Primordial Dragon: Traveling the Omniverse

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The moment the Primordial Dragon stirred, the cosmic equilibrium across infinite realities trembled—not from violence, but from restoration.

A heartbeat echoed not through sound, but through the laws that bind all things.

Timelines stabilized. Lost fragments of reality slotted back into place. Multiversal code, riddled with parasites, viruses, and eldritch errors, began to heal—as if the system of Creation itself had rebooted.

And across the omniverse, the architects, the overseers, and the monsters all felt it.

He didn't return. He was simply… remembered by Reality.

And in that remembering, all else began to reassemble.

In the Depths of Marvel's Elder Pantheon

Before Odin's line. Before the Celestials shaped stars. Before even entropy had a name—there were the Elder Gods of Earth.

In his cryptic sanctum, Chthon felt the resonance tear through his dark magic. Sigils cracked. Blood magic stuttered.

"No... this power—this presence—I've never felt anything like it…" he whispered.

It burned, not with fire, but with cosmic equilibrium—as if the chaos that empowered him was being corrected.

In the dimensional dark, Shuma-Gorath screeched, its countless eyes blinking in disorientation and terror. Its existence—based in consumption and decay—felt suddenly… invalid.

In long-forgotten temples, Set, the Serpent God, lashed at his worshippers as divine instinct screamed to retreat.

And in the deepest part of Earth's soul, Gaea, ageless and vast, whispered through wind and stone:

"The Old One walks again… not of chaos, to restore the balance."

She did not know his name.

None of them did.

But they knew the multiverse was changing.

In the Sea of Quanta – Honkai Realms

Amid collapsing dimensions and recursive cataclysms, the Will of the Honkai—a being beyond logic—paused.

Its endless commands to destroy and remake were suspended.

The Herrschers—avatars of annihilation—looked to the heavens and fell silent.

Entropy was being replaced. Not by order imposed, but by something deeper, something primal.

Something that existed before the laws they now served.

A correction.

In the DC Multiverse – From the Source Wall to the Overvoid

In the far reaches of DC's layered cosmology, from the Monitors to the New Gods, even beyond the Source Wall, there was a pause.

A tremor in the Bleed.

The Presence—the supreme creative force—remained silent… but aware.

He alone knew what the others only felt.

In the halls of Dream, Morpheus looked up from his gallery of realms, the Endless pausing their eternal cycles.

"Something is fixing the Dreaming... timelines long broken are… flowing again."

The Spectre, the embodiment of divine vengeance, clutched his robe as the wrath within him cooled—not from peace, but from judgment already passed.

In the Multiversal Archives, Metron dropped his data pad, stunned. "Even the Mobius Chair cannot trace it... but the glitches are gone. Realities once consumed by paradox… are returning."

And from the darkness of forgotten sectors, Darkseid stared out over Apokolips.

He did not know the being's name. But he hated it.

For it brought balance, and his Anti-Life Equation depended on imbalance.

Somewhere deep in the Overvoid, a whisper echoed—not from the gods of now, but from the ashes of the First Born:

"The One Who Sacrificed… has awakened."

Across the Multiversal Core – The Keepers of Reality Stir

In both Marvel and DC, there are entities not worshipped, but depended on.

Cosmic regulators. Systems personified.

And they, too, felt it.

The Living Tribunal, in Marvel's vast upper tiers, lifted his heads—Judgment, Vengeance, and Equity flickering.

"The errors… are being removed."

Even Eternity, the embodiment of Marvel's universe, shivered as the threads binding all that is were rewoven.

In DC, the Monitor Sphere stabilized. Data corruption in collapsed timelines corrected themselves. Mandrakk's influence was pushed back without warning.

They did not know the identity of the being.

But they knew this:

Order had returned. Not by force. Not by decree. But by its true source awakening.

In the SCP Multiverse – Reaction of Containment

Reality, already fragile in the world of SCP, buckled—and then healed.

The Scarlet King, ancient defiler of universes, screamed. His dominion cracked. His influence stuttered.

"It cannot be! The strings… the bindings… they are restoring! I AM THE END! THIS IS—"

Silence.

Because the systems containing him had stabilized.

Foundation personnel, unaware of what truly happened, found anomaly breaches… closed.

SCP-001 entries updated themselves.

Containment protocols aligned.

Order—not imposed by the Foundation, but by Creation itself—had quietly resumed.

Outer Beings and Eldritch Things – The Abomination's Howl

Where Order rejoices, Abominations of Existence howl.

The Void Lords, beyond even thought, convulsed in alien agony. Their dimensions began to reject them—as if they were now glitches in a healed code.

The Anti-Spiral, master of despair and entropy, recalculated infinite defeat. Something ancient and untraceable had shifted the baseline logic of reality.

In the Far Realm, in depths where mortals go mad just by perceiving, the Eldritch Ones contorted.

This was not power.

This was correction.

And for beings born of error, that was the greatest threat.

In the Eyes of Those Once Forgotten

The gods of extinct cultures, the souls of forgotten worlds, the ancient protectors swallowed by time—

All paused.

Timelines once erased flickered in their dying embers.

They felt their names return to the cosmic ledger.

And they whispered, one by one:

"He lives…"

The Presence That Predates

Kaelthar's awakening was not a storm.

It was a sunrise after eternal darkness.

A presence older than light, more constant than death, and truer than belief.

The Primordial Dragon of Order did not roar.

He did not demand worship.

He simply was.

And in being, everything else began to heal.

Systems repaired.

Lost ages restored.

The parasites of corruption scorched from reality's skin.

And those who keep creation afloat, be they Tribunal or Monitor, rejoiced—for the first time, without knowing why.

Only the Presence… and perhaps a few survivors of the Ancient War, buried before even time, remember the name:

Kaelthar.

The one who came before gods.

The one who fell so others could rise.

The one who has now… awakened.

And The of the....First born.

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