O.M.G!

The scene begins with a serene, cosmic expanse. Stars shimmer, galaxies swirl, and somewhere amidst the infinite, a cozy little office floats, adorned with a mix of divine antiquity and modern kitsch. The sign on the door reads in elegant golden lettering: "O.C.'s Office"

Inside, God, the Original Creator, O.C. for short, sits behind a wooden desk that looks like it was carved from a single, ancient tree.

Across from Him sits R.O.B., a being of boundless energy and excitement. His grin is wide, his posture relaxed, and his suit, an absurdly stylish three-piece with interstellar patterns, reflects his personality.

O.C. folds His hands on the desk, His eyes twinkling with the kind of patience only eternity could grant. "So, you're interested in the position?"

R.O.B. leans back in the chair, balancing it precariously on two legs, a playful smirk plastered on his face. "Interested? Big Guy, I was born for this. Not literally, of course because, well, I'm not sure if I even was born. But you get it." He winks. "Also, can I just say big fan of Your work. Top-notch stuff. The platypus? Absolute comedy gold. Seriously, what were You smoking when You came up with that?"

O.C. chuckles softly. "A whimsical creation, I admit. But this isn't just about humor, R.O.B. Running the universe is an immense responsibility. Balancing chaos and order, fostering growth, ensuring things don't fall apart... completely, at least."

"Hey, I can balance chaos and order!" R.O.B. declares, leaning forward and spreading his hands dramatically. "Chaos and I go way back. We were roommates in college. A bit messy, sure, but great guy. Taught me how to properly prank a galaxy."

O.C. raises an eyebrow but smiles nonetheless. "You do realize this is a serious job, yes?"

"Absolutely. 100%. Serious as a black hole on a bender. But let's not pretend this isn't also about fun. Come on, Boss, You didn't make this universe just to be boring. You sprinkled in comedy everywhere. Why else would You give humans toes? Or make bananas naturally fit in their hands? You knew what You were doing. You had a vision!"

O.C. leans back in His chair, studying R.O.B. thoughtfully. "And you think you can handle everything that comes with this role? Creation, destruction, guiding souls, overseeing infinite realities—"

"Say no more!" R.O.B. interrupts, pointing finger-guns at O.C. "You're talking to the guy who once juggled three mini-universes and a bag of Doritos. I can do this."

O.C. shakes His head with a chuckle, clearly amused by R.O.B.'s antics. "You're enthusiastic, I'll give you that. But there's a lot to consider. Creation requires compassion, patience, wisdom—"

"And style," R.O.B. adds, gesturing to his galaxy-patterned suit. "Don't forget style. I mean, look at You-You're rocking that flowing robe like a cosmic fashion icon. Can't run a universe looking drab."

O.C. sighs but can't help the small smile tugging at His lips. "Why do you want this job, R.O.B.?"

R.O.B.'s grin softens, and for a moment, there's sincerity in his voice. "Because the universe is awesome. It's wild and messy and beautiful, and I think it deserves someone who can see the humor and wonder in all of it. Someone who won't take it too seriously but still respects it, you know? I think I can bring a little... spice to the cosmic soup."

O.C. gazes at him for a long moment, then stands, extending His hand. "Alright, R.O.B. The universe is yours. Don't disappoint me."

R.O.B. leaps to his feet, shaking O.C.'s hand enthusiastically. "You won't regret this, Big Guy! I'm gonna make this universe the best playground ever. But, uh, quick question can I get a throne? Something with cup holders? Maybe a massage feature?"

O.C. chuckles, already walking toward the glowing door that signifies His retirement. "Good luck, R.O.B. You'll need it."

As the door closes behind Him, R.O.B. spins around, throwing himself into the chair behind the desk and kicking his feet up.

After O.C.'s departure, R.O.B. starts his journey as the new overseer of creation, with endless excitement coursing through him.

The montage begins with R.O.B. standing before a swirling nebula, cracking his knuckles. "Alright, first universe—let's knock this out of the park!"

----

FIRST UNIVERSE

R.O.B. adds the finishing touches, grinning as he breathes life into a planet teeming with intelligent dinosaurs. They wear tiny suits and monocles, debating philosophy over tea.

"Yes! Look at them go! Velociraptor philosophers? Chef's kiss."

However, the universe collapses after one velociraptor develops a method to terraform the sun, accidentally causing it to implode.

"Okay, note to self: maybe don't give the raptors too much brainpower," R.O.B. muses as he resets the canvas.

---

UNIVERSE #147

This one features humanoid fish people who discover electricity through jellyfish. They create entire cities underwater, glowing like bioluminescent disco balls.

"Electric jellyfish! Genius, R.O.B., absolute genius," he says, toasting himself with a champagne flute that materializes in his hand.

But then, the jellyfish unionize and revolt, shocking everything into oblivion.

"Wow. Did not see that coming. Maybe fish people need a different energy source. Onto the next!"

---

UNIVERSE # 5007

A planet filled with talking furniture. Couches argue with recliners about comfort levels, while tables engage in philosophical debates about purpose.

"Peak creativity," R.O.B. says proudly.

But eventually, the chairs stage a revolution against the beds, plunging the planet into chaos.

"Man, why is everyone so rebellious? Maybe I should tone down the sentience a smidge..."

---

UNIVERSE# 13,424

Sentient cats rule this universe, building entire civilizations where humans serve them as royal attendants.

"Finally, a world where cats get what they deserve!" R.O.B. declares with a fist pump.

But the cats eventually grow too lazy to manage their empire, and the entire society collapses into a heap of catnip and sunbathing.

"Okay, fine. Maybe cats aren't cut out for politics. Next!"

----

UNIVERSE# ♾️

The universes grow wilder and more experimental. One features sentient candy battling tooth-brushing androids. Another has a world where gravity works in reverse, and inhabitants must tether themselves to the ground.

Each time, R.O.B. learns something new, tweaking the formula, creating a reality, watching it thrive—or implode—and starting again.

But as the cycles go on, his excitement begins to dim. His once-playful grin softens into a tired smile. His dramatic flair diminishes. His experiments become more routine.

----

UNIVERSE# ♾️ 1

R.O.B. sat slumped in his floating throne, idly spinning a small planet in his hand. The cosmic clipboard hovered beside him, filled with endless notes and scribbles, many of which were crossed out in frustration.

He sighed, staring at the blank canvas of a universe before him. "What's even the point anymore? Big boom, little life, big bang again. It's like reruns of the same boring sitcom."

The swirling cosmos around him felt quieter than usual. For the first time, R.O.B. felt the weight of eternity pressing down on him. He leaned back in his throne, letting out a long groan, when suddenly- thunk!-the chair tipped back too far, sending him sprawling onto the floor.

"OW! Seriously? Even my throne hates me now?" He rubbed the back of his head, muttering. As he stood, he noticed something odd a drawer from an old wooden desk had popped open.

The desk, once belonging to the original Creator, had been tucked into a corner of his vast office when R.O.B. took over the job. He'd never given it much thought before, but now, curiosity tugged at him.

R.O.B. walked over and knelt, peering into the drawer. "What's this?" He pulled out a stack of old notebooks, scrolls, and loose papers. Each one was labeled with strange titles like Interactive Realities: Gaming and Play, The Power of Animation, and Sub-Prime Universes.

As he flipped through them, his eyes widened. These weren't just notes they were ideas. Concepts the Creator had used to spark new kinds of creativity among mortals.

"Oh-ho, what's this? Cartoons? Video games? And… tabletop RPGs?" He chuckled, flipping through the pages. "So this is how mortals make universes on their own? God, you sneaky genius."

The notes explained that every story, every game, every artistic endeavor by mortals had the potential to create alternate realities. A single Dungeons & Dragons campaign could spawn thousands of timelines. Every playthrough of a video game like The Elder Scrolls or Mass Effect could lead to new dimensions. Cartoons, anime, and comics added absurdity, heart, and endless branching paths to the multiverse.

R.O.B. grinned. "So every time someone creates a fanfiction crossover between, say, Dragon Ball Z and My Little Pony, I've gotta make a new universe for that? Oh, this is amazing. Mortals are like little chaos factories!"

He dug deeper into the drawer, discovering that these creative explosions didn't stop at original works. Fan communities debating, remixing, and expanding stories birthed entirely new branches of existence. Crossovers, alternate endings, and self-insert stories each one fractured reality further.

"Wait, wait, wait." R.O.B. paused, laughing as he found a scroll titled Sub-Prime Universes. "So the Creator even had to make a special branch just to handle all the fanfiction? That's brilliant! No wonder anime and cartoons are so wild. Mortals are nuts!"

He leaned back against the desk, staring at the swirling multiverse. Each universe—whether born from a video game, a cartoon, or a fanfiction crossover—twinkled and branched infinitely.

"And here I was getting bored," R.O.B. said with a grin. "Turns out, the best entertainment isn't what I make—it's what they make."

With a snap of his fingers, the cosmic canvas before him erupted in new sparks of inspiration. Across countless worlds, creators suddenly felt struck by ideas for groundbreaking games, mind-bending anime, and ridiculous crossovers.

R.O.B. floated back to his throne, dusting himself off and chuckling. "Alright, let's see what happens when I nudge things just a little. Time to sit back.

He noticed a small twinkle in the vast web of the multiverse. Leaning forward, R.O.B. squinted at the faint glow as it began to ripple outward, spreading like wildfire across countless branches.

"What's this now?" he muttered, summoning the cosmic clipboard. A closer look revealed something peculiar: several universes were subtly altering, all revolving around one constant him.

"Oh, ho-ho, what's this?" R.O.B. said, his grin growing wider as he tapped a few glowing nodes. "Looks like someone's been getting creative. Wait… they're writing about me? I'm in their stories?"

The ripple expanded, forming even more branches. Each one depicted a different version of him, an omnipotent being who plucked people from one universe typically the Sub-Prime and dropped them into entirely new worlds. Sometimes he was benevolent, granting second chances and wild adventures. Other times, he was a trickster, throwing mortals into chaos for his own amusement.

He chuckled. "So, I've become the ultimate multiversal meme? Mortals writing about me taking people from their dull lives and chucking them into anime, games, and—" He paused, staring at one particularly chaotic branch. "Oh no, My Little Pony again?"

The glowing branches seemed to multiply before his eyes, each one a reflection of some mortal's imagination. Some depicted him as a Ryan Reynolds-esque jokester (accurate), while others cast him as a stoic, enigmatic figure of immense power (not as fun but still flattering).

"You gotta hand it to them," R.O.B. said, spinning the clipboard in his hand. "Mortals really do know how to spice things up. I mean, sending one of their own to a world where dinosaurs are sentient warriors? Genius. Sending them to a reverse-harem dating sim? Bold. But me, as the one behind it all? That's next-level creativity."

He leaned back, spinning the little planet in his palm again, watching as the twinkle grew into a cascade of new universes.

"Looks like I've become a cosmic celebrity," he mused. "And honestly? I'm here for it."

With a snap of his fingers, he added a little flourish to the multiverse an extra shimmer of energy that made these stories of him even more vibrant and chaotic. Mortals across the Sub-Prime universe would suddenly feel an extra spark of inspiration, thinking up even crazier scenarios involving R.O.B.

"And now," he said, standing and stretching dramatically, "let's see how far they can take this. I mean, if you're gonna write a fanfic about me, at least make it good."

R.O.B. chuckled as he watched the multiverse expand, each new thread sparked by the wild imaginations of creators across the Sub-Prime universe. However, his laughter began to wane as he noticed something peculiar the Sub-Prime was multiplying faster than usual.

He leaned forward, gripping his cosmic clipboard. The prime universe the untouchable core of reality, unyielding to any form of change remained stable, as always. The immutable canon persisted: Pyrrha Nikos still fell at the hands of Cinder in RWBY, iconic characters lived or died as dictated by their creators, and no matter how much mortals wished it, the original timeline remained untouchable.

But the Sub-Prime? That was a different story.

The universes branched endlessly, fueled by fanfiction. Each new thread was an attempt to rewrite, reshape, or defy the canon. Worlds where Pyrrha Nikos survived blossomed in abundance, universes where Tony Stark never snapped his fingers, or where the dinosaurs ruled over humans instead of being extinct.

"Well, that's not unusual," R.O.B. muttered, scratching his head. "Fanfic authors love their what-ifs. But..." He squinted as the Sub-Prime expanded exponentially, whole galaxies of new stories blooming within moments.

He tapped on the clipboard, zooming in. "Huh. That's odd. Why is it... multiplying this fast?"

Usually, the Sub-Prime expanded at a manageable pace, reflecting the flow of human creativity. But now? It was like someone had pressed the cosmic "turbo" button. Universes splintered off by the thousands every second, creating layers upon layers of divergent possibilities.

R.O.B. leaned back and stroked his chin. "Okay, let's think this through. Canon remains canon. It's locked tight mortals can't change it, no matter how many fix-it fics they write. But the Sub-Prime? That's where they let their imaginations run wild. So why...?"

He zoomed in further, his eyes narrowing. He spotted clusters of universes forming around specific nodes powerful "what-ifs" that were spawning entire branches of their own.

"Of course," he said with a grin. "It's because they're obsessed with breaking the rules. They know canon can't be touched, so they create infinite alternatives to defy it. Like cosmic loopholes."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Mortals really don't take 'no' for an answer, huh?"

R.O.B. floated back in his throne, watching the Sub-Prime grow. He marveled at the sheer creativity the countless ways humans sought to rewrite what couldn't be changed. It was chaotic, yes, but it was beautiful too.

"Well," he said, smirking, "looks like I've got my work cut out for me. If this keeps up, I might have to create another layer of the multiverse just to keep things tidy."

With a snap of his fingers, he sent a ripple through the cosmos, adding a touch of his own chaotic energy to the ever-expanding Sub-Prime.

"Let's see what happens when I throw a little spice into the mix," he said, reclining in his throne. "After all, if they're going to write fanfiction about me, I might as well give them something worth writing about."

As the Sub-Prime expanded, R.O.B. noticed something peculiar in the endless cascade of universes. Among the vibrant worlds filled with heroics, laughter, and hope, darker universes began to emerge. They weren't the usual "what if this villain won" scenarios that popped up now and then. No, these were... oppressive. Overwhelming. Entire multiversal branches born of despair, cruelty, and chaos.

He leaned forward, his smirk fading as he observed one of the dark universes. In this world, the heroes never rose, the villains ruled with iron fists, and the concept of hope was nonexistent.

"Huh," R.O.B. muttered, scratching his chin. "Okay, that's new. I mean, I've seen edgy universes before mortals do love their grimdark but this is... different."

The longer he observed, the more he noticed similar patterns. These dark multiverses weren't just isolated threads; they were spreading. Branches intertwined, forming a shadowy web of malevolence.

"Alright, that's not good," he said, snapping his fingers to pause the Sub-Prime's rapid expansion. "Can't have the dark universes spilling over into the light ones. That's how you get messy crossovers."

He zoomed in further, analyzing the connections. The dark multiverses weren't inherently bad they were born from mortal imagination, just like everything else. But their sheer intensity created an imbalance, threatening to overshadow the other multiverses.

R.O.B. sighed. "Looks like I've got to play cosmic janitor again."

He stood, brushing off his hands, and raised them to the swirling canvas before him. With a wave, he began separating the universes. The dark multiverses peeled away, forming their own cluster, safely distanced from the light and neutral ones.

"Balance, baby," he said with a grin. "Can't have too much darkness or too much light. Gotta keep things spicy."

Once the dark multiverses were contained, R.O.B. turned his attention to the neutral ones. These universes were harder to pin down worlds where morality was a spectrum, and outcomes weren't dictated by clear-cut notions of good or evil.

"Alright, you guys get your own space too," he said, creating a separate cluster for the neutral multiverses.

He stepped back, admiring his handiwork. Three distinct clusters floated before him: the light multiverses, shining with hope and heroism; the dark multiverses, brooding with shadowy intrigue; and the neutral multiverses, swirling in shades of gray.

"Perfect," R.O.B. said, clapping his hands. "Now everyone has their own sandbox to play in. No more accidental cross-contamination."

But as he admired the balance he'd created, a thought nagged at the back of his mind.

"If there's light, dark, and neutral..." he muttered, glancing at the empty space between the clusters. "What's in the in-between?"

He zoomed in, searching the void between the clusters. At first, it seemed empty, but then... a faint flicker. A strange, chaotic energy that didn't belong to any of the three multiverses.

R.O.B.'s grin returned, wider than ever. "Well, now. What do we have here?"

R.O.B. leaned closer to the flickering void, his playful grin giving way to genuine curiosity. The strange, chaotic energy seemed alive, pulsating with an intricate rhythm that didn't align with any of the clusters he had created. With a wave of his hand, he magnified the area, revealing countless tiny lights, each glowing faintly in the void.

"What are you little guys?" he mused, reaching out to pluck one of the lights from the void. The moment he touched it, the light expanded into a scene, playing out before him like a hologram.

He saw cloaked figures the Time Variance Authority monitoring timelines and pruning branches to maintain a singular flow. A moment later, the scene shifted to warriors clad in futuristic armor the Time Patrol of the Xenoverse battling rogue time anomalies to preserve the integrity of their own universe's history.

"Ah, so you're the cleanup crew," R.O.B. said with a chuckle. "Tiny little mechanics keeping the gears of the multiverse from grinding to a halt. Cute."

The energy shifted again, revealing a monstrous being the Anti-Monitor devouring entire realities to enforce a bizarre form of cosmic balance. His counterpart, the Monitor, observed from the edges, seeking to prevent chaos from spiraling out of control.

"Okay, not so cute," R.O.B. muttered, eyeing the destruction. "But efficient. Gotta respect that."

As he explored further, he encountered other entities: the stoic "Living Tribunal", arbitrating cosmic disputes with impassive authority; the Four Horsemen of Apocalypse, embodying primordial forces that shaped countless worlds; and the very concepts of emotions, taking form in vibrant entities like the Lantern Corps from the DC Universe.

Each discovery painted a clearer picture: these beings weren't just protecting individual universes. They were the silent custodians of narrative structure, ensuring stories unfolded within their intended bounds.

R.O.B. grinned. "Oh, so you're the guardrails keeping the rollercoaster from flying off the tracks. But what happens if I give the ride a little... nudge?"

He reached out to another flicker and saw something surprising: the sprawling narrative of Fate/Grand Order, where human history was rewritten, protected, and challenged by heroes and legends across time. The idea that mortals themselves could act as anchors for stories intrigued him.

"Now that's clever," he said. "Letting the little guys play hero in their own timeline corrections. They probably don't even realize how much work they're saving you big cosmic players."

Finally, the chaotic energy coalesced into an image of a grand library, infinite in scope, filled with books representing every story ever told. At its center was a single, glowing book the Prime Story. Around it orbited countless smaller tomes, representing the Sub-Prime multiverse. The library's caretaker was an enigmatic figure, flipping through pages with care.

"Well, hello there," R.O.B. said, intrigued. "You must be the Librarian of the Multiverse. And here I thought I was running the whole show."

The figure didn't respond, but R.O.B. noticed how each book's pages shimmered with life, bound by the narratives the custodians and cosmic entities helped shape.

R.O.B. leaned back, crossing his arms. "So, you've got your hands full keeping all these stories in line, huh? Guess I've been playing fast and loose while you've been the real unsung hero."

For the first time in ages, R.O.B. felt a spark of excitement. "Alright then, let's see how much you can handle before things get... interesting."

With a snap of his fingers, he sent ripples through the void, creating subtle disturbances that would test the boundaries of these cosmic safeguards.

"Let's see how the Time Patrol reacts to a hero from one world accidentally landing in another," he mused. "Or what happens when a Lantern ring ends up in a universe where they don't even have color-coded emotions."

----

As the ripples spread through the cosmic tapestry, R.O.B. lounged back in his throne, his grin widening as the first sparks of chaos ignited across the multiverse. Entire realities began to quiver as unexpected collisions and deviations occurred. Heroes and villains alike found themselves thrust into unfamiliar situations.

In one corner of the Sub-Prime multiverse, the Time Patrol scrambled as their monitors lit up with dozens of red alerts. Trunks leaned forward, his brow furrowed in frustration.

"What in the world is happening?" he muttered, staring at the countless branching timelines blooming out of nowhere. "This isn't just time travel it's like someone's playing pinball with reality."

Supreme Kai of Time materialized beside him, her expression grim. "It's not natural. Someone or something is deliberately causing this chaos. We need to find the source."

Meanwhile, in the Lantern Corps' Central Battery, the Guardians of the Universe floated solemnly, their usual calm disrupted by the erratic behavior of their power rings. Rings zipped chaotically across the room, choosing unexpected bearers in unknown dimensions.

"How is this possible?" demanded one Guardian, his voice tinged with frustration. "The emotional spectrum cannot extend into universes without corresponding frameworks."

Another Guardian, cloaked in wisdom, narrowed his eyes. "Someone... or something... has poked a hole in the very concept of boundaries."

In the Fate/Grand Order timeline, Chaldea's command center was in disarray. Mash Kyrielight stood beside Ritsuka Fujimaru as the communications array flickered, showing strange disruptions across their operations.

"Senpai," Mash said hesitantly, "it's almost as if the singularities are expanding. But these aren't our worlds."

Da Vinci grinned, though her expression betrayed her concern. "Looks like we're in for a multiversal mix-up. Let's hope whoever's behind this isn't just doing it for fun."

Across these universes, the ripple effects grew stronger. The Anti-Monitor, once content devouring rogue universes, paused as he sensed the sheer scale of the disruption. For the first time, his calculations failed him.

"I cannot consume what is no longer predictable," he growled. "This disturbance must be eradicated at its source."

Meanwhile, the Librarian of the Multiverse, seated in their infinite library, calmly turned a page. They tilted their head, sensing the mischief afoot, though no trace of its instigator appeared in their records.

"Curious," they murmured. "A hand unseen moves the chessboard. Let us see how the players respond."

----

Back in his realm, R.O.B. stretched leisurely, the cosmic clipboard hovering nearby with status updates. He snickered as he watched Trunks narrowly dodge a rogue ripple that plopped a Lantern ring onto Goku's finger, turning the Saiyan into an unwitting Green Lantern.

"Oh, this is golden," R.O.B. chuckled. "I wonder how the Time Patrol's gonna explain that one to their supervisors."

The clipboard buzzed, showing a scene where the Chaldea crew accidentally summoned Batman as a Servant instead of their intended Heroic Spirit.

"Chef's kiss! This is why I love meddling," R.O.B. said, blowing a dramatic kiss at the screen.

For now, the cosmic custodians had no idea who or what was responsible for this mess. But as they scrambled to restore balance, their efforts inadvertently created more chaos. Every fix opened new doors, and every door led to another unforeseen consequence.

Unseen and unbothered, R.O.B. kicked his feet up. "Let's see how long it takes them to notice they're dancing to my tune. Not that they'll ever find me I'm not a character in their stories. I'm the guy holding the pen."

He noticed the darkened edges of some universes a grim ripple that seemed to mirror his own playful tinkering. "Balance, huh? Fine. Let's divide the multiverse up properly: the bright, the dark, and the 'could-go-either-way.'"

A snap of his fingers sent a subtle wave through the multiverse, realigning realities into the Good, Dark, and Neutral branches. The worlds themselves shifted almost imperceptibly, like a leaf caught in the wind, while the inhabitants remained blissfully unaware.

"Now this is how you keep the party going," R.O.B. muttered, conjuring a tub of popcorn from thin air. "Let's see what they do next."

----

Universe 7: The Saiyan Ringbearer

In Universe 7, Goku gazed at the green ring on his hand, tilting his head curiously. "So, I just think of something, and it happens?"

The ring's AI responded matter-of-factly. "Correct. Your imagination and willpower fuel its constructs. Use it wisely."

Goku immediately conjured a glowing green bowl of ramen. "Oh man, Bulma's gonna love this!"

The ripple: As Goku's use of the ring escalates, minor changes begin to occur smaller planets are saved, but certain battles against galactic foes become overkill. The Time Patrol detects these shifts, noting a "Lantern-like energy signature" emanating from the Saiyan timeline but chalks it up to natural multiversal bleed-over.

No one in Universe 7 questions the ring's origin, and Goku continues using it with childlike wonder.

----

Chaldea: The Bat Rises

In the summoning chamber of Chaldea, Ritsuka Fujimaru stared as the light faded, revealing a dark-caped figure standing tall.

"I am vengeance. I am the night. I am... confused."

Mash cautiously lowered her shield. "Um… welcome to Chaldea?"

The ripple: Batman's tactical genius allows the team to navigate Singularities with precision, but his questions about "how all this works" cause Da Vinci and Ritsuka to sidestep certain explanations. To them, Batman is simply an oddly grounded Heroic Spirit with unparalleled skills.

In Gotham, however, subtle changes ripple through time as villains and heroes alike feel echoes of something missing like a gap in their carefully crafted fates.

----

Marvel's Cosmic Balancers: The Living Tribunal

In the heart of the Marvel multiverse, the Living Tribunal paused for the briefest moment. A fragment of its omniscient mind detected something unusual a new source of cosmic energy, but one that fit neatly within existing laws.

"It is... curious," the Tribunal mused. "But not yet disruptive."

R.O.B., sipping his popcorn from afar, smirked. "That's right, big guy. Nothing to see here just a happy little accident."

The ripple: Across Marvel's universes, cosmic entities like Eternity and Infinity feel a faint tug at their fabric but dismiss it as natural fluctuations. On Earth, it manifests as subtle tweaks to certain heroes' paths, their fates brushing against unseen possibilities but never straying too far from canon.

----

Despite R.O.B.'s meddling, every universe remains intact, the characters oblivious to the shifts around them. The Time Patrol in Xenoverse monitors anomalies without discovering their source. Chaldea fights Singularities without questioning their odd new Rider's origin. Marvel's cosmic entities sense minor disturbances but write them off as multiversal quirks.

R.O.B. grinned, his laughter echoing through his cosmic domain. "They don't even realize I'm the one pulling the strings. That's the best part! Now let's crank it up a notch and see what they do with all this potential."

R.O.B. leaned forward, watching as new fanfiction-inspired branches began to take shape. A universe where Frieza forms a truce with the Saiyans? Done. Another where All Might teams up with the Avengers? Why not? He toyed with the boundaries, ensuring that no one hero or villain would ever suspect his hand in their story.

He noticed the development of "bad guy" routes universes where heroes fall and villains thrive. Instead of intervening directly, R.O.B. subtly balanced these with hopeful outcomes elsewhere.

"Let them think it's all fate or free will," R.O.B. said, leaning back with a satisfied grin. "As long as they don't figure out I'm the one writing the script, the fun can go on forever,"

still chuckling to himself, his cosmic popcorn bucket nearly empty. "This multiverse stuff never gets old… okay, maybe it does, but only until something shiny catches my eye."

He waved a hand, and the glowing branches of countless universes zoomed into view. Each one shimmered with unique energy, representing different forms of creative expression.

"Let's see…" He squinted at a particularly energetic cluster. "What's this now? Death Battle? Oh-ho-ho, now that's spicy. Throwing characters into arenas to duke it out without context? Genius! Who doesn't love a good 'What if Superman fought Goku' brawl?"

With a flick of his wrist, he skimmed through countless versions of these clashes. He watched as universes subtly shifted to accommodate these speculative matches, though the characters within remained blissfully unaware of their origin.

"And what's this? Reaction stories?" R.O.B.'s brow lifted. He zoomed in on universes where characters suddenly found themselves seated in a room, watching dramatized versions of their lives or even alternate fates. "They're reacting to their own nonsense? That's meta even for me. I love it!"

As he continued scanning, his gaze landed on an unexpected outlier a new concept forming at the edge of the sub-prime cluster.

As R.O.B. zoomed in on the sparkling cluster of universes, he immediately noticed a pattern: glowing individuals flying on swords, punching mountains, and shouting about defying the heavens.

"Alright, what is this chaos?" R.O.B. muttered, tilting his head. He watched as one character declared, "You dare stand before me? You're courting death!"

R.O.B. flinched. "Yikes. Someone's dramatic. Let's call this... uh, the 'Climb-the-Ladder-to-Godhood Cluster.' Nah, too wordy. How about... the Arrogant Ascension Multiverse? Yeah, that's better."

He studied the worlds, where everything revolved around cultivation levels, ancient treasures, and people who would literally fight over a blade of grass if it was labeled "heavenly."

"It's like they've turned the cosmos into one big ego contest," R.O.B. said, twirling a finger as universes zoomed past. "Props for creativity, though. Everyone wants to be a god, and they're willing to turn entire mountains into rubble to get there."

Then, his cosmic senses noticed something odd. The energy from these universes was unusually dense, surging and pooling at alarming rates.

"Hmm," R.O.B. said, rubbing his chin. "This much energy… and for what? To see who can glow the brightest? No, no, this won't do."

He snapped his fingers, and the cultivation universes shifted. Without their inhabitants realizing it, all the spiritual energy, divine Qi, and breakthroughs now funneled into a massive cosmic battery hidden deep in the multiverse.

"They can keep climbing their little ladders to godhood," R.O.B. said with a mischievous grin. "Meanwhile, I'll use their energy to power the rest of the multiverse. Call it poetic justice."

He leaned back, satisfied, watching as the cultivators continued their endless battles, blissfully unaware of their new purpose.

Just as he finished tweaking the Arrogant Ascension Multiverse, another sparkling cluster caught his eye. This one was... different.

"What's this?" R.O.B. muttered, zooming in. He watched as a scrappy teenager dodged an attack, and a glowing interface appeared before his eyes:

Level Up! New Skill Unlocked: Fireball!

R.O.B.'s eyebrows shot up. "Wait a second. Did someone turn life into a video game? That's brilliant! Let's call this... the Playerverse."

As he explored, he noticed how these universes revolved around gamer mechanics: characters leveled up, gained experience points, and unlocked new abilities. One guy even had an inventory full of absurd items, including a sword made of spaghetti.

"Alright, this is gold," R.O.B. said, clapping his hands. "Who doesn't love a good grind to godhood?"

Then his gaze shifted to another curious cluster nearby. Here, he saw a fisherman casting his line into an ordinary-looking pond. When he reeled it back, a glowing sword emerged, humming with power.

R.O.B. burst out laughing. "A fishing system? They're fishing for treasures from other dimensions? Oh, this I have to mess with."

He tweaked the fishing universes, adding some spice: ponds that connected to alternate realities, lakes that hid fragments of lost histories, and rivers that occasionally spat back fish capable of granting wishes.

As he watched the Playerverse and Fishing Multiverse thrive, R.O.B. had a devilish idea.

"What happens if I combine these?"

He snapped his fingers, merging universes experimentally. In one, a gamer found himself fishing for loot, accidentally pulling a cultivation manual from another dimension. In another, a fisherman reeled in an inventory slot upgrade that let him carry a literal mountain.

R.O.B. cackled. "Perfect. Now this is how you keep things interesting."

As R.O.B. watched the chaos of his merged universes, he noticed something peculiar. The combination of fishing for loot and gamer-style upgrades had sparked the creation of an entirely new multiverse, separate from the Playerverse and Fishing Multiverse.

The Gacha Multiverse.

R.O.B. leaned forward, intrigued. "Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

The Gacha Multiverse was unlike anything he'd seen before. Its inhabitants didn't simply acquire loot they summoned it, spun for it, or unlocked it through elaborate mechanisms. Treasure chests, glowing wheels, shimmering cards, and even mysterious vending machines filled this realm, each promising something extraordinary but never guaranteeing it.

"Ah, randomness incarnate," R.O.B. muttered, a grin spreading across his face. "A universe where effort doesn't always equal reward, and luck rules all. Truly... diabolical."

He swiped through the new branches of this multiverse, observing their unique quirks.

---

GACHA SCENARIO UNIVERSE #1 FROM GACHA MULTIVERSE.

In one branch, a young hero stood in front of a colossal wheel of fortune. They placed their last coin into the slot, hands trembling as the wheel spun. Around them, the crowd held their breath.

"C'mon... give me the Divine Phoenix Blade!" the hero muttered.

The wheel slowed, clicking past powerful weapons and rare treasures, before finally landing on... a moldy shoe.

The crowd groaned in disappointment as the hero's shoulders slumped.

Somewhere else, in a more fortunate timeline, a fisherman cast their line into a tranquil lake. Instead of a fish, they reeled in a glowing orb that burst into light, transforming into an entire castle that hovered above the water.

"Jackpot!" they exclaimed, dancing with joy.

----

R.O.B. chuckled. "This is beautiful. They'll keep trying, chasing that high, no matter how many moldy shoes they pull."

As he explored the Gacha Multiverse further, R.O.B. noticed its infinite adaptability. In some universes, people summoned legendary creatures from cards or orbs. In others, they received upgrades for their abilities, their homes, or even their fashion. One particularly chaotic realm saw people gacha-pulling for food, sometimes ending up with a feast, and other times... a single stale cracker.

But the best part? The Gacha Multiverse didn't need constant intervention. Its very nature created endless stories of triumph and despair, comedy and drama, all driven by chance.

---

R.O.B. leaned back in his throne, watching as the Gacha Multiverse thrived. "This is it," he said with a satisfied sigh. "The pinnacle of cosmic chaos. And the best part? They think it's all just luck."

He snapped his fingers, letting the Gacha Multiverse expand freely. Somewhere, in countless branches, people cheered, cursed, and cried over their latest pulls, blissfully unaware of the mastermind behind it all.

During the time he was playing against the clipboard in dice.....

2 MINUTES later... While losing TO THE CLIPBOARD....

R.O.B. leaned back, with his arms cross and grumpy, in his throne, spinning a golden cosmic die between his fingers. The multiverse around him buzzed with the usual hum of existence worlds being born, others collapsing, and countless characters living their chaotic little lives. But none of it was holding his attention anymore. Other than glaring at the clipboard.

"I'm bored again," he muttered, flipping the die lazily into the air. It spun in slow motion, catching glimmers of light from every possible dimension and then he had an idea and he smiled mischievously. "Time for a random pick."

He gave it a flick, sending the die tumbling through the cosmic void. Numbers flashed 1, 42, 777, infinity before finally landing on a seemingly unremarkable figure: Nathan, an inhabitant of a sub-canon universe.

R.O.B. squinted at the result, then shrugged. "Why not? Let's see what this guy's about."

R.O.B. zoomed into Nathan's life, observing the young man quietly going about his mundane day. It was as unremarkable as it could get wake up, work, eat, repeat. There wasn't even a hint of world-ending drama or latent hero potential.

"Hmm… not exactly protagonist material, are you?" R.O.B. mused, stroking his chin. "But that's where the fun comes in. Let's give you a push."

He reclined back, pulling inspiration from his mental archive of countless multiversal concepts. His gaze lingered on an idea planted by an obscure author named Shane_Town something about TV and movie world hopping.

"That's a solid foundation," R.O.B. said. With a snap of his fingers, R.O.B. conjured a sleek, black device. It hummed with energy, its surface etched with swirling cosmic patterns. This wasn't just a tool for hopping through TV and movie worlds; it was a gateway to anything Nathan's imagination could dream of, with a few built-in surprises to keep things interesting.

He grinned, tossing the device into the air. It floated for a moment before zipping off to the delivery station in the corner of his office.

R.O.B. stood, brushing off his jacket, and stepped through a shimmering portal into Nathan's universe. It was nighttime, and the streets were quiet. He appeared in front of Nathan's modest apartment, the faint glow of the city casting shadows along the walls.

Carrying the device, now neatly packaged in an unassuming cardboard box, R.O.B. approached Nathan's door. He gave it a firm knock, then placed the package on the doorstep.

"Knock, knock, delivery from the cosmos," he muttered, a mischievous grin on his face. "Have fun, kid."

Before anyone could answer the door, R.O.B. vanished into the void, leaving only the package behind.

"For your entertainment and mine."

Satisfied, R.O.B. returned to his throne, eager to see what chaos would unfold.

"Let's see what you do with this, Nathan," he said, reclining once more. "The ball's in your court now."

R.O.B. slumped back into his floating throne, a satisfied grin stretching across his face. "Ah, the thrill of meddling. Nothing quite like it to break the monotony."

He rested his hands behind his head, glancing at the infinite canvas of universes he'd just tweaked. "I mean, honestly, how many times have I leaned back in this throne, pondering the next grand twist for the multiverse?"

At that moment, the cosmic clipboard floated up beside him, its pen scratching furiously on the surface.

"Number of throne leans: 42,763."

R.O.B. froze, staring at the clipboard. Then he chuckled. "You'd think I'd be tired of that by now. Guess some habits die hard."

He leaned back just a little more, grinning as the clipboard preemptively added another tick to the count.

"42,764."

"Smartass," he muttered, giving the clipboard a playful shove before reclining fully. "Alright, Nathan. Let's see what you do with your new toy. Don't disappoint me or do. Either way, I'll be entertained."

And with that, R.O.B. closed his eyes, letting the hum of the multiverse lull him into another cycle of cosmic scheming.