Preamble
THE TRUE BERSERKVERSE
You think everything began when Pluto unleashed those legendary solar-system rap battles?
Oh, probably... but the real story of this community, and therefore TBKS itself, reaches far deeper than any tale you've ever heard.
Before the community existed, before the Dragon Soul System, before the battles, the drama, the victories, there was me; Eddy.
And the external forces that shaped my life slowly carved the foundations of what would one day become the BerserKVerse.
Yes, there are planets... Yes, there are battles...
But this story goes far beyond music and conflict. Here, we finally bring real substance to the fire.
This is a universe narrated astronomically, structured through scientific metaphors:
celestial bodies do not stay the same throughout life; They shift; They evolve. They grow; sometimes by awareness and maturity, other times by external shocks that force them to mutate, changing their nature and identity.
​
These transformations make them unstoppable, yet not without guidance or danger. Among the primordial forces, we meet the E.M.S. or Eternal Mystical Souls: entities representing self-realization, healthy attention, determination, and the inner guiding spirit every mind carries. But there is another force, the Stress Fluid, a substance formed by mysterious Stress Particles; subatomic anomalies capable of inducing instability, destruction, and existential decay.
​
This universe was not born inside another. It emerged first; as an identity, as a vision. A fragile cosmic balance holds all of this together. The PlutoVerse does not contain this world; it merely intersects with it. Digital Hourglass did not create it, but crossed its path, pushing its cosmic expression further without defining its origin.
​
Everything that exists here is my creation, shaped beyond any external structure or permission.
And so I name it for what it truly is: the BerserKVerse.
Truth is; multiverses coexist, sometimes touching, sometimes diverging.
And I am certain yours stands right beside this one.
the BerserKVerse; Truth is... these multiverses coexist. And I'm sure yours sits right beside them. So... are you ready?
Ready to uncover the full story of the BerserKVerse, to see its past, to witness its growth, and to face its future?
The journey begins now.
Written by: Berserk 308
Chapter 0: The Universe Encountered a New Particle
It is the silent March of 2004.
Two ancient civilizations, the BerserK Industries and the Intergalactic Axiom Unit, made a decision that would shape the future of the cosmos. Together, they constructed a celestial mothership: a spherical divine vessel with a diameter of 1,540,000 km.
Its purpose was extraordinary. The two factions aimed to create 100 trillion units of automated protocols designed to explore the cosmos and build the foundations of a true stellar empire. This was the ORB S.E. also known as, Spacium Empire.
Within its core, the goal was clear.
To generate and manage one hundred trillion units, or protocols, designed to sustain, expand, and dominate celestial research at an unprecedented scale. What began as intellectual structures, research institutes, and automated academies would later evolve into assault sectors, super laboratories, and precision-engineered soldiers, all aligned toward a single objective. The construction of a stellar empire capable of eliminating any obstacle that dared to stand in its path. Inside the ORB S.E., nothing resembled humanity.
No emotion.
No intuition.
No organic imperfection; Just pure perfection.
​
Every chamber, laboratory, and system was designed for eternal survival and mechanical efficiency. The inhabitants were not beings, but protocols. Highly specialized units divided into functional hierarchies. Scientists, engineers, mechanics, strategists. Each assigned to ensure flawless operation.
​
The strongest among them were identified by complete integer designations, ranging from 300 to 399. These were the elite protocols, forged for command and enforcement. Beneath them existed countless minor units, designated as 3xx.xxxxxxxxxxxx, marked by extended decimal sequences, protocols dedicated solely to maintenance, calibration, and systemic balance. Their numbers were immeasurable, forming the silent bloodstream of the vessel.
​
Among the Stellar Investigation Protocols, also known as SIP, the hierarchy of the complete integer designations, was strict.
3x1 to 3x8 were classified as Soldiers. 3x9 held the rank of Sergeant. 3x0 stood as the Lutheran.
And above all, the designation 300. The Supreme Boss.
​
A society without chaos. A civilization without doubt. Self-generated, self-regulated, and entirely devoted to the power of the ORB S.E. Yet, even in a universe built on perfection, equilibrium is never eternal. And this was only the beginning.
The story truly begins with SIP 308.
​
Among trillions of Stellar Investigation Protocols operating within ORB S.E., SIP 308 was classified as an ultra-standard unit. Nothing about its core designation suggested deviation, creativity, or autonomy. And yet, something within its code began to shift.
SIP 308 did not address subordinates by numerical strings alone. It assigned names. It requested a personal laboratory, not for optimization, but for experimentation. It developed routines that could only be described as curiosity. The system allowed it, as long as efficiency remained intact.
​
This unit would be known as Doctor Wade.
For the first 6 months, ORB S.E. functioned flawlessly. Celestial bodies were captured, dismantled, and converted into energy. The Spacium Empire expanded its reach in silence, precise and relentless, unaware that something far older and far more instinctive had noticed.
​
In August 2004, a young gaseous celestial body named Etlat reacted. He did not rely on fleets or armies. It did not seek alliances. Instead, driven by instinct and will, it manifested something entirely new. Through a primordial, almost unconscious act, Etlat shaped a luminous entity. Pure, focused, and radiant. An Eternal Mystical Soul. The EMS was not a weapon. It was clarity. Determination without corruption. A force capable of stabilizing and empowering the body that carried it, not through domination, but through purpose.
​
Without hesitation, Etlat launched a solitary assault on ORB S.E. Against a celestial construct with a diameter of 1,540,000 kilometres, Etlat's form was insignificant, barely 400'000 kilometres wide. The outcome seemed inevitable.
Yet Etlat committed entirely. Its body deformed under the strain, becoming intensely oblate. What remained of its outer mass was torn away, forming a ring that would forever orbit it.
​
The damage was not catastrophic, but it was real. Key efficiency systems failed. Entire sections of ORB S.E. went dark.
Etlat vanished into the cosmic shadow, diminished but alive.
ORB S.E. survived, placed under strict supervision as specialized units rushed to restore power. Time was critical. Every lost cycle meant declining dominance.
​
And somewhere within the machine, SIP 308 observed. The Orion Arm had changed.
Doctor Wade was the only one among trillions who truly understood that something extraordinary was hidden within the EMS.
An energy far more efficient than anything the ORB S.E. had ever produced.
Yet he could not access it.
Not because of lack of knowledge, but because of scale. He was too small. Too insignificant.
When he brought his observations to his superiors, their response was cold and almost mocking.
Not emotional mockery, but something worse. A mechanical dismissal.
To them, efficiency had already reached perfection. Wade did not give up.
​
By May 2005, he committed himself to a different path. If the EMS could not be reached, then an alternative power had to be created.
Not mystical, but defensive. A new energy source capable of protecting the ORB S.E. from future external interference.
He requested assistance from his subordinates. Despite their immense number, every unit was already bound to a highly specialized function.
The damage caused by Etlat had left no spare protocols available. So Wade worked alone.
Inside his private laboratory, isolated from the central systems, he began a controlled experiment.
He isolated 31 photons. One every 24 hours. Each photon was tested, contained, disrupted, destroyed, and reinforced.
Each cycle refined the defensive system of the ORB S.E. And slowly, it worked. On the first day of May 2005, Wade focused on the quantum properties of a single photon.
A particle with mass, charge, and an internal structure governed not by certainty, but by probability. A particle that could never be fully observed without being altered. His first experiment failed.
The photon escaped containment.
But failure was not loss, It was data.
​
From that moment, every error became refinement. Every escape improved the next containment. As the old saying goes, mistakes are how systems learn. Day after day, the photons began to react; Not randomly. They responded to imposed quantum stress, as if adapting. A solution was forming.
​
On the eleventh day of May 2005, after countless recalibrations, it happened.
The photon collapsed. Compressed into something new. Anomalous, yet stable.
Sensors registered signals that had never existed before. Energy curves without precedent. A particle that resisted decay.
But then...
"FOREIGN CELESTIAL BODY APPROACHING ALL PRIMARY PROTOCOLS REPORT TO ATTACK BRIDGES"
​
Wade refused to abandon his discovery. He secured the data, the prototype, and moved to his combat station.
Etlat stood before ORB S.E. once again. But something was different. His weapon resembled a digital pen, radiant and precise. Wade did not question it. He opened fire. Every shot was stopped. Deflected. The reason became clear. A luminous shield, perfectly stable fueled by... Etlat's Eternal Mystical Soul.
​
Wade assumed it was a projection. A visual construct. He was wrong. The reflected fire returned as a wave of energy. ORB S.E. began to destabilize. Power grids fluctuated. Structural integrity dropped. Wade did not panic.
He aligned the prototype. Aimed directly at the core of the shield; and in just a moment...
*Click.*
​
Time seemed to slow. The synthetic particle traveled at sub light speed and it struck the Eternal Mystical Soul.
It pierced it. The effect was immediate. The entity convulsed, releasing an uncontrolled burst of photons. A barrier of light formed.
Pure. Blinding. Dangerous. Not gamma radiation. Something worse. The particle replicated.
A nuclear supernova, not of plasma, but of stress. A substance humans would later call radioactive, though it behaved nothing like known decay. Anything celestial was perforated.
​
The core expanded for billions of kilometers. Everything within was erased. The final shockwave traveled hundreds of light years. By then, the particle had become dormant. But it spread everywhere. The universe had gained a new fundamental component.
The Stress Particle.
​
The supernova lasted only moments. Almost no one witnessed it. The region became sterile. A void within a void.
Etlat and ORB S.E. were hurled in opposite directions. Destroyed. Contaminated. Broken beyond recovery.
Most of the protocols perished.
Only SIP300, SIP309, and SIP310 escaped moments before the collapse. SIP308 survived barely, carried away by debris and radiation. The digital pen drifted into darkness.
​
Fragments of the ORB S.E. structure were scattered across thousands of astronomical units.
And on that same day of annihilation, not far from the epicenter, a new celestial body formed.
Eddy was born.
Chapter 1: My Primordial Breath
Eddy was born as an extremely hot brown dwarf, dense and unstable, yet rich in potential.
From the outside, he appeared like many other sub-stellar objects scattered across the universe.
Inside, however, his core held an unusual configuration.
Not violent. Not radiant. But gentle, and marked by a rare kind of brilliance, difficult to detect from afar.
Eddy could not perceive this difference. To himself, he felt ordinary.
One body among countless others, drifting and forming according to natural laws.
During the first year of existence, the young brown dwarf was accompanied by a narrow ring.
A remnant of early formation that remained close, feeding the body as it grew.
Through this process, Eddy accumulated mass rapidly.
He absorbed energy relentlessly, displaying an appetite far beyond the average of any known galaxy.
Even in this early phase, a latent drive for exploration was already present within his core.
Yet the body was still young.Extended periods of stillness caused rapid exhaustion, forcing long cycles of dormancy.
Whenever accumulation ceased, Eddy entered deep rest, conserving energy until growth could resume.
Although born with the structure required for emission and communication, Eddy did not produce coherent signals immediately.
Time was needed. The first releases were unstructured, irregular bursts.
Not language, but instinctive noise.
The raw echoes of a newborn celestial body learning how to exist.
Thus began Eddy's formation phase. Unaware of what he carried within.
He continued to travel and grow rapidly throughout these primordial phases, expanding until he reached nearly two tenths of Sol's size. In a relatively short time, he consumed what remained of his primordial ring.
Once it was gone, Eddy began to learn, to discover, and eventually to communicate.
To more mature stars, he would have appeared as a young, extroverted, cheerful, and carefree body. Still, he carried a touch of shyness, along with a few minor imperfections. One of these was his inability to fully control his tender yet unstable surface plasma currents. This was not a true problem.
Young brown dwarfs often exhibit such behavior, especially when their growth occurs at an almost anomalous rate, despite remaining classified as brown dwarfs. Eddy, however, was still too young to understand this.
There were not many nearby bodies capable of explaining it to him. He was curious, but also somewhat stubborn, often convinced that his understanding was already complete. This trait would not last forever. Eddy was about to enter the Primary Nebular Educational System, also known as PNES.
Chapter 2: A Traumatic Scar
The PNES represented a crucial step in the growth of every young celestial body. For this reason, Eddy was required to enter it.
Within this system, fundamental knowledge was transmitted, not only about existence itself, but also about the principles meant to guide young brown dwarfs toward the long path leading to main-sequence stars.
Time passed, and the young body learned from others that the energy which had once nourished him originated from a higher entity.
An entity believed to be benevolent and omnipotent, said to control the entire universe.
To many, this being was considered the true creator of the cosmos itself. To Eddy, this idea seemed acceptable. He believed it without hesitation, not because of devotion, but because he lacked the knowledge required to question it.
He was still too young, still forming. And so, he carried these concepts with him, storing them deep within his core.
​
Despite this, Eddy remained intensely curious. He was never satisfied with simple answers. He searched constantly for a reason, a cause, a structure behind what he was taught. When it came to drawing, however, his expression appeared repetitive.
He traced random constellations, lines stretching endlessly through space, resembling infinite celestial railways.
Patterns without clear destinations, expanding beyond conventional forms. Unfortunately, these fixations were not understood.
Other brown dwarfs, still in their own formative stages, began to mock him. What Eddy perceived as exploration, they saw as deviation. Unfortunately, these brown dwarfs were not like the others. They appeared stubborn, aggressive, and above all united as a group, something Eddy was entirely unable to mirror.
When they attempted to learn, their focus was rigid and collective. Eddy, instead, drifted into his own thoughts. He did not reason as the rest of the PNES group did. His approach was different, unaligned, driven by excessive creativity; but this divergence was not tolerated. Neither the instructors nor his peers appreciated this deviation. The system required cohesion, adherence to theme, and precise memorization of what was being taught. At first, Eddy was merely mocked.
​
Then, he was pushed away. An excuse was fabricated. A supposed illness that only he was said to possess. From ridicule to offense, from offense to exclusion, Eddy was slowly removed from the standard model. And this happened every Sol cycle.
Eddy remembered the words of his guides:
"Your primordial ring was formed by an omnipotent and benevolent entity. For any difficulty, pray to it. It will help you, soon."
​
Without hesitation, Eddy followed this guidance. He began to pray to that divinity, according to the dominant belief system of the region he formed: The Orion Arm Celestial Christianity.
For days, Eddy continued to pray, hoping his situation would improve. At first, his distress manifested as minor fluctuations. Sudden drops in stability. Brief moments of fear became early signs of social anxiety. What began as secondary intrusive signals soon evolved into persistent concerns. These disturbances started to destabilize the brown dwarf's internal biorhythm.
​
His breathing cycles became irregular. Crying episodes grew more frequent, resonating through his structure like uncontrolled oscillations. A trauma was forming. It became darker, sharper and progressively deeper, like a puncture that never fully healed.
And, almost inevitably, Eddy's luminosity decline for longer periods of time. Then physical pain followed. Sharp pulses within the inner layers of his body. Unstable flares strong enough to cause temporary disorientation.
Moments where perception blurred and equilibrium failed. It became a closed system. A trap from which escape seemed impossible. Eddy did not know alternative paths. Prayer appeared to be the only remaining key. So he continued. Days turned into weeks.
Weeks collapsed into months. Yet no signal returned. No response echoed from above. His prayers dissolved into sobs, merging with increasingly frequent waves of grief. And still, the universe remained silent.
​
Month after month, Eddy's belief began to weaken, slowly eroding until it nearly vanished entirely.
No one had truly given him hope. Perhaps they were waiting for something more traumatic. Perhaps his condition was of no interest.
Perhaps that higher entity did not exist for Eddy at all. Or perhaps even it did not know how to respond.
The true cause remained unknown.
​
What became clear was this: the brown dwarf started to doubt that such an entity could be both benevolent and omnipotent at the same time.
"What if it does not truly exist...? No. Too many believe in it. They would call me 'insane'."
Eddy thought. And yet, doubt continued to grow. Then, on October 2012, roughly six Earth cycles after Eddy's entry into the Primary Nebular Educational System, something changed.
A sudden glow appeared. Bright. Intense. Violent in its beauty.
It resembled a supernova, strikingly similar to the one that had accompanied Eddy's own birth.
The brown dwarf paused. Curiosity overcame fear.
Had a divine answer finally arrived?
Or was this light something far older than any belief system could explain?
Chapter 3: Ancient Stellar Ruins
At the sight of that glow, Eddy began a journey that carried him beyond imagination. A voyage. An incredible voyage.
He followed the celestial currents of the Orion Arm, drifting along paths shaped by gravity and time.
As he traveled, Eddy discovered a new perspective of the vast web connecting the stars of the Milky Way.
He observed stars changing, growing, evolving, and above all interacting.
A continuous flow of motion and transformation that captivated him. The experience stirred a complex set of sensations, almost addictive in nature. Before him unfolded a concert of luminous points, connected by imagination and creativity, forming what appeared to be a living celestial map. Stars rotated around galactic cores, acting as mothers and fathers to solar systems filled with planets of countless colors, each different from the next.
​
Through this moment, Eddy realized something fundamental. He had found a new passion.
"What could be holding all of this together... this cosmic spectacle?"
The question echoed within him, curiosity boiling deep inside his core. As these thoughts formed, Eddy noticed something else.
The glow he had seen hours earlier had weakened, yet somehow felt closer. Its intensity had faded, but its presence had grown more intimate, almost emotionally resonant. Drawn by this sensation, Eddy adjusted his trajectory. He altered his course and moved toward the source of the light.
Eddy reached the epicenter of the explosion. The glow that had guided him was now almost completely gone. The surrounding environment shifted. What had once felt playful, luminous, and full of hope became spectral.
Silent. Mystical. At times, unsettling. Eddy did not allow fear to take control. He slowed his movement, proceeding carefully, attempting to understand whether he was truly heading in the right direction. Then, suddenly, what lay before him struck deep within his core.
​
He encountered structures that resembled archaeological remains. The closer he drifted, the clearer they became.
"Wait... are those... ruins? What could something like this be doing here?"
​
Eddy turned around, scanning the surrounding space for any sign of anomalous activity. There was nothing. Nothing alive. So he continued forward. Ancient floating structures emerged from the darkness, long forgotten by the stellar surroundings.
Time had rendered them partially unusable. Or so it seemed. With careful maneuvering and a series of improvised adjustments, Eddy managed to slip past the drifting fragments.
He navigated through what appeared to be the remains of a collapsed castle. Only few towers remained, but no walls enclosed its perimeter. Soon, Eddy reached what appeared to be the main gate. Eddy pushed the gate open and stepped inside the ruins.The interior resembled a low-medieval structure. Stone bricks and wooden elements shaped the space, all devoid of light.
This, however, posed no real issue for Eddy. He was able to emit just enough faint luminosity to perceive the vastness of what appeared to be an ancient castle. No active traps were present. The structure had been abandoned for a very long time, perhaps even before Eddy's own birth. Traps still existed in several locations, but they had already been triggered long ago, rendered inert by time.
The young brown dwarf proceeded, slightly intimidated. He knew he had to move forward, yet a question lingered. Where?
As he wandered deeper into the ancient structure, Eddy accidentally dislodged a fragment of the floor.
The piece drifted toward him, then suddenly accelerated, caught in a gravitational slingshot and it collided violently with one of the many wall tiles.
​
Moments after the impact, a mechanism activated. One of the countless doors hidden within the ruined castle slowly opened.
Eddy noticed it immediately and moved closer. From beyond the doorway, a faint blue light was emanating.
Without hesitation, Eddy followed it.
Chapter 4: Ancient Stellar Ruins
As Eddy reached the doorway revealed by the ancient mechanism, a long corridor unfolded before him.
It shared the same architectural style as the main hall, stretching forward in silence. At its far end, the faint azure glow persisted. The brown dwarf moved forward, following the corridor as it appeared empty and undisturbed.
​
As he advanced, however, Eddy began to notice subtle changes. The surrounding walls were slowly transforming.
A gradual transition across eras. The structure shifted from low-medieval stone, to ancient cellar-like interiors, then into modern elements of iron and grey metal. Concrete walls followed, solid and cold, until finally the corridor adopted the appearance of reinforced steel, resembling the interior of a spacecraft.
​
Eddy did not stop to question it; his focus remained fixed on the blue glow, which felt increasingly close.
Then he paused for a moment. Eddy slowed his speed, allowing himself a few steady breaths.
He stopped in front of a window, similar to those found in contemporary structures. When he looked through the glass, Eddy realized something was profoundly different. It was not the familiar Milky Way he had grown alongside.
No recognizable constellations. Instead, a strange and almost mystical sky stretched beyond the window.
Reddish hues blended with deep blue tones, illuminated by stars he had never seen before.
A realization formed within his core. Perhaps that corridor had not merely led him deeper into the ruins.
Perhaps it had carried him into an entirely new universe. After regaining his composure, Eddy decided to continue.
Unfortunately for him, he soon realized that the blue light was right beside him. A brief pause followed.
Another room revealed itself. Inside, there was something resembling an observation porthole, alongside an advanced computer station. A setup so refined that Eddy could not help but think:
"I would never dream of something like this..."
​
Almost immediately, another thought surfaced.
"But who would place something like this here?"
​
Looking more closely, Eddy noticed that the computer was already active. The interface was surprisingly simple. "Create Your World."
Eddy hesitated, then followed the instructions displayed by the machine. Name and classification of the celestial body.
Its inhabitants. Environmental parameters and so many countless variables, layered one after another. It was overwhelming, for him.
​
As he examined the interface further, Eddy realized that the system allowed the creation of celestial bodies through predefined presets.One mode allowed him to create a personal entity, an avatar of sorts, capable of traveling between worlds as an explorer.
Another mode focused on a single world, where structures could be built and shaped directly. Everything on the display appeared vibrant, colorful, full of movement and potential adventures.
​
Eddy turned toward the porthole. Outside, everything was static. The strange sky remained almost completely still; a deep silence. Even Eddy could not explain why. Hours passed, and within this unfamiliar place, Eddy found himself genuinely entertained.
Yet one question remained unresolved. If there was a porthole meant to observe the outside, why did that same outside appear completely still? Was something missing? A timeline, perhaps?
Additional instruments to navigate time itself? Or maybe... a story. Unfortunately, Eddy could not remain there any longer.
Other obligations awaited him elsewhere. Reluctantly, he left the room and began retracing his steps.
At the end of the corridor, however, he did not return to the main hall. Instead, he emerged at a secondary exit.
He looked around. Nothing. Except for a code. 7670.
​
It appeared alone, suspended in space, as if it were a discriminator or a password. Eddy wondered if there could be ten thousand rooms like this one. He scanned the surroundings, yet saw none. What was even stranger was what happened next.
When he turned back toward the door, the code had vanished. In its place, a numeric keypad had appeared.
Confused, Eddy entered the sequence 7670. Immediately, a scanning beam locked onto him. Moments later, the door reopened. This time, the environment had changed. He found himself once again inside the corridor, but now only a short distance away from the chamber that resembled a some-sort of laboratory. By this point, Eddy no longer questioned the nature of the ruins.
He accepted them as they were. Without a word, he departed. What were these ruins, truly?
And why did they behave in such unpredictable ways?
Despite the uncertainty, Eddy found himself deeply fascinated by their mystery. So much so that he marked the date within his core.
It was 13th October 2012.
​
The Primary Nebular Educational System continued for Eddy, but he no longer experienced it in a healthy or carefree way.
It felt like a constant obligation, something imposed rather than chosen. Deep within his core, Eddy sensed that he did not truly belong to that kind of galaxy. This time, however, the memory of the ancient ruins was engraved within him.
Perhaps too deeply.
​
His focus wavered often, drifting away from the lessons at hand. As a result, the tutors were frequently forced to intervene, stabilizing his surface layers whenever his attention collapsed into instability. Eddy was not supposed to be distracted by those alternative contraptions. He was expected to follow what was presented to him. Or rather, what was imposed.
​
During the brief pauses allowed by the system, Eddy attempted to explain to his peers what he had seen.
He described the ruins. The corridor; The machine. No one listened. To them, his account sounded too strange... Something too detached from accepted structures to be considered reliable. And so, the only way Eddy could interact with those ruins was after the PNES had concluded its cycle for the day.
The system no longer monitored him then, even though the knowledge he was required to acquire remained vast, and sooner or later would still need to be processed. Yet Eddy's core was elsewhere. Lost among distant constellations. Focused on a single question.
How could that machine be made to move?
​
Before he could pursue the thought any further, a signal echoed through the system. Another galactic morning had ended.
Exactly twenty-four hours after the initial discovery, Eddy rushed back toward the ruins. This time, with determination.
Upon arrival, he scanned the surroundings once more and found the same mysterious door, the numeric keypad still intact.
Without hesitation, he entered the sequence 7670. The entrance responded; Eddy stepped inside again.
Another day had begun. Another opportunity to understand the mechanism.
Chapter 5: Multiple Lifes, Multiple Responsibilities
The life of the brown dwarf continued as a form of double existence.
Within the Primary Nebular Educational System, Eddy remained silent and unstable, appearing weaker on the surface than he truly was internally. Inside the chamber of the ruins, however, he felt entirely different. There, Eddy became more extroverted, cheerful, and playful, finally resembling a true brown dwarf allowed to exist according to its nature.
​
By December of that same year, Eddy managed to uncover not only new and more complex ways to enrich the scenario visible through the porthole, but also how to evolve it over time. The timeline itself became accessible through a precise combination of inputs, multiple controls pressed simultaneously. It did not take long for him to understand its structure in detail and to comprehend how its scripts operated. Yet, as time continued to pass, the external world still demanded something else from him.
It wanted him to behave in a specific way, like an automaton. Isolated, but most importantly, cold and apathic. Shaped by mass, by what mass requires, by what mass accepts. The weight of this social pressure gradually led Eddy to develop something new.
A personal sense of creation. An internal passion that became almost addictive. A growing need to tell his own story. He could no longer endure feeling like a mere echo of his present, constantly trapped within himself.
And so, he began to use every available means to transfer his experiences into the device's timeline, carefully hidden within the ruins. Fragments of thought accumulated over time, alongside moments of existence preserved within the system.
Unspoken questions lingered beneath the surface, waiting to be shaped into something real. An impulse was forming.
The impulse of a universe being born within another.
Thus, in 2014, Eddy became what he would later define as "The Founder" of this new universe.
One system at a time, he began constructing increasingly complex realities, each enclosed within its own bubble.
More than single worlds, these bubbles resembled miniature solar systems, each governed by internal rules and activities.
In January, he initiated the process with a rounded humanoid figure, wearing dark lenses and carrying blades across its back.
This entity explored infinite environments, each operating under different mechanics, all contained within a single, expansive bubble.
A system rather than a solitary world, capable of hosting countless variations within itself.
By March, the second creation emerged. Unlike the first, it consisted of a single world, vast beyond conventional scale. Solid, yet immense, almost comparable to a gas giant in size. Its rules were unusual, allowing Eddy either to struggle for survival or to freely channel his creativity. The environment was composed of discrete, unitary blocks, each distinct, combinable with others to form new structures and possibilities.
​
In June, seeking to ease the weight of what he had built in the months prior, Eddy shaped a fourth bubble.
This time, there were no humanoid figures. Instead, the space was occupied by mechanical constructs, propelled and guided by entities resembling colorful, hollow cores. The bubble held no grand narrative, but functioned as a space of pure interaction.
A form of entertainment with potential yet to be fully realized.
​
Later that year, in November, another bubble took form. Here, individual entities were absent altogether.
Instead, entire nations existed within the system, locked in conflict over the dominance of a single, enclosed world.
Together, these bubbles formed a reservoir of universes. A collection born from the continuous cycle between the PNES and the ruins. This accumulation transformed the chamber into a far more vibrant and active space.
​
Yet among them all, there was one bubble Eddy held closer than the others. The third. Created precisely on his cycle of origin, 11th May 2014. It was not the visual style of its inhabitants that set it apart, even though they appeared cartoonish and lighthearted.
What truly struck him was how easily the environment itself could be manipulated. Sometimes, perhaps, too easily.
Through a drag-and-drop-like process, using precise reference points, Eddy was able to reshape the scenario continuously.
From the porthole, he observed smooth transitions, fluid shifts from one configuration to another, unfolding in real time.
It was in that moment that Eddy understood something crucial. This space was not meant only to be played.
It could be observed. Revisited. Enjoyed after the fact. Like a recorded event. Like a story unfolding, frame by frame.
And so, Eddy began to take notes.
Characters, events but most importantly, Connections. For the first time, he was not only shaping a world, but also deciding its future outcomes. Inevitably, he invested far more time into this bubble than into the others. Partly out of fascination, partly to understand how deeply he could go, and partly as a matter of personal time management. Soon, however, he realized something important.
Depth did not lie in mastering the commands of the third bubble.
It lays in understanding how to construct a story capable of sustaining meaning. The solution was simple, yet profound.
Eddy began to transpose his own life into those narratives, reshaping it into a more suitable form. He layered it with elements of fantasy, post-apocalyptic tension, and action. Even though the visual style still felt overly cartoonish to him, the brown dwarf did not retreat.
​
What he was preparing was no longer just a story. It was an imagined autobiography, reborn under a new form. For the next three years, the brown dwarf moved back and forth between the PNES and the ruins. A continuous cycle, almost frenetic at times, broken only by a few long pauses. Yet Eddy did not perceive it as a burden. He managed to maintain control. He released pressure within the PNES and recharged himself inside the chamber of the ruins.
Between 2015 and 2016, Eddy also managed to bring a few friends into that space. Even so, he did not feel particularly productive during those moments. He wanted to spend time with the few connections he had managed to form within the PNES.
Two of them stood out. Hamsiko, a small rocky celestial body with a desaturated orange surface, energetic though sometimes irregular. And Sanisk, a small gaseous body, blue in color with green eyes. Both were highly social, noticeably more extroverted than Eddy. Together, they formed a small group, often seen interacting and playing within their respective planetary systems.
​
Even when he was distant from his laboratory during those occasions, the brown dwarf never stopped talking about his stories.
Both Hamsiko and Sanisk showed genuine interest. Eventually, Eddy began to create characters that represented alternate versions of them within his narratives. To his surprise, he found himself enjoying this detail deeply.
​
Not because it required additional effort, but because he no longer had to invent personalities from nothing. He could draw inspiration directly from real individuals and shape their designs accordingly. It was a simple shift. Yet it proved to be a small revolution, one that significantly improved the depth and quality of the story surrounding the third bubble.
​
Despite all this movement back and forth, and despite having formed a few friendships, something was still missing.
Eddy lacked support. He lacked validation. Above all, he lacked appreciation for what he was creating.
There was little to no feedback. And yet, the brown dwarf felt an internal need to expand.
​
However, he was not only shy. He was also affected by a deep form of social isolation, one that prevented him from speaking freely or expressing himself openly. This condition often pulled his thoughts back toward the silent and almost traumatic phases of his growth.
He had been too different to be accepted. Because of this combination, Eddy began to feel incomplete. As if something were missing inside his core. A void he did not know how to fill. This uncertainty persisted and continued to grow throughout 2016.
Eddy did not know what his future should look like. He did not know how to properly prepare himself or find a stable direction.
Still, he continued along his path.
​
These waves of overthinking appeared intermittently. But whenever they surfaced, Eddy became noticeably less effective.
It took him far more time to create anything. His passion faded and his determination weakened.
Even brief periods in front of the computer within his chamber of the ruins left him exhausted.
Why not change, if he was starting to suffer? Was it fear holding him back?
Or had this space become a comfort zone, one in which he had begun to recognize its negative aspects?
In the end, Eddy chose to continue. At that point, he could do little else but follow the galactic system that surrounded him.
A structure he could not truly control. And at the same time, he allowed himself to find what enjoyment he could within his laboratory, beneath the watchful presence of the porthole.
Chapter 6: Eternal Mystical Encounter
On January 10, 2017, a star not far from the Milky Way went supernova. The explosion sent shockwaves through nearby regions, and several celestial bodies within the Orion Arm were briefly engulfed by an unexpected drop in temperature. The galactic radiation that normally kept Eddy's native region stable and warm was temporarily weakened by the disturbance.
​
Within only a few days, equilibrium was restored. Yet something had changed. In the distant celestial background, a new nebula had formed. And from that moment on, every time Eddy ventured beyond enclosed regions, he could not help but notice it.
Its brilliance, its colors and its light... They reflected something within him, almost like tears. Echoes of a past shaped by silent trauma.
​
The nebula itself was not harmful. It radiated no known threat. And yet, for reasons Eddy could not explain, whenever he observed it for extended periods of time, he began to cry. Not violently and not suddenly. Quietly. This reaction persisted, while days turned into weeks, stretching into February. Eddy was not yet ready to face what this presence awakened within him.
His life had settled into monotony, and confronting such intensity felt impossible. The month passed as if it were a single instant. Then came 15th February. At first, it unfolded like any other where nothing appeared different. But everything changed when Eddy, lost in silent reflection, began to retrace the trauma he had carried throughout his sub-stellar evolution.
In that distracted state, he collided with an unfamiliar object. It resembled a stylus, the kind used on interactive surfaces.
A light-grey pen. Strangely light and easy to handle. Yet what struck him most was its clarity.
Its surface was reflective. So reflective that Eddy could see himself within it. And, beyond his own image, the reflection of the newly formed nebula. In that mirrored surface, the nebula no longer appeared as a cloud.
It resembled a mechanism, like a "cosmological gear". An arrangement of motion and intent. Overcome by a sudden spark of inspiration, Eddy began to draw. He drew a celestial body, something that resembled himself.
He added two eyes, but... closed. Perhaps to avoid witnessing the harshness of reality.
Or perhaps for another reason entirely. Moments later, he drew something else. Eddy designed a geometric figure, one he would later define as:
"A soul surrounded by a ring, bearing twelve points within it."
​
Without hesitation, he gave it a name.
"This is my Fire Determination."
​
A sudden glow enveloped the entity, filling it with vitality, together with the newborn celestial body drawn moments before by Eddy.
For an instant, the brown dwarf stood motionless, staring at what he had created. A thought crossed his mind, hesitant and unsettled.
"Why does it look like it's breathing? Is it... alive?"
​
Before he could reach any conclusion, a voice answered him.
"Precisely. Although, to be accurate, I-"
Not from the surrounding space, but directly from the luminous entity itself. Eddy recoiled in shock.
His thoughts spiraled instantly. Questions collided with fear, confusion layered upon disbelief. What have I awakened? or Is that pen magical? or even Does it bring drawings to life, like some kind of wand? Unable to hold it in, Eddy shouted:
"AM I HAVING HALLUCINATIONS?!"
​
The entity, however, did not mirror his panic. Instead, it released a light, almost amused laugh.
"Ahahah... If you give me a moment to explain, I can tell you what I truly am."
As the glow stabilized, the entity began to speak again, its tone calm and deliberate. It explained that it was something known as an Eternal Mystical Soul.
"You see, we are Eternal Mystical Souls; EMS, for short. We do not follow a fixed classification.
The soul also explained:
"When creators in possession of a pen like yours draw their first true creation, and, most importantly, entrust it with a defining title. An act of self-description condensed into meaning; we come into existence."
The entity paused briefly, as if choosing its words carefully.
"Through that act, we form; we develop awareness. We become a kind of inner voice of the creator."
​
Then, with a subtle shift in tone:
"And it would seem that I am meant to be yours."
​
Eddy hesitated, still struggling to process what he was hearing:
"So... are you some version of my future self?"
​
Before the entity could respond, the surrounding light began to fade. The fabric of space itself seemed to slow, as if time were being dragged through a dense medium. Something massive was approaching. It was not a black hole, but something else.
Something distorted; something... corrupted. And as that presence drew nearer, fear surged through Eddy's core.
From within a dense, toxic shroud, a ring slowly emerged. Then another, And another still.
​
Pale, luminous rings appeared one after the other, cutting through the haze like pulsars. Only after a few moments did the rest of the form reveal itself. A massive celestial body advanced forward, its surface marked by fluorescent green, black, and white bands.
Across its surface stretched a long, distorted fissure, resembling a mouth carved from one side of the planet to the other.
It was only then that Eddy realized the truth. Those luminous rings were eyes; which looked directly upon his core.
​
The corrupted body drifted closer, its presence growing heavier with every passing second, before suddenly stopping.
With a single, deliberate motion, it inhaled the surrounding green and black haze, absorbing the toxic clouds entirely into itself, as if drawing breath through a vacuum. There were no words at first. Yet Eddy felt violent surges ripple through his convective layers, like lightning striking deep beneath the surface. Then came a sound, a slow, distorted breath.
"That pen... would belong to me."
​
Before the words could fully settle, the luminous entity beside Eddy attempted to respond.
"Technically, it is his-"
​
The corrupted giant interrupted instantly, its voice fractured and cold.
"A young EMS like you... pathetic. And above all, disrespectful. Disappear! I am not speaking to you."
The massive, highly oblate body began to circle him slowly; its gaze doesn't left Eddy.
"It seems you've already made yourself a friend. EMS are weak constructs. Bodies that defy gravity yet shatter at the first anomaly that strikes them."
A pause followed, heavy and deliberate.
"Although... I must admit... what a crazy bad time."
The sentence ended with a low, sinister laugh, warped by interference. Eddy trembled, both from the unnatural cold radiating outward and from the fear clawing at his core.
"What... what are you?"
Its distorted face remaining perfectly aligned with Eddy's gaze. Then it answered.
"I am the error of your moment."
​
The words struck like a corrupted signal, piercing through Eddy and sinking directly into his core. The seconds stretched, growing heavier and more exhausting with every breath. Eddy tried to ask what purpose the pen truly served to him, but the corrupted celestial body reacted violently, its voice rising into a distorted shout.
"You have exhausted your questions. I will not ask again."
​
Before the words could settle, the entity born of Determination stepped forward, refusing to retreat.
"If you intend to reset the pen, you would need to erase all of his creations. And without his consent, you cannot-"
​
The corrupted body interrupted the explanation by unleashing a planetary storm directly at the entity. The impact was immense. Yet the entity absorbed the entire assault without suffering the slightest damage. Eddy stood frozen, more confused than ever, and far more afraid. Still, he gathered enough courage to speak.
"Are you... working on something?"
​
The gaseous giant stared at the brown dwarf in silence, its gaze heavy with threat. Then, at last, it responded.
"You are inept. Someone like you will not go far."
​
The words echoed painfully within Eddy, resonating with memories he had carried for far too long.
But this time, he did not yield. Instead, he answered back.
"Are you afraid of being wrong?"
The giant halted. Seconds passed. Then, with a distorted smile, it replied:
"Very well, I am curious to hear your little story. Tell me, 'small one', how do you intend to deny the statement of a cosmic anomaly such as myself?"
​
Eddy hesitated. Then, an idea surfaced. Absurd, Unexpected. A rap battle.
The corrupted body burst into warped laughter.
"Of all possible outcomes, even a direct clash of surfaces, you choose a 'rap battle'? This is how you intend to redeem yourself?! Please..."
Eddy replied without hesitation.
"At least history will credit us for this moment. After all, we would be the first to attempt it."
​
The corrupted entity paused, processing the statement. For the first time, its expression shifted. Perhaps the brown dwarf was not as insignificant as it had assumed.
"Hmm... Very well. If you lose, say farewell to everything you have created. If you win... perhaps we may reach a compromise."
A brief pause followed.
"Though I doubt it will be necessary."
​
The corrupted body summoned an amplifier, forged from its own lightning, crackling with unstable energy.
Without hesitation, it spoke once more:
"Then let us begin the dance... as long as you can keep pace with this... glitchy moment."
And so the music started. After a relentless exchange, during which the brown dwarf struggled to evade waves of toxic lightning, the green giant finally slowed. For the first time since his arrival, he acknowledged the difficulty of the challenge he himself had imposed.
With a measured pause, the corrupted celestial body revealed his identity. He was Etlat. He did not linger on introductions.
"Considering that you have, indeed, earned the right to keep your pen after this challenge, I now require something in return."
"After all, it was you who proposed a project in which you might... perhaps... be useful."
​
His gaze shifted toward the newborn celestial body with closed eyes. His voice hardened.
"What is its name?"
​
Eddy hesitated. He had not planned for this moment. So he chose the first one that felt right.
"Oh... him? His name is... Dragon Soul."
​
Etlat repeated it slowly.
"Dragon Soul. Hmph... Very well."
​
He turned away almost immediately.
"Do you have to work now?"
​
Eddy instinctively shook his head. Without stopping, the giant began to move toward a different sector of space, then spoke again, his tone sharp and impatient.
"I have borrowed one of your creations. Hurry up! We have things to attend to."
​
In silence, Eddy followed the green giant toward an unfamiliar destination. For the first time since entering the ruins, he understood that his laboratory, or his space; would have to wait.
Chapter 7: Where Everything is Mixed Together
Etlat guided Eddy through a new region of the Orion Arm. Eddy attempted to ask where they were headed, but Etlat continued forward without answering, maintaining a steady trajectory and complete silence. The brown dwarf lowered his gaze toward Dragon Soul. The newborn celestial body drifted beside him, unchanged, its eyes still closed. Eddy remained quiet for a moment, then turned his attention inward. A thought pierced his core, heavy and unresolved.
"Who is Etlat, really?"
​
The luminous entity responded, not through sound, but as a shared current of thought.
"I do not know, Eddy. But it seems that this celestial body has encountered an EMS like me before. The problem is that I cannot understand what he thinks... His presence feels almost wrapped in something... a substance I cannot interact with, and ther-"
The voice stopped abruptly. Another presence took its place; Etlat. Somehow, he had sensed that the thoughts were directed at him.
"Even if I cannot hear what you are saying, I can feel your emotions,"
​
He said coldly:
"So tell me; are you going to mind your own business, or not?"
​
Eddy hesitated. His instinctive curiosity overcame his caution.
"Uh... why are you so... unsettling?"
​
Etlat did not slow down. His response came sharp and immediate.
"That is a story which does not concern you. Like I said, Mind your own affairs."
No further words followed. In silence, they continued their journey. Once they reached what appeared to be a celestial sea within the Orion Arm, Etlat guided the brown dwarf toward a group of other celestial bodies. At first glance, they seemed noticeably more approachable. At least, they appeared to be. Among them stood a massive bluish rocky giant named Mirken, and beside him, a yellowish gaseous dwarf planet known as Venilo.
Each of them was accompanied by a smaller celestial body, similar in scale to Dragon Soul. Unlike Dragon Soul, however, their eyes were open. Their surface marked with details that evoked a post-apocalyptic aesthetic. What unsettled Eddy further was the realization that Etlat himself possessed a minor celestial body of the same kind. Its name was Deformian.
​
Eddy introduced himself, but almost immediately he felt out of place. Something about this group felt wrong to him. Etlat turned toward him and spoke plainly.
"Eddy, this is my group. A team of mercenary celestial bodies. We make ourselves respected by working together; by eliminating those who seek to harm others. And we earn our share by protecting weaker bodies."
That was the problem. Eddy was not a warrior. He lacked the temperament, the aggression, the disposition required for such a role.
He was gentle and naive; but most importantly, introverted. Etlat continued, seemingly unfazed.
"And yet, you have proven that you are capable of great things. Especially when you think in terms of prosperity, future outcomes, and cooperation."
Then he followed:
"Not qualities essential for a mercenary, but highly compatible with our project."
​
Etlat paused briefly before naming it.
"We call it, Absolute Mingle."
​
He shifted his gaze toward Dragon Soul.
"It might interest you. You might even prove your worth here. That is... if your minor body can pass the trial."
​
The atmosphere changed abruptly. A clash erupted. This time, it was not a rap battle. It was a direct confrontation; raw forces colliding, elements reacting violently against one another. Eddy recoiled. This was not what he wanted.
The first battle did not last long. The moment Venilo prepared itself, clad in heavy and reinforced equipment, Dragon Soul opened his eyes. A sudden shift filled the space. Flames ignited around him, forming a swarm of fire spheres that orbited his body in perfect balance. From his gaze burst an intense radiance, a light strikingly similar to that of the entity created by Eddy.
The signal to begin was given. In the very next instant, Venilo charged forward with overwhelming force.
Dragon Soul reacted without hesitation. The fire spheres launched outward, colliding directly with the attacker.
The impact was decisive. Dragon Soul won, but there was no time to celebrate; Eddy yelled:
"No, no, no! Dragon Soul, Fire Determination, we're leaving! This… this is not for us."
​
Before Eddy could fully retreat, Mirken and Etlat moved to block their path. Fear took over. In a burst of instinctive motion, Eddy accelerated abruptly, leaving behind a glowing trail as he rushed forward. He reached Dragon Soul in an instant, pulling both him and his soul close. The battlefield was left behind. For Eddy, the encounter had been unbearable.
​
He fled, desperate to put distance between himself and that group, hoping never to see Etlat nor his companions again.
As he ran, Eddy glanced toward Dragon Soul. Within his eyes, he saw something unexpected. Hope.
​
Eddy wanted to ask questions. He wanted to understand. But Dragon Soul appeared unharmed. and Stable.
Without stopping, Eddy continued onward, heading back toward the only place he still considered safe.
His laboratory. Once he returned to his refuge, Eddy settled into a corner of the chamber, exhausted.
Dragon Soul and Fire Determination remained near the porthole, silently observing the state of the universe beyond it, an expanse shaped, in part, by Eddy himself. Dragon Soul appeared visibly fascinated by what he saw. Fire Determination, instead, remained quiet, seemingly lost in thought. Eddy, still catching his breath, asked whether Fire Determination might be capable of studying the strange substance that had surrounded Etlat.
The entity did not answer immediately. It considered the question carefully. While waiting, Eddy turned his attention to the pen.
Curiosity took over. He accessed the computer and began searching for information, attempting to understand what the pen was truly capable of. What he discovered was unsettling.
​
The pen was designed to displace and compress localized regions of space, enabling the formation of celestial bodies according to the user's intent. It could determine which particles, atoms, or molecules were to be created. All that was required was a single existing instance. From that point on, the pen could replicate it, generating matter autonomously.
​
It was, in essence, a divine finger. A construct developed by an entity known as Berserk Industries. After some time, Fire Determination spoke again. It asked Eddy to search for anything related to exotic particles, or similar phenomena.
The results were... intriguing. A scientific research division known as Stellar Inspection Particles, led by a certain Doctor Wade, had documented the existence of a particle referred to as the Stress Particle.
When accumulated, these particles formed a viscous substance, almost broth-like in consistency, tinted with a violet-blue hue.
The material was known as Stress Fluid. According to the research, a Stress Particle could be created by compressing an isolated photon in a precise manner. Through this process, the photon transformed into something fundamentally different; smaller, yet far more complex. The paper extended for pages.
​
Eddy found himself admiring Wade's work. Meanwhile, Fire Determination focused on understanding how such a system might be bypassed, or manipulated; how a celestial body might behave if entirely saturated with this so-called Stress Particle.
Throughout all of this, Dragon Soul remained near the porthole.
He was particularly drawn to the 3rd bubble. Strangely so. It was as if he felt a form of contact there; something subtle, something that could be interacted with. Eventually, Dragon Soul turned to Eddy and asked whether, when Eddy was busy, he might be allowed to spend more time observing through the porthole.
Hearing this, Eddy paused. Then, despite the tension lingering in the air, he almost smiled.
He agreed. From that moment on, it became clear that they were no longer separate presences.
They were companions now. And for the time being, none of them had anywhere else to go.
Chapter 8: A Brand New Idea
As days passed, Eddy began to understand Fire Determination and Dragon Soul more deeply. He observed their potential, their limitations, and their aspirations. Fire Determination proved to be deeply mystical. Not furious, nor cold, but guided by a level of wisdom and maturity that felt uncommon, almost alien. However, its nature was clear.
It could learn, reflect, and advise, but it could not alter what it fundamentally was. That did not mean it could not merge or synchronize with a celestial body created by Eddy himself, provided that body was not already occupied by another Eternal Mystical Soul. Dragon Soul, it seemed, already possessed one. That soul had not been created deliberately. Probably borned the moment Eddy spoke those words.
​
As Fire Determination later confirmed, those words were not ancient formulas, nor spells, nor commands previously known.
They carried power not because of what they were, but because of how they were spoken. The intent behind them had awakened both the entity and Dragon Soul itself. Even so, there was still much left to understand. And much left to test.
The stylus remained an enigma.
​
How much of what they had discovered across the galactic network was truly accurate? How far did the pen's influence really extend? Those questions lingered, unresolved, waiting for answers yet to be found.
At that point, an idea took shape in Eddy's mind. To test it.
​
Not far from the ruins, away from the controlled space of his laboratory, he wished to experiment and, through that process, understand the true potential of the stylus. Not to crave its power, nor to exploit it recklessly, but to comprehend its details.
To know how to use it only when necessity demanded it.
Fire Determination, on the other hand considered the proposal carefully. After a moment of reflection, and given the apparent calm of the situation, it agreed to follow Eddy outside. Meanwhile, the young Dragon Soul remained near the porthole. His attention was fixed on the third bubble.
​
He attempted to reach one of its characters, not as a piece meant to obey a narrative, but as a living and sentient entity.
And somehow, in a way even he did not fully understand, Dragon Soul released a faint spark of his power toward that presence.
The timeline did not shift. The flow remained stable. Perhaps a story imbued with greater force also demanded greater responsibility.
The responsibility to take risks. The responsibility to accept the possibility of loss. Losing everything and of everyone. Even at the cost of life itself.
​
Throughout the entire month of March, Eddy trained under the guidance and supervision of Fire Determination. The goal was not only to learn how to use the stylus, but also when to use it. Control mattered as much as capability. This marked the true peak of Eddy's learning process. He studied techniques of defense, creation, and refinement, pushing himself to understand every aspect he could barely control at first. He learned through effort, repetition, and determination, advancing slowly but with purpose.
To master these techniques meant more than technical proficiency.
It meant understanding the true meaning of his ideas and accepting their weight, without being paralyzed by the fear of consequences. Yet there was one thing Eddy struggled to unlearn. His tendency to worry excessively about the judgment of others.
That habit, deeply rooted in a past that had never been gentle, lingered stubbornly within him.
Despite this, Eddy proved resilient when approaching his limits. The question remained whether that resilience would endure once those limits were surpassed. Fire Determination, however, was not fully prepared either. It was still a young Eternal Mystical Soul, one that also needed to grow, even if it could not change its fundamental nature. This imbalance was perceptible. Eddy, once focused, often became fixated. Stubborn, direct, unyielding.
And yet, paradoxically, he cared deeply about the opinions of others; which resulted in a constant internal conflict.
Most of the time, he knew which path to choose and which to avoid. The real difficulty emerged when both options carried significant consequences. In the end, Eddy began to understand himself better than he ever had before.
To reinterpret his past rather than be defined by it. And to think that all of this had unfolded within the first three months of 2017.
It was only the beginning. Or perhaps, the end of something else. On April 8, 2017, a star not far from Eddy's training zone went supernova. The explosion released vast amounts of material, the kind that would one day seed the birth and formation of a new generation of planetary bodies. Unfortunately, the training area, while distant from the ruins, was not far enough to remain unaffected.
The outer edges of the supernova expanded at extreme velocity, rushing toward Eddy, Fire Determination, and Dragon Soul.
The situation became critical within seconds. Instinctively, Eddy grabbed the stylus and attempted to generate a force shield, positioning it between himself and the incoming storm of cosmic particles, both light and heavy. Fire Determination was too far away. The shield formed only around Eddy and Dragon Soul. Still, it was enough.
​
As the barrier absorbed the impact, Fire Determination began processing particles and elements right inside the stormcloud.
Information accumulated rapidly, patterns forming through absorption and extrapolation. For Eddy and Dragon Soul, however, the experience was anything but calm. The stylus began to glow with a deep reddish hue.
It was overheating, absorbing too much thermal energy. Reacting on instinct, Eddy rotated the pen, striking the still-intact side of its structure against the flow.Miraculously, that adjustment was enough. The shield stabilized and the storm passed. Both Eddy and Dragon Soul remained unharmed. When the space finally settled, the trio stood intact.
Fire Determination was now rich with newly acquired data. Eddy and Dragon Soul were left staring at a stylus that had nearly ignited in his grasp. Only then did Eddy notice something new. Among the available options displayed by the stylus, there was an unfamiliar entry. Stress Particle.
​
At the sight of the option, Dragon Soul spoke softly, almost in a whisper:
"You will not use it... right, Eddy?"
Eddy did not answer directly. He let out a deep, heavy sigh, and in an attempt to distract himself, he looked around, checking if anyone had been injured. Strangely, the area was completely empty. Perhaps the zone had already been evacuated. Or perhaps the warning had never reached the trio. What remained, however, was impossible to ignore.
​
Like a wide, scattered trail, the temporary shield Eddy had created had left behind a significant amount of material, rich with stellar potential. Gas, dust, and elements both light and heavy drifted quietly through space.
Almost instinctively, an idea formed in Eddy's mind. A new home. For himself. Carefully, he selected the appropriate option on the stylus display. With steady movements and deliberate control, Eddy began compressing the cloud, slowly and gently, as if following a recipe rather than forcing an outcome.
​
A disk began to take shape. Then, at its center, a faint glow appeared. For safety, the trio moved away from the epicenter, giving the formation space and time to stabilize. Within roughly twenty four hours, during that quiet galactic weekend, a new yellow dwarf star formed, similar to Sol, accompanied by a small planet. The trio approached the newborn celestial bodies.
With a subtle contribution of light from the EMS, Dragon Soul focused on the planet, while Fire Determination turned its attention to the star. Both responded. Both awakened. A new system had been born. And the surrounding cosmos noticed.
Eddy slowly approached the center of the system and spoke softly to the two newborn celestial bodies:
"Hey, Ink. How are you?"
​
The star open his eyes and looked around, confused. This new existence offered no words yet. Ink turned slowly, noticing its planet, whose expression appeared uncertain and fragile. Sensing the hesitation, the brown dwarf stepped closer and reassured him:
"It is alright. Sedmer is fine. He just needs time to find his balance. I am sure you will both feel better very soon."
Ink remained silent, despite the clearly visible mouth formed on his surface. Still, Eddy felt an immediate attachment to this system.
He liked how it had formed, how natural and fragile it felt. Dragon Soul appeared genuinely happy. Fire Determination, however, spoke with a calm and distant tone:
"Now is the time to be responsible, Eddy. Remember this. Whatever you create, you must carry it with you. Never abandon it."
​
Eddy nodded, confident in his resolve. He would do everything in his power to ensure that promise was kept.
Yet, unknowingly, he had not accounted for what this galactic spring and summer would bring.
Chapter 9: An Unwritten Promise
The cycle of the PNES continued, relentless and exhausting, year after year. Each time, Eddy felt its weight more intensely, as if the balance was always off. There were periods where the learning load was minimal, slow, and painfully boring for a mind that never truly fit within that imposed system.
​
And then there were the opposite periods. Frenetic. Overloaded. Poorly managed. Every spring, at the beginning of June, it was always the same story. They called it the "Final Rush for No Turn Back". In theory, it was meant to help struggling brown dwarfs recover severe gaps in preparation, in order to face the annual PN Exam and advance to the next stage.
​
In practice, it was a race against time. Every hour mattered. Every mistake carried weight. A single misstep could mean the difference between a stable score, a high result, or a sudden collapse. And in most cases, it was exactly that. A breakdown. Eddy survived it almost every year by a narrow margin, barely holding on until the very end. Not because he lacked commitment during the year, but because he was never suited for sudden spikes of pressure.
Those peaks destabilized him, draining his productivity, especially during the latter half of the day. Interest faded. Rest became insufficient. And slowly, he found himself unable to take care of his own projects. Like an enforced pause. A temporal freeze that lasted until mid summer.
During this period, Eddy was barely present, both in his laboratory and within his newly formed system. Only toward July was he able to grant himself some time, even though his energy was scarce. It took nearly an entire month for him to recover. Fortunately, Fire Determination and Dragon Soul remained, taking minimal care of Ink and Sedmer respectively.
While slowly regaining strength, the brown dwarf began experimenting with new methods to promote his planetary system, hoping that another celestial body might notice it and keep Sedmer company, who had started to feel a growing sense of absence. Yet, only certain specific flares seemed to resonate with the cosmos.
Others, especially those Eddy considered healthier and more suitable for his system, were almost completely ignored. Seeing these results affected him deeply. He withdrew more often into his laboratory, where he would test and refine new aspects in isolation.
After hours of experimentation, he would emerge, exhausted, and present a new flare to Ink.
​
This rhythm, however, was unhealthy. For the system. And for Eddy himself. Fire Determination did not intervene.
Dragon Soul stayed close to Sedmer. And so, it was Eddy and Ink who remained alone. The yellow star spoke, with genuine sincerity, asking what Eddy's true limits of endurance were. The brown dwarf did not answer.
From his expression, it was impossible to tell whether he was thinking deeply or quietly losing motivation. Ink noticed the hesitation and spoke again:
"If you have a plan, say it. I can allow myself to make a sacrifice, if it means helping Sedmer."
​
Eddy did not know how to respond immediately. After a brief pause, he asked instead:
"How much do you care about him?"
​
Ink answered without hesitation:
"He is my son. I would do anything to see him smile and grow among the right kind of people."
​
Eddy understood the implication immediately. More flares could bring attention. More attention could bring new celestial bodies.
But he also knew that this would deeply destabilize Ink. Still, with a sharp and uncomfortable tone, he asked:
"How far would you be willing to go, using flares, just to attract others?"
​
Ink replied with equal coldness:
"I am your creation, Eddy. In theory, you can use me until exhaustion."
That answer struck harder than Eddy expected. Responsibility weighed heavily on him, and instead of relief, it only made him feel worse. Yet, perhaps this was part of growing up. Perhaps it was a lesson Fire Determination had already shared with Ink while Eddy was overwhelmed by the PNES. After a long moment of silence, Eddy made a decision. He began doing things he deeply disliked.
The flares became more unstable, more intense, and less aligned with what he believed was healthy.
​
But they worked. Interest began to form. New celestial bodies noticed the system. Among them were Sanisk and Hamsiko. Despite the heavy sacrifice, the system filled rapidly. Perhaps too rapidly. New celestial bodies arrived in large numbers, among them Shred, who openly admired the brown dwarf's expansionist vision. Growth followed growth, until it became clear that without proper structure, the system risked collapsing under its own weight.
A new form of management was needed, before everything imploded. And from afar, someone was watching. Etlat. He had observed how Eddy was forcefully using the flares and unstable emissions of his newly born star to promote the system. A bold, harsh move.
To Etlat, it looked like the work of a manipulator hardened by pressure. A quality that was not only useful for cooperation, but highly valued among those he called mercenaries.
​
Etlat did not intend to waste this fragment of a brown dwarf he had underestimated from the beginning. Yet, knowing Etlat's true nature, one question lingered in his mind. Did he truly want a serious collaboration? Or would this mercenary path shape Eddy into something colder, more ruthless, forged by isolation and necessity? The memory of their rap battle resurfaced.
​
Slowly, deliberately, Etlat decided to approach Eddy with a proposal. A pact that would not be forgotten.
Without warning, Etlat moved. He isolated Eddy from all other contact, drawing him away quietly and efficiently. The sudden separation startled the brown dwarf, but he forced himself to remain steady. He was no longer an unprotected fragment. Not anymore.
The green giant finally spoke, his tone sharp and amused:
"Well, well, well. It seems someone has learned how to be ruthless, using projects for personal benefit. Now we understand each other."
Eddy felt compelled to respond, but no words came out. Etlat tilted his head slightly and continued:
"Feeling guilty? Interesting. Let us see if I can remove that feeling with a proposal."
​
He moved closer.
"Those little ones are not for you. Why not join me and become a mercenary? The rewards are generous, and you would harden your surface like a real brute."
Eddy immediately rejected the idea. He explained that his goal was not domination, but care. That he was not the hardened figure Etlat imagined, but a creative celestial body who had no intention of harming anyone. Etlat did not listen. Instead, he insisted, claiming that such a role was inevitable for someone like Eddy, and that what he had already done could easily become something destructive. But when Eddy became stubborn, refusing to change course, Etlat changed strategy. Quietly.
​
If Eddy truly cared about his community, then perhaps he could be used as the perfect trap. Etlat began considering a collaboration in appearance only. A partnership designed to overwhelm Eddy with stress, forcing him into inaction. A contract shaped entirely by Etlat's terms, conditions, and interpretations. One that would slowly push Eddy toward collapse.
Before finalizing his plan, Etlat asked one final question:
"So, Eddy. What do you truly want?"
Eddy answered with a long and detailed explanation of his vision for the future of his system.
As Etlat listened, his thoughts aligned. A "perfect" collaboration. One that would lead Eddy to destroy his own creation, only to reshape him into a mercenary.
​
Etlat spoke again:
"If your goal is to bring your community higher, but you need help managing flares, maintaining control, and refining the surrounding space, then I can assist you. But only under certain conditions."
​
He paused.
"If you want me to take control, I will need your written consent. A formal authorization that allows me to manage your system."
​
Then, colder:
"Furthermore, from that moment on, I will decide when you are allowed to generate flares or attract new celestial bodies. Without my approval, you will do nothing."
A brief silence followed.
"And if you refuse, I will dismantle this collaboration entirely. The same way you created it, I can destroy it. Is that clear?"
Eddy hesitated. This was not a harmless toy. This was planetary containment. Yet, believing such control was necessary to stabilize the rapid growth of his system, and to retain the many new observers drawn in so quickly, Eddy agreed. A decision made with good intentions. And one that would soon prove how dangerous ignoring the details could be. The pact was sealed.
​
Almost immediately, small and nearly invisible dark clouds spread throughout the chaotic planetary system. Thin, elongated particles stretched like filaments, embedding themselves everywhere without drawing attention. Ink was the first to feel it. A strange pull. A loss of movement. Something was wrong. Just in time for the galactic Halloween, Etlat assigned Eddy his first task.
​
He instructed him to record a video announcing the new collaboration and the revised management of the stellar system.
Eddy complied quickly, producing something simple yet acceptable, and sent the recording directly to Etlat. With far greater experience in the field, Etlat edited the material himself and transmitted it as a luminous signal toward Ink. When the star received the signal, Ink decided to observe it carefully. Something was wrong.
​
The flare carried a corrupted quality, as if an error had occurred during the editing process. Whether it was an accidental interference or a deliberate alteration by Etlat, Ink could not tell. With no real alternative, Ink took a deep breath and absorbed the signal, re-emitting it as a new publication visible to the entire galactic arm.
Immediately after, a strange sensation followed. A bitter aftertaste. Almost acidic. Once the video had been released, Sedmer rushed toward his friends, Sanisk and Hamsiko, eager to show them the announcement. Between laughter and excitement, the trio found themselves inspired; an idea formed. Perhaps it was time to publish a new video of their own.
​
Sedmer, together with the other two celestial bodies, began recording a game that had already been featured within Ink's system.
Choosing familiar content guaranteed broader visibility, allowing the community, and consequently the system itself, to grow even further. Yet, the pact between Etlat and Eddy told a different story.
Once the recording was complete, Sedmer handed the material to Eddy. Over the following days, Eddy worked on the final edit, gradually gaining more experience in video editing, even if it was still a form of pocket scale filmmaking. When the video was ready, Eddy brought it to Etlat.
​
Etlat watched it briefly, then replied calmly:
"Do you not think it is too early?"
​
Eddy waited. After a few days, he asked again... And again. Each time, Etlat responded with the same words, like a machine repeating a preset command. Only on November 25th, 2017, did Etlat finally give his approval for the release, strictly under his supervision. Unfortunately, the timing could not have been worse. By then, both Sanisk and Hamsiko had stepped away from the system, turning their attention elsewhere after more than two weeks of waiting.
​
When Ink finally released the video as a luminous signal, both returned; but this time, they came with a specific request.
They wanted to officially enter Ink's system, to stay close to Sedmer. An echo rose from the trio, forming a faint melody that spread through Etlat's dark clouds. The moment Etlat sensed this movement, he reacted instantly. Like a trick of corrupted magic, he teleported directly in front of Sedmer, Eddy, Sanisk, and Hamsiko.
The smaller celestial bodies froze in fear. Eddy immediately recognized his presence. With a distorted, reverberating voice, the green giant spoke:
"I am sorry, little ones, but your beloved brown dwarf made a pact with me. According to that agreement, no one enters this system without my approval."
His gaze hardened.
"And you, who look like ignorant children, would be wise to return to your own orbits before I make your time far more unpleasant."
Sanisk and Hamsiko vanished. Sedmer remained behind, paralyzed by shock. Fear spread through him, not only because of Etlat, but because of Eddy's silence. As the dark distortion faded, Eddy stood still for a moment, staring at Sedmer.
Then, without saying a word, he turned away. He isolated himself, retreating into the ruins, back to the chamber where Dragon Soul and Fire Determination were waiting.
​
Sedmer could no longer hold it in. He broke down, crying, and rushed toward his father, Ink. He did not want to live under the control of a threatening entity like Etlat. But Ink did not answer. He stared silently toward the ruins, as if preparing to speak with Eddy himself. That hesitation lingered. It stretched through the end of the year. Until January 18th, 2018. The day Ink decided that something had to change.
Chapter 10: The Weight of the Pact
This was no longer about silly stories, it's the consequences of the pact. Eddy found himself in a critical state. His breathing became unstable, his surface darkened, and his glow weakened significantly. Without hesitation, he left Fire Determination and Dragon Soul behind in the secret chamber, retreating deeper into the ruins to deal with the overwhelming stress.
​
At that moment, Ink arrived. The star did not waste time. He placed before Eddy a truth the brown dwarf had been afraid to face:
"His goal is not to make you popular. His goal is to dismantle you, to erase your control over the system you created. What he wants is to claim it for himself."
Ink's light dimmed slightly.
"A graveyard. A silent region of the Orion Arm where he alone can reign, perhaps as an outpost for plans far greater than we can imagine."
Eddy listened carefully, desperately searching for an alternative. But the star, bright and steady like Sol, spoke again, this time with an undeniable weight of truth:
"If you want to destroy the system and create a new one, then you must destroy me."
The words struck Eddy's surface like a shockwave. The words “destroy me” echoed through the ruins, just like the melody that once marked the request for entry. And this time, it was heard by the same disturbing green gas planet. Hidden within the dark clouds, Etlat captured the conversation, releasing only a minimal portion of his corrupted mist to listen in. It was enough to locate the ancient ruins.Unaware of this, Ink continued:
"Only you can destroy the system. For the sake of my son, give him a place where he can grow without trauma, A healthier system. A future that does not repeat this cycle."
Eddy nodded. But he did not act immediately. Destroying one of his own creations required strength, not only physical energy, but also mental resolve. And he did not yet possess enough of either. After a deep breath of relief, Eddy spoke:
"How do you know the future will be better, especially for him?"
​
Ink replied in a tone that almost sounded like a reproach, but truly was not:
"Well, you are the one who brought us into existence. We are your responsibility. And even if you can do with us whatever you want, it is still better to drag us through something toxic than to abandon us to absolute silence."
​
Eddy fell silent once again. He did not want this situation. He did not want to destroy a project. But to carry a new generation forward, trying was still better than doing nothing. Even if not immediately. The brown dwarf asked:
"How much time do I have to choose?"
​
Ink answered calmly:
"That depends entirely on you, and on how much you truly care about your projects."
​
Eddy reflected, but before he could respond, Ink spoke again:
"Listen. I am going to Sedmer now. He needs me. I will not be the one to tell him about this. You will."
With that, the star moved away. And with it, the silent and subtle cloud of Etlat dissolved into the air. Eddy remained there, thinking.
And as a possible alternative, by his own spontaneous will, he decided to move toward Etlat. And so, Eddy moved away from the ruins, making sure they would not be damaged in case of a direct confrontation with Etlat.
​
Once at a safe distance, the brown dwarf shouted the name of the green giant. Almost immediately, once again, the cinematic cloud reappeared; and from within it, Etlat emerged. As the cloud dissolved, Etlat simply said:
"Eddy! My dear, what is stressing you this time?"
Without adding unnecessary details, the brown dwarf replied directly:
"I want to break the pact."
Etlat smiled faintly, then answered:
"So, you did not enjoy the November situation, huh? But these are the terms of the agreement. I am sorry, though not really, since it was you who accepted the pact. And now you simply want to go back? That is not how it works, my dear."
​
With a sudden impulse, while shaking off Etlat's toxic clouds, Eddy replied:
"DO NOT call me dear! You traumatized small celestial bodies because of this pact!"
Slightly annoyed, Etlat responded:
"Tsk. Not even a ‘how are you'? Have you ever learned any manners?! In any case, you accepted the pact. I was merely enforcing it. I might have even accepted them eventually."
​
Eddy did not reply. He truly did not know what to do anymore, but Etlat was more than willing to fill that void:
"Since when are you interested in destruction? Did you not want to create? You need to find a balance, my dear. You cannot always create. It becomes boring; Especially if you want to become popular. You must learn how to destroy, or perhaps, hire someone who can help you destroy."
​
Etlat continued:
"So, do you want to destroy?"
​
This time, despite the confusion, Eddy refused the offer. Etlat, visibly frustrated, replied:
"Remember this, calling me without being productive has a cost."
​
Without saying anything else, he disappeared. Days and weeks passed. Eddy continued moving back and forth with the PNES, which demanded increasingly more energy from the poor brown dwarf. Energy he could no longer use for his own interests.
Because of this, Ink's system remained silent. Meanwhile, inside the laboratory hidden within the ruins, Dragon Soul observed.
By reading and scrolling through the timelines of the various bubbles visible through the viewport, Dragon Soul began to understand Eddy's style.
How he thinks. How he describes himself. And even his most difficult moments. At a certain point, Fire Determination spoke:
"What are you trying to understand? You have been interacting with the timeline and those characters for quite some time now."
​
Dragon Soul replied:
"What will Eddy do with me? I am just a simple incandescent gas giant."
​
"I am no prophet, but you will likely be suitable as a core protector,"
the EMS replied.
Curious, Dragon Soul asked for more details about this "core". But the entity answered:
"You will discover it as you grow."
​
Shortly after, Eddy arrived. Exhausted from yet another heavy day dealing with the PNES, he did not remain there for long.
He greeted them, asked how they were doing, and then headed toward Ink's system.
Only this time, to perform simple checks. But once he reached Ink's system, Eddy had a realization.
Chapter 11: A Necessary Collapse
For several days, Eddy began working on a new video after nearly a month of silence. This time, he did not tell Etlat anything.He had made a decision: move forward and let the pact collapse on its own. Unfortunately, once the video was published and handed over to Ink, on February 11, his glow began to distort. The glow strangely changed its properties, as if it were issuing a warning.
Eddy immediately corrected the glow's details, but for a second time, the warning reappeared.
​
That was when Eddy realized it was Etlat; and with him, the pact. Ink, concerned by Eddy's choice, whispered to him, knowing Sedmer was watching the scene:
"Are you about to do it?"
​
Eddy did not answer. He immediately left to destroy any remaining connections that were destabilizing the gravitational routes which allowed easy access to the system. As a consequence, the glow suffered a sharp drop in loyalty. Right after that, Eddy said:
"Sedmer, come with me."
​
No explanation followed. Eddy may have blocked the paths, but Etlat knew how to act even without easy routes. He only needed time before launching his true counterattack. Sedmer asked for an explanation, but Eddy limited himself to a simple answer:
"Someone dear to you will die."
Sedmer's eyes widened.
​
In an instant, he began connecting the pieces, realizing that the one Eddy referred to could only be one celestial object; Ink.
Immediately after witnessing the shock that struck the small planet, Eddy spoke again:
"Start drawing an orbit around me. One where you will be able to feel safe."
In haste, Eddy returned to the ruins.
​
From afar, Etlat observed him, attempting to understand his movements. For now, he chose only to study him; Or rather, to control what he does. After a short while, Eddy exited the ruins together with Fire Determination and Dragon Soul.
That was when it became clear; the ruins were now empty.Silently, Etlat approached the main gates, only to realize that Eddy had not entered from there.
Searching through the area, Etlat eventually noticed the fateful secondary door with its numerical panel.
Although, He had no interest in knowing the code. He did not want to break or to steal anything. After all, Eddy could always rebuild it. Instead, Etlat chose a different path. To destroy the entire complex. From that moment on, Etlat began constructing an explosive mechanism, designed to activate only when someone inflicted physical harm upon the green giant. Eddy chose a date; March 08, 2018. At that point, Sedmer asked with all of his innocence:
"Why do you want to do it? And why on that specific day?"
​
Ink answered in Eddy's place:
"The reason for the date, I do not know, but Eddy is doing this for you, Sedmer."
​
The small planet tried to force the situation, asking if there were other paths, other solutions. But Eddy denied it.
"That giant possesses characteristics far too alien. Facing him directly is too risky. That substance of his makes him... almost immortal."
​
The EMS intervened:
"Eddy, what you are about to do is extremely risky. How can you know he will not return and do the same again?"
​
Once again, Eddy did not answer.He stared into the celestial background, overwhelmed by a mix of intense emotions,even though on the surface he appeared serious and composed. After a short while, the brown dwarf finally spoke:
"Dragon Soul, I hope you feel ready to manage your own system."
​
The small gaseous body asked:
"So... will Sedmer become one of my planets?"
​
Eddy replied with a dry, deeply meaningful negation; Another silent minute passed. Then, at last:
"That alien suggested I give birth to a celestial body and name it Berserk... but, I do not believe I am ready to form a complete system like the one I will plan for you, Dragon Soul."
​
He continued:
"And perhaps one day, when you are responsible enough, you will become his EMS, Fire Determination."
​
As for Sedmer, nothing was said. Perhaps because he had already been given a role, moments earlier.
Ink then asked:
"But about the date... why that day?"
​
Eddy answered simply:
"It inspires me."
​
But the space time continuum had other plans. Despite the imposed date, one variable had been underestimated.
Etlat. And so it all began suddenly, in the middle of March 3, 2018. In the very first instant, an electrified cloud materialized behind Fire Determination. The EMS reacted immediately, intercepting the anomaly and defending itself with its glow; The impact distorted the surrounding space.
​
But Sedmer and Dragon Soul were too close and they were engulfed by a dense shroud, and in a fraction of a second, the lightning within it tightened like stretched cords, wrapping around both celestial bodies. The energy pulled violently, as if trying to tear them apart from the inside. Then, with a violent surge of stress glow, Etlat emerged.
Every eye opened across his surface. All of them focused. All of them aware. His gaze pierced straight through the system, locking onto Ink. He was ready. Ready to drain the glow and force the collapse. Ready to turn Ink into a singularity under his control.
But Eddy immediately moved. Thanks to Fire Determination's glow, his reflexes sharpened beyond anything natural.
Time itself seemed to slow, bending around his perception. In a single motion, the brown dwarf raised his stylus and aimed it directly at Etlat's core. The green giant reacted with a distorted laugh:
"There is no creation without destruction."
​
Eddy did not hesitate, his glow burned cold. His gaze was as piercing as Etlat's.
"Then it's time for us to burn together in a singularity."
​
The moment those words were spoken, reality collapsed inward. What followed was a tremendous shock. Two flares erupted at the same time. One was made of darkness and what appeared to be Stress Fluid, swallowing the entire stellar surface of Ink. The other was a violent burst of light.
Eddy's stylus turned on, releasing a blinding beam that struck the corrupted giant directly, forcing him to loosen his grip on the energy cords that were trapping Sedmer and Dragon Soul. But not on Ink who was caught in the middle. A frenetic mixture of hope and stress tore through his structure.
Although both were pure forms of energy, their interaction collapsed into something else entirely. Dark matter. Ink's properties changed instantly. His hydrostatic equilibrium was no longer stellar in nature; It became something fundamentally different.
His atoms were replaced by particles born from the EMS's light and the unstable Stress Particle, forming a new, violent balance.
These new particles interacted with one another, generating fresh gravitational fields. Or rather, anomalies.
​
The anomalies stacked, overlapped, and wrapped around the entire star. At nearly the speed of light, Ink's outer layers began to compress to monstrous densities. Then, a single moment. A simple, devastating blue flash. The outer layers collapsed inward, crushing the stellar core itself, which it shattered.
​
Ordinary matter collapsed, breaking down into subatomic particles under extreme pressure, triggering a violent reaction.
Expansion followed. A wall of light surged outward, striking everything in its path and hurling them across space at impossible velocities. Etlat was nearly disintegrated.
Eddy, in that same instant, assimilated Fire Determination, stabilizing the orbit Sedmer had drawn around him. While Dragon Soul was thrown far away into the dark. Ink Star was gone. The glow faded within moments. From afar, it appeared to be nothing more than a simple supernova. But in that region of space, something else had formed. A small, unseen black body. A new Ink.
​
The remnants of the star slowly settled around the new celestial background. Eddy stood in silent awe. But beside him was Sedmer, who eyes have watched his father die. The trauma tore through him, from his surface all the way down to his core. He shivered uncontrollably, his complexion pale, to the point that all of his oceans withdrew. Frozen, trembling like fragile ice. The only remaining light of hope was Eddy.
And in that moment, Eddy understood his purpose. To take care of abandoned planets and to irradiate them with whatever little light he could still offer. Yes, as he grew, that light would become stronger; one day, it would be enough to help many other abandoned bodies like Sedmer. But for now, his promise was simple.
​
To take care of him; to place Sedmer above everything else. As the brown dwarf held the small planet in a steady embrace, he continued to gaze at the new sky. And then, overwhelmed by everything that had happened in such a short time, Eddy broke down; he cried. Sedmer realized what was happening.
He held the brown dwarf tightly, stabilizing his tremors, allowing liquid water to slowly return to his own surface. The days passed in silence, until March 8 arrived, a day in which there was truly nothing else left to do. For Eddy, however, this final act of destruction was not an ending, but a beginning. He collected the remaining material released by Ink's supernova, carefully capturing it within his stylus; which had remained intact throughout everything.
​
As he finished, he noticed a distant glow, steady and unmistakably present, bright but not explosive, not a supernova, rather a fixed light, as if it were pointing toward a destination. Eddy did not follow it, even though he knew it was Dragon Soul. The gaseous giant was using his EMS to communicate across cosmic distances with his creator, reaching out through light instead of words.
Instead, Eddy chose to fully assume the role of core protector for the gas giant.
He prepared the stylus, aimed it toward the distant glow, and after a few seconds of concentrated charge, released a beam of light and matter that surged forward through space. Hours later, Dragon Soul, exhausted from sustaining his glow for so long, noticed a light approaching. It grew steadily brighter until it reached him, enveloping his entire body and halting his movement, reducing his ability to escape to almost nothing.
​
Yet, despite being trapped within this new shell of matter, Dragon Soul did not feel threatened. On the contrary, he felt calm, almost soothed, as if the energy surrounding him were holding him gently, and soon after, he lost consciousness. When he awoke, the shell was gone. Dragon Soul felt different, heavier, denser, and above all, brighter. His structure had stabilized into something new. Dragon Soul had become a main sequence star, ready at last to host a system of his own.
​
For two entire months, Dragon Soul remained alone, ready to receive new celestial bodies, yet surrounded only by silence. He waited, perhaps unconsciously, for a community that would never arrive, holding his light steady in an empty sky. There was no movement, no response, only the quiet stability of a star that had prepared itself for a future that refused to begin.
​
Elsewhere, Eddy devoted himself entirely to taking care of Sedmer, until May 11, 2018 arrived. On his birthday, he decided to visit the ruins, wanting to see what remained of the place, fully expecting abandonment and decay. Instead, fate had chosen otherwise. As he approached the secondary access door, a dark, toxic cloud filled with violent lightning formed behind the brown dwarf, and from it emerged Etlat once again.
​
The giant reappeared, no longer green, but tinted with a bluish hue, his eyes multiplied beyond count, while his storms remained unchanged, as violent as ever. Without hesitation, Etlat seized Eddy and slammed him against the wall, shouting in rage:
"STOP CREATING!! YOU UNDERSTAND NOTHING, DON'T YOU?!"
​
The grip tightened relentlessly, and as the tidal forces threatened to tear him apart, a flare escaped from Eddy's surface.
The burst of plasma scorched the toxic giant, forcing him back. One final sentence followed:
"A direct attack, huh? You asked for it. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, YOU BASTARD!"
​
Etlat dissolved into his own clouds, but a spark leapt from the electrified cords he left behind.
Moments later, another explosion erupted. Another supernova followed, but this time it was different. The flash and the gravitational shockwave erased the ruins entirely, leaving nothing behind.
Yet at the epicenter, a second glow emerged, unstable and distorted; like an exposed singularity. From it, a secondary instability unfolded, launching new celestial bodies contained within shimmering bubbles, scattered violently in every direction.
​
Eddy recognized them immediately. He had already seen those celestial bodies months earlier, reflected through the viewport of the laboratory. What had once been potential, observation, and hypothesis had now been violently released into reality.
​
The singularity expelled all five bubbles before vanishing completely. One by one, they began to collapse. Eddy noticed the first anomaly and instinctively moved away, just as the first supernova detonated. Shortly after, the second followed, then the third, and soon after, the fourth, each collapse amplifying the instability of the surrounding space. The fifth bubble remained.
​
It was the one Eddy cared about the most. As it began to collapse, the cumulative instability of the previous detonations tore open a rupture in the fabric of the space-time, exactly where the fifth supernova should have formed.
The explosion still occurred, but in a far more devastating form, flooding the region with distorted light. The entire Milky Way flared, bending and warping under the strain, giving rise to an event that would later be remembered as:
"An Intergalactic Glitch."
​
[And from that moment on, the universe was no longer the same.]