Myth Beyond Heaven

“NO!” Yin roared, understanding dawning. He struggled with insane fury, lashing out with waves of nothingness that could unmake galaxies. But the seals, fueled by the Creator’s transcendent power and the paradoxical energy of her counterattack, held firm. They absorbed his struggles, using his own power to reinforce the prison.

“You cannot do this! I AM UNCREATION! I WILL NOT BE CAGED!” he screamed, his form distorting as the seals tightened around him.

“The balance will be maintained,” the Creator stated, her voice beginning to show strain. “But it will be maintained on my terms. Your influence ends here.”

She gestured, and a massive, ancient stone gate materialized in the deepest, most remote void of the universe—the Gate of the Abyss. Its surface was blank, devoid of any ornamentation, radiating an aura of absolute finality and isolation.

With a final, immense effort, she pushed Yin’s sealed form towards the gate. “I banish you! Until the end of time itself, you shall remain behind this gate!”

Yin’s curses were cut off as the Gate of the Abyss swung open, revealing not a space, but an absolute absence of everything. It was a pocket dimension of perfect nothingness, a void within the void. The seals dragged him in.

“THIS IS NOT OVER!” was his final, echoing shriek before the massive gate slammed shut with a sound that sealed fate itself. The lock, a complex mechanism of primordial light, clicked into place.

Silence returned to the universe.

The Creator hovered before the sealed gate, her radiant form dimmed significantly. The effort had cost her dearly. She took a moment, gathering herself, then turned her attention to the cosmos.

The remnants of Yin’s influence were everywhere—the fanatical cults, the corrupted worlds, the lingering despair.

She raised her hands, and a wave of gentle, purifying light washed across the entire universe. It did not erase memory, but it cleansed the spiritual corruption, soothing the fanatical rage of the Heralds and easing the traumatized fear of the Children of Light. The whispers from the void fell silent.

As eons passed, the universe began to heal. The ideological war faded into history, then into myth. Civilizations rose and fell without divine interference. The atmosphere returned to a state of natural balance, where light and darkness existed not as opposing armies, but as the natural cycle of day and night, life and death.

But the Creator knew this peace was fragile, temporary. She had not destroyed Yin; she had only imprisoned him. The imbalance remained. And she was weary, her power diminished from the epic conflict and the sealing.

She needed stewards. She needed a system to maintain the balance in her stead, to prevent such a catastrophe from ever happening again.

Standing at the center of creation, she made her decision. She would divide her power.

With a thought, she began. Her magnificent form glowed with unbearable intensity, and then she split.

Thirteen streams of radiant light shot out from her, each containing a fragment of her primordial power and a specific aspect of creation. These streams coalesced into thirteen distinct forms, the first gods born of her essence—the Thirteen Primordial Gods.

Nian Shi, the God of Time.

Yang Jian, the Sun God.

Yue Bingyao, the Moon God.

Xing Shen, the Star God.

Shan Yu, the Mountain God.

Jiang Chen, the River God.

Xi Yao, the God of Light.

Yao Ke, the God of Darkness.

Si Wang, the God of Death.

Tai Ying, the God of Life.

Fan Ren, the God of Mortals.

Tian Wudi, the God of Heaven.

Yun Tianming, the God of Fate.

The thirteen new gods bowed before their creator, their auras shining with newfound power and purpose.

The Creator looked upon them, her form now faint, her voice soft with exhaustion. “The balance is in your hands now. Protect it. Nurture it. Do not let the darkness be forgotten, but do not let it consume the light.”

With her final duty done, the Creator fell into a slumber in the Land of Nowhere. Follow current novels on novel⦿fire.net

Deep within his meditative state, Yun Lintian was oblivious to the grand events unfolding outside. The creation of the Primordial Gods, the slumber of the Creator—these cosmic shifts registered not at all in his consciousness. His entire being was focused inward, consumed by the profound lesson he had just witnessed.

His mind was a whirlwind of revelation, replaying every moment of the primordial conflict. He didn’t see the Creator and Yin as combatants anymore; he saw them as the ultimate teachers, demonstrating the absolute principles of their respective domains.

The Final Silence… he mused, his spirit trembling with insight. Yin didn’t just create nothingness; he enforced the concept of absolute ending. It was a law, not an attack.

And the Creator… she didn’t oppose it. She used its perfection as a foundation. She didn’t create something from nothing; she allowed the first ‘something’ to be born from the acknowledgment of ‘nothing.’

He was deconstructing the very fabric of their power, moving beyond simple energy manipulation to understanding the underlying truths of existence and non-existence. This was a comprehension that went to the root of all things.

My Profound Vein… he realized, a new understanding dawning. It’s not just a vessel for power. It’s a microcosm. A tiny universe within me that can hold both truths. I don’t need to choose between creation and uncreation. I need to become the space where both can exist, where both can be understood, and where both can be balanced.

This epiphany was the key. He had been trying to wield the two forces, to control them as separate entities. But the true mastery, as demonstrated by the Creator in her final move, was to embody the transition between them, to be the bridge that connected beginning and end.

While he was lost in this world-shattering comprehension, the external battle between Nian Shi and Yin raged on with cold, calculated fury.

Their clash was a silent, terrifying ballet of opposing laws.

Yin would lash out with tendrils of void that sought to sever Nian Shi’s connection to his other timelines.

Nian Shi would weave his temporal copies into a shield, each copy sacrificing itself to absorb the unmaking energy, preserving the prime.

They would push against each other, one gaining a slight advantage before the other countered, the tide turning back and forth in a seamless, endless loop.

Then, abruptly, Yin disengaged. He took a step back, the void around him stilling. The relentless assault ceased.

Nian Shi paused, his Blade of Eternity held at the ready, his silver eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Tiring already?” he sneered, though he knew it wasn’t true.

Yin chuckled, a low, dry sound. “This is getting tedious, Timekeeper. A spectacular waste of both our time. You want the boy. I want… well, various things that are currently behind that irritating barrier.”

He gestured with a pale hand towards the magnificent, multi-layered dome protecting Yun Lintian. “I can help you break it.”