Far, far away, in a realm whose grandeur transcended the boundaries of human comprehension, there existed a domain that defied the very concept of emptiness. The cosmic void—that vast expanse of nothingness that separated galaxies and star systems—had been transformed here into something else entirely. Where there should have been only darkness and the cold silence of space, there instead thrived a civilization of such magnificent scale and complexity that it rewrote the rules of what was possible.
This was no mere city or world but a vast, interconnected tapestry of existence that sprawled across what should have been empty space. Structures of impossible size and architecture floated in perfect geometric arrangements—some as small as planetoids, others dwarfing entire solar systems. These weren't buildings in any conventional sense but manifestations of thought and power given physical form, each one a testament to mastery over reality itself.
The material from which these structures were crafted defied classification—neither solid nor liquid nor gas nor energy, but something that was simultaneously all and none of these states. It shimmered with colors beyond the comprehension of lesser beings, hues that existed in dimensions of perception inaccessible to mortal senses. These colors shifted and changed, not randomly but in complex patterns that contained information, communication, history—the living memory of a civilization older than time itself.
Between these massive structures flowed rivers of pure light—not the electromagnetic radiation known to mortal science but something more fundamental, more primal. These currents connected the various "cities" (though such a mundane term failed to capture their true nature), carrying not just energy but consciousness, thought, and purpose throughout this vast domain.
At the very center of this impossible realm stood what appeared to be a city that dwarfed all others—a structure so vast that the planet Gaia could have fit within one of its smaller districts. This central metropolis pulsed with power that bent space and time around it, creating a gravitational well not of mass but of pure significance. Reality itself seemed to orbit around this nexus, as if acknowledging its primacy in the order of existence.
This was the ancestral home of the Proteras, those beings whose age predated the very concept of time, whose power had shaped the fundamental forces of the multiverse, whose wisdom had cataloged the birth and death of countless realities. They were not gods—such a concept was too limited, too defined by the perceptions and needs of lesser beings. They simply were, had always been, would always be—the alpha and omega of conscious existence.
Within the heart of this central metropolis, in a structure that somehow managed to be both impossibly vast and intimately contained, a silent alarm suddenly activated.
At the ringing of this particular silent alarm, numerous, mind-numbing, and ancient beings awoke and gathered in the centermost world-like city and in a particular building and inside a room in the most secure location of this part of the void, overwatched by guards so strong that the mightiest of primordials would cower in fear before them. They appeared one by one and, after a few seconds, totaled up to five beings.
These entities defied description in any language created by mortal minds. They were both present and not, both singular and multiple, both defined and infinite. They did not possess bodies in any conventional sense but rather existed as concentrations of pure consciousness and power that chose to manifest in forms that could interact with the physical dimensions when necessary. Even these manifestations were beyond comprehension—shifting configurations of light, energy, and possibility that contained within them the knowledge and experience of eons.
"The... the... alarm... it rang?" one of these obscenely powerful and great beings, with a sweet and feminine voice so alluring there was no man who'd have their legs turn to jelly from hearing it, stuttered in shock and uncertainty...
The voice itself was a marvel—not mere sound waves propagating through air but a direct transmission of concept and emotion that happened to manifest as auditory sensation for convenience. It contained within it harmonies that could bring tears to the eyes of the most hardened warriors, depths that could drive philosophers to madness, and a sweetness that could make the most beautiful music ever created by mortal hands seem like discordant noise in comparison.
"But how? That's almost impossible! I mean, I placed said alarm, which is meant to ring when WE find the missing pieces... but... but none, no one was here in the last millennia, let alone eons... right?" another spoke, this one a female as well, but sounded strict and full of authority. Even they, who were responsible for discovering the last missing pieces of their great civilization's invention, were unsure of the current situation.
This second voice carried with it the weight of absolute command—the kind of authority that did not need to be enforced because it simply was. It resonated with the fundamental vibrations of reality itself, as if the universe naturally aligned with its dictates. To hear it was to understand, on some primal level beyond conscious thought, what it meant to be bound by law and order on a cosmic scale.
They, pioneers and progenitors of the Proteras, were at a loss.
They were beings as old as the great timeline; the very space-time continuum knew of them since its very formation since they were there as the first.
To be honest, there's nothing that could surprise and take them aback; there's nothing that could catch them off-guard. Even their enemies usually walk on tip-toes around them, considering their great power, and said enemies were more dreadful and broken beings similar to them.
But it seems that they were in for a shock of their lives.
"It doesn't matter..." another of the five spoke, a gruff male voice resounding through the space with strength and authority that shook the very fabric of reality. "The signal caught by the Chronohelix was as accurate as I believe it was, and all of us know that.... Considering that we're missing two pieces of something, we need to understand this signal in detail and know where it's coming from..." he continued.
This third voice did not merely command attention—it demanded it at a fundamental level. It was the voice of creation and destruction in perfect balance, of stars being born and dying in the same breath. It carried with it the absolute certainty of one who had witnessed the rise and fall of entire realities and found them all equally transient. It was a voice that could reshape the laws of physics with a whisper, that could erase entire dimensions with a shout.
"Do you even understand what this means???" the second female retorted. "The alarm sounding now means that the Chronohelix itself found missing pieces or even ingredients of something WE don't know what it is? For all we know, it could be a simple grain of sand on a planet in the mortal realm that just got created, for crying out loud!!!!" they spoke in utter exasperation and frankly madness...
The frustration in this voice was a dangerous thing—not merely emotion but power seeking release. As the being spoke, reality itself seemed to waver slightly, the fundamental constants of the universe fluctuating in response to their agitation. In the mortal realms, such fluctuations might manifest as inexplicable natural disasters, as stars suddenly going supernova, as the laws of physics briefly rewriting themselves in localized areas.
"Then we search, we understand, we discover, just like we've always done, just like we'll always do..." the male responded in a bland commanding tone.
With these words, something shifted in the very fabric of existence—a subtle reorientation, as if the universe itself was acknowledging a new direction, a new purpose. Across countless dimensions, sensitive beings suddenly looked up, feeling something change in the fundamental nature of reality though unable to identify what.
The remaining two beings, just as strong and ancient as the rest, nodded what could be perceived as their heads in agreement. "Perceive" being the closest word to describe their current appearance in this secure room with a very delicate tool.
These final two entities maintained their silence, but their agreement was no less significant for its lack of verbalization. Their consent registered not as words but as a subtle realignment of probability across all of existence—paths that had been closed suddenly opening, futures that had been certain becoming fluid once more.
"Aaaarrgh... fine!" the complaining female replied heatedly in frustration as she disappeared, clearly stressed by the odd behavior of their vital and integral tool that they had not even had a single thought would have...
Her departure was not merely an exit but a fundamental shift in the cosmic order. For a brief moment, a section of reality simply ceased to contain her presence, the void filled instantly with the adjusted probabilities of a universe without her immediate influence. Across countless dimensions, beings sensitive to such shifts might experience a moment of inexplicable dread or relief, depending on their natures, though none would understand its source.
"She'll calm down, and by now already has a plan..." the other female with the sultry voice suddenly spoke and disappeared as well, likely looking for her comrade.
Her departure was more subtle—not a sudden absence but a gentle withdrawal, like a tide receding from shore. The fabric of reality adjusted more smoothly around her absence, the ripples of her exit propagating outward in perfect mathematical progressions that would manifest in the mortal realms as unexplained moments of perfect harmony or inexplicable beauty.
The remaining beings all observed the Chronohelix in silence, till the male spoke once more, this time addressing the other two...
The Chronohelix itself was a marvel beyond mortal comprehension—not merely a device or tool but a living extension of reality's own self-awareness. It existed simultaneously as concept and substance, as theoretical construct and physical manifestation. Its form constantly shifted between states of being that had no names in any mortal language, its purpose both clearly defined and infinitely adaptable.
"The both of you, go support the search. I will remain to understand and learn..." he said as what could be perceived as his visage never left their precious device.
And to those words, the beings promptly left.
Their departures created a cascading series of probability adjustments throughout the cosmos—subtle shifts in the fundamental constants that would manifest in the mortal realms as unexplained phenomena, as discoveries made simultaneously by scientists working independently, as moments of inexplicable synchronicity across vast distances.
And it was at this point, this very, very crucial point, that what Ryan had thought to be a simple manhunt turned out to be the precursor of a very bloody war, spawning everywhere.
A simple ignorance of a very simple action was all it took for the most dangerous beings in existence to now literally be hot on his trail and not their subordinates. The difference would make or break him.
And clearly, it looked like time was not on his side...
As the ancient entities dispersed to begin their search, ripples of their purpose spread outward through the cosmos, touching countless realities, influencing innumerable destinies. And somewhere, on a small planet called Gaia, in a forest known as The Groove Canopy, a newly awakened being named Ryan followed a path deeper into the woods, blissfully unaware that he had just become the focal point of attention for the oldest and most powerful entities in existence.
The mysteries of the beyond had begun to unfold.