Supreme Emptiness Novels & Stories

Faces rose behind my eyes. Those who hadn’t made it out of the clearing. Warriors who’d taken blows meant for me. People whose names I’d only just learned, whose lives had been clipped at the edge of my story. Joy, at being alive and free, tangled with that guilt until it was hard to separate one from the other. A third feeling slid in under both. Emptiness. Not the bad kind. Just… absence. A space where constant crisis had lived, now suddenly vacant. “What does a girl who’s only ever fought,” I whispered to the empty room, “do when there’s nothing left to fight?”

she asked eagerly. "No, he isn't. And that is never possible." Grandpa Winks shut the doors to her speculative mind with his reply. He went on to say, "The Supreme Being, or the one referred to by all who have any knowledge of this character, as the Supreme, isn't really fixed to a race. Once every million years, a child is born with talent and latent power that put him/her at the top of the universal food chain. We don't know how this happens, but every time the universe was in dire need of saving, a Supreme was born. They are seen as the universe's own means of fighting back. The birth of a Supreme is both good and bad. For eternals, our talent depends on the Supremes. When a Supreme is bo

“You slept for seven hours. You haven’t done that since we first met. Are you well?” “I’m… intact,” I admitted, stretching cautiously. “The fear is gone. It's been replaced by a strange, quiet emptiness. The kind you get when you finally stop running.” That’s it. Emptiness. For thirty years, my life was packed so full of expectation and responsibility that there was no room to breathe. Now, there’s this vast, echoing space where the Hayes future used to be. And it’s not terrifying; it’s inviting. It’s an empty plot of land just waiting for the first seed. This is what Igor bought for me with his public sacrifice—this perfect, still moment.

When the property manager calls me, I'm in the middle of picking out the curtains for my new home while sitting behind my desk. "Ms. Grant, the moving truck hired by your partner is stuck in the underground garage of the apartment. Do you need help dealing with this incident?" My hand, which is clutching the mouse, freezes at that moment. I haven't even received my keys to my new place. How can I possibly be moving my things there now? "But Matthew showed up with the permission slip that you signed and claimed the keys. Right now, he's carrying the bed into the master suite. "He told me that you've given him permission to let your relative, Ms. Rosalie Sullivan, and her child move into

baby Hope said enthusiastically. "But should you? Should every empty moment be filled? Should every boring time become exciting? Should every quiet space become loud?" Echo's presence was gentle. Patient. "Emptiness teaches. Boredom creates. Quiet allows thinking. If you fill every empty moment, you never learn to be comfortable with nothing. Never learn to exist without constant stimulation. Never learn that peace is valuable. That quiet is necessary. That emptiness is part of life. That not every moment needs to be something. That nothing is sometimes exactly what you need." Baby Hope was confused. "Nothing is good?"

Each one containing stolen memories. “This is sick,” Maya said, reaching toward a book. “These are people’s lives. Their experiences. Their identities.” “Don’t touch them,” a voice said from the shadows. “They’re quite fragile. Touching them could shatter the memories permanently.” A figure emerged. Humanoid but wrong. Face constantly shifting between different people. Body flickering between forms. As if unable to settle on a single identity. “Who are you?” Celeste demanded. “I am everyone. I am no one. I am Emptiness, and I am collecting what should never have been shared.” The figure gestured to the library. “Memories of cooperation. Of trust. Of building together. All poisonous lies that

Ethan instinctively moved to stop her. Then he froze. He remembered the girl. He remembered the perfect world. He remembered the cage. Slowly, Ethan lowered his hand. Go ahead. The baby's fingers touched the handprint. The door opened. Beyond it was not darkness. It was not another reality. It was not the past. It was not the future. It was a blank world. No people. No buildings. No stars. No history. Nothing. A completely empty reality waiting to become something. Ethan stared.

"CATEGORY ZERO APPLIES ONLY TO THE FOUNDATIONAL SUBSTRATE." "I am the foundational silence. Without me, the choir is just noise." The Auditor paused. Its spectacles cycled through seventeen calculation modes. "CATEGORY ZERO-POINT-FIVE. DESIGNATION: FOUNDATIONAL INTERVAL. CLASSIFICATION: ESSENTIAL BUT EASILY OVERLOOKED." "Story of my life," the Hollowsmith murmured. The compass settled into true north with the absolute, final, complete warmth of a device that had found the last piece of a puzzle it had been solving since the moment of its creation.

Nova felt cold. Not physically. Existentially. This wasn't an empty room. This wasn't a dark space. This was the absence of everything. The Void's voice echoed softly. "This was all there was." Silence followed. Endless silence. Nova looked around. Nothing existed. Nothing had ever existed. No stars. No worlds. No life. No possibilities. Only emptiness. Then a tiny light appeared. Far away. Small. Fragile. Origin. The memory-Origin drifted through the endless void.

The man answered, “Next, I need you to purify Zymurgy. I understand you have no desire for the Supreme Path and care deeply for the Greater Realms. You thrive on freedom and can’t be restrained.” “The Supreme Path will be bestowed with the great responsibility. But first, his resolve must be toughened, his muscles and bones tired and his body starved. Ultimately, he will have to be emptied and depleted.” “I won’t talk to you about fate, nor will I discuss the grand principles of saving the Greater Realms and the myriad of living beings. However, the dissatisfaction and indignation you feel towards the current laws and patterns, why should it be suppressed by feelings and attachments?”