titlesa Nulls always knew that existence was some sick joke concocted by himself. Now it didn't mean anything.
His ship lies between the edges of the two clashing creations. His ship was powered by the carcass of the previous creation, enough to switch off both creations and birth a new one.
Nulls ship has many rooms, each bypassing the laws of geometry. A room with the shape of a triangle but only has a ninety-degree angle.
A door that leads into a repeated pattern of fractals with the shape of a door. A circle room with a circumference that is immeasurably bigger than its diameter.
The size of the object changes depending on the observer's perspective.
That is just four amongst many of Nulls room.
A large empty room with nothing but one thing inside. The room walls were grayish, and the interior walls surrounding the room were shifting with every passing moment.
In the middle of the room, Nulls lay flat on his back; five bottles were visible next to him. Two were filled to the top while the other three were bone dry.
In the middle of every bottle, a big red X and the words 'Don't ever drink this beverage, no matter the timeline branch you were in' was etched onto their surface.
"I-i," Nulls said, his voice shaky and drunk. "I can drive this vessel myself." He promptly coughs several times to ease his throat.
He knew eons ago that numbing pain never cured it. "Useless" He throws a bottle at the wall. Then another, then another.
The sound of shattering bottles echoes through the ship, as it is the only thing beside him that can produce sound in this void.
"Who am I fooling?" He said as he manifested yet another bottle. "Let's get wasted up, fellas!!!" He took another shot, then another. Until he's drunk beyond mortal belief.
"I-I mean, it can drive itself, right?" His voice grew more drunk. He rubs his fingers on his temple; it is more like an attempt to scrape off the thought from his mind.
It was a failure, total and utter failure.
"Ughh, what am I even saying now?"
He glances over the two remaining bottles. And they looked back. Behind the two bottles is a pile of drink-up bottles.
He extends his left hand, trying to reach one of the bottles. He knows it is the wrong thing to do, but he is willing to do anything as long as it can numb his pain.
His brain screamed that this was a mistake. His heart—a spliced-together relic from three past selves—screamed a reluctant warning.
"J-just one more and I will be done I promise—"
BOOM!!!
A deafening sound came from one of Null's rooms; this time, it sounded like it was coming from Null's main engine room.
He turned his head in the direction of the sound. A fog whose color can't be perceived and described by mere mortal language spreads into his room.
It wasn't any color on the color spectrum. The fog wasn't invisible; instead, it had a slight hint of radiating, a subtle touch of emitting. And a gentle breze of transmiting.
"Oh, not again." Nulls groaned, slapping his hand to his face.
His left hand finally reached the bottle, and with only one sip the bottle was empty. He smashes the bottle to the floor. Causing tiny glass debris to fly in all directions.
He took a glance at his hand palm; it was bleeding and infested with tiny glass shrapnel.
"I am starting to regret having a human body." He said. "Revert me back to normal!!!"
The vessel AI promptly dissentrigate Null's body and then carefully reattached the consciousness into a more Theonic body.
His facial structure, now his face uncanny, his skin?. Not "dark" not "void". It was black beyond belief, blacker than any material that can reflect photons.
His limb was disproportionately elongated and distorted. It can reach ten meters in terrestrial standard.
A set of fangs grows from his two upper fang teeth. Each fangs slightly curve. Layers of hyper-dimensional polygons scale stacks upon one another.
His eyes, just seconds ago, A beautiful blue shade, now turn into a bottomless eye socket with no bottom. His body is now skinny and frail, with no hair whatsoever.
He's now omni-pedal almost like a lizard. His jaw becomes rigid and robust. Capable of biting through the toughest of material.
His tongue was split into four independent moving limbs that he could control. Each is filled with a Hexan-toxin sac.
His brains were duplicated, one for each of the limbs he grows. His tail was dissected into two different parts.
Countless scars that vary in depth were visible throughout his body, each scar representing the omniverse he dismantles.
The deeper one symbolizes how much life was sacrificed in that particular omniverse.
Some scars barely grace the skin, while the others cut deep into his body, revealing his organs moving around. It was. Disgusting.
His eye sockets were divided into three sections, one on each side of the face. Each of them contains the same bottomless void as the upper one.
He stretches and wiggles both of his tails at a fast pace, feeling refreshed and young again.
"Much better." Nulls gets up from lying into standing with four legs. His height changed, previously 6'1 feet now 10'7 feet.
Boom!!!
A loud booming sound was heard again. This time still in the engine room. The lights that surround Nulls begin to flicker.
I forget about that!!
Nulls loudly thought to himself.
The sound was produced from the engine room which means—
Nulls standing silently there for a good seven seconds before deducing the situation. He already deduces it in the first Eyreosecond. He just takes the rest seven seconds to add the dramatic effect.
Anything but that, please!!!
Nulls turned his head, sluggish but alert in a twisted way. He isn't drunk anymore. He is calculating. He might have been a drunk, broken scientist in a meat suit but he still knew things. A lot of things. And that sound? That was bad.
Nulls materialized as fast as he could to the engine room.
Inside the middle of the engine room was a giant aether board, etched with countless upon countless variables.
Null's eye scans the room, looking for anomalies or errors that could trigger such a massive explosion.
Located within the back of the engine room, the Covenant Sphere was attached to a collection of wire from every hyperdimensionality axis, whether physical or not.
Nulls tapped the sphere gently. Nulls places his fingers on his chin.
Nulls hums to himself. "Don't worry, even in drunk condition, I can still fix you right up," Nulls said.
Nulls materialized his tools bag; it was a bottomless pit designed by him to always, without exception, give him the right tools for that exact moment.
"With my brand new custom Four-dimensional tools bag." His eye lights up with excitement. Both ends of his lips curled up into a smile.
With his claws and tendrils, he digs his bag, pulling gadget upon gadget out of it; none were useful.
"Strange, I didn't remember to add useless garbage to this bag."
He digs further, revealing layers upon layers of void hiding inside a bag the size of a pillow.
A mountain of gadgets formed behind him. He was looking for one special device. One that causes him so much inconvenience in the past.
"Aha!!!" Nulls exclaim; in his tendrils lies his trusty glove. Nulls hugged the sphere, he caressed the sphere with his fingers while making cuteness aggression sound.
"Don't need to worry baby." He said.
Nullskin Glove flexing around his tendrils like oil on muscle. It's cool inside—always is before a fix—like the tech knows you're about to touch its secrets.
The sphere's surface is impossibly smooth, blacker than black, sucking in the emergency lights and refusing to reflect a damn thing. It is not broken; just waiting. No seams. No visible interface.
He mutters to the glove, "I frickin love this glove."
It shimmers, reading his neural intent. His gloved hand sinks into the surface—not through it, but into its resonance. Like dipping into warm static.
His breath catches as time folds for a second—his heart skips, lights flicker, and somewhere distant he hears the station remember its own death.
Inside the sphere, his hand feels circuitry that doesn't exist in any hypers-dimensional space. It's like reading Braille written in void fields and regret.
He begins the fix—Tuning trillions of ø-bits with gentle wrist twists, Calming hostile bits with gentle pulses from his palm,
Stitching countless Quantar Resin circuitry back together where the core had fried.
The glove tightens suddenly—warning. A memory pulse. Something old and angry in the sphere's past that lashes out—data shaped like screaming.
But he doesn't flinch. "Ehh, I've seen worse," he growls. "Hell, been worse."
He pulses the glove—a clean override. The sphere stutters… Flares open like a mechanical flower, revealing a soft pulsing light within.
The station groans awake. Doors hiss open. Gravity stabilizes.
He pulls the glove free, his tendrils trembling.
"Fixed it," he mutters.
His body was covered in black goo a substitute for sweat, with a hundred times the efficiency and a fraction of the cost.
He turned his gaze to the wire connecting to the sphere, he touched the wire. All of it.
"Don't be broken okay?" He puts the wires back in their original place.
Nulls sat back on his haunches, claws twitching. The sphere hummed softly behind him, content—for now.
The vessel sighed through the bulkheads. Stabilized. Quiet. Like a predator catching its that breath after a near-kill.
He flexed his glove, letting it drip black goo onto the floor.
"Fixed it. Again," he muttered.
The room didn't answer. Not the kind that cared.
Nulls stood, hunched beneath the curved ceiling. His tail scraped the floor like a lazy scythe. Every part of his form creaked with old power—old choices.
He looked at the mess: shattered tools, blood-slick cables, fractured spacetime patches humming in the corner like dead radio signals.
"This ship's need therapy," he muttered. "Just like its pilot."
He sighed, long and low, and the ship sighed with him. They'd been together for so long, the vessel echoed his thoughts by habit.
For a moment, he thought about nothing. Or tried to.
But that name kept pressing in from the folds of reality like a splinter in a dying mind:
Karasu Pendragon.
That was the real anomaly. Not engine failure. Not entropy spikes. Not the fog that leaked in from impossible dimensions. Her.
Smart enough to extract meaning from cosmic static. Not a threat—just inconvenient in the kind of way that makes you double-check your locks before sleeping. A flicker on a scanner that shouldn't flick.
And Nulls know the place to find her.
"Earth," he said flatly.
The ship's AI pinged back in his skull.
— Earth status: World peace.
— Average earth organism: 0.000.....37 NULL UNITS.
— Threat potential: Nonexistent.
— Inconvinience potential: Pre-negligible
— Technological capabilities:
α. Advancement: Proto-quantum ages.
and β. Intellect: Early sign usage that of portand al.
γ. Higher dimensional that mathemathics.
— Global intellectual (Karasu Pendragon): 0.000...508320. Null unit (And rising).
— Party potential: 92% [HIGH]
He frowned.
"Pull up her profile."
There was a pause. Then:
— Karasu Pendragon. Earth. Human.
— Designation: scientist of the millenium
— Current location: Hollowed-out chamber deep within the earth's mantle.
Her face flickered into the air—a soft projection. Human. Posture straight. Raven haired woman, her hair always a little messy.
She's currently wearing a white lab coat with a white collared shirt underneath it and a black vest with three buttons that lie smoothly above the shirt.
Her pants are black and appear to have been made and tailored recently.
Sitting in her neck is a small jewelry resembling a cube with bars. A red heart-shaped crystal inside it.
Her skin. Pale, almost like a sick dead corpse. The lack of sunlight due to her, never leaving her lab. Not because she can't but because she's wanted to.
Her heigh was comparable to one of her robot, Standing at roughly 6'1 feet in height.
Among many of karasu's traits, one of them stands above all. That annoying glint of curiosity.
She looked like trouble.
She looked like a riddle Nulls hadn't written.
"Enhance," he whispered.
The hologram sharpened. Beneath her right eye: a faint neural tattoo, likely interface-grade. Behind her: whiteboard cluttered with equations, half of which tickled Nulls' memory.
He narrowed his
Fifty variable equations were written across the whiteboard. Schrödinger Q-layer rotational symmetry. Folded 15 times.
"Cute," he muttered. "You're knocking on doors you don't know are locked for a reason."
He tapped the air. Froze the image. Zoomed in on her hands.
Steady. No shake. Calloused in the right places. Tinkerer's hands.
He hated how much he respected that.
Nulls paced.
"Alright, Karasu," he growled. "What the hell are you building?"
He turned, spoke aloud.
"Prep a descent vector. Earth. Seoul region."
[CONFIRM DESCENT?]
"No. Not yet."
Nulls looked back at her face.
"First, I want to know what makes you tick."
He stretched his neck, each vertebra cracking like a breaking star.
"And then, if I don't like what I find…"
He flexed his claws.
"…I'll erase it."