There was no sound when it all began. Only a crack, subtle, barely audible, appeared at the center of the Level Space, in its deepest layer, where the most ancient anomalies slumbered, where time spiraled erratically, and the concept of "time" itself was merely considered a design flaw of a greater reality.
It was there that three ancient wills awakened.
Banaspati, the Fire God of the Energy Vortex, ignited without light, burning existence before it could even realize itself.
Leak Ragda, the Demon King of the unwritten reality, brought emptiness as his primary language.
Garuda, the Sky God who rejected the law of gravity, tore through the heavens not to fly, but to reconstruct the meaning of height.
They did not arrive together by meeting. They emerged because the cosmos could no longer endure their separation. And when the three stood united at one point of existence…
The Level Space exploded.
Not an explosion of energy, but of structure.
Layer by layer lost its boundary. Impossible Class anomalies emerged freely, glitches spread to the edges of logic, and the laws of existence began to clash and overwrite one another. What was once called reality had now become a war of possibilities.
The Broken Storage, long a mere dumping ground, began to respond. Fragments of shattered reality awoke and forged weapons from errors and reversed logic, joining in the chaos. Deleted data reshaped themselves into new creatures, an army of existential monsters without names.
The Void, once passive and silent, began to throb. Not as a reaction, but as passive chaos too powerful to remain still. Even nothingness began to resist.
As the conflict bled into the Real World, humans and anomalies lost their grasp on reality. Time was no longer linear. Memories became the future, and the future became an unwritten story. Readers began to dream of this battle, and their dreams rewrote history before it happened.
The Storage, once a tower of absolute documentation and archiving, began to fracture from within. The Cripty Supervisor, in his cold fury, unsheathed the pen of the ninth dimension and attempted to erase the Trinity through meta-narrative records.
"One name forgotten, and reality forgets with it."
"One paragraph closed, and the cosmos ceases to read."
But entities born before meaning cannot be rewritten. The Cripty Pen broke, not physically, but narratively. Even sentences could no longer contain them.
And finally, the Circle of Darkness responded.
The darkness, once a mere observer, began to weep. Its ancient entities, The Cruelty Knight still asleep then, moved to protect the borders of silence. They did not save the world. They merely refused to be defined by this battle.
Existential waves of that war rippled through Heaven and Hell.
In Heaven, the archangels lost their direction. Their light flickered, signaling uncertainty.
In Hell, pain fell silent. Demons screamed not from torment, but because the very meaning of suffering no longer made sense.
The highest polarities of reality's moral system could no longer explain their purpose. For the chaos of the Trinity was not about right or wrong, but about the collapse of the line between the two.
Even the Realms of Transcendental began to stir. Primordial gods and goddesses took notice, and one of them spoke:
"If this is not the end, then the end itself must be rewritten."
And as the point of destruction reached its peak, when existence began to melt across nine realms simultaneously…
He came.
The Cruelty Knight.
He did not appear. He did not descend. He was remembered by reality itself, like a wound that never healed. He was the first tremor before everything named itself.
His steps froze the Circle of Darkness.
His presence silenced the Real World.
And the Trinity... watched.
Banaspati burned the void to stop him. But the Cruelty Knight could not be burned, he never had a form.
Garuda rewound the skies, reversing causality. But the Cruelty Knight was never caused.
Leak Ragda tried to erase him from the script of existence. But the Cruelty Knight was the blank line written by the void itself.
"You are not the apex.
You are merely post-will waves that never learned when to stop."
The Cruelty Knight
And with a single motion, not of sword, not of power, but of silence, he destroyed their metaphysical forms.
Banaspati vaporized into sparks between narratives.
Garuda folded into spacetime and fell asleep in silence.
Leak Ragda vanished, and all who remembered him only felt... as if something indescribable had been lost.
When all was over, the world was quiet not in peace, but in paralysis.
The Cripty Supervisor, narratively wounded, rewrote what was left.
The Ancient Book recorded fragments of the battle as a hidden chapter.
"When the uncountable sought to conquer all, it was silence that closed the book."
The nine realms stabilized.
But they did not forget.
The battle of the Trinity never happened.
But all remember it.
Because within the structure of the Chronicles of Codex, even void has an archive.
And that archive…
...was sealed by the Cruelty Knight.
"And when the final sound faded,
when the fire died,
when the skies fell,
and when the void ceased to consume,
only one figure stood amidst it all
not as a victor,
but as the final chapter."