Chapter 1: Prologue

Prologue – The Final Maid

Before time had a name, before stars had a sky to burn in, there was only Aether.

A churning, shapeless mass of eternal energy — silent, thoughtless, infinite.

From this nothing-something, a flicker of thought emerged. No one knows how long it took — time had yet to be created — but thought turned into mind, and mind into form.

And so, the first being was born.

To stabilize its chaotic nature, this being split itself in two — not out of conflict, but balance. Light and dark. Curiosity and stillness. The will to begin, and the certainty to end.

One became Creator, who filled the void with everything from the smallest bacteria to vast, humming realms layered upon realms. Planets, stars, dimensions, and even the concept of time flowed from its hands — beautiful, boundless, but always unfinished.

Because nothing created can endure forever.

The other half became End — not death but End. It brought stillness to what had fulfilled its role. No judgment. No emotion. A quiet eraser. While Creator toiled endlessly, End simply waited, watching the clock of existence tick down, then snuffing it out with a whisper.

They lived in Realm Zero, a place beyond all that exists. None of creation knew of them. Not the gods. Not the angels. Not the monsters.

Only they knew each other.

And most of the time, that was enough.

---

One day, End watched a world — just another spinning speck in the gallery of existence.

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On its surface, a human soul sat kneeling, dressed in torn black and white. A maid. Her body was bloodied, bones bruised, hair tangled. Her End was near.

Not death — End. Her soul had lived many lives. This was her last.

But she didn’t cry for herself.

She wept for her mistress.

She prayed, not to End, not even knowing it existed, but to the gods of her world — Celestials who drew power from faith. Petty things. End had seen them rise and fall like waves on the shore. It paid them no mind.

But the maid’s voice… it lingered.

Not because it was loud. Not because it was special.

But because it wasn’t.

It was small, desperate, and sincere.

And for the first time in all the silence, End listened.

With a whisper that came not through ears but through the soul, End reached out. A voice like pressure, like gravity. She did not understand the language — it wasn’t a language. It was the First Tongue, born before meaning. All beings understood it, even without knowing how.

“What do you wish?” End asked.

The girl’s trembling lips parted. Her voice was weak, but her will was not.

“Please… make my mistress happy. Protect her. That’s all I want.”

No bargain was made. End did not deal like demons or gods.

It simply promised:

“I will try."

The girl smiled. Not for herself. But for her mistress.

It was her last smile.

And then — the blade fell.

---

End watched the head roll.

Then, gently, it reached into that final flicker of soul and absorbed it. Her memories, her voice, her purpose — all gathered and absorbed within.

The request had been vague. And End, being what it was, chose to interpret it its own way.

“She cannot be happy without you,” End reasoned.

“So I will become you.”

Not as a trick. Not to lie. But to honor the cry.

It turned toward Realm Zero’s endless sky and spoke once to its sibling.

“I’m taking a vacation. Watch my side while I’m gone.”

Creator blinked. “Vacation?”

“Just for twenty thousand years.”

“…Alright.”

And with that, End left.

---

In the world below, silence followed the execution. Then—

The maid’s fingers twitched.

Her severed head rose.

Delicately, she picked it up — and placed it back on her neck like a child completing a puzzle.

Her eyes opened.

Her hair had turned jet black.

Her smile was wrong — too wide, too abnormal. A smile that did not know how to smile.

The girl was gone.

And End had arrived.

The cycle paused. The End had chosen to stay.

And in this world, it would play.