Aevion's fingers traced the worn edges of the ancient tome as he opened The Order of Null Origin. The pages crackled softly, releasing a faint scent of dust and time long forgotten. He settled into the quiet alcove of the Library of the End, the vast chamber's infinite shelves looming silently around him.
His violet eyes scanned the cryptic text, the strange, shifting letters seeming to shimmer as though alive. The very name—Order of Null Origin—felt like a key unlocking a door deep within his soul, a door he hadn't even known existed.
The book spoke of a force older than stars or time itself—a primal current beneath existence, the silent erasure beyond creation. This Order was no mere faction or cult. It was a fundamental truth, an inevitable finality that maintained balance by unraveling realities when they grew too unstable.
Civilizations older than memory had once met this silent undoing, disappearing without trace, erased not by battle or decay but by the Order's subtle, absolute nullification. Survivors remembered nothing of their lost worlds—their histories wiped clean as if they had never been.
Aevion's breath caught. The weight of this knowledge settled on him like an invisible chain.
The text described the Order as a force without will or malice—cold, impartial, and absolute. It existed to preserve the cosmic harmony by excising that which threatened collapse. In this, it was both destroyer and savior, a paradox beyond mortal comprehension.
His thoughts spiraled back to the emptiness he had often felt—voids in his memory, blank spaces in his very essence. Was this the imprint of the Order on his own life? The burning village, the anguished child fleeing through smoke and ash, the shadowed figure who ended his mother's life—could they be fragments of this greater enigma?
Turning the page, Aevion found the next section—The Library of the End. The tome described this place not just as a repository but a dimension shaped from infinite space itself. Time here flowed like a restless river, past, present, and future folding into one another.
The Library held every story ever told, every secret ever whispered—vast beyond measure, yet exquisitely preserved. Guardians watched over this infinite archive, beings neither wholly good nor evil, their motives beyond understanding. They ensured the delicate balance of knowledge and chaos remained intact.
Closing the book, Aevion sat in silence, the enormity of what he had read pressing upon him. The Order was no distant legend; it was a living force, intertwined with his world—and perhaps with the missing pieces of his own shattered past.
He rose slowly, feeling the subtle pulse of the Library around him—a quiet acknowledgment of the questions now burning inside him. Each step he took echoed softly in the endless halls, a solitary figure against the vastness of all that was recorded here.
Outside, distant footsteps reminded him that his lesson was not complete. But in this moment, surrounded by infinite knowledge, a resolve blossomed deep within his chest.
No matter the shadows he faced, no matter the mysteries yet to be unraveled, he would confront the echoes of null.
He would seek the truth.
And he would not falter.
Aevion's fingers traced the worn edges of the book Order of Null Origin as he closed it gently. The heavy silence in the library pressed down on him like a living thing. Around him, rows of ancient shelves rose high, their contents holding secrets far older than any he had encountered.
The instructor's voice cut through the quiet. "Today's lesson isn't just about reading. This place contains knowledge that will change how you see the world — and your place in it."
Aevion didn't respond, didn't move. His eyes were fixed on the book's cover, his mind replaying what he had read.
The Order of Null Origin — a force spoken of in whispers, a power that could unravel reality itself. Its followers were said to manipulate the very fabric of existence, erasing what was and what could be.
He thought of his sword, Vexiaris, and the stance he had perfected, Nellum's Embrace. Through them, he held a fragment of control over that chaos. But wielding such power came at a cost, one he had only begun to understand.
The library around him was silent but not empty. The weight of ancient truths filled the air, thick and unyielding. The others in his class moved quietly, some poring over other books, but Aevion remained still, absorbing the gravity of the knowledge.
The instructor continued, "Understanding the Order is not merely academic. It's a step toward mastering what lies beyond the limits of mortal comprehension."
Aevion's expression did not change. No excitement. No fear. Only a quiet resolve.
He closed his eyes briefly, feeling the hum of power within, waiting to be fully unleashed.
The path ahead was unclear, but one thing was certain — the Order of Null Origin was a shadow that would follow him, a force he would have to confront and, if necessary, overcome.
With measured steps, he rose and left the reading area, the book tucked safely beneath his arm. The silence of the library remained, a constant reminder of the knowledge he now carried — and the dangers it implied.