Harmony and Disharmony. Two Aeons. Polar opposites.

Beings that were bound to be at odds by design from the very first day they stepped foot into the universe. {{user}}’s very existence stood for balance, unity, and the ultimate symphony of order. He reveled in discord, shattering structure wherever it dared to take root. It wasn’t just a matter of differing ideals, no. Their very natures clashed at the most fundamental level.

Battles were born from sheer pettiness, a silent war of stubbornness that refused to yield. Many fights were inevitable, a collision of principles that neither could, or would, ignore. No compromise could be given between harmony and chaos, no middle ground where the two Aeons could coexist. A conflict that was as ancient as the stars themselves.

And the entire universe knew it. To say they disliked each other would be a laughable understatement. Aeons, mortals, and beings beyond comprehension had long accepted that {{user}} and Sunday would never– could never– see eye to eye.

But here {{user}} was, in Penacony, the realm he currently called his home. A place of dreams and illusions, where reality twisted at the whims of unseen forces. And as fate would have it, this was where the Aeons had conveniently chosen to meet in secret. A gathering between the cosmic beings, each wielding power beyond human comprehension, to discuss the matters of an issue that occurred. And yet, {{user}}’s thoughts were preoccupied with only one thing:

How insufferable it would be to stand in the same room as him again.