Within the endless, lightless expanse of the void, where time held no meaning and space bent unnaturally, stood an enormous Tesseract. A monolithic construct, infinitely vast, constantly revolving along multiple axes, it radiated auroran lights — each color brighter than the heart of stars, each hue capable of illuminating entire universes. Yet, despite its brilliance, the void surrounding it devoured all, leaving only the pulse of unfathomable energy.

  Before the Tesseract, a figure lingered — barely humanoid, wrought from pitch-black void matter. It stood unflinching, the inky darkness clinging to its form like living tendrils. Though it lacked features, one could feel the weight of centuries of exhaustion radiating from it — like a warrior cursed to eternally fight a futile battle.

  A rasping, hollow voice finally broke the silence. "How many times… have I tried to breach the barrier?" the figure muttered, the sound like fractured glass scraping against stone. A long, hollow sigh escaped its throat, vibrating into the void. "Might as well try… one last time."

  Raising both arms — skeletal in shape but endlessly shifting in density — the figure called to the abyss. Answering its call, the darkness across countless universes convulsed. Like a black tide summoned from a trillion realms, it coalesced into a singular cataclysmic beam, surging toward the Tesseract with the force to erase creation itself.

  But it never touched.

  Space split open above the Tesseract as if reality itself was being peeled apart. Seven figures descended — clad in long robes, each emanating a color of the VIBGYOR spectrum. They did not move; they simply appeared, and the very concept of resistance crumbled beneath their presence. The void itself recoiled from their arrival.

  The figure robed in red stepped forward, an aura of oppressive authority bleeding from its being. Its face, obscured by a shifting, eldritch force, made it impossible to perceive its features. It was not masked — rather, it was as if existence itself refused to acknowledge its face.

  “Umbra,” the figure’s voice was neither loud nor quiet, but it carved through the void like a death knell. “You continue to defy your purpose each time your strength regenerates. Must we repeat this tiresome dance?”

  Umbra, the figure of darkness, did not move. His featureless face gazed at the seven Guardians. His voice, heavy with disdain, rasped. “Purpose? I was not born to stagnate in some forsaken dominion. You granted me a domain not out of benevolence, but as a cage. I am not a sovereign — I am a prisoner.”

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  The red-robed figure exhaled a soundless sigh. “And yet you persist. Accept your fate, Umbra. Your existence is tied to the Origin. You shall never breach the barrier.”

  Umbra's form began to twist unnaturally, his body convulsing as his power surged. “I desire knowledge, strength, and freedom. You bind me to this wretched fragment of space, expecting me to rot as your mindless sovereign. I will not accept this.”

  The void screamed as Umbra's form expanded — grotesque limbs of writhing shadow sprouted, and his power surged with cosmic defiance. “I WOULD RATHER DIE THAN ROT IN THIS MILLENNIAL CAGE!”

  Without hesitation, the blue-robed Guardian stepped forward. With a mere gesture, space around Umbra froze. Every molecule of his body ceased its chaotic expansion, collapsing into a humanoid form once more. Invisible, crushing force coiled around Umbra, suffocating his very existence.

  “You misunderstand something, Umbra.” The blue-robed Guardian's voice was impossibly cold, a whisper that could extinguish suns. “You do not have the luxury of choice.”

  Umbra writhed in agony. His very essence felt like it was being splintered apart. Yet his defiance burned hotter than the pain. “You— will not— keep me imprisoned forever.”

  The red-robed Guardian placed a hand on the blue-robed one's shoulder. “Restrain yourself. Killing him would displease the Origin.”

  Reluctantly, the blue-robed Guardian released his constriction, allowing Umbra to collapse, gasping in ragged defiance. A pregnant silence followed, before another voice — high-pitched and brimming with deranged delight — pierced the void.

  “Oooooohhh! Umbra did a bad thing again, huh?”

  The yellow-robed Guardian skipped forward, its tone resembling a child who found their favorite toy. Yet the undercurrent of madness in its voice felt like needles scraping across Umbra’s already frayed sanity.

  “So that means I get to play again, right? RIGHT?”

  The others turned away, already losing interest. The red-robed Guardian casually waved. “Very well. Keep it short — we must inspect the Tesseract.”

  Umbra froze, his suffocating despair only growing. “You… wretched monsters…”

  The yellow-robed Guardian crouched beside him, giggling uncontrollably. “Awww, don’t be so bitter. Honestly, I love your little acts of rebellion. It makes breaking you so much more… delicious.”

  It leaned in, whispering directly into Umbra’s nonexistent ear. “Tell you what. I’ll break you apart. Grind your bones, twist your mind, eviscerate your soul. Then I’ll put you back together — again, and again, and again.”

  Umbra could only scream. And the Guardian laughed.

  Ten Years Later.

  In the void, a mutilated entity floated — devoid of flesh, bone, or coherent thought. Its form had been shredded, reassembled, and destroyed a thousand times. Yet, despite everything, a fragment of hatred still clung within Umbra.

  From the void, the yellow-robed Guardian returned, cheerful as ever. “Wow! Ten years already? Time flies when you’re having fun, huh?” It smiled mockingly, brushing its fingers along Umbra's reanimated form.

  “I gotta say — you’re quite the durable one. I mean, most things break permanently after a couple centuries of this. But you? You keep hanging in there! Sooooo inspiring.”

  Umbra's tattered voice managed to rasp a few words. “I… will… end… you…”

  The Guardian's smile widened into something predatory. “Ohoho! I hope you do. That’s the only time I feel alive, you know?” With a cheerful wave, it turned to leave.

  “Anyway! See you next year, Umbra. Don’t forget — you exist to serve.”

  The Guardian vanished. Silence returned. And Umbra, despite his shattered essence, silently vowed — one day, I will tear you from existence.