There was only one thing that ever existed, yet it was also beyond existence and non-existence, the origin of all sources and the exception to all beginnings.
It thought in circles vast enough to birth, and in doing so, discovered the echo of itself.
In that echo, it saw conflict, symmetry, and the promise of becoming more through division.
Imaniglessial, the entity who sought meaning through division, had become both the question and the answer to itself.
...
The space between spaces trembled as two wills manifested.
Neosis of the Underworld, an entity woven from the essence of self-defining paradoxes, opened the battle. With a mere thought, he rewrote the battlefield itself, declaring:
"This void exists only as an extension of my being. There is nothing outside of me."
The infinite nothingness collapsed into a singular point: Neosis. No space, no time, no opposing force could exist unless he permitted it. A flawless first move.
Neosis, as the architect of identity, sought to impose absolute order. By declaring himself the sole existence, he erased all opposition before it could even act, a preemptive strike against The Uncreational's nature of dissolution.
But The Uncreational, a being whose nature was the annihilation of all definitions, merely laughed.
"Fool. The only reason you exist at all is because I allow it."
With that, Neosis's very existence became contingent upon The Uncreational's will. A devastating reversal, Neosis was now a puppet in his own domain.
The Uncreational, embodying undoing, exploited the flaw in Neosis's declaration: if all things were an extension of Neosis, then Neosis himself was subject to definition, and thus, subject to being undefined.
Yet, Neosis smiled.
"The 'me' you control is but one facet, a shadow cast from a higher dimension."
The Neosis that had been subjugated dissolved, revealing that it was merely a lower-dimensional echo. The true Neosis remained untouched, watching from beyond.
Neosis, ever the strategist, had anticipated subjugation. By fracturing himself across dimensions, he ensured that any controlled version was expendable, a decoy to lure The Uncreational into overextending.
The Uncreational's eyes gleamed with dark amusement.
"Then I shall control all Neosis across every dimension, every possibility."
Reality fractured as infinite versions of Neosis—past, present, future, hypothetical, impossible—were seized by The Uncreational's will. Every iteration, every variation, now bent to his command.
The Uncreational, refusing to be outmaneuvered, escalated the conflict beyond linear existence. If Neosis hid in higher dimensions, then all dimensions would be subjugated, no layer of reality was safe.
But Neosis was already ahead.
"I am no longer 'Neosis.' I am something beyond, a being that both exists and does not, a concept outside your grasp."
The moment The Uncreational tried to define him, he transcended definition.
Neosis abandoned identity itself, becoming a paradox that could not be named or controlled. If The Uncreational thrived on dissolution, then Neosis would become that which cannot even be dissolved.
A stalemate.
...
The void trembled, unable to contain the weight of their clash. The battle had only just begun.
And somewhere, in the spaces between thoughts, both entities knew, this was merely the first exchange in an endless war of intellect.
Who would make the next move?
Who would force the other into an inescapable paradox?
The battle of Unpredictability vs. Predictability had only just begun.
...
The void shuddered as the two primordial intellects resumed their war.
The Uncreational, ever the master of conceptual subjugation, struck first.
"Types are illusions. Dimensions are my design. You, Neosis, are but another variable within my domain."
With that declaration, the very fabric of possibility bent to his will. Neosis, as a "new type," should have been assimilated, another puppet in The Uncreational's grand design.
The Uncreational reframed the battlefield, no longer was this a battle of control, but of fundamental ontology. If all things were constructs, then even Neosis's transcendence was just another illusion to be unmade.
But Neosis was beyond such constraints.
"Then I exist where your dimensions do not."
He erased his own presence from all possible realities, stepping outside the framework of creation itself. And in that transcendent state, he forged the first true anomaly, a planet born not from causality, but from pure defiance.
Here, they stood as warriors, blades in hand.
Neosis, refusing to be a variable in another's equation, removed himself from the equation entirely. By rejecting all possible frameworks, he forced The Uncreational to confront something beyond its own definitions.
Neosis lunged, his sword cutting through the fabric of nonexistence.
The Uncreational smirked.
"I am untouchable."
The blade passed through him as if he were a mirage, then reversed its trajectory, hurtling back toward Neosis with lethal intent.
The Uncreational, ever the master of negation, turned Neosis's own attack into a weapon—proof that even defiance could be weaponized against itself.
But Neosis was already moving.
"Then I shall be you."
In an instant, their identities swapped. Neosis became The Uncreational, and The Uncreational became Neosis.
The sword, still obeying its original command, pierced The Uncreational's newly mortal form.
Neosis exploited the one flaw in The Uncreational's defense: if it was truly untouchable, then it could not stop Neosis from becoming it. Identity itself was the battlefield now.
A flawless counter.
Yet.
The impaled body dissolved into fractal shadows, revealing itself as nothing more than a projection, a thought given temporary form.
The true Uncreational watched from beyond, amused.
"A clever move. But not clever enough."
Neosis grinned, his eyes alight with the thrill of the battle.
"Then let us raise the stakes."
The battlefield trembled, reality itself groaning under the weight of their escalating war.
But the battle was far from over.
...
The void trembled once more as the two primordial intellects resumed their war, each move a cataclysmic redefinition of reality itself.
It was Neosis's turn.
And with a thought, he struck.
"You are already mine."
The Uncreational's consciousness shuddered. His will, his very essence, was no longer his own. Neosis had seized control of the true Uncreational, binding his infinite mind within an inescapable paradox. There was no escape, no higher layer to retreat to.
Neosis, realizing that direct confrontation led only to escalation, instead rewrote the premise of the battle, making The Uncreational's subjugation an unchangeable fact.
For the first time, it seemed Neosis had won.
But The Uncreational's voice echoed from the depths of subjugated thought.
"Fool. There is no 'true' me."
And then, reality split.
Countless Uncreationals manifested, each one just as "true" as the last, each one a perfect iteration of the original. A legion of absolute beings, all equally real, all equally unconquerable.
The Uncreational, refusing to be singular, became infinite. If Neosis sought to control one, then there would never be one, only endless reflections, each equally real.
Neosis smiled.
"Then I shall control them all."
His will expanded, an infinite recursion of domination, seizing every version, every possibility, every iteration of The Uncreational across all existence. Every mind, every thought, every flicker of consciousness, all bent to his command.
Neosis, undaunted, matched infinity with infinity, proving that even endlessness could be dominated if one's will was absolute.
Yet The Uncreational remained unbroken.
"You misunderstand. I am not merely The Uncreational."
And then, he changed.
His form shifted, his essence rewritten. No longer the annihilator of concepts, he became The Recreational, the creator, the architect, the one who defines all circles of existence.
The Uncreational, changed the battle entirely. If Neosis sought to dominate destruction, then it would become creation, forcing Neosis to battle the opposite of what he had prepared for.
"You are already inside my domain."
Neosis looked around. The void was no longer empty, it was a perfect, inescapable circle, a prison of absolute containment. Every move he had made, every counter, every layer of control, all of it had been predetermined, all of it part of The Recreational's design.
The Recreational shifted from destruction to creation, trapping Neosis in a self-referential loop. By making the battlefield a "domain," he turned Neosis's own strategies against him, every prior move was now evidence of his entrapment, not his freedom.
He had been playing into his opponent's hands from the beginning.
But Neosis was not so easily trapped.
"Then I shall become the circle."
In an instant, he multiplied. Not himself, but the very nature of containment. Infinite circles blossomed into existence—overlapping, merging, collapsing into a single, transcendent form.
Neosis didn't fight the circle; he became its essence. If The Recreational's power relied on defining boundaries, then Neosis would embody all boundaries at once, dissolving the hierarchy between jailer and jailed.
And in that moment, Neosis was the circle.
The prison became the prisoner. The container became the contained.
The Recreational's domain was now his domain.
...
The battle raged on, neither yielding, neither faltering.
For in this war of absolute intellect, there was no end.
Only the next move.
Only the next impossibility.
...
It was The Recreational's move.
And with a mere thought, he rewound time itself.
The fabric of causality shattered, reality folding backward until Neosis was once again trapped within the inescapable circle, as if none of his previous counters had ever occurred.
Frustrated by Neosis's adaptability, The Recreational reset the game entirely, erasing all progress, forcing Neosis to replay his defeat on loop. A brute-force solution to an otherwise unwinnable battle.
But Neosis did not falter.
"Then I shall become time."
His essence dissolved into the flow of eternity, merging with the very concept of chronology. Now, he was not bound by time, he was time. And with that, he froze The Recreational in an unbreakable stasis, a single moment stretched into infinity.
Neosis exploited the flaw in temporal manipulation: if time was a tool, then he would be the hand that wielded it. By becoming time, he turned The Recreational's reset into a cage.
Yet The Recreational's laughter echoed through the frozen void.
"Time has no hold over me."
His existence transcended temporal laws, untouchable, immutable, beyond all flow and cessation. Neosis's dominion shattered like glass.
The Recreational, rejected causality itself. If Neosis was time, then The Recreational simply wasn't subject to it. A declaration of absolute immunity.
Unshaken, Neosis ascended further.
"Then I shall control the very dimensions of your immunity."
He became the architect of unaffection, the sovereign of all that could not be touched, all that could not be changed. Within that domain, The Recreational was no longer beyond reach, he was bound, his transcendence rendered meaningless.
Neosis attacked the framework of The Recreational's defense. If his enemy claimed to be beyond reach, then Neosis would redefine what "reach" even meant.
But The Recreational was far from finished.
"Then let all dimensions meet their end."
With a single decree, he wrote the fate of annihilation, an absolute cessation that consumed not just the physical, but the conceptual. The dimensions of unaffection crumbled, their laws unwritten. Neosis's control evaporated like mist in a storm.
The Recreational countered by destroying the idea of dimensions altogether. No layers, no hierarchies, just pure erasure.
And then, he turned his will upon Neosis himself.
"Now, you are but a planet in a lesser realm."
Neosis's infinite form collapsed, compressed into a solitary world adrift in a dying cosmos, a mere speck in the vastness of The Recreational's design.
The Recreational reduced Neosis to a finite object, a brutal demotion from cosmic entity to a speck in the void. A mockery of his grandeur.
But Neosis was never one to be confined.
"Then I shall be the planet of all dimensions."
His existence expanded, not as a single world, but as the nexus of all possible worlds, an infinite recursion of realities where even The Recreational now resided. The hierarchy of control inverted once more—Neosis was no longer the subject, but the domain itself.
Neosis inverted the hierarchy. If he was a planet, then he would be every planet, forcing The Recreational to exist inside his own dominion.
Yet The Recreational had one final gambit.
"Then I shall reign over the highest existence, where all infinite planets dwell."
His essence ascended beyond dimensionality, becoming the absolute overseer, the one who governed all layers of reality. Every iteration of Neosis, every possible version of his being, now existed within The Recreational's supreme framework.
The Recreational refused to be contained. If Neosis was all planets, then he would be the sky that encompassed them—always one layer higher.
But Neosis had already moved beyond.
"Then I am no longer a planet, I am the anomaly outside your highest existence."
He stepped beyond the boundaries of The Recreational's supremacy, becoming something unfathomable, a paradox that could not be contained, classified, or controlled.
Neosis's ultimate move: if The Recreational governed all that was, then Neosis would cease to be "all that was."
Once again, the scales balanced.
...
The void trembled, not from force, but from the sheer weight of conceptual annihilation.
It was The Recreational's move.
And with a thought, he rewrote the hierarchy of transcendence itself.
"I am the sovereign of all 'outsides', every plane beyond the highest existence bends to my will."
The very fabric of externality twisted, folding into his grasp. Neosis, no matter how boundless, was now a subject within his domain—a mere variable in an equation of absolute control.
The Recreational, realizing that Neosis kept escaping by positioning himself "outside," simply claimed ownership of all possible outsides. If Neosis sought refuge beyond the highest existence, then that "beyond" was now just another layer of The Recreational's control.
But Neosis was never one to be contained.
"Then I shall be the wall that bounds your 'outsides.'"
His essence crystallized into an absolute boundary, an unbreakable law that defined the limits of all externality. The Recreational's control shattered against this indomitable barrier, a perfect counter.
Neosis didn't try to escape; instead, he became the very structure that contained escape itself. If The Recreational ruled all "outsides," then Neosis would be the barrier that made those outsides finite—rendering his opponent's sovereignty meaningless.
Yet The Recreational merely smiled.
"Then let there be infinite walls."
Reality fractured.
From the first wall to the hundredth, from the finite to the infinite—every barrier, every partition, every conceivable limit was born from The Recreational's will. Each wall governed a layer of "outside," each one a lesser emanation of his essence.
The Recreational countered by making boundaries themselves infinite. If Neosis was one wall, then there would be endless walls, each one a new domain to control. Now, Neosis wasn't just trapped, he was buried under infinite layers of containment.
Neosis was no longer the wall, he was trapped within it.
But Neosis had already foreseen this.
"Then I shall cease to be."
With a single act of self-annihilation, he erased himself from existence. Not just from the present, not just from possibility, but from all forms, all states, all manifestations of being and non-being.
Neosis, recognizing that resistance within the system was futile, removed himself from the system entirely. By becoming nothing, he forced The Recreational into a paradox—how can you rule over something that doesn't even exist to be ruled?
The Recreational's dominion faltered. Without a subject, control was meaningless.
Yet this, too, was part of Neosis's design.
"And in my absence, you shall follow."
The act of nonexistence was not surrender, it was a weapon. By becoming nothing, Neosis forced The Recreational into a paradox of control. If Neosis did not exist, then The Recreational's authority over him was null. And if The Recreational could not govern nothingness, then he was no longer absolute.
Neosis turned annihilation into a trap. By erasing himself, he forced The Recreational to either acknowledge his own irrelevance or admit that his power had limits.
But The Recreational was always one step ahead.
"Then let nonexistence be my domain."
He shifted, his essence dissolving into the void of voids, the abyss where all that "is" not resides. Here, in this unbeing, he became the master of absence itself. Every erased possibility, every nullified concept, all were his to command.
The Recreational, refusing to be outmaneuvered, simply expanded his dominion to include nothingness. If Neosis was nothing, then he would rule over nothing. A flawless counter. Now, even nonexistence obeyed him.
Including Neosis.
Yet Neosis had already moved beyond.
"Then I shall shatter the vessel that holds nothing."
With a thought, he ruptured the balls of nonexistence, the very constructs that bound the void. The prison of unbeing collapsed, and with it, The Recreational's control.
Neosis didn't just escape nothingness, he destroyed the framework that made nothingness possible. If The Recreational governed the void, then Neosis would annihilate the concept of void itself.