The Egoverse held its breath.
The forge of Diligence was quiet. The lantern of Charity glowed steadily. The feather of Temperance hovered above the Throne Eternal, unmoved by wind or will.
Then came Chastity.
She did not descend in light.
She walked in silence.
Her robes were translucent—woven from restraint, stitched with clarity, hemmed in discipline. Her eyes did not burn. They purified. Her presence did not command. It clarified.
She carried no weapon.
She carried a veil.
Not to conceal.
To reveal.
Pride rose.
Chastity stepped forward, her gaze unwavering.
"You have remembered," she said. "You have healed. You have endured. You have given. You have built. You have balanced."
She raised the veil.
"But can you desire without possession?"
Pride did not answer.
The sins stirred—Lust's echo shimmered, Greed's hunger twitched, Envy's mimicry flickered. Not in rebellion. In reminder.
Chastity placed the veil in Pride's hands.
"You must wear this," she said. "Not to hide. To walk through longing without claiming."
Pride draped the veil across his shoulders.
And the Egoverse shifted.
Desires surged—not for power, but for connection. For intimacy. For recognition. For love.
Pride felt them.
But did not grasp.
He walked through them.
And they softened.
Not because they were denied.
Because they were refined.
Chastity smiled.
"You are ready."
She turned, leaving behind a single crystal—clear, uncut, untouched.
It hovered above the Throne Eternal, not as purity, but as intention.
A reminder:
To desire is human. To refine is divine.