For all its strange progress, Paradoxon remained what it had always been—a world fundamentally unstable, shaped by contradictions and Chaos. Its soil trembled with probability. Its air shimmered with possibility. The Tree tried to go agaist Paradoxon's nature. It tried to form stable ecosystem which is against very nature of Paradoxon.
As if Paradoxon itself was angry, something else was born:
A virus.
It had no name, no form in the beginning—just a logic-defying anomaly, a ripple in the rules.
It didn't infect cells.
It infected concepts.
---
[The Conceptual Virus: "Mutacode"]
The virus emerged near the roots of the Tree, where Chaos, divine faith, and the new Transcendent Order energy had mixed. It latched onto creatures, objects, even thoughts—and began rewriting them.
> A beast that once had fur and claws now sang in harmonics that bent metal.
A Rootborn child lost in a dream awoke with six hearts and eyes that could see probabilities.
Stone itself grew veins and bled color when cut.
The mutation was not merely physical—it was metaphysical.
Whole species transformed overnight.
Languages split into dialects that rewrote grammar as they were spoken.
Ideas—like "death," "gravity," and "shape"—became unstable in infected zones.
---
[System Emergency Scan: Entry #0091]
> "Error: Mutation factor exceeds calculated entropy bounds."
"Observation: Viral anomaly 'Mutacode' detected."
"Effect: Accelerated adaptive evolution. Contagious through all possible methods"
---
[The Tree Reacts]
The Tree, sentient and divine-inclined, noticed the changes. Some of its leaves blackened, others turned into eyes that watched the land nervously. It absorbed infected entities through its roots and burned them from within using concentrated Transcendent Order—selective purging.
But it couldn't stop the virus.
Because the virus had now begun to affect belief itself.
Some Rootborn began worshipping new, mutated concepts. They birthed their own gods of distortion—shadows in form, ideas in practice. Fragmentary deities that appeared, twisted reality slightly, then vanished, leaving only changed laws behind.
---
[System Reflection – Internal Thought]
> "I should have known. Faith. Chaos. Divine catalysts. In a world like this, the unexpected isn't rare—it's inevitable.
But this isn't just instability.
It's an adaptive force. It's not just destroying—it's building something new.
I can't tell if I've created a miracle… or a mistake so large it thinks."
----
Keshav POV
Before him floated the holographic projection of the Creation Website, where countless worlds shimmered—each tagged with resource tiers, elemental affinities, threat levels, and estimated world fragment yield.
With the success of the previous war and the world fragment's miraculous expansion, Keshav had grown bolder. He now viewed the multiverse like a chessboard—and he was ready to seize more pieces.
"Three worlds in one week," he muttered to himself, fingers flicking across the Terminal. "No mercy. No diplomacy. Just clean invasion."
He exchanged 100 EP for 100,000 units of faith, then sold it on the Creation Website. The points he gained were instantly funneled into unlocking invasion routes, reconnaissance scans, and special teleportation permissions.
Moments later, glowing portals appeared across his throne room.
The first target was a mana-saturated jungle world populated by ancient spirit-beasts and guardian druids. His elite humanoid legions, clad in blackened armor that shimmered with spatial distortions, emerged through the rift. Space-folding strikes and teleportation-based ambushes shattered the defensive lines of the druidic circles. By the time the central tree-temple burned, the defenders were fleeing through collapsing ley lines.
Keshav extracted the world core after disabling the guardian spirit. A new fragment was harvested.
The second world was a lava-flooded realm ruled by fire giants and salamander kings. The Ember Vanguard, a specialized squad within Keshav's army who had assimilated elemental fire techniques, took point. Warping through molten rivers, they disrupted tectonic convergence zones and detonated volcanic hearts. The world resisted furiously—but its rulers, proud and towering, fell one by one under spatial compression fields.
Another core seized. Another fragment prepared.
The third world was trickier. It was a sentient world—its World Will more active and cunning than most. It raised illusions and mental traps, drawing Keshav's forces into psychological ambushes. But he had been prepared. A new battalion trained in thought-space warfare led the charge, disrupting illusions with concentrated belief energy refined through Keshav's divine name. After a brutal skirmish, the Will shattered, and the world's core was stripped.
Three cores. Three more fragments.
He returned to his own world. The air shimmered as he opened his Terminal and saturated each fragment with bought faith. The moment the first fragment embedded into his World Core, chaotic rumbling echoed across the void—his world grew again.
The second fragment expanded a new continent, rich in essence wells.
The third gave birth to floating islands, where ambient mana reached divine density.
Keshav stood tall, a silent shadow looming behind his back—the System. It said nothing. Watched everything.
And behind the glow of his eyes, Keshav's ambition deepened. He looked back at the portal map. More worlds flickered with potential.
"Three down... too many left to count."