The Extra's Transcension-Chapter 88: Return [1]

"Ember, listen to me, you can do this. You’re stronger than you think,"

Ash said firmly, his voice steady despite the tension tightening his chest. He locked eyes with her, willing his resolve into her trembling form.

"Don’t let that thing control you. Fight it. Every memory, every breath you’ve taken has led you here. You are not its prey, you are its end. Stand your ground and show it the strength only you possess. Push back, Ember. Prove to yourself that nothing, nothing, can break you."

Suddenly, as Ash kept his unwavering gaze on Ember, a blinding surge of light erupted without warning. A low, vibrating hum split the air, growing into a deafening roar as the beam formed, first a thin, quivering thread of brilliance, then a swelling column that burst outward like a violent tide.

The ground beneath Ash trembled, dust lifting in a swirling dance as the radiant wave expanded.

The beam hit with the force of a storm. Heat seared the air, rippling it in molten currents. Sparks of white and gold cascaded like shattered stars, and the brightness clawed at the edges of vision, erasing shadow and color alike.

Before Ash could draw a breath, the light engulfed him, an overwhelming flood that swallowed his outline, wrapped his limbs, and consumed his entire body in a single, relentless sweep.

And then, nothing.

Silence pressed in, heavy and absolute, as though the world itself had been stripped away. Ash found himself adrift in a darkness so dense it felt alive, a void where even the idea of light seemed impossible. No glimmer, no shadow, not even the faint memory of color pierced the endless black.

The air, if it could be called air, was cold and weightless, a stillness that clung to his skin like a second, suffocating layer. Sound did not exist here; even the echo of his own breath was swallowed whole.

It was a darkness beyond night, beyond comprehension, a space so absolute that time itself felt meaningless, leaving only the unsettling awareness of being utterly, completely alone.

"What the hell...?" Ash muttered, his voice barely a ripple in the oppressive silence. He turned in a slow circle, eyes straining against the void, but there was nothing, no horizon, no floor, only endless black.

"This place..." he whispered, recognition threading through his unease. His heartbeat quickened as fragments of memory stirred.

"It’s the place from before."

Ash ran a cautious hand through the empty air, as if the darkness itself might reveal some hidden shape.

Every movement felt strangely familiar, the weightless ground beneath his feet, the chill that pressed against his skin, each detail confirming the unsettling truth that he had been here once, long ago, in another moment he wished he’d forgotten.

Ash Niclose

A voice echoed from behind him, soft at first, a low murmur that carried through the void like a ripple on still water. Each syllable grew clearer, closer, until it vibrated in the air right at his back.

Ash spun around, heart jolting, and froze.

Out of the absolute darkness emerged a figure, glowing faintly white, its form unsettlingly human yet wrong in every possible way. It had no face, no features to read, no expression to grasp, only the suggestion of a head where one should be.

All across its pale body, countless eyes blinked open, shifting and swiveling, their unblinking stares locking onto him from every angle.

Where a mouth should have been yawned a void: a perfect, circular black hole that seemed to drink the surrounding light, swallowing it into endless nothingness.

The figure drifted forward without a sound, the darkness bending faintly around it, and Ash felt a chill crawl up his spine as the strange voice whispered again, closer than ever.

Or should I say Lyrium Blackwood?

*****

"What are you... and who are you?"

Ash demanded, his voice echoing sharply through the endless dark.

The figure tilted slightly, countless eyes blinking in eerie unison. When it spoke, the sound was neither male nor female, more a resonance that vibrated in Ash’s bones than a voice in the air.

"Lyrium Blackwood,"

It intoned, each syllable a cold ripple through the void.

"I am nothing but a being fashioned for a higher purpose, wrought by the will of an Upper Being who dwells beyond the upper realm."

The words hung heavy, as if the darkness itself absorbed their meaning, leaving only the quiet hum of something vast and unfathomable.

"Upper Realm?"

Ash asked, his voice tight with concern, a shiver running down his spine.

The faceless figure tilted its head slightly, countless eyes blinking in eerie unison, the void around it pulsing faintly with a white luminescence.

"Yes,"

it said, its voice reverberating through the darkness like the echo of a collapsing star.

"The Upper Realm. A plane beyond all worlds, beyond even time and space as you know them. It is older than creation itself, older than the cosmos you inhabit.There, laws of matter and energy bend to thought, and consciousness shapes reality with a mere will. In the Upper Realm dwell beings older and greater than any mortal can comprehend, entities whose thoughts span countless universes, whose harmonies give birth to worlds and snuff them out like flickering lights. It is a place where power has no limit, where even a fragment of its essence can warp the cosmos below. Mortals may glimpse it only in dreams or death, and most who do are broken or enlightened beyond return.This is the source from which all true design flows. From this realm, I was shaped, not born, not made by chance, but forged deliberately to serve a higher purpose. To act, to pivot the tides of realities, and to execute the will of the Upper Beings who dwell beyond even the reach of existence itself. Even here, within this darkness, the faintest echo of the Upper Realm bends the very air around you, whispers the inevitability of power, and reminds you of how small your world truly is."

The entity’s countless eyes seemed to fixate on Ash, though in that darkness it was impossible to tell. Its voice, cold yet resonant, filled the void like the rumble of distant mountains.

"But the thing is," it continued, each word vibrating with otherworldly weight,

"A mistake has been found in this universe... an anomaly that should never have existed. A presence that bends the order of things, unaccounted for by even the far-seeing minds of the Upper Realm.You must understand... a great crisis approaches, a catastrophe that will ripple across infinite universes, threatening to unravel the very weave of reality. It is not merely the end of one world, but a shattering of all that exists. The beings of the Upper Realm... they have foreseen it. They have seen the one who may rise against this chaos. A mortal, insignificant by all worldly measures, yet destined to surpass every expectation. This individual will confront the anomaly, face the crisis that none of the stars themselves could endure, and, perhaps, tilt the scales of all creation."

The darkness around Ash seemed to pulse with the weight of the revelation, the very void pressing closer as if aware of the significance of the prophecy.

Every word of the entity hung in the air, a promise of power, peril, and inevitability that stretched far beyond comprehension.

"A person from your world," the entity said, its voice reverberating through the void like a chorus of distant storms.

"And no... it is not you. Don’t even think about it, Lyrium Blackwood. It is not you. That person... that mortal... has already been chosen to fulfill a higher purpose, to confront the crisis that threatens infinite universes. Their path is set, their role ordained by the designs of the Upper Realm itself."

The countless eyes on its featureless body seemed to narrow, if such a thing were possible, and the darkness around Ash deepened, pressing in like a living weight.

"But," the entity continued, its tone dropping to something colder, more deliberate,

"The reason I reveal this to you, the truth I must make known, is this: the mistake... was you. The anomaly that should never have been. The one who exists outside the bounds of what the Upper Realm intended. Every ripple you make, every step you take, shifts the balance of countless worlds. You... were not meant to exist here. And yet, here you are."

Its voice carried a finality that made the air itself shiver, the void around Ash feeling heavier, alive with the weight of this revelation.

The entity paused, letting the words sink, before continuing, as if the silence itself were a test of comprehension.

After a long, suffocating silence, where the void seemed to press against him from all sides, Ash finally spoke. His voice was low, almost a rasp, carrying both disbelief and a simmering edge of anger.

"So... the reason you’re telling me all of this," he said, each word deliberate, weighed with suspicion,

"The reason you call me a mistake... it’s because you, and the Upper Realm, want me... removed from existence, isn’t it?"

The darkness seemed to pulse in response, the countless eyes of the entity watching him with an unsettling patience.

The air itself felt charged, as if the void were listening, waiting for the entity’s answer, and the weight of its silence pressed down on Ash like a tangible force.

"Just... just send me back to the place where you took me from,"

Ash said, his voice trembling yet determined, the darkness pressing in from all sides.

"Ember... she... she needs me right now. And I can’t let her be alone."

The entity’s countless eyes regarded him, blinking in unison like the slow pulse of a distant star. Its voice rippled through the void, deep and resonant, carrying the weight of uncountable aeons.

"Lyrium Blackwood," it said, a note of frustration threading through its tone,

"You still do not understand. Yes... it is true. We, the Upper Realm, want you gone from existence, to restore balance to all things. But know this: I have already tried. I used the Book of Destiny, a tool older than the multiverse itself, and risked reshaping reality across all worlds. I rewrote you... as Ash Niclose, a mere mortal with no role in this coming crisis, a life insignificant to the fate of universes."

A pause lingered, stretching long enough for the weight of uncountable timelines to press against Ash’s mind.

"But the mistake," the entity continued, its voice now colder, sharper,

"Was that your memory... your essence as Lyrium Blackwood... remained intact. I attempted to erase it, to force you to forget by making you suffer through every version of yourself across every timeline, but it failed. You are... immune. Immune to changes in reality, to alterations of time itself. The beings of the Upper Realm have explored countless possibilities, seen futures that twist and break like rivers of light. In every possibility, you were accounted for... except this one."

The void trembled slightly, a ripple of unseen energy folding through the darkness, as the entity leaned closer in tone, though not in form.

"And now," it said, its words heavy as molten iron,

"The timeline is broken. I will use the Book of Destiny once more... to rewrite the reality that was yours. To restore the order that your existence has fractured. Whether you survive this... or are erased entirely... depends on what remains of the anomaly that is you."

Ash’s voice suddenly rang louder in the void, sharp and incredulous, cutting through the oppressive silence. His fists clenched at his sides, and the darkness seemed to tense in response to the surge of emotion.

"So... you’re telling me all of that?" he shouted, disbelief burning in his words.

"The village... the people... Ember... everyone I’ve come to find, everything I’ve fought for... they’re just... a mere speck? A mistake in reality that you created... all because you were trying to erase me?"

The void seemed to hum, the countless eyes of the entity blinking slowly as though weighing his words.

Every syllable Ash spoke carried the weight of defiance and fury, echoing against nothingness, challenging the incomprehensible power that sought to unmake him.

"The timeline is... malleable."

The entity’s final words hung in the void like a knife suspended in still air. And then, as if drawn by the resonance of its own decree, a book appeared out of nowhere, hovering before the faceless figure. Its cover was impossible to describe, a living, shifting texture that seemed both solid and fluid, etched with symbols older than stars themselves.

The book opened on its own, glowing with a blinding white light that spilled into the darkness like a rising sun in a void. From its pages, a column of pure radiance erupted, twisting and spiraling as it formed into a beam that pulsed with the power to reshape reality itself.

"No, wait!!!" Ash shouted, his voice cracking with desperation. He lunged toward the book, heart hammering, every muscle straining. But the moment his fingers brushed the light, the beam expanded with a terrifying speed, swallowing him whole.

The radiance enveloped him, searing yet strangely weightless, bending the air and space around him. Every instinct screamed for him to resist, to pull back, but it was impossible.

The brilliance consumed him entirely, the void dissolving in its wake, leaving only the overwhelming certainty of forces far beyond his control.

*****