Absolute Being: I Am Nothing Chapter 78

"Always safe."

The voice came from the shadows near the city wall. Three figures emerged—Merlin in the lead, Elizabeth a step behind him but visibly restrained, her movements stiff and unnatural. Morgana brought up the rear, her expression caught somewhere between awe and terror at the beings she now faced.

Elizabeth’s eyes found Rebecca instantly. "Rebecca!"

She tried to run forward, to close the distance between them, but her body refused to obey. Her legs locked in place. Her arms hung useless at her sides. She could move her head, could speak, but nothing else responded.

Alex’s eyes narrowed. He studied the young man who held Elizabeth immobile with what appeared to be no effort at all. A muscle twitched in his jaw.

"Why can’t she move?" Alex’s voice was quiet. Dangerously quiet.

Adam glanced at his brother. He’d seen that look before. Alex, the embodiment of Existence itself, the foundation of all reality, was angry. Not annoyed. Not impatient. Angry. That was rare. That was worth paying attention to.

Merlin met Alex’s gaze without flinching. "Like I told her, she stays with me until I get what I want from her friends." He gestured vaguely at the three of them. "And I’m assuming you’re those friends."

Rebecca stepped forward, her scythe materializing in her hand. The blade gleamed with that same black light, the same promise of finality. "Look, kid. I don’t know what kind of drugs they grow in this world, but I’m going to give you some advice. You cannot stand against us. You do not want to stand against us. Let Elizabeth go. Right now. I’m asking nicely."

"I’m not a kid," Merlin said. He paused, considering his own words. "Well. Technically I am a kid. Physically, anyway. Mentally? I might be older than you. Nobody really knows how these things work."

Morgana, standing behind him, closed her eyes briefly. She had known this conversation would be confusing. She had not been prepared for this level of casual cosmic absurdity.

Elizabeth leaned slightly toward Morgana without moving her feet. "If you want to keep any grip on your sanity, shut your ears and don’t try to understand anything they say. Trust me."

Morgana nodded mutely.

Rebecca’s grip tightened on her scythe. "I don’t care if you’re a kid or a grandfather or the reincarnation of the first amoeba. I’m going to call you kid because you’re acting like one. Now let her go."

"Too much talking." Adam stepped forward, rolling his shoulders like a man preparing for a light workout. "Let me deal with this."

He walked toward Merlin, hands still in his pockets, expression relaxed. "Alright, junior. You’ve got maybe three seconds to release our friend before I—"

Merlin moved.

Not toward Adam. Not away. His hand came up, and a bolt of pure white energy lanced from his palm directly at Adam’s chest. Fast. Too fast for any normal being to dodge. Too concentrated to block.

The energy bolt stopped an inch from Adam’s skin.

It hung there, crackling and writhing, going nowhere. Adam didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Just watched the energy try and fail to reach him with mild curiosity.

Merlin’s eyebrows rose. "Infinity?"

Adam’s expression shifted. Something like recognition flickered in his eyes. "You’re from Earth."

Merlin nodded slowly. "Yeah. And if you’ve got Infinity, that’s going to be a problem. Gojo used it to win against Sukuna. Took everything the King of Curses had just to barely—"

Adam frowned. "That’s not how it happened."

Merlin stopped. "What?"

"Gojo lost." Adam’s voice was flat, certain. "He got cut in half. Sukuna won that fight. Mahoraga adapted, and then the world slash happened. Gojo died."

Merlin stared at him. The energy bolt between them flickered and died as his concentration wavered. "That’s not—that’s not right. Gojo won. He had Sukuna on the ropes. The prison realm—"

"There was no prison realm in that fight," Adam interrupted. "Just Shibuya. Just the aftermath. Gojo got sealed, then later he got unsealed, and then Sukuna killed him."

"No." Merlin shook his head. "That’s not my timeline. In my world, Gojo never got sealed. He fought Sukuna in Shinjuku and won."

The two of them stared at each other across the small space, realization dawning simultaneously.

Adam spoke first. "Parallel Earths."

Merlin nodded slowly. "Different versions. Different outcomes."

"Huh." Adam’s hands came out of his pockets for the first time. He looked at Merlin with new interest. "So you’re not just some random kid with power. You’re from another dimension entirely. Reincarnated here as a baby. Woke up as an Absolute."

"How did you—"

"Lucky guess." Adam grinned. "Also, I’ve seen this movie before. It’s a classic."

Merlin’s posture shifted. The casual arrogance faded, replaced by something more focused. "Okay. So we’re both from Earth. Different Earths. That doesn’t change what I want."

"And what’s that?" Alex asked from behind Adam.

"I want to know what I am. What I can become. And she"—Merlin gestured at Elizabeth without looking at her—"knows people like me. Absolutes. She was going to introduce me. But she was also going to leave before I got answers. So I made sure she couldn’t."

Rebecca’s scythe gleamed. "That’s not how friends work."

"She’s not my friend. She’s my ticket." Merlin’s eyes met Rebecca’s. "I’ve spent seventeen years hiding what I am. Pretending to be normal. Watching every thought, every emotion, because if I lost control even once, I could unmake everything around me. You have no idea what that’s like."

"Don’t I?" Rebecca’s voice was soft. Deadly. "I’m Death, kid. I’ve seen death before I became Death. Everyone I love died in my arms. So don’t lecture me about loneliness."

The air between them crackled with tension.

Adam held up a hand. "Okay, okay. Everyone calm down. Let’s think about this logically." He looked at Merlin. "You want answers. We have answers. You want to meet other Absolutes. We’re standing right here. So why don’t you release Elizabeth, we all go somewhere with chairs and maybe some food, and we have a nice long talk about cosmic existence?"

Merlin considered this. "That sounds reasonable."

"Great."

"But I don’t trust you."

Adam sighed. "Of course you don’t."

Merlin’s eyes flickered. The ground beneath Adam’s feet suddenly transformed—solid earth becoming liquid, trying to swallow him. Adam stepped aside casually, the ground solidifying again where he’d been standing.

"Energy and matter," Adam observed. "You’re rewriting the fundamental components of reality."

"I’m just getting started." Merlin raised both hands. The air around Adam thickened, pressurized, trying to crush him from all sides.

Adam stood in the center of the invisible pressure, utterly unaffected. "Infinity. The concept of infinite space between me and anything that tries to touch me. You can’t reach me, kid."

"Then I’ll reach around you." The ground beneath Alex and Rebecca shifted, trying to separate them, to isolate Adam from his companions.

Rebecca’s scythe swept in an arc, and the shifting ground stilled. "Death doesn’t move for matter."

Merlin gritted his teeth. He hadn’t fought anyone like this before. Hadn’t fought anyone at all, really. These beings weren’t just powerful—they were fundamental. Attacking them was like attacking the concept of gravity.

But he was fundamental too.

He stopped trying to attack them directly. Instead, he reached for the energy around them—the ambient magic of the world, the life force in the grass, the heat in the air. He gathered it, compressed it, shaped it into something new.

A sphere of absolute zero formed around Adam. Not cold—the absence of heat entirely. The concept of cold given form.

Adam’s breath misted. His skin paled slightly. Then he smiled. "Nice try. But Infinity works both ways. You can’t reach me with cold any more than you can reach me with fire."

Merlin tried something else. And something else. And something else. Each attack more creative than the last—matter transformation, energy redirection, spatial compression, temporal slowing. Adam countered each one without moving, without effort, his Infinity rendering every attack irrelevant before it could touch him.

Minutes passed. The battlefield around them became a surreal landscape of attempted attacks and nullified effects. Craters formed and reformed. The air froze and burned and stilled and raged.

Adam watched it all with growing appreciation. "You’re creative. I’ll give you that. Most new Absolutes just throw power around. You actually think."

Merlin panted slightly, not from exertion but from concentration. "Thinking isn’t helping. I can’t touch you."

"Nope."

"So what do I do?"

Adam considered the question like a teacher evaluating a student. "You can’t touch me because I’m protected by an infinite series. But infinity is a concept. And you’re the Absolute of Energy and Matter." He tilted his head. "Energy and matter are finite. They run out. They transform. They have limits. So maybe—just maybe—you’re asking the wrong question."

Merlin blinked. "What’s the right question?"

"The right question isn’t ’how do I touch him.’ The right question is ’how do I make his infinity irrelevant.’"

Merlin was quiet for a long moment. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his face. "You’re helping me. Why?"

"Because you’re interesting. Because you’re alone. Because I’ve been where you are, and it sucks." Adam shrugged. "Also, I’m bored, and this is fun."

Merlin laughed. It was a genuine sound, surprised out of him. "You’re insane."

"Probably." Adam gestured. "Now show me what you’ve got."

Merlin raised his hands again. This time, he didn’t attack Adam directly. Instead, he reached for the concept of space itself—not the space around Adam, but the space that contained Adam’s infinity. He pushed. He compressed. He wrapped the infinite within the finite, creating a paradox that couldn’t exist but did anyway.

Adam’s eyes widened. "That’s—"

The infinity wavered. Just for a moment. Just enough.

Merlin moved.

His fist connected with Adam’s cheek.

The sound was shocking in the sudden silence. Adam stumbled back half a step, his hand rising to touch his face. He stared at Merlin with something between disbelief and delight.

"You hit me."

"You told me to."

Adam’s grin threatened to split his face. "I did, didn’t I?" He looked at Alex, who was watching with an expression of long-suffering resignation. "Alex! He hit me! A new Absolute just landed a shot on me!"

Alex rubbed his temples. "I saw."

"Do you know how long it’s been since someone new landed a shot on me?"

"Too long. Congratulations. Can we get Elizabeth now?"

Adam turned back to Merlin, who was staring at his own fist in wonder. "Kid. You’ve got potential. Real potential. Now let our friend go so we can all go have that talk."

Merlin looked at Elizabeth. Looked at his fist. Looked at Adam’s grinning face.

The invisible restraints on Elizabeth vanished. She stumbled forward, caught herself, and immediately walked—with as much dignity as she could muster—toward Rebecca.

Merlin met Adam’s eyes. "We’re going to talk? Really talk? About everything?"

"Swear it." Adam held up three fingers in a mock scout’s salute. "Cross my heart and hope to... well, you know. Die. Which I can’t. But you get the idea."

Merlin nodded slowly. "Okay. I’ll trust you. For now."

"Good. Now let’s go find some food. Fighting makes me hungry." Adam turned and started walking toward the city, completely at ease.

Alex fell into step beside him. "You let him hit you."

"He earned it."

"He’s going to be trouble."

"Probably." Adam’s smile didn’t fade. "But it’s going to be fun trouble."