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It was a strange, almost amusing thing that they were preparing for the “final battle.” After all, no one should even know he existed. No one. And that was how it should be. The King of the Dimensions was meant to be a symbol—nothing more. It was a title that belonged only to the one who conquered the Core, and he was the only one to ever ascend to that throne. No one else had even come close to it.
“Then how… how do they know about me?” mused the King of Dimensions.
Well, there was one being who knew of his existence. The very being that had shaped the myths of the Core: Ouroboros.
Was it Ouroboros who told them? Had Ouroboros revealed his existence to these creatures? No, if Ouroboros had been the sort to do that, it would’ve rejected the Encroachment entirely from the start. There was no reason for it to suddenly rally a bunch of lowly lifeforms now.
Also, Ouroboros knew that none of it mattered. If he, the King of the Dimensions, so much as wished it, he could wipe out the entire Core in an instant with minimal effort.
The King of the Dimensions raised a hand to the air...
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