MaRa and Costelor had become the new guardians of the Knot of the Gods, guardians of the fragile balance between chaos and order. Their consciousnesses were now integrated with the strings that bound all realities, and their perception had expanded beyond time and space. But in this new state of existence, something deep and dangerous was beginning to stir.

As they became watchers, they felt a subtle shift, like a wave of energy crossing the Multiverse. They had been engulfed in an apparent silence, an oppressive stillness in the vastness of this new universe they controlled, but this stillness hid a terrifying truth.

MaRa felt an old but familiar presence. Although he watched over the Knot and maintained the flow of realities, he felt that another force, even older than the Knot of the Gods, was beginning to stir. The shadows that haunted the edge of existence were no longer mere reminiscences of the Infinite. They were a call, a voice from a past so distant that no previous Watcher had felt it. Yet.

"You can feel them, can't you?" MaRa asked, looking at Costelor. His eyes, once full of curiosity and strength, were now shadowed by a fear he tried to hide.

CosTelor nodded, feeling that unsettling call too. "It's not just shadows. They are something much older. It's like he's trying to pull us beyond the Node, beyond anything we've ever known."

MaRa looked beyond the web of strings that enveloped the Multiverse. Every reality, every dimension was delicately interconnected, but somewhere at the edge of these invisible threads, a force was beginning to act. This was not just a disturbance, it was an awakening consciousness—the Old Creators, entities that had been present before the strings shaped reality. Before the balance between chaos and order is established.

“Old Creators…” MaRa murmured, her voice seeming to be lost in the cosmic vastness. "They were not the guardians of the realities. They are the ones who created chaos and order. They were first and foremost."

CosTelor could feel his heart beating faster. Myths about the Old Creators were rare, mentioned only in the oldest fragments of cosmic history, before the creation of strings and the order of realities. Those entities were believed to have faded out of existence, self-destructing in their internal conflicts. But it seems they'd just retreated into an inaccessible realm… until now.

"If they return, all will be lost," CosTelor said, his voice heavy. "We are not prepared to face such a force."

MaRa looked beyond the Nod, feeling the threads of reality begin to tremble. "We are the ones who have to defend the Node. If we don't, there will be no more order. The Old Creators do not need balance. They are the creators of chaos and order, but in their pure form they obey no laws.”

As MaRa and CosTelor tried to understand the nature of this new threat, a rift in the space around the Node began to open. Emerging from it were vague but powerful figures, each made of matter and antimatter, contorting in ways that defied understanding. They were forms without a body, thoughts without substance, but still extremely real.

"Watchers of the Knot," came a deep voice, coming from all directions. “You've held your balance for too long. You have fenced off what should have been free. We are the ones who existed before strings bound reality. We are the Ancient Creators.”

MaRa felt her consciousness being invaded by their presence. These creators were not gods, as they had imagined them in myth, but fundamental forces of reality. They existed before any notion of order or chaos, before time was linear and space had form. And now, they wanted to regain their power.

"You will not destroy what I have built," MaRa said, her voice vibrating with strength but also with fear. "We have become guardians of the Node to protect the Multiverse from such forces."

One of the figures, the most imposing of all, approached, and reality seemed to disintegrate around it. "We are not here to destroy. We are here to deliver. You have tried to control something that cannot be controlled. Balance is an illusion. Chaos and order coexist not because they have to, but because they are our expression. We are the foundation of every universe. And you watchers… are but shadows of our creation.”

CoTelor watched the entity in silence, feeling space and time bend around them. "If we face them, we will lose," he whispered to MaRa. "We have no power against them."

MaRa knew she was right, but she felt deep down that something was missing. The Ancient Creators had immense power, but also a weakness hidden deep within them. They were bound to chaos and order, but could not exist without them.

"What if we shouldn't face them?" MaRa asked, an unexpected thought entering her mind.

Costelor suddenly turned to her. "What do you mean?"

MaRa turned her gaze to Nod. “They created everything, but they depend on what they created. Chaos and order are their expressions, but also the foundation of their power. If we can destabilize that base… if we can alter the strings at a fundamental level, it might lose its influence.”

CosTelor looked around, trying to understand her plan. "If we try to destabilize strings, the risk is huge. The entire Multiverse could be destroyed.”

"And if we do nothing," MaRa said with new determination, "they'll take everything."

He synchronizes his mind with the thongs, feeling their vibration in the depths of existence. With one intention, he began to destabilize them, to alter their frequency to such a subtle level that even the Old Creators could not sense what was happening. The strings had begun to behave differently, to alter their nature in a way that defied their traditional order.

The entities in front of them stopped, feeling something slip from them. One of the figures suddenly turned, her voice growing harsher. "What are you doing? Reality is starting to fall apart!”

MaRa continued, feeling the thongs vibrate under her control. "You will no longer control chaos and order," she said. "You will no longer dictate the balance of realities. I will deprive you of your power.”

As the strings destabilized, the entities began to contort, losing their shape. The Old Creators could feel the foundation of their existence being undermined and their once infinite power beginning to dissolve.

"You won't make it," one of the entities bellowed, before her form disappeared in a burst of light and darkness.

With one last effort, MaRa managed to stabilize the strings at the new frequency, and reality began to settle. But in the process, she and CosTelor felt their beings merge even deeper with the Knot, becoming a part of it on a much deeper level than before.

“I stopped them… but at a price,” CosTelor said, feeling reality settle in again.

MaRa, exhausted but aware of their success, whispered, “I've prevented their return…for now. But the Old Makers will not give up. They are bound by chaos and order, and this conflict is not over.”

They watched as the space around the Node became stable again, but they knew their struggles were far from over. The multiverse had been saved from destruction, but the fundamental tensions between creation and chaos, between order and disorder, would resurface. And on the fringes of existence, the Old Makers waited for another moment to return.

MaRa and Costelor were now bound to the Node forever, not just as watchers, but as architects of an ever-changing reality, aware that their every action could determine the future of the Multiverse.

But somewhere in the depths of the chaos, another consciousness reared its head, ready to intervene in ways that still defied their understanding.

And so, the thong echo continued to vibrate, heralding new challenges beyond anything he could have imagined.

Explore further… The Fall of the Knot