Chapter 28
"Declare to us—who?! Is there someone, some insolent being, attempting to drag us into the universe's memory?"
Suuuuuufh!
"Nothing more than mortal dregs. That unworthy child, Ush. And the entire family.
No remorse after the last of their blood flowed down the river of worship.
Then the fallen universe, long devoured by the Satanists and their vermin.
No need to remember, for those memories were cast aside, left to burn without salvation.
As commanded by the Almighty."
Uussshhh!
"Haaah … nothing remains but disgrace."
Struggling to remain calm, suppressing panic that threatened to shatter its clarity, Ophistu slowly rebuilt its consciousness, piecing awareness back into place.
The divine pulse within it steadied, sheathing its killer instincts in a threadbare veil of patience.
And with a thunderous snarl, not directed at anything visible, but at whatever audacious fool dared deceive the sacred, it demanded answers.
Yet its gaze, stripped of the authority to choose its own focus, was dragged unwillingly across visions it never sought.
First, it witnessed the mortal world, where Ush and its family had been slaughtered without resistance, by Ophistu's own decree.
Then the view shifted, revealing the grandeur of a once-majestic universe now overrun by Satanist forces, their roots digging deeper than the Tree of Life itself.
Next came the fracturing of space and time, not mere branching, but a wild, orchestrated germination where realities clawed at each other, competing, consuming, surpassing.
Each branch was alive, aware of its own nature, acknowledging its counterparts, whether conqueror or conquered, predator or prey.
But this was only the prelude.
For then, its vision locked onto a place of white.
Not blinding white, but a white that concealed existence itself.
A realm shrouded in alien stones, rough, yet formed from nothing any living thing would recognize.
Stones that predated creation, older than even the concept of the Accursed One's designs.
Here, there was no time, no desire, no law of cause and effect.
And thus, no interaction, no trace of communication, no presence of mortal worlds or the ruins where all things began, had ever touched this place.
Every effort by the Satanists, even their attempts to burn the castle, had not just failed, but never had a chance.
Their failure wasn't due to inability, but ignorance. They couldn't touch what was never meant to be touched.
And so, Ophistu finally understood.
Its gaze was now peering outward, toward the exterior of the castle where it stood. But from a vantage point beyond all reality, something was staring back through it.
'This white space within the castle .…
No need to ask where. It is no place reachable by prayer.
Not even the Satanists' so-called "Exalted Idiot" could grasp it, let alone care for the foolish warmth they cultivate.
Even the most superior mortal worlds, standing above other Satanist universes, are but specks in comparison.
Nothing begets nothing.
For this presence was inscribed before the beginning, older than creation, ancient beyond the concept of will itself.'
Here, the final chime struck, the prelude to something never before recorded in
Ophistu's existence, not even in its days as the pinnacle of glory among luminous beings.
Through its eyes and all its consciousness, chained to a single axis, unable to look away, Ophistu witnessed an impossible spectacle. Yet its presence was undeniable.
For the image etched before it, clear and irrefutable, was itself.
Its own form, standing atop the castle, viewed from the heavens above, as if some other gaze, impossibly high and vast and judging, observed it from absolute heights.
It could not turn away.
Could not move.
Its senses bound by rules set by an unknown force.
Trapped in monotony, confined to a single angle no will could reach. Yet curiosity, sharpened by Ophistu's razor-edged instincts, drove a decision.
To look closer.
Not physically (its body remained locked), but with mind, awareness, soul—pushing deeper into the vision imposed upon it.
It studied its own reflection from this inaccessible vantage, searching for proof that this was no illusion, no memory, no emotional snare.
This was real. A live broadcast of reality before its eyes.
Hufffffh!
'Setting aside praises to be uttered later... is that not the castle's interior?
I see it from outside—yet I stand within.
Exactly as I hover now.'
Hussssh!
'Is that truly me? Then why—why does it float so unsteadily?
Trembling without pause, shuddering beyond reason.
Since when do exalted angels behave so?
Not just "never"—this is impossible.
No observer, however keen-eyed, should witness this.'
"Is that not me—or is it?
What does this mean?"
Hufffh!
'Even my thoughts shudder. The shallowest depths of my being feel it.
This is no ailment. No sorcery.
This is erasure, something tearing my definition apart from within.'
The angel in the vision was Ophistu, but not whole, not calm as it knew itself.
This captured version floated unbalanced, jerking as if deprived of the axis that sustained its existence. Its body convulsed in constant tremors, rejecting the stillness that should have accompanied the castle's silence.
Yet the observer, Ophistu's own consciousness, locked in this fixed perspective, could not discern the cause.
No sound. No cues. Just fragments of reality displayed without narrative, like a moving painting needing no explanation.
No wind stirred. No visible threat loomed. No logical cause, nothing graspable by reason or intuition.
The tremors were rejection, a rebellion against equilibrium, or perhaps reflections of deeper fractures: silent, internal erosion, as if the world itself denied Ophistu's right to exist.
Meanwhile, the true Ophistu could only watch, imprisoned in helplessness, forced to confront its own image as the most absurd, most alien entity it had ever witnessed.
This phenomenon was no mere spectacle.
The Ophistu in the vision, shuddering violently, spasming beyond natural limits, was not just displaying bizarre symptoms. It was triggering consequences: profound, reaching into realms untouched by visible logic.
To be continued...