In a realm so abstract even reality politely opted out, I, Lumi'Nae — yes, that Lumi'Nae — floated on my personal celestial body, surrounded by beings whose names could short-circuit the minds of lesser entities.

  Above us spun the cosmos like a lazy spiral of ideas and starstuff. And right in the centre, on a small, swirling planet that bent the laws of metaphor and metaphorical laws, sat Ayame Kurohime, also known as the Unknowable Void, or as I like to call her: She Who Makes Existential Crises Look Fashionable.

  Her hair? Blacker than the concept of blackness.

  Her eyes? Abysses so deep I once dropped a thought into them and never got it back.

  Her mood? Mysteriously unreadable, like an ancient text in a dead language written by a sarcastic ghost.

  Surrounding her were the others, perched on their own cosmic perches like moody gods attending a philosophy club.

  Ayame began to sing. Not a melody so much as a cosmic hum — like reality whispering backwards while drunk. The words weren't in any known tongue. They weren't even in a tongue. Just pure, unfiltered Being, echoing through the ether like the world's most pretentious ringtone.

  I, being the translator and co-protagonist of this whole ordeal, did what any responsible cosmic herald would do: I improvised.

  Did I know what she was saying? Absolutely not. Did I make it sound like I did? You bet your last dimensional anchor I did.

  The translated song — if you could call it that — drifted across the gathering. It was beautiful. Serene. Poetic. Everyone nodded in quiet awe.

  Too bad it was mostly gibberish. My gibberish.

  Ayame tilted her head and offered me a smile. A real one. Well... as real as anything gets in this place.

  "We art pleased, Lumi'Nae," she said, voice gentle and heavy with the weight of eldritch vowels. "Yet as We hath foreseen, much hath been lost in translation. Still, let Us hear what the others have gleaned from Our song. Mayhap they shall perceive what lies beyond all known realities."

  She was being gracious. I appreciated it. But let's be real — I winged it harder than a chicken in a wind tunnel.

  Still, no time to dwell on that. The floor or floating metaphysical platform was now open.

  First up: Yahweh Elohim, the Omnipotent, basking in the glow of his blindingly white planet like a beacon of I'm better than you and I brought a manual to prove it.

  "The meaning of Being," he boomed, "is to obey My Will. Humanity was created to serve, to worship, to uphold the righteousness of divine law. Being is duty fulfilled."

  Classic Yahweh. Always with the command-and-control stuff.

  Then Satan, lounging on a flaming rock like she was on break from a punk rock tour. She had the whole seductive mischief aesthetic down to an art — fiery hair, eyes like emerald sin, and a voice that could sell vices to saints.

  "Oh, shove it, Yahweh," she cackled, "Being's 'bout doin' what ya want, innit? Chaos, freedom, eatin' the fruit, burnin' the rules — all that good stuff. Don't blame the humans for takin' a bite. Blame the god what put the fruit on the bleedin' shelf."

  Yahweh's mask twitched. His holiness was not amused.

  "You led them astray," he growled. "You tempt, then excuse. Your freedom is destruction."

  "Yer rules are prison bars," she shot back with a wink.

  I took a step back. These two? Always one sentence away from turning a discussion into divine WWE.

  Next up, Sekhmet, the Lady of Slaughter, who looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here. Her war-queen aura cracked for a second when her eyes slid to me — and was that a blush?

  "I... I think Being is just..." she trailed off, fiddling with her hands. "...being with someone you care about?"

  Cute. Tragic. Absolutely dodging that conversation later.

  Niflheim, sitting alone on her iceberg-planet like an arctic mood swing, finally spoke.

  "Being is destruction," she said coldly. "To exist is to melt. Only when all is reduced to ash can peace be frozen."

  Yikes. Someone needs a hug. Or hot cocoa.

  Brahman, the Absolute, shimmered into clarity next, arms folded across armour forged from diamond-logic.

  "You speak of destruction, but Being is unity," he thundered. "The merging of all selves into one Self. The All. The One. Me."

  ...Little egotistical, but I guess when you're the metaphysical bedrock of the cosmos, some self-confidence comes with the job.

  And then came the deep bass rumble of Ultrathoth, whose very existence caused major gravitational anomalies in every omniverse. Eldritch, massive, terrifying. If a black hole learned how to shout, it'd sound like him.

  "BEING IS POWER," he growled. "TO EXIST IS TO CONQUER. ALL ELSE IS ILLUSION."

  Classic villain energy. Probably has Crush the Weak printed on his bath towels.

  "Pfft."

  On an orange-tinged world of pillows and dreams, Azuraella the Chaos Maiden floated horizontally, a lazy yawn slipping past her lips.

  "Azuraella thinks Being is... just doing what you're meant to do," she mumbled. "She was born to serve Ayame. So she does. Simple, no?"

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  Ultrathoth's gaze landed on her like a curse.

  She promptly dozed off again. Legend.

  Finally, there was Alpha-0, the Sinless Absolver. Straitjacket. Glowing eyes. An aura like holy static.

  "Being is purification," she muttered through clenched teeth. "All must be cleansed. ALL!!!"

  Yeah, I was definitely not standing too close to her.

  Somewhere beyond the edge of reality — like, literally beyond the edge — the council of supreme cosmic entities continued.

  We'd already had debates, existential posturing, and at least three declarations of Ultimate Truth?, so naturally, it was time for more.

  Apsu, the Master of the Deeps — think colossal dragon made entirely of holy water, complete with cathedral-sized wings and an annoying echo — nodded solemnly. His voice rippled like a tsunami through creation.

  "Being is order," he intoned, as if reading from some sacred manual. "It is the balance between creation and destruction — the divine flow of life. Chaos disrupts this harmony, and thus, must be subdued."

  A classic Order vs Chaos take. Predictable, but hey, solid delivery.

  Then there was Tenebris, the Sentinel of the Eternal Night, who hadn't said a word since this cosmic gathering began. She just sat there, poised like a marionette carved from shadow and sorrow, her greatsword — Dark Excalibur — across her lap like a sleeping beast. Nemi, her pet white dove, cooed softly on her shoulder, clearly doing all the emotional heavy lifting.

  Finally, she spoke, her voice gentle, but with steel behind every syllable.

  "Being is to protect what is sacred," she said. "To stand guard over what is precious. It is eternal vigilance — the shield against the dark."

  ...Wow. I almost applauded. Would've looked dramatic, but then I'd have to explain myself. Too much effort.

  Next up: Yuwu, the Dragon of the Jade Void. If sunshine could grow wings and giggle, it would look a lot like her. She fluttered about like a hyperactive butterfly, wings shimmering like emerald waves.

  "Being is about having fun and making friends!" she chirped, practically vibrating with joy. "Why overthink stuff when you can just be happy? Life's short! Enjoy it!"

  A perfectly valid answer, if a bit... sugarcoated.

  Behind her, Akashirae the Sanguine Menace tilted her head slightly, her nine crimson tails swaying like smoke. Beautiful, unreadable, and just a bit terrifying. She smiled like someone who'd seen your fate and wasn't going to spoil the surprise.

  "Being is fate," she whispered. "The thread that binds all things. It weaves every moment, every breath, every death. No one escapes. Not even gods."

  Uplifting stuff.

  Idea, the so-called Perfect Being, adjusted her glasses with mechanical precision. Her voice was crisp, no-nonsense, and probably rehearsed several times before she got here.

  "Being is the pursuit of perfection," she said. "Improvement of the self. Refinement of the cosmos. Anything less is unacceptable."

  Great. Another overachiever.

  Then, towering in silent splendour, stood Singularity Transcendence — a living paradox wrapped in golden light. His presence was like standing too close to a black hole wearing a halo.

  His deep voice echoed across the void:

  "Being... is liberation."

  Short. Profound. Vague. I approved.

  And finally...

  Dragonslayer Baihu — who insisted on being introduced that way every single time — perched on a glowing meteor like he was in a wuxia movie that forgot it was part of a divine tribunal.

  "Bein's abaht the figh', innit?!" he bellowed. "Clashin' wills, bleedin' knuckles, findin' out what yer made of — that's the juice! That's when ya really know who ya are, CHINA!!"

  No one was sure why he kept yelling China at the end of his sentences, but we let it slide.

  Ayame, the Unknowable Void Herself, observed all this in silence. Her eyes shimmered with the weight of entire lost pantheons, and her expression was the very picture of I'm listening but I already know the ending.

  "Thou hast all offered perspectives," she said, voice echoing with impossible depth. "Each a fragment. Each a truth. And yet... We knew it wouldst be thus."

  Then came my turn.

  Right, I should probably introduce myself properly. Hi, Lumi'Nae. The Finality. The protagonist. Also technically the Unknowable End, but shh — spoilers.

  I looked around at the gathering of cosmic big shots, cleared my throat, and delivered the most brilliant, most profound line I could muster under pressure:

  "Participation was voluntary," I said, all business. "Those who came have contributed to the collective understanding of Being. The answer, however, is beyond comprehension. Ayame knows it, but let's be honest — she's not telling."

  Did they buy that? I was just spitballing nonsense to sound clever. Half of them probably aren't even real by our standards. Sentient now, sure, but a few centuries ago they were just metaphorical weather patterns.

  Anyway, I figured I'd toss in my own answer for good measure. Metaphysically speaking, of course.

  "Indeed. All of your answers are valid," I said, dramatically. "Being is like beliefs — fluid, personal. A journey. A destination. A brunch spot. It's whatever you want it to be."

  ...Wait, that wasn't the end, was it? See what I did there?

  "Live freely. Live wisely. No regrets. That's what I've been doing. I think. Maybe. I forget. Any questions? No? Great."

  Silence.

  No one dared question me. Not because I was especially eloquent or anything. Just... y'know. Finality. Whole Unknowable End business. Bit of a conversation killer.

  Ayame, naturally, nodded approvingly.

  "We art content with thy musings," she said. "But remember, the song of Being is not to be heard. It is to be lived. Mayhap, in time, its true melody shall reach thee."

  ...Seriously with the song thing again?

  For the record, I didn't even know what I was singing. I was just harmonising with Ayame and hoping it didn't summon a black hole. Still, I guess it sounded mystical enough to pass.

  "Right, right," I muttered. "Song of Being, heard with the soul, lived through action, whatever. Speaking of living..."

  I stood up, stretched, and grinned.

  "I know a place that serves the most divine steamed buns this side of entropy. Let's go!"

  And just like that, the council dispersed. Not with a bang, nor a revelation. But with the promise of good food and a temporary escape from philosophical debates.

  Everyone vanished.

  Ayame stayed behind, of course.

  And me? I led the way to lunch.

  The End.

  (...Of the chapter. Not existence. Probably.)