Azurael Shunyaviel: Infinite Source Of All Creation And Destruction

Huff… "Finally, I've written the prologue," Zar muttered to himself as he leaned back in his chair. His fingers were stiff and aching, but there was a spark of satisfaction in his chest. After countless hours of thinking, planning, and editing, he had finally completed the introduction to his very first novel.

He stared at the screen, a faint smile playing on his lips. Today was his 22nd birthday, and what better way to celebrate than to start the journey of writing the story that had lived in his head for so long? He had dreamt of the Nexus Verse, an expansive universe filled with multiverses, gods, and unimaginable mysteries. The prologue had barely scratched the surface of the grand narrative he envisioned, but it was a step forward—one that left him both excited and nervous for what was to come.

For a moment, he closed his eyes, basking in the small victory of finishing the prologue. He stretched his arms over his head, his fingers cracking with the motion.

"Zar! Come downstairs, we're waiting!" his mother's voice called from the living room.

"Yeah, I'll be there in a sec," he responded, feeling his creative momentum falter. The familiar excitement of writing was something that only intensified as the ideas kept pouring out. But today was his birthday, and his family was waiting to celebrate. He couldn't exactly skip his own party.

Reluctantly, he pushed himself away from his desk and made his way downstairs. The smell of cake drifted through the air, and he could hear the low hum of conversation as he neared the living room. His parents stood by the table, smiling, waiting for him to join them.

"Happy birthday!" his mom said brightly as she gestured toward the small but beautifully decorated cake on the table.

"Thanks," Zar said, a soft smile forming on his face. He approached the table and picked up the knife, ready to slice into the cake. The warmth of the moment, however, was quickly overshadowed by a sudden, sharp sensation.

As soon as the knife's tip touched the cake, an unbearable pain surged through his body.

He gasped, dropping the knife as the pain overtook him. It was as if every nerve in his body had been set on fire, and his vision blurred as darkness crept in from the edges. His legs gave way beneath him, and he collapsed, the world fading to black around him.

---

When Zar awoke, the searing pain was gone, but confusion quickly set in. He wasn't at home anymore. The ceiling above him was unfamiliar, and the bed he lay on was large and ornate, with intricate designs carved into the wooden frame.

He shot up from the bed, scanning the room frantically. "What the hell… where am I?"

His heart raced as he looked around. The room was grand, almost otherworldly in design, with dark stone walls adorned with ancient runes that glowed faintly in the dim light. Heavy drapes hung over large windows, though they didn't let in any natural light. Everything about this place was alien.

Zar stood up, stumbling slightly as he adjusted to his surroundings. He glanced down at his hands and blinked in shock. His hands looked different. They were stronger, smoother, and healthier than he remembered—free of the small scars and imperfections that had once been there.

"This isn't right… this isn't real," he muttered. His voice trembled as he tried to make sense of what was happening. Panic began to creep into his chest, but he forced himself to stay calm.

There was only one door in the room, so with a deep breath, Zar approached it. He hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the handle. Then, summoning his courage, he opened it.

Beyond the door was something out of his wildest imagination.

A massive portal, glowing with swirling energy, hovered in the center of a circular chamber. The walls were etched with ancient symbols, and the floor was covered in intricate magic circles, their lines pulsating with an eerie, faint light.

Zar took a step forward, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him. The portal's energy hummed softly, and the air itself seemed to vibrate with power.

"No… this can't be real," Zar whispered. The design, the runes, the sheer feel of the place—it was all too familiar. It was like something straight out of his novel.

Before he could react, the portal pulsed brighter, and the next thing he knew, the world around him shifted.

---

Zar found himself in a long corridor, ancient and majestic. Massive pillars lined the walls, stretching up toward the ceiling so high it seemed to vanish into the distance. Everything about this place felt vast and ancient, like it had existed for countless millennia. The air was thick with a sense of power and history, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

"Where... am I now?" Zar whispered, his voice barely audible over the echo of his own footsteps.

He spun around, taking in the grand architecture, his mind racing to understand what had happened. And then, it hit him like a bolt of lightning.

He knew this place.

This wasn't just any random corridor—this was the corridor from his novel. The same one he had painstakingly described in his world-building notes. The towering architecture, the runes, the way the air felt heavy with mystical energy—everything was exactly as he had imagined it.

"No way," Zar breathed, his heart pounding in his chest. "This… this is my story."

Suddenly, he had an idea. He hurried over to one of the towering walls and placed his hand against it. Nothing happened. He frowned, then turned to the opposite wall and repeated the gesture, just as he had envisioned while writing the story.

The moment his palm touched the stone, a soft hum resonated through the corridor. A massive, ornate gate materialized in front of him, its surface glowing faintly with golden light. Zar took a step back, his eyes wide with disbelief.

This was real. Somehow, impossibly, he had been transported into his own novel.

"I've transmigrated… into my own novel?" he said aloud, his voice trembling with equal parts awe and fear. It was the kind of scenario he had joked about with his friends, the kind of fantasy every writer entertained at some point. But now, it was real, and Zar had no idea how to process it.

He hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the glowing gate. But curiosity got the better of him. He pushed open the gate, and once again, the world shifted around him.

When the dizziness faded, Zar found himself outside, standing on a stone platform that floated in the middle of space.

His jaw dropped.

Before him was the Nexus Academy, a sprawling complex that existed in the Nexus Verse—the world he had created. It was encased in a shimmering, multiversal barrier, floating in the middle of a vast, star-filled void. The academy was massive, designed to hold 6 Multiverses.

Zar's breath caught in his throat. This was impossible.

But there it was, the Academy in all its glory, exactly as he had imagined it. The sheer scale of it left him feeling small and insignificant. He could see it all—the towering spires, the intricate architecture, the swirling energy of the multiversal barrier.

"This is real," he whispered to himself, the weight of the realization sinking in. "This is actually real…"

He looked down at his chest, where a phantom badge now shimmered faintly. He was here, in his own world, in the Nexus Academy—a place only the most powerful beings in existence could enter.

And now, it was his turn to participate in the entrance exam.