The tension in the room had thinned slightly after Guy's departure. His message had been clear: danger loomed beyond the veil of the known. But now, the weight shifted. All eyes turned to Varvatos, seated at the head of the obsidian table carved from cosmic stone, its surface pulsing faintly with divine runes.
He rose slowly, his long silver hair flowing like moonlight across his shoulders. His golden eyes, calm and ancient, surveyed his closest companions — Rimuru, Veldora, Diablo, Benimaru, Hakuro, Testarossa, Ultima, Carrera, Souei, Shuna, Shion, Gobta, and Rigur — all pillars of Nyvaris.
Varvatos:
"…Guy will do what he must. But so must I."
A quiet fell again. Rimuru straightened in his seat.
Rimuru:
"You're leaving."
Varvatos (nodding):
"Yes. I'm going to the edge of the universe — to the boundary where light fades and laws unravel."
Shuna (softly):
"Where… no one returns."
Varvatos:
"No mortal. No all gods either, not without risk. But if Noctis Nihilo truly doing what i think, if the tremors I've sensed are his shadow… then he's watching from there."
Shion (frowning):
"And you think you can find him?"
Varvatos:
"Maybe. Maybe not. But I must go and see. If we wait for him to move, it may already be too late."
Veldora:
"Hah! You always did have a flair for dramatic exits. But… you're serious this time."
Varvatos (smirking faintly):
"As serious as I've ever been."
Diablo:
"You plan to confront him?"
Varvatos:
"Not yet. Just meet him. Understand him. Or at the very least, witness the truth with my own eyes."
Ultima:
"And what do we do in the meantime?"
Varvatos:
"You guard Nyvaris and the cardinal world. Keep the balance. Let no kingdoms fall. Strengthen alliances. Let the people live without fear."
Benimaru (stepping forward):
"Then let us handle things here. You go see what waits in the dark."
Hakuro:
"We've prepared for many wars. But I suspect this one… will begin before the first sword is drawn."
Souei:
"I'll triple our surveillance. If even a ripple of chaos stirs, I'll know."
Carrera (grinning):
"Guess it's time we play defense for once."
Testarossa (coolly):
"And quietly sharpen the knives."
Shuna (to Rimuru):
"Will you be alright?"
Rimuru (nodding, then looking at Varvatos):
"Take your time, but don't vanish. There's too much we still need to learn — and too much depending on you."
Gobta (gulping):
"You'll come back, right? I mean… we kinda need you."
Varvatos (placing a hand on Gobta's head gently):
"I always return."
Under the night sky glittering with galaxies, Velzard and Elmesia stood atop the highest tower. They watched as Varvatos approached — his cloak trailing behind him like shadows woven from stardust.
Velzard:
"You're really doing this."
Varvatos (quietly):
"Yes."
Elmesia (reaching for his hand):
"And if you don't return?"
Varvatos (smiling faintly):
"Then I've taught enough for the rest of you to endure. But I will return. Because I want to. Because you are here."
Velzard stepped close, resting her head against his chest. Her breath was slow, steady.
Velzard:
"Noctis Nihilo… I never thought we will be facing such a threat. What do you hope to gain?"
Varvatos:
"Time. Knowledge. A glimpse of what stirs behind the veil. If he moves… I need to know where the winds will blow before the storm breaks."
Elmesia (softly):
"And if you find him?"
Varvatos (turning his gaze skyward):
"Then we'll know how long we have left."
He stepped back, his form beginning to glow with celestial magic — not light, but a kind of spatial distortion, like reality bending around him.
Varvatos:
"Keep the world safe. Until I return."
Then, with a silent pulse, Varvatos vanished — not with thunder or fire, but with the stillness of a star blinking out from a distant sky.
The Edge of the Universe — The Celestial Abyss.....
Beyond time, beyond dimension, beyond even the whispers of starlight — Varvatos emerged. The passage had not been easy. Space rippled unnaturally here. Even for one such as him, forged of ancient divinity, reality bled and warped at the boundary. Colors beyond comprehension folded inwards; stars decayed in silence; existence frayed like ancient parchment.
He stood on an invisible plane — a platform not of matter, but of will. Around him, the universe ended. No light, no dark — only Void Absolute, where laws unraveled and no soul dared tread.
And yet, in this timeless vacuum, someone awaited him.
A radiant presence shimmered into view, brighter than galaxies, older than creation. A figure stepped from nothingness — barefoot upon the unseen, clothed in robes made of eternity. His long silver hair drifted as if touched by the breath of creation itself, and his eyes shone like the first dawn.
Veldanava — the Origin. The God of Gods. The One Above All Creation.
Varvatos stood still, eyes meeting those of the Creator. Reverence warred with familiarity. He knelt briefly, more in respect than worship.
Varvatos:
"…It's been a long time, Veldanava."
Veldanava smiled gently. His voice echoed like a choir sung across the fabric of time.
Veldanava:
"Too long, old friend. Few dare walk this far anymore. Fewer return."
Varvatos rose.
"I came because of Noctis Nihilo."
Veldanava:
"Ah… so the shadow has stretched far enough to reach even you."
Varvatos:
"You knew he was real."
Veldanava (nodding slowly):
"Yes. I always did."
He turned, and with a motion of his hand, space itself unraveled to reveal visions — entire universes reduced to silence. Multiverses collapsing, their divine protectors falling, undone by a force that even gods could barely comprehend.
In the distance, a nebulous entity — Noctis Nihilo — devouring realities like a silent plague.
Veldanava:
"He has already erased thirteen universes. Their gods… gone. Their stars… forgotten. And he will come to yours soon."
Varvatos' gaze hardened.
Varvatos:
"Then why allow it? Why do nothing?"
Veldanava looked at him calmly. There was no cruelty in his eyes, only truth.
Veldanava:
"Because there is a law higher than intervention. Each universe has its Guardian, its Divine Keeper. I created them to watch, to build, to defend. If a god cannot protect what is theirs… then they were never worthy to hold it."
Varvatos:
"You created all of us. You could stop him with a word."
Veldanava:
"Perhaps. But that would defeat the purpose of creation itself. Power without trial is weakness dressed in gold. If I destroy Noctis for you, what lesson would remain for those who survive?"
Varvatos turned, hands clenched behind his back, staring into the void.
Varvatos:
"He's not a trial. He's annihilation. There's no redemption in what he brings."
Veldanava:
"I know. But I also know you, Varvatos. Among all gods, you were the one who sought understanding beyond power. You built Nyvaris, not as a throne, but as a beacon. You've gathered mortals, guided them, walked among them."
He stepped closer.
Veldanava:
"I am watching. But now… I'm counting on you."
Varvatos:
"You want me to stop him."
Veldanava:
"I want you to try. Because if you succeed, then your universe has earned the right to stand among the eternal. If you fail… then I will know that even you were not enough."
A long silence passed. Stars died in the distance, their echoes unheard.
Then Varvatos spoke, calm but resolute.
Varvatos:
"Then I'll go. I'll confront Nihilo. I'll see what he wants — if he can be reasoned with, if not…"
His golden eyes flared.
Varvatos:
"…I'll remind him that some universes do not kneel quietly."
Veldanava smiled — faintly, yet proudly.
Veldanava:
"Good. Then let destiny unfold as it must."
He raised his hand once more, and a symbol appeared in Varvatos' palm — a glowing sigil, ancient and sacred.
Veldanava:
"If you fall… this will awaken me."
Varvatos:
"…You're placing that burden on me?"
Veldanava:
"No. I'm giving you a choice."
The sigil pulsed once before fading into Varvatos' being, embedding deep within his soul.
Veldanava:
"Go. The edge is thin. He's near. And your world is counting on you."
Varvatos turned, his body now shimmering with divine symbols. He stepped away from Veldanava, toward the darkness beyond.
He would walk further. He would cross beyond the precipice — into the realms where Noctis Nihilo stirred, where hope flickered like a lone candle in an ocean of void.
And he would do so not as a king, not as a god, but as a guardian — one who had chosen to act when even the stars had learned to be silent.