Beyond Time. Beyond Matter. Beyond Meaning.
The void beyond the edge of the universe rippled like liquid reality. Stars bent. Light wept. And from the place where even divine perception failed—a form returned.
A being of infinite gravity and serene wrath.
Varvatos.
He descended from the silent breach between realms, his body aglow with threads of cosmic light. His eyes—like twin galaxies in stillness—surveyed the infinite veil of the Cardinal World from just outside its perimeter.
Before the first breath of wind stirred within the world he had once guided, he raised a single hand.
From his palm flowed a radiant surge of Aetherial Dominion—a torrent of divine authority more vast than a hundred dimensions. Reality itself trembled as it responded to its creator.
A voice echoed across existence. Calm. Timeless. Unstoppable.
Varvatos:
"Let all the stars bear witness. By my name, by my soul—I declare this realm under Absolute Sanctum."
And so it began.
A vast, celestial barrier bloomed—greater than the concepts of size or direction could describe. It spiraled outward in slow elegance, spanning the multiverse-tiered perimeter of the Cardinal World, creating not just a shield, but a dimensional fortress, anchored at every axis of reality.
But Varvatos was not finished.
He floated above the universe, hand extended as his divine will sculpted guardians—Wardens of the Edge, forged from pure essence and concept.
At the Northern Expanse, he conjured Aurgaleth, a draconic behemoth carved from dying stars and frozen time.
At the Southern Reach, he formed Velomir, a being of ten thousand swords wrapped in a storm of judgment.
At the Eastern Gate, he birthed Sylmarein, a celestial serpent of mirrored void that saw into all possibilities.
At the Western Abyss, he summoned Gorvantis, a colossus of shadowfire and faithless light, its heart a living singularity.
Each bowed its head as it awakened, infused with the will to stand guard, to intercept anything from beyond.
With a soft sigh, Varvatos whispered.
Varvatos:
"Stand. Watch. If Noctis comes… you shall be the first storm he faces."
And the guardians vanished into their designated places—watchful, eternal.
Only then did Varvatos turn, descending gently back into his creation.
The city of Nyvaris, jewel of the Cardinal World, was alight with divine anticipation. From the high peaks of the Silverlight Towers to the shimmering lakes of mirrorsteel, its people gathered in respectful silence, gazing at the heavens.
From the center plaza, crowned by the Throne of Eternity, the great ones stood.
Velzard, the White Ice Dragon, regal and soft-eyed, her heart quietly pounding.
Elmesia, Empress of Magic, wearing her most elegant regalia, barely hiding the quiver of joy in her lips.
Rimuru, smiling with quiet pride, arms folded.
Veldora, bouncing on his heels. "He's coming! I can feel it! Big brother's back!"
Diablo, kneeling with one hand over his chest, smiling with reverence.
Benimaru, Hakuro, Shion, Shuna, Gobta, Rigur—all gathered in rows, eyes toward the sky.
Testarossa, Ultima, and Carrera, standing tall with graceful composure, feeling the divine pressure draw near.
Then—the air rippled.
Like dawn banishing night, the skies bloomed with violet and silver light as Varvatos appeared in midair, descending with an aura so profound that the world itself seemed to hum a melody in welcome.
No trumpets. No thunder. Just a silence too holy to interrupt.
As his feet touched the marble of Nyvaris' plaza, everyone bowed.
Not out of fear.
Out of love.
Velzard stepped forward first, eyes misty.
Velzard:
"You've returned…."
Varvatos met her gaze, a rare smile touching his lips.
Varvatos:
"I have. And I missed you."
She stepped into his arms with no hesitation, burying her face against his chest.
Elmesia followed, more composed but no less moved.
Elmesia:
"I prepared a hundred scenarios for your return. None felt worthy."
Varvatos:
"This… is more than enough."
He turned then to Rimuru, who stepped forward, his expression serious.
Rimuru:
"You've seen it, haven't you?"
Varvatos:
"Yes. Noctis Nihilo is real. And he is coming."
A murmur ran through the crowd, but Varvatos raised a hand.
Varvatos:
"Fear not. This world shall not fall while I breathe."
Veldora, practically bouncing:
"Did you fight him? Was he cool? Did he say ominous things like 'I am the void'?!"
Varvatos chuckled lightly.
Varvatos:
"He was everything the void dreams of being."
Benimaru:
"What's our next step, my lord?"
Varvatos, his voice now ringing with command:
"Prepare. All of you. I have sealed the boundaries of the universe and placed my creations to guard them. But I fear the true battle will begin here, in our world. Noctis will send his children… and they will be unlike anything we have faced."
Diablo, dark eyes glittering:
"Then let them come. I've waited an eternity for a worthy prey."
Testarossa:
"Let us stain the land with their unworthy blood."
Shion, flexing:
"Finally! Something to punch that won't just splat!"
Laughter rose, quiet but real. Despite the gravity, hope bloomed.
Varvatos looked across the plaza—at the people, the cities, the lights of life.
His voice rang once more.
Varvatos:
"I will not let Nihilo consume this universe. Not this one. Not mine."
He turned to Velzard and Elmesia, then to Rimuru, Veldora, and the rest.
Varvatos:
"You are my light. You are the proof that this world is worth saving."
And in the distance, beyond the edge of sight—something stirred.
The veil between realms thinned.
In the following days....
Maps had been laid. Plans had been voiced. Magic formations, strategies, rally points—all spoken, all analyzed.
But now, the tempo slowed. The voices around the great obsidian table—so full of conviction only moments earlier—began to still.
All eyes turned toward Varvatos, who sat unmoved, like a god-shaped mountain of fate. His fingers were laced together beneath his chin, eyes closed, as if contemplating not just the moment—but the very structure of the cosmos.
Then, at last, Rimuru broke the silence, stepping forward with all the dignity of his crown. His tone was respectful, but carried the weight of responsibility.
Rimuru:
"Varvatos… we've spoken of barriers, armies, skies, and spirits. But if what you've said of Noctis Nihilo is true… then what can we truly do to prepare? What role do we even play in this war?"
There was a pause.
Benimaru followed.
"My Crimson Guard awaits your command. But… are we even capable of resisting such a presence?"
Diablo, ever composed, eyes glowing with infernal focus:
"I have seen many strong entities fall. But this—what you described—it is not war. It is erasure. If even a fraction of what you say is real, then we… we are preparing firewood for a hurricane."
Shion, gripping her greatsword tightly:
"I don't care if I die. But if I'm to die… I want it to mean something."
Hakuro, voice low:
"Tell us what we can do. Even if it's just a spark in the dark… we must do something."
The question—the fear—hung in the air like mist. And finally, Varvatos opened his eyes.
Eyes that had seen countless worlds and countless ends.
His voice was deep and vast, like the toll of a divine bell.
Varvatos:
"…You cannot prepare for Noctis Nihilo."
His words struck like a hammer on sacred stone.
Varvatos (calm, absolute):
"When he arrives, your wards will burn. Your steel will bend. Your hearts may collapse beneath the weight of his presence alone. He is not a foe. He is the whisper of the end itself. His aura is entropy made flesh. None of you—not even my finest generals—could withstand it."
The hall grew still.
Even the fire at the center of the chamber dimmed slightly, responding to the shift in divinity.
Shuna, softly:
"Then… what hope is there?"
Varvatos did not hesitate.
Varvatos:
"Hope is not in defeating him… That is why I have taken measures far beyond your sight. Your role—each of you—is to safeguard the people, should his legions breach the edge."
Rimuru's voice regained firmness.
"So we defend the gate. While you fight the void."
Varvatos:
"Exactly. But first—see what you are truly standing beneath."
Varvatos stood.
He raised one hand toward the starlit dome above. His fingers came together. A single, resounding snap echoed—not loud, but with impossible depth, like the sound of a star being born.
Suddenly, reality peeled open above them like a curtain drawn from heaven.
Gasps escaped every throat. Even the seasoned Demon Lords rose from their chairs in awe.
Through the divine fissure, they saw it—a panoramic vision of the entire universe. Not as mortals see it, but as a Sovereign perceives it: vast, interwoven threads of fate and mana, bending in the cosmic sea.
Encasing it all…
The Barrier.
A titanic lattice of living golden light, humming with celestial sigils that rotated like gears of creation. It stretched across stars, galaxies, beyond the veil of dimensions—a sphere so impossibly massive that even divine beings struggled to comprehend its scale.
It pulsed not like magic… but like eternity.
Veldora, breathless:
"By the stars… it's alive…"
Elmesia, voice trembling:
"This… this is no barrier. This is a divine exoskeleton. A whole structure of metaphysical law… wrapped around creation…"
Velzard, blinking in disbelief:
"You crafted this alone?"
Varvatos, his voice layered with distant cosmic echoes:
"I named it the Aegis Eternum. It will be the first shell of defense against Noctis Nihilo. Not even his essence can casually pierce it."
And then, the vision shifted again.
At the farthest ends of the barrier—where time thinned and space trembled—they appeared.
From the darkness beyond stars, seven colossal forms materialized—one at each axis of the universal sphere.
Each beast shimmered with overwhelming divinity, forged from the bones of collapsed stars, memories of ancient gods, and the will of Varvatos himself.
One breathed fire that aged time itself.
Another had wings that bent constellations.
A third had a face made of mirrors, reflecting possible futures back at its foes.
One had a thousand swords floating behind its ethereal spine, each one singing with fate.
One was a snake so vast it curled around entire dimensions.
Another was cloaked in light and shadow simultaneously—the Judgment Beast.
The final… was merely still. But in its stillness lay death. Absolute and irrefutable.
Testarossa, awe-struck:
"I… I can't feel their energy. It's beyond measurement. It's like they are the law…"
Ultima, whispering:
"They aren't alive… they're something older than life."
Carrera, stepping back:
"If these things moved toward a world… there wouldn't even be dust left."
Varvatos, calmly:
"These are the Warden Beasts. Each stands at a point along the outer rim of the universe. They do not sleep. They do not speak. They exist only to act as the first layer of denial to any who seek entry."
Rimuru, mouth slightly agape:
"You created all this… by yourself?"
Varvatos, solemn:
" I shaped them with my soul. I gave them life from my essence. They are my echo, left to roar."
As the vision faded and the dome resealed, silence fell over the chamber once again.
But it was not the silence of despair.
It was awe.
Diablo, softly:
"...If this is the scale of preparation… then I will not falter in mine."
Rimuru, standing straight:
"Then let us be the shield inside your shield. The sword drawn when they try to breach."
Varvatos nodded, and a flicker of warmth—faint, but real—glimmered in his cosmic eyes.
Varvatos:
"Then let us begin. Let us see the edge of your resolve."