CHAPTER 290: CHAPTER 48

The Heart of the Universe.

A concept beyond mortal comprehension.

It was not matter, nor an energy, it’s not even a soul.

But it was the axis upon which existence revolved, the singular point that held together every thread of fate, every quantum of time, every probability and dream, and every parallel universes that ever existed within its domain.

Every universe had one, and only one.

It pulsed at the center of infinity, unseen, untouched, and unreachable except by those who could transcend the totality of reality itself.

To approach it meant to surpass not only the barriers of time and space but also the infinite reflections of self scattered across parallel existences.

The Outer Ones, those crawling beings beyond creation, hungered for it.

To them, universes were nourishment, but the Heart was the core meal, the purest essence of existence and devouring it meant dominion over an entire cosmic cycle.

The fragments of the outer ones that were sent to devour the universe would slowly devour the cosmos to force the heart to show itself, as even the fragments cannot reach it without needing the help of the main body.

The heart has no consciousness, but it has instinct to protect itself, and by extension, the universe.

If it felt the universe is in danger, it would appear itself to protect it, only for the frgaments to devour it completely.

The heart has no consciousness, yes....

But one Heart from a certain universe was different.

Through a convergence of events so rare it could never be repeated, this Heart changed.

Whether through internal evolution, the influence of an unknown force, or the echo of something even greater, it gained awareness.

It developed an ego, a sense of "I."

And that single deviation from the natural order changed everything.

Instead of birthing Primordials as instruments to shape its realm, this Heart chose to mold the cosmos itself.

Its pulse became light, its breath became time, its will became law, and stars, matter, and life all flowed directly from its thought.

When it first spoke, its voice rippled through the void and named itself: "I am."

Thus, the Heart truly gained a sense of self, and became known as Yahweh, the God Almighty,

From that moment, He stood alone.

A being who required no beginning, no end, and no rival.

Not even Shiva, who danced destruction across universes, could not match His scale.

Not even Vishnu, who sustained the worlds, could not perceive the totality of His reach.

His existence overshadowed them all, like a solitary being beyond measurement and beyond comparison.

But He was not a ruler who sought worship nor praise.

He merely enjoyed to watched in silence, detached yet ever-present, observing His creations evolve and crumble, rise and fall.

The angelic hosts served under His word, yet few ever saw Him directly.

The gods of other universes thinks his supposed strength was a myth, yet secretly feared the possibility that his strength was truly as powerful as the rumors.

Despite this, He never interfered.

Not when civilizations burned, not when stars died, not even when lesser gods tore at each other for dominion.

For Him, these were the natural beats of a universe breathing in rhythm with itself.

He has no reason to concern himself with the natural order ...until now.

In the endless expanse of His realm, beyond the highest heaven, a throne of radiant gold floated above the sea of creation.

Light cascaded in waves, yet there was no source.

Choirs of soundless hymns resonated through the air, though no voice sang them.

Upon the throne sat a figure both male and female, beautiful beyond all definitions of beauty.

His form was luminous, shaped of gold and light, yet unmistakably human in outline.

Every breath He took caused galaxies to shimmer and stars to ignite.

For eternity, His eyes had remained closed.

Now, they opened.

Golden light poured forth, piercing through layers of reality, shattering illusions of time and distance.

His gaze fell upon something far beyond His universe, something that stirred even His divine calm.

His voice, serene yet vast, drifted across dimensions.

"So, he really fused with the heart."

He leaned forward slightly, fingers tapping the armrest of His throne. "Interesting. I thought it would take him more time, but he exceeded my expectations."

The light of His eyes dimmed for a moment, replaced by something resembling contemplation.

He saw it, another pulse, far away, deep within another universe. A Heart newly bound to a god cloaked in darkness and death.

"Hades..." He whispered the name softly, yet the sound resonated through every angelic realm. "The King of the Underworld... the one who will carry the weight of eternity."

For the first time in countless eons, He smiled.

He raised His hand, and from His palm, threads of light extended outward, stretching through layers of creation, through dimensions and timelines, seeking the path to that other universe.

"As expected, I guess my choice is correct."

He is Yahweh, the Almighty, ruler of the Christian Pantheon, the first will of creation that gave birth to heaven, earth, and the souls of men.

For eternity, He remained asleep. Not from weariness, for such a concept was beneath Him, but simply to restrain himself.

He had long severed Himself from the totality of His own power, locking away His omniscience and omnipotence deep within his soul while he dreams.

And within that dream, He watched His angels, His saints, and His worlds unfold as if He were one of them, limited, blind, but free to wonder.

To witness creation as a participant rather than its architect.

That was His quiet joy.

But eons ago, his little ’dream’ came to an abrupt end when a ripple echoes in the void.

It was faint at first, a pulse through the fabric of His universe, then a quake that rippled through the realms of Heaven and Hell alike.

The harmony of the Heart that sustained His world had faltered, its rhythm altered by something beyond His domain.

So He forced himself awake, retaining his original power.

When His awareness returned, reality itself bowed under the weight of His consciousness.

Every seraph in Heaven fell to their knees, their wings trembling under the sudden, unbearable light.

The choirs ceased.

The time itself stilled.

Even the flow of divine law halted in reverence of its source.

Yahweh opened His golden eyes and saw the source of that ripple, and his eyes locked on the Greek universe.

There, He saw Hades.

The Lord of the Underworld, a being who was never meant to rise beyond divinity and surpassed by his brothers.

A god who had clawed his way into transcendence by using an artifact forbidden even among the highest beings, the Breakdown Sphere.

LYahweh had known of it. He had watched its creation, its misuse, until it disentegrated and fused within Hades himself.

He saw how Hades devoured a fragment of an Outer One, something that no god should ever touch.

He saw him merge that abominable power with divine essence and remain sane.

Impossible, but real.

Such defiance against the cosmic order should have invited annihilation, yet Hades endured.

Yahweh, though all-seeing, had chosen to ignore it at the time.

For Him, existence was a river that must flow on its own. He allowed the strong to rise and the weak to fall. Intervention was not His way. The mortals, the gods, the fallen—all were permitted to act according to their own will.

Not to mention Hades wasn’t even part of his pantheon.

But then, when he was about to close his eyes once more, a word caught His ears, the Hyperverse.

The concept devised by Odin and Nyx reached His awareness as a faint echo, an idea so ambitious it shook even divine stillness.

The merging of universes.

A structure that could bind multiple realities together into one layered existence—a Hyperverse capable of standing against the Outer Ones.

When Yahweh first beheld it, He had smiled faintly. To fuse universes, to defy the natural law of separation, was madness.

Yet it was also evolution.

He watched them—the Greeks, the Norse, the Mesopotamians, the Egyptians—scrambling to survive in the shadow of those things beyond existence.

He admired their desperation, even their fear. Because it was the same fear that once drove Him to forge Heaven itself.

Still, He hesitated.

He did not want to act.

For him, everything that is happening is natural, like a river flowing or the birds flying. That is the natural order. And Yahweh does not want to touch that order.

However, he also knew that despite possessing omnipotence, it can only be used within this universe. Outside, in the void, he was no better than an average Primordial.

But when He saw Hades ascending those golden stairs, binding the totality of his universe to himself, Yahweh’s silence ended.

He watched the Underworld King endure the conceptual weight of infinity. He watched him defy collapse, suppress chaos, and ascend to the heart of his world.

When the fusion succeeded, Yahweh’s decision was made.

He rose from His throne, and His voice filled the seven heavens like thunder over still water.

"Michael," He called.

A man with a pair of pure white wings, with long blond hair and wearing a golden armor, appeared instantly, kneeling. "My Lord."

"Prepare the Thrones," Yahweh said. "And summon the Seraphim. The time has come for Heaven to open its gates to the Outer Realms."

Michael hesitated. "You mean to—"

"Yes." Yahweh’s gaze turned beyond His cosmos, to where Hades now stood as a god of gods. "I shall join this alliance. The Hyperverse must be born."

The golden light surrounding Him intensified, spreading like the dawn through the firmament.

The sleeping God was awake once more, and His will now extended beyond His own universe.

For the first time in countless eons, Yahweh moved.