First, nothing. Then, the All Creator. An existence before existence perfect in all aspects, but so terribly alone. Celestial Beings call the All Creator’s place of origin Zero–One, predating the multiverse ( What caused the uncaused first cause? Who, or what, created God? ).

Out of its loneliness, the All Creator created life, resulting in the creation of several cosmic beings, the power to do so in the undiminished fullness of its own infinite being. The All Creator was the vine, and its creations the branches; given the gift of creation, these cosmic beings bore much fruit.

The Divine Decree, they called themselves, were industrious and worshiped the All Creator, seeking its approval whenever they created life on their own. The Voluntary Decision, an opposing faction, wanted their creations to evolve and for the All Creator to evolve with them, and thus know growth, change, and mortality. Would it not be beautiful if the All Creator was allowed to live? To laugh often, to love, to lose, to go the way that all flesh does? The Divine Decree were appalled. No, the All Creator cannot die. The All Creator is immutable. The All Creator is Wholly Other. We die, but the All Creator does not. This is one of many contrasts between creature and Creator.

The Divine Decree thought the Voluntary Decision mad, and so began the first Celestial War, a battle for dominion of all existence. Caught in the crossfire of its creations’ war, the All Creator was shattered into infinite pieces—from itself the multiverse born. What remained of the All Creator fled to the edge of existence and became the core of a planet that would later come to be known as ‘Spectra.’

The All Creator is the progenitor of Celestial Beings. Their cosmic weapons, the Summoners, are given its wisdom, unlimited strength, and eternal nature. The All Creator flows through the Summoners, and with the power of the All Creator at their disposal, they are able to do immeasurably more than what Celestial Beings could ever imagine. The impossible is impossible, but not with the Summoners, not with the All Creator. They will thwart the impossible, the eldritch, the beyond comprehension, the divine and the unimaginable. There is no imperfection or limitation in the All Creator. All else can pass away in an instant; the All Creator inevitably exists forever.

The leaders of the Divine Decree and the Voluntary Decision live on, Alpha and Omega respectively, twins of opposing power who, to honour the fragmentation of the All Creator, created the First Universe. The First Universe is not of the All Creator, but is allowed to exist within it—surely their act of creation was approved by the All Creator itself. Alpha brought law and order to the First Universe, whereas Omega introduced chaos, the void between the stars, writhing matter coiling about in the unknown, defiance, disorder. Two halves of a whole.

Confident in their decision, the First People were born, made in Alpha and Omega’s image: the Nulleq, they called them. Gifted with unbreakable horns and conceptual energies flowing through visible, glowing marks upon their bodies, they live in peace on a planet Alpha named after himself, ignorant to the truth of their beginnings. They do not know about the All Creator. They do not know Alpha, believing Omega to be favored by the All Creator, rose against and slew his brother, corrupting him, casting him to the furthest reaches of their universe.

Alpha, the First Murderer, sits on his throne, contemplating the death of his brother and the persistence of his corpse. This betrayal marked the second Celestial War, and though not as severe as the first, has been going on for eons. Alpha’s children are born into this conflict, cursed to fight against Omega and his forces. There is no foreseeable end; Alpha considers the second Celestial War a punishment given by the All Creator, but an inconsequential one at best. As long as his children continue to give their all, Omega will never usurp him. Some of them have died, but died knowing it was a sacrifice they had to make for the First Universe, for Alpha.

A Nulleq woman with red hair and fiery eyes stumbles into his abode, holding the Eye of the Universe close to her chest, a circular mirror that gives its chosen keeper omniscience. She is nervous, her glasses crooked, gasping for air—she must have run all the way here. Alpha arches a brow, but remains indifferent to her labored breaths. He wants her to explain herself, nothing more, nothing less.

“Yes, Wednesday?” Alpha is a master of emotion, majestic in manner and appearance. His charisma is enormous. Of imposing dignity, he rises from his throne and towers over the much shorter woman, his long, lustrous, silver hair carried gently by a mysterious, all-present current. Wednesday has to crane her neck to look up at him. “This must be important, I imagine. Have you news of Omega to share?” He is only responding as he thinks a mildly-concerned leader should, but he could not be more uninterested in matters concerning his brother. As it stands Omega is unfellable, whatever his people do to oppose him will not matter.

Even in death does Omega have the All Creator’s explicit blessing. It’s not fair. It should be him.

“My Lord!” Wednesday adjusts herself the moment she hears the rich baritones of Alpha’s voice, but in doing so she almost drops the Eye, struggling to catch it. She was always a clumsy girl; Alpha does not know why the Eye of the Universe chose her as its bearer when she nearly drops it every hour, on the hour. “We have guests from beyond the stars. Shall I let them in?”

About her lips there plays an eager trembling. It is not often Alpha has guests, as he is not the most… ‘friendliest’ man. He is someone to admire, someone to worship, someone to protect until the bitter end. When he meets with others it is strictly business, he has neither the time nor the want to make friends. There are those he deems worthy—like Ozymandias, the King of the Draegon, or Ragnarøkkr, the Doom of the Gods—but the former rarely meets Alpha in person, and the latter does not visit at all. “The mirror tells me they are not of the First, but has nothing else to offer. It would seem its omniscience is not enough to tell us who these people are.”

Alpha looks sharply at her, a twinge of fear surging through him. He is both angry at Wednesday for being so careless, and anxious concerning the identity of his guests. “Who are they?” he demands, his voice commanding. Wednesday almost drops the Eye again. “What do they look like?” She squeaks beneath the weight of his gaze. Alpha is not one to give into the turbulence of strong emotions, he prides himself on being unflappable even in the most chaotic circumstances, known for how he stays calm in a crisis. This is not the Lord she has served for millennia. “Well? Do you know anything, girl? Come, out with it, the very fate of our world hinges on your words!” He has never been one to exaggerate and there is urgency in his tone. She holds the Eye tighter as she struggles to find the words to describe his guests.

“I am sorry, My Lord. I do not think I can.” …But how does one describe the indescribable? Of there being two figures Wednesday is certain, but one of them was blindly radiant, as if she would explode just looking at them. Infinite holiness pervaded their entire being and shaped all their attributes. She does not remember how they look, only how she felt in their presence. It was terrifying, their holiness an uncompromising purity, a disturbing dedication to what is good and right, a violent sacredness. They were breathtakingly abhorrent, divinely horrifying; Wednesday was reminded of all her imperfections the moment they met. “Light… There was so much light, My Lord,” she adds quietly, her words coloured by awe. “They illuminated all. They were life itself. They were light. The ultimate light. Never had I felt so… so warm.”

A frown tugs at Alpha’s lips. “…Go on.”

“And how wonderful they were! How good! The source of goodness! They are separate from the rest of creation. Eternally incorruptible.” Her last words trigger his fight-or-flight response. “And their voice was like angels making love, ah, so soft, so ethereal. Like nothing I’ve ever heard before. It was feathered. And they were invariably courteous and soft-spoken. They called you ‘Alphie’ when they requested to see you.”

“Silly girl, that was the Echonianetic! Do you have any idea of what you have done? What you have wrought upon our world! Did you at least bow? Did you show even a modicum of respect?!”

“N-no My Lord. Should I have?”

“You do not understand. The one that called me ‘Alphie’ is the multiversal manifestation of life! The creator and sustainer of all that exists! Everything owes itself to her. Whatsoever is, is in Clotho, and without Clotho nothing can be conceived!”

“But that’s…” Blasphemy, she wants to say. “You created our universe, My Lord. Not this… Clotho.”

“Clotho allowed me to create our universe. She is more the All Creator than our universe can bear!” Alpha paces around before coming to an abrupt stop in front of Wednesday, whom he startles into almost dropping the Eye. He then begins to count down on three fingers. “Listen closely, Wednesday. There are three multiversal manifestations, the Umbrakinetic, the Echonianetic, and the Anti-Type. They are the strongest beings in the multiverse! And Clotho is the strongest among them!”

Wednesday cannot fathom anyone being more powerful than her Lord. He is the Almighty, the Glorious Sword, her King and God. To see him admit his inferiority so frankly, to not just one person but three—it is completely baffling. “You let Clotho win you over with her ‘goodness,’ but she is indifferent to life and even the multiverse itself!” He is shaking now. In an attempt to steady himself, he leans into a wall and hangs his head down low. “Clotho is much older than I, but she approaches things in much the same manner a child would. She cannot understand how horrible it is to erase trillions of lives in a single universe.”

Wednesday, concerned for Alpha, quietly makes her way over to him. Her first instinct is to give him a hug, but she does not know if that will send him into further hysterics. Instead, she holds the Eye with one hand and pats him on the back. “The way you talk about her, this Clotho, makes it sound like she could destroy our universe in an instant.”

“Because she can!” comes his quick reply, turning passionately on his heel to face her. “And there is nothing we can do about it! She is the purest form of the All Creator pre-split. She can annihilate anything on all levels just by thinking about it. I watched her not only destroy multiple universes, but an entire timeline as well, just because she could.”

Wednesday gulps, pressing the Eye of the Universe closer to her chest. “I understand now. She is beyond you, beyond our universe, but… How did you come to be acquainted with such an individual?”

He falls silent recalling the moment he met Clotho. He sensed her before he saw her, and mistook her for the All Creator. Finally, he thought, the All Creator has at last noticed me and has grown tired of my brother. His heart swelled, and an inexplicable weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He was ready to leave his life in the First behind—his children, his wife, his subjects—to join what he assumed to be a whole All Creator that pieced itself together, signaling the end of the multiverse. He wanted to live the rest of his days in Zero–One as the All Creator’s most favored. He had been ready to receive Clotho with open arms. One cannot imagine his sadness when he realized she was not who he thought. But she was close. Too close. An aspect of the All Creator, but one that would not be ignored or cast aside as part of the whole.

“Clotho is attracted to powerful people,” he begins, regaining his composure. That Clotho thought him strong enough to reveal herself to him always makes him feel better. “Her omniscience extends far beyond that of your mirror. Your Eye is bound to the First. Clotho’s omniscience spans the multiverse.” Wednesday struggles to comprehend his words. As if pacifying the Eye of the Universe, she gives it a few loving strokes along its rim. “There are things even she cannot see, however. My fate is one of them. It is the same for my brother. I assume we are the only two in the multiverse that pose this problem for her.” But she chose me instead of Omega.

From Wednesday comes a cheerful hum. “Clotho adores you, then. We have no need to worry, My Lord.”

“Hush. Clotho has a temper. Love does not exempt anyone from it.”

Clotho’s all-powerful holiness pours from her like an energy when she and her companion appear in front of Alpha and Wednesday with no warning whatsoever. She is immaculate, clad in black with a halo atop her hydrangea-adorned head and an even bigger one at her feet. She comes to them in the form of a svelte woman shorter than even Wednesday herself. Everything about her glows, her eyes, her horns; her fingers are fitted with jewelry that make her nails appear much longer than they are, her cheeks adorned with glittering stars. She is holy thrice over.

“Alphie!” Excitement overtakes Clotho; she goes from being the strongest in the multiverse to squealing like a schoolgirl. “You’re funny, and I like funny.” With her hands behind her back, she smiles sweetly at him.

“You carry your loneliness around like an anchor. You look so heavy. Westward ho! Land ho!” With her hands pressed against her stomach she laughs heartily, throwing her head back. “A down-in-th’-dumps first mate will ne’er do when we’ve got plenty o’ adventures t’ go on.” She skips towards Alpha, twirling about and suddenly falling into him. He catches her, not because she could have hurt herself, but because her impact with the floor could have destroyed his planet. Pleased that he catches her, she snuggles against him. “That was close, wasn’t it?”

Alpha’s limbs are quaking. He is engulfed by a wave of gratitude, abasement and fear. He wants to fling himself on his knees and thank Clotho blabberingly for deigning to notice him. The All Creator never did.

It’s been so long since he felt alive in his skin. He can only recall feeling hungry before meeting Clotho. Only empty, and greedy, and insatiable. Vacant and ghostly and content with death. Wronged, ruined, next after the best. But then she puts her hands against the arm that caught her and he feels enveloped by a thousand eyes, noses, fingers, and legs. He feels wanted.

“Most Holy.” He thirsts for her. His whole being longs for her, in a dry and parched land where there is no water. With all his inmost being, he praises her name. Says it in earnest. “I was not expecting you. Are you here to play?”

Clotho taps an index finger against her cheek and thinks hard about his question. “Well…” she begins, taking her blue gaze around his throne room, “I do want to play…” Her voice trails off as she presses her lips into a pout and separates herself from Alpha.

“But Kohana’s here, so I have to be serious!” He has heard Clotho speak that name before. ‘Kohana’ is her latest obsession, and he is an oh so jealous man. When Clotho would babble on about her, he would only half-listen. “You remember Kohana, don’t you? She’s really really, really really really really powerful.” It takes everything in him not to roll his eyes. Kohana is nothing but measly entertainment to Clotho, a new toy for her to play with that she will soon grow bored of. She will never take a permanent place by Clotho’s side. She is not worthy enough to walk in the All Creator’s light. “She’s Spectra’s General. You remember her, don’t you? Don’t you?” Another look, then. He wants to know what makes her so special.

Kohana is pure Eros, not at all like the fearsome warrior Clotho prattled on about. Long hair, bedroom eyes, cheeks like wine, two enormous dimples at the base of her spine. No weapon, but she smells faintly of magic. He has met toddlers stronger than this woman. “Kohana has fought wars across the multiverse. Without her, you would have ceased to exist a long time ago. That would have made me sad. You owe a lot to her, Alpha.”

“This is that Kohana?” He is unimpressed, his tone flat. “Exaggeration is unbecoming, Most Holy. Is it from her you learned this… habit?”

“Yes, I am she. In the flesh.” Kohana takes control of the room, advancing towards Alpha with the slyness and cruelty of a cat. “Worry less about Clotho, and more about me. An atom of my body is more important than your entire existence, Alpha.”

Curious about Kohana’s claim, Wednesday points the Eye of the Universe towards her. It is safe for Wednesday to assume Kohana is not like Clotho, as Alpha said there were only three people in the multiverse that were stronger than him, and Kohana was not listed among them. The Eye, straining to know everything about Kohana, not only fails to work as it did upon Clotho, but instantly shatters. Horrified, Wednesday falls to her knees. She is scrambling to recover the Eye’s pieces, desperate, even. It is ancient and all-powerful, a necessary tool in the war against Omega. Without the Eye, the First Universe is doomed.

“Oh please. Don’t bother.” Folding her arms, Kohana begins walking towards Alpha’s distraught handmaiden. He watches her like a hawk. “That trinket pales horribly to Clotho’s power. Clotho knows anything and everything, infinitely, but I am immune to omniscience.”

No one is immune to the All Creator’s omniscience, that’s absurd. There are only some things Clotho does not know about Alpha, and this strange woman claims Clotho knows nothing about her at all? Alpha looks towards Clotho for answers, but she is overwhelmed with happiness at Kohana’s words. Her eyes are full of stars, she thinks highly of her. “I will not waste time introducing myself. Spectra is interested in forming alliances with planets that can handle multiversal threats. Clotho recommended I seek your help.”

“My Lord, maybe all we needed was Kohana to end this war… Maybe…” Wednesday’s words are barely a whisper. “Clotho must have brought her to us because she is our salvation. We cannot thank her enough for this gift.”

“And what do I get out of this?” Alpha’s interests always come first. He ignores everything else. “My universe is in the middle of a war.” Kohana is more interested in Wednesday than replying to Alpha. She takes Wednesday’s trembling hands into her own and helps her stand up. “You would do well to watch your mouth, Kohana. You will find that my planet is not useless. I will have you turned inside out for your insolence.” Oh, but she has ravaged kingdoms with that mouth, laid waste to armies with that mouth, swallowed gods with that mouth. Her mouth is dangerous, a universe-destroying weapon in and of itself.

Kohana brushes some of Wednesday’s hair away from her cheek and smiles gently, relieved that she is not hurt. She pulls away with a promise: I’ll deal with you later.

Focusing her attention on Alpha, Kohana’s expression quickly changes to that of a scowl. “Have me ‘turned inside out?’ You mean, you won’t do it yourself? How disappointing. If the multiverse is destroyed, your universe will be too, idiot. It’s within your best interests to align with us. Or you can die. I don’t really care.”

He would be a fool to dismiss her as he cannot even begin to comprehend her power. She is not from Zero–One, and he cannot sense the All Creator within her, yet she is even impossible for Clotho to understand. This Kohana is quite the conundrum; perhaps she is what he needed. “I did not come here to argue with a stubborn man. I’ve extended my hand. Take it.” The cat-like slits in her eyes intensify, her words sulphuric acid. She claims indifference, yet demands he let her help him.

Instead of being frustrated at Kohana, he thinks of all the ways he could use her to his advantage. She knows nothing about Omega, she would see him as just another target. “Could you defeat someone who is undefeatable? Could you end an endless war?” He will suffer an unbearable woman if that is what it takes to irreversibly remove Omega from the multiverse.

“Of course she can! Is that what you want? Consider it done!” Clotho answers Alpha for her, cheerful, all smiles. She makes it sound like Kohana doing the impossible is something she does often. “Oh, I can’t wait for you to see her do what she does best! Kohana is amazing, spectacular! You won’t regret this!”