Outer Gods: The Unfathomable Beings
In this omnipotent universe, so vast that even "boundless" falls short—practically infinite—a tremendous variety of beings dwell. Intelligent lifeforms, microorganisms, colossal monsters, unique lifeforms... And among them, there occasionally exist utterly absurd entities that even mortals' minds cannot hope to comprehend.
Intelligent lifeforms dubbed them "Great Beings," "Gods," "Cthulhu," "Cosmic Gods," and a host of other names. Yet the beings themselves never revealed their species or names. They simply manifested, existing plainly in place. No one could grasp where they came from, how they arrived, or why. Entities no one could approach or understand. People began calling these existences from beyond the universe, collectively, Outer Gods.
The plural "existences" implies there is more than one. Of course, not all Outer Gods wield identical powers or the same level of strength. But from the perspective of mortals, they are beings from the outer world possessing godlike, incomprehensible abilities. Some planets even worship them as deities, leading to all sorts of problems. Yet since worshippers have virtually no means of dealing with the Outer Gods themselves, the Galactic Federation views them as one of its headaches. No, not just a headache—they were more like natural disasters.
Like ancient peoples unable to stop typhoons or earthquakes without advanced technology, Outer Gods were unstoppable calamities. The best course was simply to avoid them. But the Galactic Federation wasn't content to evade forever. With scientific progress, most intelligent lifeforms under its banner could now prevent natural disasters on their planets preemptively. Even if one struck, they could minimize damage or annihilate it with raw physical force. In other words, these cosmic natural disasters called Outer Gods were merely a matter of current technological limits. The Federation firmly believed they would one day enter the realm of controllability.
Indeed, the Rubaran tribe had once taken down a planet-sized Outer God using a colossal warship bristling with cutting-edge tech. Of course, that ultimate weapon—born from pooling the scientific might of the Rubaran and all cosmic intelligences—ended up shattered to pieces. Still, felling an unknown entity that seemed invincible was a monumental achievement. Some skeptics argued, "That thing was too weak to call an Outer God," or "It was basically just a giant monster the size of a planet."
A being whose mere gaze caused mental corruption, whose touch broke down molecules—and with a body the size of a planet. "That's not all there is to it," thought Yupiter, an elder of the Meias tribe who had been disciplined by furious Rubarans for claiming as much. He gazed at the handsome young Terra man in casual clothes before him.
"You can't judge it just by mental corruption, decomposition abilities, and sheer size. Not everything from another dimension is an Outer God."
There were hierarchies among interdimensional beings. The lowest tier: mindless destroyers. The mid-to-low tier: rational but unable to suppress primal instincts. The high tier: calm, curious explorers of worlds. And then... the supreme tier, the absolute strongest: those who had mastered all, indifferent to everything, content to merely observe.
In Yupiter's view, after centuries as a Meias elder, only high-tier or above deserved the title "Outer God." Anything lesser was more like a dimensional monster, hardly worthy of divinity.
So what of the Terra youth before him? Yupiter had already discerned he was an Outer God. He'd seen him conjure a state-of-the-art mental purification device from an empty pocket in an instant. And the mass mental corruption on the tourist ship? He'd cleansed it not with any device, but solely through his own authority. Even his disciple, Rowi Hendrick, hadn't sensed the energy flow—because it operated beyond universal laws, a mere exercise of capability.
"Supreme tier." Yupiter was certain. A top-tier outer existence, the most overwhelming and absolute among those from beyond the cosmos.
His conviction stemmed from the utter lack of purpose emanating from him. A mid-tier or lower would have atomized the entire ship and everyone aboard. Destruction of all encountered was their sole aim. A high-tier, mere Outer God, might have come out of curiosity to probe—but had no reason to mend the mental breakdowns of lesser beings. Yet here he was, apologizing as if sorry, restoring the corruption he'd caused. Hiding his identity with lies, pretending to be ordinary. Yupiter couldn't fathom why.
No purpose visible. Thus, a supreme existence: omniscient, omnipotent, beyond purpose or mortal comprehension. A true "Outer God."
"There must be a reason he's hiding. Best stay quiet." The youth surely knew Yupiter had seen through him, yet said nothing. The fact that Yupiter's mind remained intact upon realization was consideration in itself. If unwanted, memories could be erased—or his presence amplified to shatter the mind. Likely, he'd anticipated Yupiter would play along.
"A Terra youth, eh? Thanks to you, everyone on this ship, myself included, survived. My gratitude."
"Uh, ah. No, no big deal..."
Playing ignorant elicited a surprised widening of the youth's eyes. Yupiter, confirmed in his judgment, introduced himself and his group.
"Pleased to meet you. I am Yupiter, one of the Meias tribe elders. This is my disciple, Rowi Hendrick."
"Pleased to meet you."
...Well, moments after meeting, he'd already gleaned their names, positions, physical specs, and energy levels in detail—no introduction truly needed. That old man... as I suspected from first sight, he's no ordinary guy.
The Meias tribe: one of the Galactic Federation's elite races, centered on a fantasy-world planet from transmigration tales, with colonies across stars. Yupiter was one of their five rigorously selected elders. Beside him, the young man was his sole direct disciple, a rising genius tipped as next elder.
Handing over every last detail like this? Kills even small talk topics. Being an Outer God is more inconvenient than I thought. Robs the fun of getting to know new connections. Don't spill everything so deeply!
Still, now that they'd met, better get along. He wanted to see Meias magic firsthand. Sure, he knew it all theoretically—could even use it himself—but people had their fantasies. In another world, who wouldn't crave real magic? Knowing in your head versus witnessing with your eyes were worlds apart!
He yearned to see and marvel with his own senses.
"Passengers, we're sorry. Repairs are done, but... is anyone feeling seriously unwell?"
Then a crew member rushed up, breathless, addressing the group. The dazed crew and pilots must have fully recovered. Even purified, the chaos likely took time to sort.
But everyone seemed similarly situated: no real pain, just lingering confusion, now fading.
"My kid's struggling a bit..."
A Terra family raised a hand. "Sob, h-hic..." A girl around ten still wept. Purified or not, such trauma could linger. Worrying.
Slurp— Kids deserved extra care. Maybe tweak her memories for trauma therapy. Keep the events but excise fear keywords. She'd remember, just without terror.
"Hic... Huh? Why was I crying? Mom! When do we enter the Skull Nebula?"
"Huh? Are you okay...?"
Perfect—no future trauma. Heh heh, me... aren't I too kind for a terrifying, mysterious Outer God?