NOVPUBOut there, in the real universes, strength didn't get you respect. It got you permission to exist. Power dictated your survival, your name, your future, your fucking right to breathe.
The real worlds—the endless planes of predators and gods and monsters that didn't blink before they devoured—that was where power mattered. Where even thoughts could kill. And Parker? He was heading there soon. So before these kids got dragged into the deep end, they'd better learn how to swim.
With blood in the water.
Parker had already tasted that truth. No, in some worlds, he had forged that truth.
Now it was their turn.
He stood slowly, eyes burning like stars trapped behind glass, and his voice, smooth and unhurried, slid across the throne hall like a blade dipped in velvet.
"Everyone take a seat."
The command wasn't loud.
It didn't need to be.
And as the pressure shifted, as his throne pulsed once with quiet finality, he added:
"Every family leader… step forward." Time to teach his subjects how prey learns to kneel.
And then—bam.
Like the universe just hit CTRL+ALT+DELETE.
Everything. Froze.
Time didn't just slow—it fucking paused. Like someone hit the world's pause button and dipped. The leader, mid-rise, arm still twitching. The crowd, locked in their gasps. Even Tessa, Elena, Naomi, Atalanta, Ere, Seraphina—every single one of them? Stuck like mannequins in a wax museum run by cosmic forces. Not even a blink.
And then there were them.
Helena. Nyxavere. Vivian. Maya. And of course—Parker.
They didn't freeze. Nah. They straightened.
Because SHE was here.
Not metaphorically.
Not spiritually.
Like, full-blown "I-walk-through-dimensions-like-they're-door-beads" kind of entrance.
The air broke first—cracked open like it couldn't bear to contain what was coming. Then reality started convulsing—colors that didn't exist, sounds that didn't belong to any known frequency, and energies… god, energies that made every other kind of mana, aura, spirit or whatever the hell—look like sandbox juice.
Some of those energies? Shit some didn't even know existed. One of them growled and he swore his spine nearly folded in prayer.
Space twisted like it was being crumpled like a receipt. Time? Bent over backward like a cheerleader trying too hard. And the void? It didn't retreat. It ran. Full-on "get me out of here" energy. As if whatever was showing up was too holy, too ancient, too untouchably bad-ass for it to touch.
And from that absolute fuckstorm of power—she formed.
The Avatar.
Of a woman.
Not just beautiful. Not just divine. She looked like power had a daughter and gave her the cheat codes.
The second she stabilized, Helena and Maya dropped instantly.
"Princess," they breathed—like that word was sacred. And hell, maybe it was.
The Avatar—Princess—tilted her head in acknowledgment. That's it. A single nod.
The result?
Cracks spiderwebbed across space. Literal cracks. The dimension screamed. She sighed, casually, like someone smelling spoiled coffee.
"This world…" she murmured, voice soft but laced with ancient exhaustion. "Still weak. Even as a Prime World, it's barely worth stepping into even with an avatar with not even a 1% of me."
Her eyes—those ancient, unreadable orbs—slid toward Nyxavere.
"Oh, you haven't changed," she said, voice curling with both fondness and warning. "Still rude. No greeting?"
Nyxavere grinned, wide and wicked.
"I'll bow," she said, "once we settle which one of us is weaker."
Parker's breath hitched. That wasn't a joke.
The Avatar's chuckle was pure sin and stardust.
Vivian rolled her eyes, deadpan as ever. "Can we skip the dick-measuring and get to the point?"
The Princess glanced at her with a grin sharp enough to slice a star in half. "Still sulking because you're the weakest of the four?"
Vivian didn't even blink. Just gave the royal side-eye.
"Remind me to stab you later."
Vivian scoffed and continued, arms crossed tight like she was holding back from hurling the nearest star at someone. "Whatever you came here for, finish it. Then get the fuck out."
Yeah. No love lost there.
Parker chuckled under his breath and took a step forward. No hesitation. No fear. Just warmth laced with memories no one else in the room could touch.
"El," he said simply.
And just like that, the Avatar turned—not the all-powerful entity, not the cosmic juggernaut—but a big sister. One that hadn't seen her little brother in too long.
They hugged like time itself had missed them. Her fingers tangled in his hair. His arms gripped her tight like she was the only thing that had ever felt real.
She pulled back first, eyes dancing, lips curled with that smug sister energy. "Look at you. All tall and world-ending now. Still cute though. Annoyingly so."
He rolled his eyes. "Shut up."
"Nah," she winked.
Then her gaze shifted, sharp as a blade but warm with pride. Space warped around her like it was folding inward, obeying without question, and she walked straight up to Tessa.
"So," she said casually, "did you like my gift?"
Parker nodded, lips twitching with a grateful smirk. "Yeah. Thank you for bringing her into my life." Parker had figured out that if his life and been planned, Tessa was also pushed his way by his sister.
The Princess smiled, reached up, and pinched his cheek like a damn toddler. "Please. That was nothing."
"Yeah," Maya cut in, arms folded, voice dripping with that elegant jealousy. "After all, someone had to flex their Fate points by dropping a chaotic woman in the middle of our already messed up circle."
The Princess turned slowly, eyes glinting. "Ohhh… is that jealousy I'm smelling, little Maya?"
"Hmph!" Maya shot back, nose high. "She's just… getting on my nerves."
The Princess grinned like a fox, eyes narrowing in mock offense. "You blaming me for that? Are you questioning my intentions? My Fate?"
Maya's mouth opened, then closed. She bowed her head like a guilty kitten caught knocking over a vase. "I… wouldn't dare."
Before it spiraled further, Parker stepped in, arm sliding around Tessa's waist. "Alright, stop teasing my woman, sister."
El raised her brow. "Your woman, huh?"
He smirked. "Yup. Deal with it."
Then his tone shifted—just slightly. Enough to ground everything again.
"You guys are not fun!"
"To what do we owe the pleasure of your intrusion, El?"
Vivian groaned loudly from the corner. "Ugh, yeah, please. Just say your piece and fuck off back to your stupid-ass throne. Seriously, even your energy gives me a migraine." It was a wonder how El got so much on Vivian's nerves for her to speak so much.
El didn't even blink. She just laughed. The sound echoed like wind chimes made of galaxies.
Then everything snapped cold.
The laughter faded.
The smile dropped.
And in its place came the seriousness—the kind that made gods flinch and worlds quiet down.
El's voice dropped low, but it carried like a divine verdict.
"Shit's getting real."
She didn't need to scream. The weight in her words bent the room.
She looked between Parker and Vivian—two powerhouses in their own right—but right now, she wasn't giving them a choice. This wasn't a warning. This was her telling them the fuse was already lit.
"The Olympians… they're about to end this Prime World."
Parker's brows furrowed. That didn't sound right. Those glowing-robed cosplayers? They were loud, dramatic, sure—but world-ending?
Vivian let out a nasty little snort, arms crossed like she was already bored. "Those ego-drenched weaklings couldn't end a group chat, let alone a Prime world."
El nodded, not disagreeing. "Exactly. They don't have that kind of power."
Then she paused, tilted her head like she was listening to something cosmic in the back of her skull.
"But they did make a mistake."
Her eyes slid back to Parker—sharp, knowing, a little amused, but also deadly serious.
"Thanks to you, sweet brother," she said, voice dripping with fond sarcasm, "they freaked out. Bad. You showed up, flexed a little too hard of what exactly you're—and they panicked."
Parker blinked. "I barely touched them or any of theirs."
"Yeah, well, they're soft," she shot back. "So they ran crying to the only thing they thought could help."
And then her tone dropped even further.
"They went to THEY."
The air froze. Even the cracks in space seemed to hold their breath.
"They thought THEY would give them a helping hand," El said, her voice coated in venom. "But what they actually did… was open a fucking gateway."
Silence.
Pure. Crushing. Silence.
Then she whispered, "And we all know what the hell that means."
No one replied.
Because THEY didn't enter worlds.
THEY devoured them.
Vivian's eyes sharpened. "No."
El nodded. "Yeah. They thought THEY would help. What they didn't realize is THEY don't help. THEY infiltrate. THEY consume. And those morons just gave them a gateway into this Prime World." n𝚘𝚟𝚙𝚞𝚋.𝚌o𝚖
Silence hit like a hammer.
Parker's jaw clenched.
Vivian muttered something that might've been a prayer or a death wish.
El's voice dropped, final and bone-deep:
"And we all know what's come next."
