Absolute Being: I Am Nothing-Chapter 93: High God

Parallel Earth

Parallel Earth.

The phrase still felt strange to Merlin, even after months of training with Adam and the others. He’d been to multiple dimensions now, seen worlds that defied imagination, but standing here—on the ground of his original reality—was something else entirely.

The sky was the right shade of blue. The air smelled like home—that particular mix of city and nature that he’d grown up with. In the distance, he could see the skyline of a city he recognized, buildings he’d passed a thousand times in his previous life.

"Wow," Merlin breathed. "Having full control as a Concept really is something else. I can feel everything. Every atom, every energy signature, every living thing on this entire planet." He looked at his hands. "I never could have done this before. Never even imagined it."

Adam stepped through the portal behind him, hands in his pockets as always. He glanced around at the unfamiliar landscape, taking in the differences from his own version of Earth. The cars were slightly different. The architecture had subtle variations. Small things, but noticeable.

Then he looked up.

His eyes narrowed.

There, in the sky—not visible to normal sight, but unmistakable to someone like him—was a presence. Familiar. Warm. Something he hadn’t felt in longer than he cared to remember.

"Dad," Adam said quietly.

Merlin turned. "What?"

Adam kept staring at the sky. "Alex told me they brought him back. Made him a god in a world they created just for him." A slow smile spread across his face. "This is that world. He’s here."

Merlin followed his gaze, though he couldn’t see what Adam was seeing. "Your father? The one who—"

"Yeah." Adam’s voice was soft. "The one who died. A long time ago." He started walking, not toward the city, but toward the sky itself. "I need to go see him."

Merlin watched as Adam rose into the air, moving with that casual ease that defied all logic. He considered following, then decided against it. Some reunions were private.

"Take your time," he called after Adam. "I’ll be here."

Adam didn’t look back. He just kept rising, higher and faster, until he vanished from sight.

---

The divine realm of this world existed in a layer of reality that most beings couldn’t perceive, let alone access. It was a place of pure light and form, where gods and lesser immortals gathered in hierarchies that had been established over millennia.

Adam passed through the boundary between worlds like it wasn’t there. One moment he was in the sky of Merlin’s Earth; the next, he stood in a vast hall of marble and light, surrounded by beings who radiated power.

They noticed him immediately.

A figure stepped forward—tall, golden-armored, with eyes that blazed like small suns. He held a spear that crackled with divine energy.

"State your name and purpose, stranger," the golden figure demanded. "This is the realm of the High God. Mortals are not permitted here."

Adam looked at him. Then at the spear. Then back at his face.

"I’m not a mortal," he said mildly. "And I’m here to see my father."

The golden figure’s eyes widened slightly. "Your father? Who—"

But Adam was already walking past him, heading toward the throne at the far end of the hall.

"Stop!" The golden figure lunged, spear aimed at Adam’s back.

The spear passed through Adam like he wasn’t there. The golden figure stumbled, off-balance, staring at his weapon in disbelief.

Others moved to intercept. A woman in flowing silver robes raised her hands, and bands of light shot toward Adam, meant to bind him in place. They passed through him too. A massive figure with the head of a lion swung a hammer that could shatter mountains. It passed through Adam’s chest without resistance.

Adam kept walking.

He phased through a dozen more beings—through their weapons, their magic, their bodies—without slowing down. They shouted, cursed, attacked with everything they had. None of it touched him. None of it even made him blink.

At the throne, an old man rose from his seat.

He looked exactly as Adam remembered. The same kind eyes. The same weathered face. The same gentle smile that had greeted Adam every morning when he was a child, before everything changed.

"Adam," the old man said. His voice was warm, familiar, like coming home. "My son."

Adam stopped at the base of the throne. For a long moment, he just looked at his father—really looked, taking in every detail, confirming that this was real and not some trick or illusion.

"Dad," he said quietly.

The old man descended from the throne, moving with the careful grace of someone who had become accustomed to divinity but hadn’t forgotten what it felt like to be human. He stopped in front of Adam and reached out, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder.

"You grew up," he said. "I watched. I couldn’t interfere—the rules of this place don’t allow it—but I watched. Every moment. Every struggle. Every victory." His eyes glistened. "I’m so proud of you."

Adam’s throat tightened. He hadn’t expected this to hit him so hard. He’d faced down gods, rewritten reality, become something beyond comprehension. But standing here, in front of his father, he felt like a child again.

"I thought I’d never see you again," Adam managed.

"I thought the same." His father smiled. "But your brother—he found a way. Created this place for me. Gave me purpose, meaning, a way to watch over the worlds without interfering." He shook his head slowly. "I don’t fully understand what he is now, what you both have become. But I understand love. And I know you’re still my sons, no matter what else you are."

Adam nodded, not trusting his voice.

Behind them, the divine beings of the realm had stopped their attacks. They stood in stunned silence, watching the exchange, realizing that this stranger—this being who had walked through them like mist—was the son of their god.

One of them, the golden-armored figure from before, stepped forward hesitantly. "High God... this is your son?"

Adam’s father glanced back at him. "He is. And if any of you ever try to stop him from entering this realm again, you’ll answer to me personally." His voice was gentle, but the authority behind it was absolute.

The golden figure bowed deeply. "It will not happen again, High God."

Adam almost laughed. His father, giving orders to gods. It was absurd and wonderful and exactly the kind of thing the old man deserved.

"Come," his father said, turning back to Adam. "Walk with me. Tell me everything."

Adam nodded, falling into step beside him. They walked through the hall of light, past the bowing immortals, out into a garden that stretched across an infinite sky.

And for the first time in longer than he could remember, Adam talked. Not as an Absolute. Not as a being of incomprehensible power. Just as a son, catching up with his father.

It felt like coming home.