommodate him.
One blink. One instant.
And then—all of them were dead.
Every last one of the zombies—gone. The walking nightmares, the puppets of a twisted reality, now nothing more than ashes on the wind.
The gigantic eye—once an omnipotent presence, now crumbling, slowly disintegrating in the very air, as if it was nothing more than a fleeting illusion.
The child didn't even break a sweat.
The child then turned, his gaze sharp and focused, like he had a singular purpose in mind. Without a single word, without even a change in his expression, he began to move. His body blurred into motion, faster than I could comprehend, cutting through the air like a force of nature.
'Wait... is that...'
My stomach dropped. The direction he was flying? It was unmistakable.
'No way,' I thought, shaking my head in disbelief. 'My house? It can't be. My house is probably just in the way. He's going elsewhere. I don't even know this kid.'
I tried to shake the feeling creeping over me. There was no way this kid was heading straight for the one place I held any semblance of attachment to in this godforsaken world.
But as I blinked, there he was. Right in front of my house.
The moment his feet touched the ground, the air shifted—everything around him seemed to bend. The wind howled as if acknowledging the force that had just arrived. And without a word, he reached for the door.
The door, which had been untouched for so long, creaked open with a gentle push, as though it had been waiting for him all along.
(Yes, I am glazing him opening a door)
Why the hell was this god-like entity going into my house?
'Wait, my sister's still in there.'
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Panic surged through me like a tidal wave, washing away every ounce of doubt.
Without thinking, I was already moving, darting through the air, my body speeding toward my home faster than I could process. My heart hammered in my chest, each beat sending a fresh jolt of fear through my bones.
I couldn't let her be alone with this... whatever he was. He was so far beyond anything I could comprehend—this child was no mere god. He was the kind of being that reshaped the very fabric of reality itself with a single glance.
I arrived at home, jolting through the walls.
There I saw my sister, and she was...
'No...'