The stars trembled.
Planets cracked at the edges. Black holes flinched like they were alive. Somewhere in the depths of the first light, Khaos stood—alone—her long hair swirling like a living shadow, her eyes glowing with a white fury that cracked the very fabric around her.
She stood at the edge of everything.
The edge where space stopped making sense, where the last known coordinates of the Outer Void used to be. It looked calm now. Just sky. Just silence.
But Khaos could feel it. That was a lie.
"Come on…" she whispered.
Her hand was raised, fingers glowing with old power. Not magic. Not divine grace. Older than that. Older than time. The power of before-before. Of things not even the gods dared name.
She pulled it forward. Ripped it downward.
The fabric of space screamed.
For a second, a line appeared. A flicker. A breath.
Then it healed. Instantly. Like it had never been touched.
Khaos gritted her teeth. "Again."
