The Masked Virtuoso-Chapter 165: The Dawn of a New Era

The Void After the Storm

The multiverse, once in a state of constant motion and instability, now fell silent. Every reality that had been torn, rewritten, or erased in the battle between Ethan and the god was still—so still that it felt unnatural. The great void that once trembled beneath the god’s presence was now empty, hollow, awaiting its next sovereign.

Ethan stood in that silence. Alone.

His cloak fluttered in a wind that didn’t exist. His eyes, golden with the radiance of infinite knowledge, gazed into the formless cosmos. There was no chaos. No life. Not even death. Everything was in limbo.

"...So this is what remains," Ethan muttered. "Every story... every soul... every timeline... in my hand."

He slowly raised his right hand, and as he did, fragmented memories, realities, and cosmic echoes swirled around him. With but a thought, he could kill or revive anyone, rewrite destiny, or erase entire ages. He had become the being beyond everything... and above everything.

And yet... he was alone.

Particles throughout existence vibrated in agony, lost without a god to anchor them. Every atom screamed. Time cried out for order. Space trembled under its own weight.

"I know, I know," Ethan whispered. "You need a ruler... a new god."

He turned, and there it was—The Throne of Existence. A massive seat carved from the bones of forgotten realities, forged in the flames of creation and etched with the essence of every concept ever imagined. It had waited patiently for eons, even when the previous god had lost his way.

Ethan walked toward it. As he sat down, a tremor pulsed through existence itself.

Crack.

The throne cracked beneath him.

Ethan blinked. "Oh? You need an upgrade."

With a smirk, he snapped his fingers. The throne shifted—metal twisting into light, stone melting into concept. It transformed into a shape unlike anything that had ever existed—alive, divine, and perfect.

Then it spoke.

"I like this upgrade," it said.

Ethan froze. "What the fu— I mean, what the... You can speak?"

"Yes, of course. I am the God Throne. I’ve seen you, Ethan. Seen how you rose. How you surpassed godhood. How you became... the Absolute Being. It was your potential all along, to defeat the god and remake all things."

"Okay," Ethan muttered, leaning back. "Thanks... So, do you have a name?"

"Yes. I am Zytherion Omnivarch, the Throne of God... Sorry. I mean, your throne now, my lord."

Ethan chuckled. "Zytherion, huh? Fancy. So... what else do you do besides talking?"

"I protect you. If anyone even thinks about harming you, I kill them instantly using my instant death ability."

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "I can do that too. Ever since Chapter 79."

"Mine is automatic, my lord."

"...Mine is also automatic."

Zytherion hesitated. "I... also let you sit on me."

"So you’re basically useless," Ethan said flatly.

"Yes, my lord. I am not worthy of you."

Ethan laughed, but then asked, "Wait. Why didn’t you kill me when I thought of killing the previous god?"

"I tried. But it didn’t work. You control life, death, and even my existence."

"...Huh," Ethan whispered, eyes narrowing. "I really am beyond all of it now."

---

All That Was Lost

The silence of omnipotence didn’t echo—it pressed in like a heavy blanket. Ethan sat on Zytherion, staring out into what remained.

Nothing.

His friends. Gone.

His family. Gone.

He remembered how God erased.

Every timeline, universe, and dimension had been consumed when the god—desperate and enraged—destroyed every reality and timeline, trying to crush Ethan beneath oblivion. Ethan had stood, defiant, while the god erased everything Ethan held dear.

In that moment, the god had spoken his final words:

> "Your friends and family are gone. Your story ends alone."

Ethan had watched it happen—Mia, Nefera, Orion, Selene—all fading into nothingness. Even time couldn’t hold them. They’d been wiped from all possibility. But Ethan hadn’t mourned.

Instead, he had whispered:

> "You really don’t understand, do you?

The world doesn’t need you anymore...

Because I’m taking your place."

And now in present...here he sat.

All power. No pain. No gods. No chains.

He stared into the void, the infinite blank canvas of reality. One thought... one flicker of will... and he could restore it all.

But should he?

---

A New Reality

"I won’t restore the past," Ethan said quietly. "That world was corrupted... broken since the first moment the Obsidian Shard appeared."

He raised his hand.

Reality bent.

With divine precision, Ethan rewrote the multiverse—not as a replica of what was lost, but as a better world. One free of the god’s influence. One where hope never had to be stolen.

A new Earth bloomed beneath his thoughts.

Isolde, alive, studying at college with her parents safe and beside her.

Nefera, reunited with the family she never got to grow up with, laughing with friends under the sun.

The Council never formed. No one was taken. No one died for using artifacts.

Mia, now with her father, running a small bakery in a peaceful city.

Ethan’s parents, smiling with a young boy in their arms—a son Ethan created for them, a perfect child named Kael, built from memories of his old friend.

Orion, working in a prestigious lab, still getting all his gadget ideas rejected... by none other than Alexander, Ethan’s first rival—now repurposed as Orion’s strict but fair superior.

In the far past, Kael—with his new name and life—married the princess he once protected. Their wedding echoed through time, untouched by tragedy.

Ethan watched from beyond, unseen.

---

The Writer of Stories

From his throne outside of all existence, Ethan stared into the multiverse he’d rewritten. Lush timelines wove together like golden threads. There were no rifts. No despair. No corrupted gods.

Just people—living, laughing, dreaming.

And yet...

He was still alone.

Zytherion noticed. "You created everything they could want. But you remain apart."

"I have to," Ethan replied. "If I step into that world again, I unbalance it. I became more than a god... I became the story’s end."

He stood, lifting a hand toward the thriving new reality. No one could see him. No one could hear him. But they lived because of him.

Ethan smiled.

"I’m no longer just a piece on the board..." he whispered.

"Now, I write the story."

---

TO BE CONTINUED...