Chapter 2:

A Madman

A Multiversal Biography

The god looks through space and time, to see a sea full of mystical beasts and magic men in shining, silver armour. In the depths of its heart of stone: a man trapped in a steel-barred cell, gnawing at it with their cracked and dented teeth. They scrape the walls with their uncut claws and scream the name of their God. Yet, looking down on that world: another set of gods are found. They chat their endless chat. Laughing until each universe meets their end; feeding themselves to whatever amusement they can find.

"My neighbour, who shall we give our holy eyes to next?"

"Perhaps the sailor?"

"How about the wizard?"

"The glimmering soldier of rock?"

"The grandson?"

"Perhaps someone else?"


"The man hidden amongst the travelers."

"That man, eh?"

"I'm not sure, it is yet to be set in stone. We shall find out who would be suitable on the day it comes."

"The red eyes of truth need to be given to someone else soon, otherwise that madman'll waste up in that rotting cell."

"And what of the two M's?"

"Does not matter. That world is doomed."

"Are you sure? You were the one to give that man the gift twice in his lifetime."

"It was a mistake, I had too much trust in them."

"So you do not now?"

"Not now no."

"What of the other realms?"


"I suppose we shall see what lies beyond the path from here. What about you Galactis?"

"Yeah, what do you think?"


"Never likes this stuff do they?"

"What else kind of fun could they have?"

"Not like we have much to do for eternity really do we? I guess it makes no difference to them."

"I wonder what the author thinks of this."

"Breaking the 4th wall again, now are we?

"We have no contact with the 4th wall. We are simply beyond the 5th wall."

"The first gods of that world once created an extra wall in their reality, did they not?"

"Indeed they did, what is stopping us from doing the same?"

"They are all but a couple lesser gods too."

"True they are. And they barely even count as even one of those either."

"And the other one too, the sorcerous, they may try to break their mould, yet they cannot fit in a bigger one than what they already have."

"The two M's are saying their prayers again."

"They seem to think it pleases us."

"I suppose the madness of our truth is getting to them."

"Perhaps. Although, humanity is not a native language to us. I doubt we would understand their way of thinking."


"The author seems to manage it."

"They aren't a god though. They're a human in our plane of existence."

"A creator?"

"A writer."