The Nullplane was not a place—it was a scar.
A wound carved into the multiverse, where broken realms drifted like ash, and silence reigned like a god.
Kael stood alone atop a platform of obsidian bone, The Loomheart pulsing within his chest. Around him, the six relics orbited like fallen stars, each a shard of destiny reclaimed. The Weave—ancient, sleeping, and infinite—now stirred within his soul.
And before him, she arrived.
Nihlari Prime.
Not in form. In force.
The sky wept backwards. Colors bled from reality. The stars themselves froze in awe and fear. She descended like an echo from before creation—a shifting silhouette of cosmic stillness, robed in annihilation. Her eyes were pits of unlight. Her voice was a ripple through every Kael that ever existed.
"You were born of my shadow, Gatekeeper," she said. "Now die in my lightless womb."
Kael's eyes burned with Shardlight. Riftflame coiled around his limbs like loyal serpents.
He stepped forward. Unshaken.
"I am no longer your shadow. I am the Will that remains."
And the world shattered.
Phase One: The Unmaking
Nihlari's first strike was not a spell. It was deletion.
Gravity ceased. Light died. The concept of up was removed from the battlefield.
Kael reacted instantly. Loomheart Resonance surged. Spells cast themselves, space folding as he danced across collapsing definitions of existence. He tore through her illusions, his blade singing through timelines.
She retaliated with Echo Ruin—versions of Kael from failed futures, twisted by regret and ruin. He faced himself. Over and over.
But he had faced worse. He was the Mirrorless.
They fell like echoes beneath the Riftblade.
Phase Two: The Voidwomb
The battlefield morphed. A black cocoon cracked open behind Nihlari, revealing the Voidwomb—an endless maw of inverted stars and god-blood runes. Chains made of broken timelines slithered outward, seeking to bind Kael's soul.
She began to chant the Void Hymn, a spell not meant to kill—but to erase his name from the multiverse.
Kael flared with power.
Oblivion Rebirth primed.
He struck, only for his attack to be mirrored—his own Dimensional Strike, corrupted and turned against him.
Pain.
But not defeat.
He activated Threadmancer's Sovereignty, rewriting the moment before the mirror had taken hold. The world glitched for a breath—and he was back, whole.
Then he whispered to the Rift.
And it listened.
Rift Paradox.
Reality screamed as the concept of mirroring was erased from the battle.
Nihlari shrieked. Her chains faltered. The Voidwomb trembled.
Phase Three: The Unweaving
"I am not one," she hissed. "I am Six."
Her form fractured. Six Weavephantoms emerged—avatars of Death, Time, Memory, Will, Form, and Truth.
Each bore a piece of Kael's own journey. Each came to undo him.
The Phantom of Truth whispered of a choice he'd once made: sacrificing an innocent to close the first Rift.
"Do you regret it?" it asked.
His heart flinched.
The damage was instant.
He bled.
But then Kael looked up, tears in his eyes—and did not flinch again.
"Yes. I regret it. But I would still choose it. Because I must."
He rose with new resolve.
He summoned The Forgotten's Shadow, his erased self, to combat the Phantom of Memory—only the forgotten could touch the forgotten.
One by one, the Phantoms fell.
Finale: God's Harvest
Nihlari reformed.
Wounded.
Afraid.
She lashed out with everything—the Voidwomb collapsing, the multiverse fracturing around her. The scream of dying stars filled the Nullplane.
"You were never meant to ascend!" she cried.
"You were my weapon!"
Kael raised The Loomheart.
Its surface cracked—but instead of breaking, it opened.
A second core pulsed within: ancient, organic, divine.
The God's Harvest.
"You tried to devour creation," Kael said, voice thunderous.
"Now feel what it means to be devoured."
The Loomheart expanded, unraveling like a blooming cosmic flower. Threads of golden hunger reached into Nihlari's essence—beyond flesh, beyond soul—and bit deep.
She screamed.
The Voidwomb imploded, collapsing into the maw of the Harvest.
Her cosmic armor cracked. Her divinity peeled away like ash in the wind.
Every stolen world, every silenced god, every ounce of borrowed creation energy—ripped from her, thread by thread.
"No! I am the Womb of Eternity! You cannot consume what precedes light!"
Kael walked forward, step by slow step, as the Weave behind him began to sing.
God's Harvest consumed her Time, Form, Memory, Truth, Will, and Death—the Six Elements she wielded to rule.
"I am no longer your weapon," Kael said. "I am the Will that Remains. And I am hungry."
With a final surge, he opened his arms—
The Loomheart pulsed once more, and devoured the final spark of her essence.
Nihlari Prime, Queen of the Nullplane, Womb of the Void, Architect of Erasure—
Was eaten.
No seal. No prison.
Only consumption.
Her power fused into Kael like threads falling into place. But he did not bend. He did not break.
He ascended.
His form glowed—not with Riftfire or Shardlight—but with Primordial Weaveflame, a new source, born of death and creation's collision. His body held galaxies. His veins pulsed with ancient runes. His gaze could rewrite origin itself.
Epilogue: The New Loom
The Nullplane grew silent. No longer a scar, but a wound healing.
Kael stood alone, crowned in quiet.
He breathed—and the Weave responded like a heartbeat.
Across the realms, Nihlari's influence dissolved like smoke. Entire timelines healed. Lost souls returned. Forgotten stars blinked back to life.
But Kael said nothing.
He had become more than Gatekeeper.
More than Ascendant.
He had become the Loomkeeper—
The god who devoured a god…
And wove her death into the next beginning.
"Creation needs no tyrant," he whispered.
"Only a flame that chooses not to burn."
And so Kael walked forward into infinity.
A new loom in hand.
And behind him, the multiverse began to dream again