The Final Dimension: The Sealed Hollow Gate
The sky had long stopped changing colors, no longer reflecting the hues of dawn or dusk. Time itself had melted into fragments—like tangled, endless threads unraveling without direction. At the edge of one million worlds, only void awaited: an end so absolute that even the Gods dared not touch it.
In the midst of that cosmic emptiness stood a young man. His body defied the laws of physics, his breath unbound by cause and effect. He was Anoby—the perfect anomaly that rejected all limits. He had crossed millions of worlds: building empires, toppling civilizations, engraving stories, and tossing love into the abyss of memory. But now, in the 1,000,000th Dimension, he carried only fragments of who he used to be.
Infinity Form.
Not a power he had learned, but a hollow manifestation of everything he had once possessed—formless, limitless, and beyond the grasp of numbers or language.
Before him stretched the throne of time—cracked and broken. Its pillars were split, its curves torn apart by endless voids. Sitting there was Asmodeus—a being that had never been born in any reality.
An Illegal God.
Abductor of the Administrator Goddess.
Architect of a million worlds of suffering.
Master of time, rewinder of fate, and sculptor of logic against destiny.
Asmodeus stepped down from his throne without a sound, yet every breath of his footfall shook the joints of reality. His face was blank, emotionless, yet every corner of his lips exuded the sharpest irony. He was breathing absence—not death, but a living nothingness.
"You've walked so far, only to arrive exactly where I meant you to."
Asmodeus's voice echoed from within the empty space, like the silent thunder of the entire cosmos.
Anoby didn't reply—he stepped forward, and with each stride, the horizon of dimensions cracked into fading bursts of light.
A Witnessless Cosmic Duel
They faced each other on a battlefield that could no longer be called existence. No witnesses. No sky to record it. No ground to echo. Only two entities that refused containment.
Anoby's First Strike
Anoby moved his hand—and the cosmos trembled. From points of nothingness, infinite numbers rose—becoming entropy-born entities that refused to be called "copies." Thousands, millions, an uncountable storm of existential mirrors burned into shards of light, spinning wildly in the air. Each fragment emitted a dimensionless scream—a vibration that seemed to tear logic itself. They shot forward like nuclei of eternity, swallowing cracks in time before diving toward Asmodeus's heart.
Asmodeus's Response
But Asmodeus just stared coldly, showing no emotion. With a single gesture—like writing a formula of his own—he bent the waves of light into the empty gaps between seconds. Every strike meant for his body was redirected by a web of twisted causality; the attacks bounced back, transforming into fragments of doubt he then injected into Anoby's soul. Singularities etched into Anoby's joints, sealing the Infinity flow in his veins.
The Devastation Around Them
Reality itself crumbled—not from the force of their attacks, but because their existence alone violated nature's order. Time fractured into hollow gates, swallowing unborn stars and pouring out the echoes of entities that should never have existed. The cosmic atmosphere exploded in a blast of destruction without sound, as if the universe screamed in silence.
Infinity Sword
In an instant, Anoby summoned his final manifestation: the Infinity Sword—a weapon with no form, no name, no describable origin. Pure elegance that defied all definition. The sword was a peak technique—blinding the eyes of gods, kicking the material zone beyond all limits. As it spun in the air, it tore through the threads of reality, dragging time's ripples into a destructive spiral.
With a single swing, the Infinity Sword cleaved not just Asmodeus's body, but every possible existence tied to him. His body split like sky cut by lightning, while time shattered and collapsed. The cracked throne fell, pillars broken… and the world that should've ended froze in a single grain of silence.
When "Victory" Becomes Deception
But Asmodeus only smiled. Though divine blood dripped, though Anoby's eyes blazed with triumph, Asmodeus stood like a teacher correcting a student.
"So perfect… And that's exactly why you failed."
In an instant, the world froze—not metaphorically, but literally. Wind stopped flowing, seconds no longer ticked, and every law of causality was locked in a divine script spread across a sky that wasn't a sky.
Asmodeus raised his hand and cracked the framework of the cosmos into a single primordial codex. In a flash brighter than a thousand stars, lines of code appeared:
[IF Protagonist = Success THEN Timeline = Denied.
IF Final Victory = True THEN Journey = Invalid.
IF Completion = Achieved THEN Regress = Mandatory.]
As Anoby looked up, his eyes still glowed—but the concept of victory had been erased. The meaning of "reaching the end" was ontologically canceled.
"You won, Anoby. But your victory… never happened."
Selective Erasure & Eternal Void
Suddenly, time screamed within the emptiness—not a rewind, not a flashback, but a selective erasure.
Dimensions folded back to zero point, before anything began. The world kept turning, events flowing as usual—but their memories were corrupted.
Memory Repossession
One by one, Anoby's memories were forcibly ripped away:
Love that once burned into fire.
Bonds that once tethered his soul.
Promises spoken through blood and tears.
All erased from his mind, locked in a keyless space. The heroines—those who once loved him through his curse, who fought by his side, who spilled blood to protect him—they still lived. But they no longer knew him. Scattered across planets, timelines, and original fates; still powerful, still dangerous, still extraordinary… but now mere shadows in dreams they couldn't understand.
And Anoby… returned to the beginning.
Reawakening in the First Dimension
He awoke on foreign soil—surrounded by an unfamiliar field of white flowers. The blue sky stared too plainly, too brightly for a soul that had tasted cosmic ruin. His body still radiated the echo of unrealized power, but his mind was empty—no name, no face, no home to return to.
One thing remained: a wound that felt like a fracture in his being—not a voice, not a memory—but something waiting to be awakened again.
In the distance, a white bird flew slowly, carrying a small letter that seemed untouched by the sins of time:
["Welcome back to the First Dimension, Anoby.
This time… you have to walk alone."]
And beneath that whispering silence, something—whether hope or curse—made the sky so quiet, it held back a thunder nearly ready to roar.
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(End of Prologue)