Infinity -life of a brain

The tension in the air grew heavier, like an invisible weight pressing down on the thousands of Summoners who stood in the stadium. The mysterious man—Saturn—locked his gaze on Astaroth. His voice was calm, almost mocking, yet beneath it lay an unfathomable strength.

Saturn: "You’ve always sought mastery over every summoning technique, Astaroth. You’ve learned them all—or so you believe. But there’s one you could never grasp... mine. The technique of summoning 'Saturn.'

Astaroth’s eyes narrowed, his mind racing. He had spent eons mastering every known summoning, from entities that controlled stars to weapons that could collapse dimensions. Yet, the one he had never managed to understand stood before him, taunting him.

Saturn (coldly): "And now, with all the greatest Summoners of the universe gathered, I will demonstrate for you the one technique you could never learn. Watch closely. Maybe you’ll finally understand, or maybe you’ll see how far below me you truly are.

"Saturn raised his hand slowly, as if time itself obeyed his will. In an instant, the air around him twisted, a crackling energy forming a dense, spherical shape—small, no larger than a basketball. But the weight of it... the pressure... every Summoner in the arena could feel the distortion it caused. It was as though reality itself bent around the sphere. Rings of pure energy, like the rings of a planet, began to orbit the core. The sheer density of the energy warped space, curving light, sound—everything. It was the physical manifestation of incomprehensible power.

Saturn (quietly): "This... is Saturn."

The elite Summoners stared in disbelief. This wasn’t like any summoning they had ever seen. Summoning brought forth entities, beings, objects from other dimensions, but this... this was something entirely different. One Summoner, trying to steady himself, whispered in awe:

Random Summoner: "What... what is that thing?"

A ripple of confusion spread through the assembly. They had faced gods, they had commanded titans, but this felt different. Alien. Beyond their comprehension. The mighty Summoners, who once thought they were untouchable, stood frozen in the face of Saturn’s power.

Another Summoner (nervously): "He didn’t just summon it... he... he made it.

"Astaroth’s heart raced. His mind struggled to grasp what he was seeing. Summoners don’t create; they call forth, they summon. This was impossible. Yet here it was, defying every law of their existence. He spoke, his voice no longer commanding, but edged with disbelief.

Astaroth: "You didn’t summon it... you... you created it."

"The stadium fell into a stunned silence. Creation. A concept thought impossible even for the most powerful of Summoners. Summoning tapped into the infinite entities and powers of the universe, but creating matter and energy from nothing? That was beyond even their understanding. Yet, Saturn stood before them, having done just that.

Saturn (with a slight smile): "That’s right. While you spent your lives mastering summoning, I learned something beyond it. I am not bound by the laws that govern summoners like you. I don’t need to call forth power—I can make it. And this..." —he gestured to the swirling sphere of immense density— "is what you will never understand. I am not a Summoner, Astaroth. I am a creator."

The crowd of Summoners, beings capable of annihilating entire galaxies with a thought, found themselves at a loss for words. Saturn’s summoning—no, his creation—radiated an energy that seemed to tear at the very fabric of space. It wasn’t just powerful; it was fundamentally different from anything they had ever encountered.

Astaroth (gritting his teeth): "Creation... That’s impossible. Even for you."

*Saturn’s eyes burned with a quiet intensity.*

Saturn: "Impossible? Only to those limited by the laws they cling to. You’ve spent your existence believing you were at the pinnacle of power. But what you’ve never realized, Astaroth, is that summoning only grants borrowed strength. I have no need for borrowed strength. I create my own.

"As the dense, glowing sphere floated ominously in front of him, the rings of energy expanded, warping everything they touched. Time and space themselves seemed to bow to Saturn’s will, bending in response to the power he had forged.

The other Summoners began to murmur among themselves, some taking steps back as though the very act of witnessing this technique could break them.

Random Elite Summoner (whispering): "This can’t be real... Is he a god? How does he do this?"

Saturn gave no answer. His gaze remained fixed on Astaroth, unblinking, relentless.

Saturn: "You’ve always wanted to learn my technique. So go ahead, Astaroth—watch carefully. Perhaps, in your final moments, you’ll understand why you were never worthy to learn it."

(With a cold smile Saturn released his summoning "saturn")

The aftermath of Saturn’s destruction hung heavy in the air, a suffocating weight pressing down on the smoldering ruins of the Summoner's capital. What was once a gathering of the most powerful beings in the universe had been reduced to ashes, a graveyard of forgotten power and futile ambition. Saturn's summoning—his “Saturn”—had left no room for resistance, no margin for survival. The world had been flattened by the incomprehensible force he had unleashed, leaving no more than 80 to witness the aftermath.

Far from the devastation, three figures stood at the edge of the battlefield—unmoved, untouched. They watched the desolation below in silence, their divine presence undisturbed by the chaos that swallowed the realm.

The first figure, his eyes glowing like burning embers in the dark, rested his hand on the hilt of his sword. His voice came as a cold whisper, “So much for the greatest assembly of Summoners in the universe,” he murmured, the disdain barely hidden beneath the surface. “They never stood a chance. In the end, they were nothing.” His gaze lingered on the broken bodies below, the slightest hint of contempt in his eyes.

The second figure, cloaked in shadow, cast a sideways glance at the woman with dark, fathomless eyes standing beside her. Her voice was low and sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade through air. “He hasn’t lost his edge.” There was a cold, unsettling calm in her words. “As brutal as ever.”

The woman with dark eyes stood unmoved, her gaze sweeping over the devastation, the embers reflecting in her cold, commanding stare. Her voice was tempered steel, a mixture of incredulity and sharpness. “He’s wasting his time.” There was a faint scoff in her tone, laced with disdain. “This... destruction. It’s beneath him.” Her eyes narrowed, fixed on the spot where Saturn had stood moments before. “Why bother with these insects? He could have wiped them out without lifting a finger.”

The woman with golden eyes remained silent, her gaze still locked on the battlefield, piercing through the haze of smoke and death. She knew him Knew his purpose. Knew his power. But this... this was out of character. The display of overwhelming force was unnecessary—overkill, even. The Summoners were nothing more than specks of dust to him, irrelevant to his true aims. And yet, he had obliterated them without hesitation.

Her voice, when she finally spoke, was cold as the void, distant and calculating. “This isn’t about them.” She shifted her gaze from the ruins to the horizon, where Saturn’s presence had vanished. “He doesn’t do things without reason. There’s more at play here than we see.”

The figure with the sword, his celestial eyes still burning with restrained power, frowned slightly. “Then what is it? If this isn’t his aim, what is?” There was a quiet frustration beneath his words, a deep-seated desire to understand the situation they were dealing with.

The woman with golden eyes scoffed again, her voice growing harsher. “Whatever it is, he’s dragging it out. I’m not one to sit and watch him tear through worlds on a whim.” Her tone was edged with impatience, but also something darker—a hint of fear.

The dark-eyed woman turned slightly, her gaze still fixed on the horizon. Her words came in a near whisper, colder than the stars themselves. “No... this is calculated. He’s showing us something. But it’s not for our benefit.”

The golden-eyed woman’s gaze sharpened. “Then what are we waiting for? He’s already made his move—now we make ours.”

The dark-eyed woman’s expression hardened, her words weighted with quiet finality. “No. Not yet. There’s someone else we need first.” She turned, finally breaking her stare from the ruins, and began walking away from the devastation.

The figure with the sword frowned, his voice heavy with suspicion. “Astaroth? He’s dead. His aura was vanished

—”“No.” The woman with dark eyes cut him off, “He’s alive. I made sure of it.”

A moment of silence passed between them, the weight of her admission settling like a shroud.

The golden-eyed woman’s voice, held a sharp edge of surprise. “You saved him? Why?”

The dark-eyed woman turned to face them fully, her expression unreadable, her words colder than before. “Because Saturn’s not finished with him yet. And neither are we.”

*The three figures stood silent, the gravity of the situation sinking in. Whatever Saturn had planned, it wasn’t over. And they knew better than anyone—when Saturn moved, the universe trembled.*