In a realm beyond time, at the edge of all known existence, the pool of darkness churned—a seething mass of unknown chaos, ever-birthing horrors that clawed at the fabric of reality. These creatures, nightmarish and twisted, would tear the multiverse apart if they ever crossed its threshold.
At the pool’s shore stood a figure, radiant and still. Clad in golden armor, his presence alone kept the darkness at bay. A 20-meter-long spear, seemingly woven from golden threads yet impossibly solid, rested in his hands, striking down the abominations that rose from the abyss. He was God, the Pinnacle Being, charged with an eternal duty to protect all of existence.
And then, a shadow emerged. Out of the void beyond, a figure in black armor approached, its presence dark and foreboding, a contrast to the golden warrior’s brilliance. The ground seemed to tremble beneath its feet, but it was not an agent of chaos—it was something else entirely. Something that had come to speak.
The black-armored being halted a few steps from the golden warrior, watching the ceaseless battle. Its voice was deep and resonant, filled with cold reason.
“Why do you still fight?” the black-armored figure asked. “Eons have passed, and still, you stand here, alone, striking down these horrors. But why?”
The golden warrior did not turn, his gaze fixed on the pool, his spear moving with the precision of eternity. “Because I must,” he said, his voice calm and unshaken.
The black-armored figure tilted its head. “Must? You are the Pinnacle of all creation. No one commands you. No one forces you to stand here, fighting a battle that has no end. Why do you continue to sacrifice yourself for beings who will never know what you do for them?”
The golden warrior paused for a fraction of a second, not in doubt, but as if considering the simplest way to express an eternal truth. “I am the only one who can.”
The black-armored figure took a step closer, its voice laced with frustration. “And that gives you responsibility? You believe that because you possess the strength to hold back these creatures, you are obligated to do so? Let them fight their own battles, let them learn to survive, or let them perish. Why do you alone carry the weight of the multiverse?”
The golden warrior struck down another creature emerging from the pool, its form dissolving into the nothingness from which it came. He spoke, his tone steady and unwavering. “If I step aside, who will take my place? These beings—fragile and fleeting as they are—cannot face the darkness. The multiverse is not ready to endure what lies within the abyss. I fight not because I seek to, but because I am the only one who can. And that is enough.”
The black-armored being’s fists clenched, the faintest echo of anger beneath its calm. “You assume they will never be ready because you have shielded them from the truth of what lies beyond. How can they grow strong if you stand in their way, preventing them from facing the unknown? You are not their savior—you are their crutch.”
The golden warrior remained silent for a moment, watching as another wave of monsters surged from the pool. His spear moved with divine grace, cutting through the dark tide, and once again the abyss was silent. He then turned, for the first time, to face the black-armored figure. His golden eyes shone with the weight of countless lifetimes, but there was no anger, only purpose.
“To let them face this is to condemn them to death. You see only the surface, the creatures that crawl from the pool. But beyond it, there are forces that would tear the multiverse apart in an instant. These beings, these fragile lives, are not yet capable of understanding what they would face. My battle is not to keep them weak—it is to give them time. Time to grow, time to live, time to learn. Perhaps one day, they will be strong enough to stand against the unknown. But that day is not today.”
The black-armored figure’s eyes glowed beneath its helm, a flicker of something almost like sorrow passing through them. “And what of you?” it asked. “Will you stand here forever? Will you fight until you are nothing? Is your existence, your divinity, meant only for this? The beings you protect live their lives, ignorant of your sacrifice. You are alone. You will always be alone. Do you not deserve more?”
The golden warrior did not waver. His gaze remained fixed on the black-armored being, but his stance never shifted. “My existence is not for myself. It is for them. Their ignorance is not a burden; it is my purpose. I am the only one who can fight this battle, and so I will. If that means I stand here for eternity, then so be it. As long as I stand, they thrive. And that is enough.”
The black-armored figure’s voice grew quiet, almost a whisper. “You carry a burden no being should have to bear. One day, you will fall. And when that day comes, the multiverse will not be prepared. You fight to give them time, but in doing so, you deny them the strength to face their own destiny. You cannot hold back the darkness forever.”
The golden warrior turned back to the abyss, his spear raised once more as the darkness stirred, preparing to unleash another wave of horrors. “Perhaps you are right,” he said softly. “Perhaps one day I will fall. But until that day comes, I will not abandon them. I will stand, because I am the only one who can.”
The black-armored figure watched in silence as the golden warrior once again struck down the creatures rising from the pool. For a moment, the black figure lingered, as if searching for some final argument, some way to sway the unshakable being before it.
But in the end, it found nothing.
With a sweep of its dark cloak, the black-armored figure turned and faded into the void, leaving the golden warrior alone once more at the edge of the abyss.
The pool bubbled, the creatures stirred, and the battle resumed. Yet the sign at the golden warrior’s feet remained, unchanged, eternal:
“As long as I stand, existence thrives.”
And so, he stood.