Metroid: Null

Chapter 1: The Drifting Grave​

Final Audio Log of Ren Yumeko

The distress signal had been repeating for over a week, but no one ever answered.

We didn’t think much of it when we docked. Space Pirate traps were common—distress beacons luring in unsuspecting ships, only for their crew to be slaughtered and their vessel looted.

But this one felt different. The voice in the transmission... there was something raw in it. Not forced. Not fabricated. Real terror.

I should have ignored it.

Our crew of seven—Jules, Garvy, Jane, Tyler, Arlo, Fern, and myself—boarded the ship with weapons ready. We had done this before. Rescues, recoveries, salvage runs. Merchant vessels, transport ships, pleasure cruisers—we’d seen the aftermath of both tragedy and ambush.

But something was wrong the moment we stepped inside.

Silence. No signs of struggle, no bodies, just... absence. Weapons lay discarded on the floor. Meals left half-eaten. Clothes scattered as if their owners had simply vanished. It was eerie, but we assumed it was a trap.

I wish it had been.

We made our way to the bridge. Systems were operational, the ship intact—no sign of a battle, no hull breaches, nothing. We sifted through logs, searched for answers. Then we checked security footage.

And that’s when we saw her.

The Hunter.

Samus Aran.

Or at least, something wearing her shape.

She moved like a shadow—silent, inhumanly fast, picking off crew members as effortlessly as a bird plucking insects from the air. Some she obliterated with a single shot. Others... she absorbed. Pulled them into her suit as if they were nothing more than fuel.

They ran. Tried to run. But it didn’t matter. No matter where they went, she was already there.

The captain managed to send the distress signal before he, too, was taken—his body sinking into her armor like water.

Then, for the first time, she hesitated.

She turned.

Faced the camera.

The visor of her helmet was nothing but blackness—deep, infinite, like staring into a starless void. But somehow... somehow, I felt her looking at us.

And I swear, in that empty abyss, I saw her smile.

The recording cut out.

And Jules was gone.

No sound. No struggle. One moment she was standing with us—then nothing. She had been taken without a single one of us noticing.

The realization hit all at once. She was already here.

Panic took hold. We ran, leaving explosives in our wake, determined to erase this ship from existence. But it didn’t matter. We were doomed the moment we stepped aboard.

Garvy was next. He glanced around a corner, and then—gone. Not even a scream. Not even an echo. As if he had never existed at all.

One by one, she hunted us. I don’t know if she was toying with us, if she enjoyed it, or if we were nothing more than insects crushed beneath her heel.

I’m the only one left now.

I made it back to the shuttle. Thought I was safe. I detached from the ship, punched in the coordinates for the nearest outpost. I was free.

Then I saw the reflection in the cockpit window.

She’s here.

I don’t know why she’s letting me record this. Maybe she thinks it’s funny. Maybe she just wants me to understand. But I can feel her behind me now. The weight of her presence. The suffocating, crushing silence.

I should hear her move. I should hear something.

But there’s nothing.

My head feels heavy. My vision is fading. Everything is dimming.

If anyone finds this message…

We have to stop her.

Or she’ll end us all.

Ren Yumeko, signing off.

Chapter 2: The End of Order​

No one wanted to say it out loud, but every soldier, every officer, every last soul in the Federation fleet knew the truth—this wasn’t a battle. It was an execution, and they were the ones standing in line.

Reports flooded in from across the galaxy, from every corner of the universe. Samus had been sighted again and again.

Rather, "NullSamus," as they had now designated her.

Distress beacons blared from Federation outposts, colonized planets, even Space Pirate strongholds—pleas for help that went unanswered. One transmission, faint and fleeting, seemed to originate from the remnants of the Chozo. But just as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished, leaving only speculation and dread.

The War Council convened, desperate to devise a strategy, a weapon, anything to stop her. They knew Samus better than anyone—her strengths, her weaknesses, the things that made her human. If even a fragment of her former self remained, they would exploit it.

Over the years, in secret, they had reverse-engineered her technology. The Wave Beam, Power Bombs, even the most obscure upgrades she had acquired in her service—they had replicated them all. These weapons were never meant for her. They were developed as contingencies for threats like the Space Pirates, the X, or the return of the Metroids. Never did they imagine they would have to use them against the one who had saved them all.

Their plan, though simple in concept, demanded absolute precision. One mistake, one miscalculation, and it would spell doom for the Federation. They would exploit the one thing Samus could never ignore: the cry of an infant Metroid.

The bait was set—a Federation distress beacon broadcasting the unmistakable call of a newborn Metroid, luring her to an uninhabited planet. Once she arrived, they would unleash everything. Cloaked ships lay in wait in low orbit, primed with experimental Freeze Cannons infused with Wave Beam energy—designed to bypass her shielding and strike her directly. Thousands of Super Missiles, each the size of a small vehicle, were locked onto her position to keep her from escaping. And when their arsenal was depleted, a final failsafe: an entire warship filled with Power Bombs, primed to detonate and erase the planet from existence.

No one spoke as they watched the beacon pulse, its artificial cries echoing into the void. Silence gripped the fleet, tension thick enough to choke.

Then, without warning, she was there.

They hadn’t seen her approach. She simply was, standing by the beacon as though she had always been there. The very space around her seemed to bend, swallowing light itself. The ground cracked beneath her feet with every step.

“OPEN FIRE!” a commander roared.

The sky ignited. The Federation ships dropped their cloaking, unleashing a blinding cascade of weapons fire. Thousands of beams, missiles, and explosions rained down upon her, a relentless storm of destruction.

She moved—faster than anything they had anticipated. Her cannon fired, but even she couldn’t counter the sheer volume of fire. A Freeze Cannon struck true, locking her lower body in ice. She looked up as the next salvo descended, her visor an abyssal void, and then—

Detonation.

For nine relentless hours, they bombarded her position. The ground was glassed, turned to molten ruin. Sensors confirmed she remained, tossed and battered within the storm of firepower.

Still, they would take no chances.

The warship carrying over ten thousand Power Bombs descended, slamming into the planet directly atop her location. The resulting explosion outshone a supernova, wiping the planet—and its moon—from existence.

Silence.

Instruments recalibrated. Scanners swept the void. Every officer, every soldier held their breath.

“No life signs detected, sir…” crackled over the comms.

A pause. Then, slowly, relief spread through the fleet. The fear, the weight of dread, began to lift. A cheer broke out, hesitant at first, then growing—

THUMP.

The sound rippled through every ship, through every soul.

THUMP.

Cheering stopped. Officers scrambled to their consoles, desperate for answers. Emergency resupply orders were issued. Smaller ships scrambled to distribute ammunition.

THUMP.

They could hear it now. Even in the vast emptiness of space, they could hear it.

THUMP.

A heartbeat.

And then, just as before, she was there—floating in the void where the planet had been. Space twisted around her, reality itself seeming to warp.

A panicked officer fired, an Ice Wave Beam lancing toward her.

It passed right through.

Something had changed. Something was wrong.

“All ships, RETREAT! GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE!!” The order bellowed across the comms.

Panic erupted. Hyperdrives engaged, ships scrambling to escape. They had to get out—

One ship, too close, recorded its final moments. The inky black visor turned toward the pilot. Then, for the first time, light bloomed within it.

A face was there.

A face that defied words.

A face that almost seemed to smile.

And then the footage cut out. The ship simply ceased to exist.

Of the four million ships that had launched that day, only five hundred returned.

The Federation’s losses were beyond catastrophic. Its influence collapsed overnight, leaving humanity to fend for itself in a galaxy now ruled by fear.

Those who survived spoke in hushed whispers, their voices tinged with madness and despair. Many abandoned the Federation, choosing to spend what little time they believed they had left with their families.

Word spread across the universe. The Federation had failed.

Worse, they had made things worse than anyone had thought possible.

Chapter 3: Desperate Creation​

The sadness in our hearts was immense.

Learning that our daughter had fallen—lost her way among the stars—was almost too much to bear. We, the last remnants of the Chozo, had scattered ourselves across the universe to avoid extinction. We stayed hidden, avoiding war, avoiding conflict, watching from the shadows. But no longer.

She is our responsibility.

Even if it pains us to do so, even if it means our own destruction, we cannot let her continue.

The humans tried to stop her, but they only succeeded in making her stronger. The distress signal we attempted to send was severed before it could reach anyone—cut off as if she knew what we were doing.

That meant we had only one option left.

We sought out the last surviving remnants of the Space Pirates, deep in the forgotten corners of the galaxy. How they had survived, we did not know. Perhaps she knew they were there and simply did not care enough to wipe them out. They were feral, broken, little more than scavengers feeding on the scraps of a dead empire. But we managed to speak to them, and more importantly, we made them listen.

We offered them the only thing they would accept in return for their aid: their leaders.

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Somehow, they had salvaged what remained of both Ridley and Mother Brain—fragments of flesh, strands of tissue, calcified bone. It wasn't much, but it was enough.

Mother Brain was the first to awaken. At first, she raged, her hatred of us as strong as ever. But she was a calculating machine, and when she heard our words, saw the truth of what had become of The Child, her anger cooled. Her optic narrowed, her vast mind processing the weight of what had been lost.

"Fine," she said at last. "Revive the commander of my army. We have work to do."

Ridley was next. He was... less receptive.

It took far too long to make him understand the situation—longer than we would have liked. We did not know when she would sense what we were doing, when she would descend upon us in fury. But we needed him.

Despite his appearance, Ridley was no mindless beast. He was cunning, adaptive, far more intelligent than we had ever given him credit for. But even in the face of oblivion, his first instinct was always destruction.

"If I see her, I'll tear her apart myself."

Perhaps he had learned something, having been slain by Samus so many times before. But in the end, he was still Ridley.

Regardless, we enhanced them both—augmented their strength with Chozo technology, granted them armor far beyond what they had before. It would not be enough to stop her, not alone. But they did not need to defeat her. They only needed to stall her.

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We abandoned the planet that had hidden the Pirates, detonating it behind us to leave no traces. We moved deep into uncharted space, as far from her as we could go.

We chose a world orbiting a black hole. A dangerous place, unstable, but useful for our plan. We explained it to our new allies: we were not building a weapon to destroy Samus. That was impossible. Instead, we would build a dimensional nullification device—a machine that would erase her from this reality entirely.

We pooled all our knowledge, our research into interdimensional fields and the metaphysical properties of Metroids. Of all the DNA that had taken root inside her, the Metroid DNA was the most powerful, the most volatile. If we could invert it, force it to consume itself, her body might collapse, pulling her into oblivion.

Mother Brain calculated a mere 50% chance of success.

We knew. But 50% was better than nothing.

Ridley scoffed at the plan, calling it cowardice. He insisted on a backup plan. But his "backup plan" was nothing more than his own deluded belief that he could kill her himself.

He hadn't changed after all.

Time was short. We worked in endless shifts, rotating teams of scientists to keep the device's development constant. Scouts returned with information, and what we learned only deepened our desperation.

She had a new name among the remnants of the Federation.

NullSamus.

And since she had annihilated the Federation, she had vanished.

That terrified us more than anything.

We couldn't afford to fail.

So we enhanced our defenses, built shields and weapons using the gravitational field of the black hole, anything to buy ourselves more time. We even further modified Ridley and Mother Brain—against our instincts, against our pride, we gave them the greatest armor the Chozo had ever created.

And then, sooner than expected, the device was finished.

We placed the final wire. The machine hummed to life.

And just in time.

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She had found us.

Our scouts detected an absence in space—an object moving toward us faster than any ship, a void where there should have been light. Planets in her path crumbled to dust as she passed through them.

She arrived within the hour.

But we were ready.

As soon as she stepped foot on the planet, we unleashed everything we had—plasma turrets, energy barriers, even weaponized Phazon.

Nothing touched her.

Some attacks passed through her harmlessly. Others distorted, vanishing from existence entirely.

The Phazon was simply absorbed into her form.

And then Ridley struck.

He lunged from behind, his new Chozo-enhanced claws raking across her helmet.

For the first time, she staggered.

A deep, jagged gash split the side of her visor.

Ridley grinned. He had drawn blood. He had hurt her.

Then she turned to look at him.

Her helmet began to heal, the blackness of her visor swallowing the wound, but for one terrible moment, he saw something inside—rage beyond reason, beyond time, beyond mortality.

She may not have been Samus anymore.

But she remembered Ridley.

She was in front of him before he could react.

She grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into the ground with such force that the entire battlefield quaked.

She did not fire her arm cannon.

She beat him with it. Again. And again. The sound of fracturing bone echoed through the air.

But in those crucial moments, the device had powered on.

A drone carried it above NullSamus as she raised her arm for one final strike.

Then it dropped.

The machine latched onto her head, surging with energy.

For the first time, she screamed.

Her body twisted, distorting impossibly, trying to phase out of existence—but the machine held her in place, flooding her with destabilizing energy.

Reality around her collapsed.

Mother Brain's systems overloaded in an instant. Her brain fried. Ridley let out a final screech before being swallowed by the growing singularity.

The planet cracked. The black hole twisted. The entire star system trembled.

And then—

A hole in reality tore open.

NullSamus and the black hole vanished. The entire system was erased.

We warped away just in time.

I am the last Chozo.

I was ordered to stay far enough away to survive. To bear witness.

Now, I send transmissions across the universe, warning anyone who will listen.

Some celebrate. Others live in fear. Some whisper that she is not truly gone—that she is simply somewhere else.

To the remnants of the Federation, I send only one message:

"She is no longer here. Pray she does not return."

Chapter 4: The First Step Beyond​

A violent tear split open the fabric of reality.

A gash of writhing void manifested high above a darkened forest, the air itself shrieking in protest. A black mass plummeted from the rift, landing with a deafening thud amidst the trees, sending leaves and dust spiraling into the air.

She awoke instantly.

There was no hesitation, no disorientation—her body reacted before thought was even necessary. She rose, her movements unnatural, inhumanly swift. Her head twisted in a full 360-degree rotation, scanning, analyzing, processing.

The body flickered, momentarily unstable.

Something had been done to her. An attempt to remove her, to seal her away, to stop what could not be stopped.

It had failed.

A dull thud drew her gaze downward. A device had fallen from her head, detached, rendered useless. She studied it for less than a second before reaching out, her suit shifting, assimilating the broken technology into itself. It would be useful.

Then, she began to walk.

The forest around her was alive with sound, a ceaseless, nagging melody embedded in the very air. It was intrusive. It was unnecessary.

With her first step, it ceased.

The unnatural silence spread like a plague, choking out all noise. The forest, once shifting and labyrinthine, twisted in defiance of her intrusion—but it didn’t matter.

She stepped forward, and space bent to accommodate her.

Where others would have been lost, she passed freely. The maze was meaningless. The world resisted her presence, but resistance was futile.

This reality was soft—pliable, weak. She could feel its fragile structure buckling under her weight, its very laws of existence struggling to reject her. Yet beneath it all, there was something more. A pattern. A cycle.

She didn’t care.

She had already broken her own cycle. She would break this one too.

---

The forest ended abruptly.

At its heart lay an ancient temple, stone steps cracked with age. That was not what drew her attention.

A body lay at the foot of the stairs.

She approached, her shadow stretching over the broken figure.

Male. Young, yet old in spirit. His green tunic was soaked in crimson, his arm twisted beyond repair. A shattered sword lay beside him. His breath came in ragged gasps.

Her gaze flicked over him, her scans piercing his form.

He was Kokiri. No—not quite. Something else.

A warrior. A chosen one. Forced into an endless fight. A cycle.

A cycle that had abandoned him when he needed it most.

A small orb of flickering light hovered above his chest—faint, fading. The last remnants of his strength.

He stirred.

His unfocused eyes, still burning with defiance, locked onto her void-black form.

He reached out with his free hand. Weak. Shaking. But reaching.

For a moment, she stared. The void of her visor reflected nothing, betrayed nothing.

And yet, as his consciousness faded, he could have sworn—just for an instant—that he saw something within that darkness.

Sympathy.

Then, his vision went black.

---

She did not let him die.

Instead, she reached within herself, extracted a piece of her own existence, and placed it upon him.

The darkness consumed him.

His body twisted—bones popping, flesh reshaping, his very essence reforged into something new. His broken arm was mended, his wounds erased, yet the process was anything but healing.

It was evolution.

A resistance flared within his form—a mark upon his hand, a triangle of gold that shone defiantly against the creeping corruption.

For a moment, it pushed back.

For a moment, it fought.

But in the end, it, too, succumbed.

The shattered sword at his side trembled, something within it screaming against the change. It refused—tried to refuse.

It did not matter.

The darkness was inevitable.

The sacred blade turned black.

The mark of the gods faded.

And then, the transformation was complete.

The darkness receded, slithering back into her as the new being slowly stirred.

His skin had turned deathly pale.

His tunic was no longer green—now it was as black as her own.

His sword and shield, once symbols of light, were now void-forged weapons.

Beside him, the tiny orb of light remained.

A fairy.

Its glow was dim, its voice barely a whisper.

"Hey..."

It had not been lost, not fully. Not yet.

The warrior rose.

He picked up his blade, examined his new form, and turned to face her.

His eyes—once blue, once full of fire—were now empty voids.

And then, he knelt.

He planted his sword into the ground, bowing his head.

A silent vow.

Fealty.

She gazed down at him. He was not as powerful as she, not yet. But that didn’t matter.

He was hers now.

With that, she turned, stepping into the unknown.

Her new knight followed without question.

The fairy drifted behind them, its glow flickering like a dying star.

The forest had nothing left for her.

There was a world to explore.

And soon, it would belong to her.

Chapter 5: A Fractured World​

Zelda awoke with a start, bolting upright in bed, her sheets soaked in sweat. A sharp pain throbbed behind her eyes, her breath coming in quick gasps. It had been a dream—or a vision. She couldn’t be sure.

She had seen Link.

She hadn’t seen him in some time, assuming he was still fighting Ganon’s forces in the Gerudo Desert. But now—this dream—this vision—shattered that assumption.

He stood before her, yet he was wrong. Darker. Something malicious bled from his very being, a force more overwhelming than anything she had ever sensed. Stronger than Ganon. More unnatural than any evil before it.

She had called out to him. He did not move. Did not blink.

Behind him, something else loomed. A void, an abyss beyond comprehension. It did not merely lack light—it lacked existence. Its edges blurred and wavered, as if reality itself was struggling to hold it in place.

She had tried to focus on it, to understand, but in that moment… it noticed her.

It turned to her.

And then, the world collapsed. Hyrule. The castle. Her.

The last thing she saw before waking was the Triforce on Link’s hand, pulsing with that same void-like energy, as if it had been claimed by something else.

---

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Zelda stumbled out of bed, clutching her wrist as a searing heat burned from her own Triforce mark. She rushed to the window and threw it open—then gasped.

The kingdom was… wrong.

The air was thick and stagnant, heavy yet odorless. The sunlight seemed weaker, its golden glow dulled as if something unseen was leeching its radiance. Shadows stretched impossibly long, creeping across streets and rooftops in ways that defied reason.

A sharp knock at her door pulled her away.

"Your Highness, I have urgent news from... everywhere."

The guard’s face was pale, his hands shaking as he handed her an entire stack of reports.

Zelda flipped through them with increasing dread.

• The people of Hyrule had all shared the same nightmare—a darkened Link, a looming void, the world drowning in darkness.
• The Lost Woods were unreachable. Every attempt to enter led travelers back out, as if the forest itself had shut its doors.
• Death Mountain’s foothill villages had gone silent. A pack of beasts—not Moblins, not Bokoblins, something else—had gathered outside the town gates. They did not attack. They did not move. They simply watched.
• The roads to Zora’s Domain and the Gerudo Desert had vanished—replaced by a void-like barrier of absolute darkness.

Her heart pounded.

She tore open her wardrobe, pulling on her armor in place of her royal gown, fastening her rapier to her hip. Every step through the castle was firm, but her mind raced. This was not Ganon’s doing. This was something else.

She entered the throne room, where six of the Seven Sages stood in frantic discussion.

Before she could even demand order, the doors burst open.

A small figure stumbled in.

Saria.

She was bleeding. Her side slick with crimson, her arm broken at an unnatural angle.

The sages rushed forward to catch her as she collapsed. Zelda knelt beside her, hands already glowing with healing magic.

"Saria—what happened?! Where is Link?"

Fear crept into her voice. If Saria was like this… what had happened to Link?

The Kokiri girl shuddered, her breaths ragged.

"I… I felt a disturbance… outside the temple… something happened to Link," she gasped. "There was a being there, something darker than anything I’ve ever seen. It did something to him—I don’t know what."

She gripped Zelda’s wrist, her green eyes wide with horror.

"Zelda… he’s gone."

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Far beyond Hyrule’s walls, across the shifting sands of the Gerudo Desert, a lone figure stood at the threshold of his kingdom.

Ganondorf.

He had heard the reports. His desert was cut off from the rest of Hyrule, a barrier of unnatural darkness standing where open dunes once stretched.

But he paid it little mind.

Something else held his attention.

He stood at the desert’s edge, staring into the howling sandstorm. He could feel it. A presence unlike any he had encountered.

At first, he assumed it was Zelda’s meddling. Or perhaps that wretched fairy boy had uncovered some forgotten power.

But no.

This… this was something else. Something darker.

A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. He extended his mind outward, reaching into the abyss, probing the edges of this newfound power.

And then—

It answered.

Malice crashed against his consciousness like a black tide, a weight so vast and overwhelming that it threatened to consume him entirely. He staggered, gritting his teeth as he fought to remain upright.

He had expected power. He had expected corruption, ambition—something he could bend to his will.

But this wasn’t ambition.

This wasn’t conquest.

This was erasure.

Something faceless, thoughtless, formless—pure and absolute in its purpose.

And then, it turned its attention to him.

A cold dread unlike anything he had ever felt pierced through him.

Ganondorf ripped himself free, severing the connection with a sharp breath, collapsing to one knee. His warriors rushed to his side, their concern evident, but he shoved them away.

He turned his gaze back toward the desert.

This was not what he had thought it was.

This wasn’t a power to control.

This was something that should not be.

The Triforce of Power on his hand burned—not with strength, but with warning.

With a scowl, he called for parchment and a quill.

As much as it disgusted him, this was not a fight he could afford to face alone.

If Hyrule fell, there would be nothing left to rule.

Chapter 6: An Unfair Trick​

It had been a month since she arrived in this realm. A month since her presence had begun twisting it into something unrecognizable. Hyrule was rotting under her influence—its sun reduced to a dim ember, its sky steeped in a sickly red haze. The land itself writhed with her corruption, ancient forests turned to labyrinths of grasping black roots, mountains left as charred husks, and rivers choked with inky, pulsating filth. Every stronghold had fallen—Kokiri Forest, Death Mountain, Gerudo Fortress—all of them consumed.

Only one place remained untouched.

Hyrule Castle stood defiant, its town wrapped in a barrier of sacred magic. It pulsed like a dying star, resisting her, but only barely. She watched from afar as her influence hissed and crackled against its surface, a battle of attrition she knew she would win. The light was fading, inch by inch. It was only a matter of time.

But NullSamus was not patient.

She had learned everything she needed from the broken remnants of Link’s mind. His memories guided her through this world’s cycles, its patterns, its flaws. The sages had fled before NullLink could claim them, abandoning their temples in fear. No matter. She had defiled those places anyway, twisting them into extensions of her will. She could feel their absence, their cowardice, hiding behind that fragile light in the castle town.

It wouldn’t matter.

She understood now—this world was an endless loop, an eternal struggle between power, wisdom, and courage. The Triforce was the key, the thing that bound everything to its cycle. It dictated the war between rulers, the rise and fall of heroes, the inevitable clash of fates. But NullSamus cared nothing for rulers, nothing for power.

She would end it all.

NullLink stood beside her, his gaze locked on the castle town below. He was no longer a hero—he was something else, something new. His will had been devoured by the same infinite rage and despair that drove NullSamus. No light remained in his hollow eyes. Floating beside him, Navi murmured in incomprehensible whispers, her glow reduced to a sickly violet pulse. The Master Sword, once a beacon of divine purpose, was as black as a starless void, nothing more than an extension of her will now.

The final pieces were in place. The Spiritual Stones had been gathered, left uncorrupted only because she still required them. Once the Temple of Time was breached, once the Sacred Realm lay bare before her, this cycle would be erased.

All that remained was a way inside.

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The people of Hyrule lived in fear.

Trapped within their walls, they dared not venture beyond the barrier. They could not see what had become of their lands, but they felt it. They heard the voices in the night, the distant sounds of something moving just beyond their sight.

The survivors—what remained of the Zora, Gorons, Gerudo, and Kokiri—had all fled here, seeking sanctuary. Now they stood in uneasy silence, staring out at the darkness beyond the barrier’s edge. Pairs of unblinking eyes stared back.

Inside the castle, Zelda sat at a long table with Ganon and the sages. The atmosphere was tense. The barrier held—for now—but it was failing. The corruption was creeping closer, seeping into the cracks of reality itself.

Saria lay unconscious, her injuries too severe to allow her to fight. That alone left them at a disadvantage. But the worst part?

They still didn’t understand what they were facing.

Ganon had shared what little he knew, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing they had learned brought them any closer to stopping it.

Zelda pressed her hands into her temples. She was tired. Exhausted. She had barely slept since this nightmare began. Link…

Saria had told her that Link was gone.

She didn’t want to believe it.

She couldn’t.

He had the Triforce of Courage—he was destined to fight back, to overcome. That was how the story always went. That was how it was supposed to be.

A sudden crash of boots against stone shattered the silence.

A soldier stumbled into the chamber, breathless and pale-faced. His voice trembled as he spoke:

“Your Highness… It’s Link.”

For a moment, everything stopped.

The soldier held out a crumpled letter, his hands shaking. Zelda snatched it from him, scanning the words frantically.

Her breath hitched.

She shot to her feet, her heart racing.

The sages called after her, but she was already running.

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A crowd had gathered at the town gates.

Zelda shoved her way through, ignoring the murmurs, her heart hammering against her ribs.

Then she saw him.

Lying just beyond the barrier, his arm twisted at a sickening angle, his tunic torn and bloodied. The Master Sword—shattered—hung limply in his grip. Navi, barely a flickering speck of light, hovered weakly beside him.

Her breath caught in her throat.

She knew it. He was alive. He had to be.

She surged forward, reaching for the barrier’s edge—

A hand clamped down on her shoulder.

Ganon.

She turned to glare at him, but his expression was unreadable. His red eyes locked onto Link, calculating, untrusting.

“Do not let him in.”

His voice was low, measured.

“He’s been out there too long. If you open the barrier, we all die.”

Zelda hesitated.

The words made sense. They made perfect sense.

But then—

A sound.

“…Z… Zelda…”

Soft. Weak. Barely a whisper.

Her breath hitched.

Her fingers moved on their own.

The barrier flickered for the briefest of moments—just long enough.

Link collapsed forward, hitting the cobblestone, his body limp.

The crowd rushed to him, voices overlapping in frantic concern. Zelda fell to her knees, hands glowing as she reached to heal him.

She didn’t notice Ganon watching from a distance, his expression unreadable.

She didn’t notice the way the darkness, just outside the barrier, had stopped pressing forward.

She didn’t see the first crack forming in the final defense of Hyrule.

But NullSamus did.

And she smiled.

Chapter 7: The Fall​

Link's broken and torn body was placed in the same recovery chamber as Saria. The healer who had been tending to the green-haired Sage now turned their attention to Link, carefully working to mend his wounds. A wave of hope spread throughout the castle and town—Link had returned. With him back, they finally had a chance to fight back against the darkness that threatened to consume the kingdom.

Zelda, the Sages, and Ganon reconvened in the war room to discuss their next move.

But while they debated, Ganon remained silent. A chill crawled up his spine, the primal kind that warned of unseen danger. He felt it—the weight of something watching him. Listening.

He grunted in irritation, pushing himself up from his seat. The Sages continued their discussion, strategizing how best to use Link in the fight ahead. Ganon scoffed to himself. The boy had always been a pawn to them, a weapon wielded without a second thought. They didn’t care what he thought—only that he fought for them.

He left the castle, making his way through the town, his presence parting the citizens like a shadow in torchlight. Whispers followed in his wake, but he ignored them. His focus was on the front gate, where the sacred barrier still stood. He stopped before it, gazing out into the suffocating darkness beyond.

Something didn’t add up.

If the green Sage was right—if Link was truly gone, swallowed by that entity—then why was he back now? Why let him return?

Ganon closed his eyes and focused, reaching outward with his senses.

And then he felt it.

His eyes snapped open, heart hammering in his chest.

She was there.

NullSamus stood just beyond the barrier, her void-like form somehow darker than the shadows around her. Even her visor seemed to devour what little light remained.

They locked eyes—if she even had them. Ganon couldn’t be sure.

Then, slowly, she raised her hand and placed it against the barrier.

Ganon’s breath hitched as an unnatural energy pulsed outward, rippling through the protective ward like a stone cast into still water.

It didn’t break. It didn’t even crack.

But it didn’t have to.

Realization struck him like a hammer. His blood turned to ice.

“THAT FOOL OF A PRINCESS!”

He spun on his heel, drawing his sword just as an explosion ripped through the castle.

The barrier shattered.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

---

Screams echoed through the castle halls.

Zelda and the Sages raced toward the recovery room, their hearts pounding as the wails of the terrified echoed through the stone corridors.

They reached the door—only to stop dead in their tracks.

The sight before them was worse than any nightmare.

Link stood in the center of the room, wreathed in darkness, his once-bright tunic now a shifting abyss of ink and shadow. His skin had turned deathly pale, and his eyes—those familiar, determined eyes—were nothing but endless voids.

The healer who had been tending to him was the same. Motionless. Hollow. Consumed.

But worst of all—

Saria dangled in his grip, fingers weakly clawing at his wrist as he held her aloft. The darkened Master Sword gleamed in his other hand, poised to strike.

“Link—NO!” Zelda screamed.

But there was nothing left of Link to hear her.

The sword plunged into Saria’s chest.

Her body convulsed, twisting unnaturally as darkness poured into her, consuming her like ink spilling into water.

Zelda couldn’t breathe. The world spun around her. Ganon had been right. They had let the monster in.

The Sages sprang into action, rushing forward to subdue him. But NullLink merely lifted his hand.

A pulse of corrupted energy exploded outward—a darkened version of Din’s Fire.

The ceiling shattered. The surge of magic slammed into the barrier outside, warping it, cracking it. The sacred ward flickered, fighting to hold.
And then it collapsed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chaos.

The darkness outside surged in like a living thing, swallowing the town in an instant. Shadows slithered through the streets, twisting around fleeing citizens. They screamed as the corruption overtook them, their bodies contorting, shifting into grotesque mockeries of their former selves.

The Sages stood their ground inside the castle, weapons and magic at the ready, but Darunia turned to Zelda with a grim expression.

“RUN!” he commanded. “Find Ganon! We’ll hold him off!”

Zelda hesitated—just for a moment.

Then she turned and ran.

The last thing she saw as she fled was Saria’s body slowly rising to its feet. Her once-vibrant green hair now hung dull and lifeless. Her gentle face was twisted into something unrecognizable.

And she was smiling.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
At the gates, Ganon stood unmoving as the darkness devoured everything around him.

His Gerudo warriors. The townspeople. The guards.

All lost.

The Triforce of Power blazed to life, shielding him from the corruption, but it was a hollow victory. He was alone.

NullSamus stepped forward, stopping a few feet away. She did not rush. She did not attack. She simply watched.

Ganon clenched his fists.

His rage boiled over.

With a snarl, he launched a barrage of fireballs, then lunged forward, blade poised to cleave her in two.

The fire did nothing.

His sword passed through her as if she were made of smoke.

She did not flinch.

Then, in an instant, her arm cannon snapped upward.

A blast tore through the space where his head had been a second before. He barely dodged, the heat singing his skin—melting his ear clean off.

Pain seared through him, but he gritted his teeth and turned, searching—

“GANON!”

Zelda’s voice cut through the chaos. He spun, spotting her in the darkness. Like him, the Triforce shielded her—if only for now.

“I’ll hold this thing off!” he roared. “Get to the Temple of Time!”

She hesitated. “But—”

“GO!”

Zelda bit her lip, then turned and ran.

Ganon exhaled, shifting his gaze back to his opponent.

His stomach dropped.

It wasn’t just NullSamus anymore.

She was no longer alone.

NullLink stood at her side, his corrupted Master Sword resting at his shoulder.

And behind them, twisted and drenched in the same sickening darkness, stood all of the Sages.

Ganon straightened.

Then, he laughed.

A deep, bellowing laugh, full of bitter amusement.

He knew what this was.

This was his death.

But if he was going down—he’d go down as a king.

The Triforce of Power blazed to life, engulfing his body in an inferno of crimson light. He roared as his form expanded, his body warping, shifting, growing. His frame towered over them all, monstrous and unrelenting.

Twin swords materialized in his massive hands, glinting with primal fury.

He bared his fangs.

And then he charged.

Chapter 8: End of a Cycle

Zelda sprinted through the broken and ruined streets of Hyrule, her breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps. Her boots slipped on the slick cobblestones, still slick with the blood of her people. Around her, the corrupted forms of her citizens wandered aimlessly through the blackened haze—shambling husks of what they once were. Their eyes, vacant and hollow, reflected nothing. Their bodies twisted and fractured by the void’s influence. Their souls, long since devoured by the darkness, now mere remnants of anguish.

She kept running. She didn’t look at their faces. She didn’t slow.

Beneath the suffocating weight of despair, she felt it—the faint, flickering ember of the Triforce of Power somewhere in the distance. Ganon was still fighting. Still raging against the inescapable tide. His lingering presence was a beacon—a defiant roar in the face of annihilation—telling her that she still had a chance.

A chance to fix all of this.

Zelda staggered to a halt before the crumbling remains of the Temple of Time, her chest heaving with exhaustion. The once-grand structure was little more than a skeletal ruin, its stone pillars reduced to fractured stumps and its once-proud arches barely clinging together. Jagged spires of collapsed masonry jutted toward the blackened sky, a grim reminder of the kingdom’s fall.

The King, in his final act of defiance, had ordered the temple’s destruction—sacrificing Hyrule’s last hope to keep Ganon from ever reaching it. The temple's sanctum lay buried beneath tons of stone and rubble, its entrance lost to time.

But Zelda knew the secret.
Before the king fell, he had pressed a small, rusted key into her trembling hand, along with a whispered promise.

“If all is lost… this will still be here.”

She limped toward the nearby forgotten graveyard, hidden beneath the jagged shadows of broken spires. The tombstones were weathered and cracked, their inscriptions faded beyond recognition. With shaking fingers, she crouched and pressed the key into the lock beneath an unmarked headstone. The rusted mechanism groaned, reluctant to obey, before finally releasing.

A stone slab shifted aside, revealing a narrow, winding staircase that plunged into darkness. Without hesitation, Zelda descended.

Deep beneath the surface, the corruption could not reach.

The Temple of Time’s sanctum was still intact—a sanctuary preserved in golden light. Its ethereal glow spilled through fractured stained-glass windows, painting the stone walls in soft hues of red, green, and blue. The sacred space was untouched by the chaos above—a flickering remnant of what Hyrule once was.

As Zelda stepped into the chamber, the Triforce of Wisdom at her chest flared one last time, its light sparking defiantly against the encroaching void. But she felt it flickering, its power nearly spent, leaving her vulnerable. The divine shield that had kept her safe thus far was rapidly fading.

Still, hope bloomed in her chest—fragile but unwavering—as she made her way toward the Pedestal of Time. Her footsteps echoed faintly through the sacred chamber, the only sound beyond her labored breaths.

She reached into the pouch at her side and retrieved three ancient gems—red, green, and blue—the Spiritual Stones. With trembling hands, she placed them upon the altar before the Door of Time.

The temple groaned as the massive stone door shuddered and creaked. Dust and debris fell from the ceiling as the ancient mechanism rumbled to life. The seal, long dormant, began to unlock. The Door of Time slowly parted, golden light spilling through the narrowing gap.

But it was too slow.

Impatient, desperate, Zelda abandoned caution. She shoved her shoulder between the slowly opening doors and squeezed herself through the crack, tearing her sleeve on the jagged stone but not caring.

She stumbled into the chamber beyond and nearly collapsed.

The Pedestal of Time stood at the chamber’s heart—a monolithic slab of ancient stone.
The Master Sword was long gone, stolen from its resting place. But its pedestal remained, glowing faintly with traces of the sword’s lingering power. The remnants of its divine radiance pulsed faintly with warmth—like the dying embers of a once-great flame.

Zelda stared at it, trembling.

“This is it... I can still save them.”

She dragged herself forward, her knees weak, her limbs heavy.

Her hands were bloodied and raw, shaking violently as she reached out.
All she needed to do was touch the pedestal.
To push the last flicker of power from the Triforce of Wisdom into it.
To turn back the clock.
To undo all of this.
To save Link.

Her fingers were inches away.

And then there was darkness.
All-encompassing.
Total.

Her vision vanished. The light of the Temple of Time was suddenly snuffed out.
There was no sound. No breath. No light.

Only cold, crushing nothingness.

For a moment, she thought she was blind.
And then she realized she could still feel.

She felt the iron grip of something around her wrist.
Unyielding. Inescapable.

Zelda’s heart seized in terror as she struggled, her fingers stretching toward the Pedestal of Time.
Her fingertips hovered just inches from salvation—so close—but she couldn’t reach.
The grip tightened.

And suddenly, she felt Ganon's presence vanish.
The faint beacon of the Triforce of Power—gone.
Extinguished.

Her breath hitched.

“No… no, no, no—”

A surge of panic raced through her. She summoned what little magic remained within her and attempted to cast a spell, her fingers twitching with the remnants of her power—
—but before she could, she was wrenched backward, violently ripped away from the pedestal.

The world flipped end over end as she was hurled through the stone archway. She crashed into the middle of the cathedral’s hall, her body slamming into the marble with a sickening crack.
Her ribs splintered on impact. She let out a strangled cry, her vision flashing white with pain.

Zelda gasped for air, her breath rattling as she clawed at the ground, trying to push herself up. Her vision blurred with pain and tears.
Through the haze, she saw the Temple of Time itself begin to darken.

The once-pure light of the stained glass windows dulled and flickered, snuffing out.
The gleaming gemstones on the pedestal lost their luster—fading to colorless stone.
The sacred radiance that had endured for eons withered into nothingness.

A presence loomed over her.
A void darker than the darkness around it.

Zelda’s gaze lifted slowly—her battered body trembling.
And there, standing over her, was NullSamus.

Her towering form was wreathed in void, her edges indistinct—as though the darkness could barely contain her presence. Her movements were slow and deliberate, with all the certainty of an executioner sharpening their blade.

The visor covering her face was black as pitch, darker than anything in existence—a void upon a void.

Zelda’s bloodied hand trembled.
Desperate, she called upon the last embers of magic she still carried, casting Nayru’s Love.
The blue, shimmering shield flared to life, encasing her in a protective sphere. The magic stung her fingertips—she had no power left to wield it, and she knew it.

She turned and stumbled toward the stairway, determined to flee.

But she froze.

Standing at the top of the stairs was Link.
Or what was left of him.

His pale, colorless eyes stared into hers, cold and dead.
His tunic and hat, once green, were now black as ink, swirling with oily tendrils of darkness.
He stood perfectly still.
Unmoving. Unfeeling.

His vacant eyes bore into hers—emotionless, unflinching, and utterly empty.

And Zelda knew.
It was already too late.

There was a sound like shattering glass.

The barrier of Nayru's Love splintered with a brittle, crystalline crack as NullSamus calmly walked through it. The shimmering blue ward fizzled and dissipated, offering no resistance. Its divine protection, once unyielding, was now nothing more than a fragile illusion.

Zelda staggered backward, her eyes wide with disbelief. Her trembling hand shot up, summoning the last flicker of divine energy from the Triforce of Wisdom. Its golden light flared weakly at her fingertips—frail, fleeting, and nearly extinguished.

But she was too slow.

In a flash of blackened motion, NullSamus was upon her, faster than Zelda's eyes could register. Her gauntleted hand clamped around the princess’ slender neck, lifting her effortlessly into the air.

Zelda's feet kicked feebly above the stone floor, her hands clawing at the unyielding grip. Her fingernails scraped and tore at the void-forged armor, leaving shallow, useless trails along the darkened gauntlet. Her legs thrashed in desperation, her heels catching on nothing but empty space.

Her vision blurred with tears, streaking down her pale cheeks in glistening lines.

NullSamus said nothing. She simply stared at Zelda through the black void of her visor. Cold. Empty. Absolute.

With a strangled gasp, Zelda cocked her arm back.
Summoning what little strength she had left, she swung her fist with everything she could muster.

Her knuckles slammed into the side of NullSamus’ helmet with a dull, muted thunk.

The sound was small.
Insignificant.

Zelda froze.
For a fleeting moment, the entire temple fell into complete, absolute silence.

And then—

Darkness blossomed.

It started where Zelda’s fist had struck, like a drop of ink in clear water, rapidly expanding outward.
Black tendrils of void slithered across Zelda's wrist and coiled around her arm with terrifying speed.

Her eyes widened in horror.

The Triforce of Wisdom flared in one last, defiant burst—a radiant shield of golden light desperately trying to hold back the tide. It pulsed, flickered—fighting against the inevitable.

And then it was snuffed out.

The sacred triangle on her hand darkened, its light smothered, its divinity utterly consumed by the encroaching void.

The darkness surged into her veins.
Zelda screamed.

Her body contorted violently as the void surged through her.
She arched backward, her limbs seizing as her very essence was twisted and defiled.

Her eyes faded to pure, vacant white, hollow and empty.
Her golden hair faded to ashen silver, the color draining from every strand.
Her pure white gown blackened, the delicate fabric melting into an inky, flowing shroud.

Her voice choked with agony, her scream echoing off the ruined stone walls—but even that sound was swiftly swallowed by the darkness.

And then, the light in her eyes flickered.
The remnants of her spirit, her will, her consciousness—all of it fractured.

She looked up, her body trembling in pain.
And for the briefest moment, she saw him.

Link.
Not the void-stricken husk he had become, but the boy she once knew.
His eyes filled with kindness, with courage, with the promise of hope.

Her lips quivered into a faint smile.
Her fingers twitched, as if reaching for him.

And then she was gone.

NullSamus lowered her hand, gently releasing Zelda's lifeless form.

But the princess did not fall.

Her feet touched the stone floor lightly, but she stood perfectly still, her hands at her sides.
Her head tilted slightly downward, her colorless eyes unblinking, staring into nothingness.

Zelda was no more.
In her place stood NullZelda—a void-forged queen of absolute darkness.

Her hair, once flowing gold, now ashen and lifeless, hung in long, silken strands.
Her dress—a blackened specter of royal finery—clung to her slender frame, the hem flickering with tendrils of darkness that flowed and coiled like living shadows.

From the entrance of the temple, shuffling footsteps echoed through the ruined halls.
The NullSages entered first, their twisted forms graceful yet monstrous—each one a perversion of the noble soul they once were.

NullLink walked forward in eerie silence, coming to stand beside NullZelda.
Without a word, he gently took her hand in his.
There was no affection in the gesture.
No warmth.
Only emptiness.

A deep rumbling shook the temple as NullGanon followed.
The hulking beast of darkness loomed over them all—his massive frame a monument to corruption, once proud but now a wretched, twisted thing.

They stood together, an unholy congregation of void.

And then, NullSamus turned her back on them, stepping toward the temple’s altar.
The corrupted sages moved into position, their hands outstretched.

NullLink. NullZelda. NullGanon.
They focused their stolen Triforces—power, wisdom, and courage now blackened beyond recognition—channeling corrupted divine energy into the temple’s ancient mechanism.

A deep, thunderous groan reverberated through the stone chamber as the gateway to the Sacred Realm was torn open.

The Sacred Realm was nothing like Hyrule.
It was a place of eternal radiance—a landscape of golden fields and infinite light.
Shimmering rivers of liquid light cut through the celestial plains, their waters glittering with divinity.
The air itself hummed with purity, untouched by darkness.

At the realm’s heart floated the complete Triforce, glowing with divine perfection—a symbol of unity and creation.

NullSamus crossed the threshold.
Her armored boots pressed into the pristine soil, leaving blackened footprints in their wake.

Wherever she walked, the darkness followed.
Golden grass wilted to ash, rivers of light dimmed and thickened into blackened sludge.
The very fabric of the Sacred Realm began to rot, succumbing to her presence.

She strode toward the Triforce, her hand outstretched.

A crack of divine energy split the air.

NullSamus froze.
Her void-filled visor tilted upward.

Where once there was nothing, there were now three towering beings of incandescent light.

Din, the Goddess of Power, blazed in fiery crimson, her form composed of living flame.
Nayru, the Goddess of Wisdom, glimmered in shimmering azure, her ethereal tears raining down in glittering rivulets.
Farore, the Goddess of Courage, swirled with viridescent winds, a storm incarnate.

Their eyes burned with fury.
Their divine power crackled and roared through the Sacred Realm, shaking the very foundation of creation itself.

Din’s fire blazed hot, her voice a molten inferno.

“Creature of nothing… You should not and cannot be here.”

Nayru’s tears flowed with divine sorrow, her voice trembling with righteous fury.

“Begone from this place.”

Farore’s winds howled, a hurricane of wrath.

“You have no power here.”

And with a single, unified gesture, they unleashed their divine might.

A trinity of godly power—the very force that had created Hyrule itself—was turned upon NullSamus.
A searing flood of divine light engulfed her in a massive conflagration, a radiance brighter than the birth of existence.

From the gateway, the Null army stood unmoving, unflinching, watching the blinding spectacle in perfect silence.

Within the searing light, NullSamus did not move.
She did not flinch.

Slowly, she lifted her head.
Her visor retracted, revealing her face.

Her eyes were pure white, featureless voids of nothingness.
And in them, the goddesses saw it.

A bottomless, infinite abyss.
A black chasm of wrath, devoid of light or limit.

And in that moment—NullSamus screamed.

The scream became a storm.

The darkness within NullSamus surged outward, no longer merely spreading—it consumed.
The Sacred Realm—once radiant and eternal—was instantly plunged into blackness.

The golden fields withered into ash, rivers of divine light curdled into ink, and the infinite skies above collapsed inward, folding into a void with no horizon.
The once sacred soil crumbled, dissolving into grains of nothingness.

The Three Goddesses—Din, Nayru, and Farore—staggered backward, their divine forms flickering and dimming as the void engulfed them.

For the first time in eternity, they screamed.

Din’s fire flickered and sputtered—her infernal blaze smothered into cinders.
Nayru’s flowing waters thickened, becoming tar-like sludge, which evaporated into nothing.
Farore’s winds howled in defiance but splintered into shards of stagnant air, scattering into oblivion.

Their brilliance dimmed.
Their forms fractured.
And then they were gone.

Swallowed whole.
Their divine voices were silenced, their existence utterly devoured—absorbed into NullSamus.

Her scream ended.
And with it came silence.

She stood in the center of the obliterated realm, her arms slowly lowering as the last fragments of the goddesses' power coursed through her.
She did not tremble.
She did not falter.

The divine power flowed through her—searing, unrelenting, infinite—and she simply let it.
Her void-forged frame absorbed it all, her form brimming with divine darkness, more potent and terrible than ever before.

She turned her eyes toward the Triforce.

The golden triangles flared, their radiance surging in one final, desperate act of resistance.
The relic of ultimate power—creation itself—pushed back against the void.

For a fleeting moment, they held.
A golden light shimmered in defiance, clinging to the last vestiges of existence.
The triangles trembled—fighting, resisting, burning.

But the darkness was absolute.

It coiled around the sacred relic, tightening like a noose.
The light fractured.
The resistance broke.

And in a single, suffocating breath—
The Triforce was swallowed.

Its sacred glow was snuffed out, the once-golden triangles blackened and twisted into corrupted shards.
Their divine essence was absorbed into NullSamus, becoming part of her void-wracked being.

And still, she did not relent.

Her darkness continued to surge outward, no longer bound by mere realms or dimensions.
It devoured the Sacred Realm—its light, its splendor, its divinity—all reduced to void.

And beyond that—
It reached further.
It pierced the veil of Hyrule itself.

The gateway to the Sacred Realm crumbled.
Through the portal, the NullArmy stood motionless in eerie silence.

They did not flee.
They did not weep.
They simply stared into the abyss.

And without a sound, they faded.

One by one, the NullSages, the NullKnights, and the corrupted heroes dissolved, their forms melting into the void, becoming one with NullSamus’ essence.
Her army of darkness was now safe within her—a legion of shadows, waiting to be summoned once again.

The world began to break.

The mountains crumbled, reduced to drifting clouds of dust.
The sun flared violently—a final, dying gasp of radiance—before collapsing into itself, leaving nothing but an empty black sky.

The rivers and lakes of Hyrule froze solid—glittering with crystalline beauty for a mere heartbeat—
Then they shattered into countless fragments, dissolving into the void.

Time itself fractured.
Days and nights flickered like dying embers, stuttering in and out of existence—
Before vanishing entirely.

The very fabric of reality began to unravel.
The skies splintered open, revealing a void where no stars remained.
The planes of existence collapsed, disintegrating into ribbons of nothingness.

Hyrule was no more.
Its people, its lands, its myths—all reduced to a fleeting memory that would never be remembered.

There was no rebirth.
No cycle to begin anew.
There was only the void.

And then—
All life blinked out.

The last souls—those not claimed by NullSamus—ceased to be.
They did not pass into an afterlife.
They did not linger as echoes.
They simply vanished, their very essence snuffed from existence.

There was nothing left.
No legends.
No songs.
No history.
No memory.

The cycle was over.

And in the center of the void stood NullSamus.

She drifted weightlessly in the infinite black, surrounded by nothing.
No light.
No sound.
No resistance.

Her entire army lay within her—dormant and waiting—shadows at her command.

She slowly raised her arm, her clawed gauntlet glimmering faintly with absorbed divine energy.

A pulse of blackened light surged from her fingertips, and the void split open before her.
A fissure of pure darkness tore through the empty expanse, revealing something beyond.

Through the tear, she saw it—
A new world.
A new reality.
A place untouched by her darkness.

She strode toward it, her footsteps silent, yet leaving ripples of oblivion in her wake.
And with a slow, deliberate motion—she passed through the rift.

The void snapped shut behind her.

There was no trace of the world she had destroyed.
No remnants.
No ruins.
No echoes.

Only the infinite black.
Empty.
Silent.
Gone.

NullSamus stood on the other side, her eyes gleaming with pale, hollow light.
She gazed upon the new reality with the same blank, expressionless stare.

Her hand flexed faintly.
The shadows stirred within her, coiling and slithering—ready once more.

She took a single step forward.

And then another.

And another.

It was time to move on.
_________________________________________________________________________________________

This is the end of this arc. Sorry it took so long but I really wanted to try and get this arc ended in a good way. Hopefully its good enough for what it is and I hope you guys enjoy it.

I gotta now figure out what world NullSamus will go to next. Regardless thanks for reading