Meanwhile, Theodore, who was battling against the dimension of perception, could feel his pathway to his perception clearing itself.
As an aftereffect, space-time and foundational particles were stabilizing.
"Huh? Did her thoughts bleed into it? She opened another exceeding dimension? Space-time is neutralizing foundational particles with Trigger Gates and Dimensional Seals… Driti… Don't go this far."
He dived deeper, searching for it, then suddenly a wave of silence passed through his existence, pausing him.
He phased through the self-induced manifestation of his own perceptions.
There he found it, the speck of perception-based memory of someone.
"I got it…" he said in a victorious exhale. He inserted the memory into his mind and ran over the code…
"This… this shaking of dimensional code… no doubt."
He leaped back.
"Driti… you really risked your life to spawn two such forbidden dimensions… letting your space-time bind with your foundational particles to merge with the dimension of anticipation, generalizing with silence... marvelous!"
As Theodore was swimming back, a sudden holding of something against his oneness stopped him.
He could not see it, but then he realized the foundational particles had become unaligned and unregulated.
"Shit!" he screamed.
A sudden swoosh, a fist was thrown at him, breaching Theodore's oneness.
He was phased and mutilated.
In fact, the concept of mutilation was forced upon him. Then he looked up at who had done this, there she was, standing.
Her marvelously untied black hair flowed in aesthetic symphony.
Her arms and shoulders were wide and slightly athletically muscular, a toned physique symbolic of aesthetic corruption.
There was a feeling that the symbolism was failing to contain her essence.
It was none other than Driti herself, her eyes void representations, silence slurping through them to exit.
"Goddamn, the silence was from her? She did make me reach my objective, but it seems her dimensionality of silence took over her." he thought.
The realm of perception was not just expanding with his thought, but the self-exceeding infinities were weighing upon his unconsciousness.
Without hesitation, she paced against him, phasing through the collided dimensions and disregarding them, her arms raised and aiming straight at him.
Her fingers curved like claws; her unconscious existence shook the perception-based dimension, now filled with her corrupted foundational particle of dimensional silence.
This fused with the energy of actual instinctual thoughts of an unconsciousness that was more primitive than normal unconsciousness.
She started punching, without pulling any of her blows back.
Her fists themselves shook the collided dimensions, even surpassing the division of expansion of perception and anticipation.
Her blows were forceful beyond any qualitative limits, ontology, analogy, concept, framework, semantics, psychology, logic, qualitative mathematics, and quantum concepts and mechanism.
Restraining an exceeding factor controlled by her perception.
She decided for others those enriched, surpassing constrainers to make one's oneness feel her comprehension, twisting their perception and cognition based on her value beyond any self-abstract recognition point.
She stood above the manifestation of perception, a mere extraction of thoughts, not the true form of perception.
That perception shifted from white-grey circles into blood-dipped threads.
"I see!" Theodore sighed.
"Guess no choice for me… Not even by making absolute infinity-surpassing branches… I am sorry, Driti." he said.
He swayed his right arm and summoned a staff of dark matter to counter Driti's tiger claw technique.
A death blow to superiorly exceeding comprehension. The staff was known as the Void of Clarity.
He pushed it through her silence-filtrated oneness and swirled it out, erasing it from the form of 'existingin' her.
The Void of Clarity is pure nonexistence in any comprehension.
Even an exceeding factor, or comprehension or any superior qualitative exceeding, analogy, perception, framework, logic, ontology, psychology, epistemic, semantic, semiotic, and meaning, is nullified by the nonexistence '-ness' of the staff.
Theodore only uses this staff when out of incomprehensible options to solve a problem.
Driti lost her reason to move or blow at him.
She was about to fall, but Theodore caught her.
Then he noticed her half-torn clothes, from navel to lower body, were slowly tearing off by themselves, reducing to nonexistence.
He suddenly took off his T-shirt and tore it. The torn T-shirt morphed into pants, which he put on Driti, automatically covering her in the blink of a second.
The exterior selves of Theodore and Driti were unaware of what they had done. Suddenly, Driti became wobbly, feeling very low through her existence.
Theodore caught her before she fell. He looked at her, then down on himself.
"Driti…" he murmured.
"You pushed too far…" he acknowledged, not needing details of what exactly happened in their dimension-based perception bound to anticipation with fleeting unconsciousness, as it was unintelligible.
Driti opened her eyes to see a fan running above her.
She was lying in a cozy hospital-like room, warm and slightly lit.
Near her lay fruit and some clothes. She understood how Theodore had brought her clothes, as she looked at them and then looked at herself, surprisingly wearing decent pants.
Her half-torn kurta, barely covering her lower body, still clung to her hips and thighs.
Looking around, she saw a note:
"You are in an SCPO recovery sector. When you are recovered, if you feel so, please visit me in the hall. -Theodore."
She found the clothes he had brought her, unaware of their price as he had torn the price tags from every existence.
"You must have brought me something expensive…" she thought plaintively.
For a moment, she held the new clothes to her chest and felt their texture.
She wore them while recovering, slightly smiling.
She came out of the infirmary hall where many rooms were closed, and some were locked from the outside.
Observing this, she walked toward the hall, fixing her hair.
Tall and with slow strides, she found Theodore, sleeping on two chairs placed side by side. Suddenly he awoke, rubbing his eyes.
"Ah, it's nothing. I was just taking a nap…" He stood up.
"Shall we leave?" Theodore asked in a low tone, his baritone voice carrying through him.
She genuinely smiled. "Yes."
He smiled back, and they walked out of the center, which before her eyes compacted into layers of dimensions.
This was nothing new for her; she was already aware of such mechanisms.
"Driti, very thanks, you really did risk your sanity and existence for making me reach our objective, I owe you one…" Theodore brought this up slowly.
Driti looked at him and smiled, "Oh, thank you for the clothes and looking out for me, but it's nothing very big, I think, because you too did sacrifice yourself many times if I am not wrong?" she replied while walking with him, smiling.
"No, it's not like that. It's about your resolve to just not stand back when someone is in danger, and I bet even in your past, people who were around you must be grateful for that," Theodore said smiling.
However, Driti faked the smile; she couldn't relate to what he said.
Noticing this tension, Theodore added, "I don't know about others, but I am grateful because of you, well…" He looked at her.
"Let's have tea over there at the stall. Is that okay?" Theodore asked.
"Sure. Why not?" She agreed.
They walked up to the tea vendor.
Theodore bought two teas in traditional mud cups, then smiled at the vendor who smiled back.
She enjoyed the tea, sipping every sip of the tea. Along with the traditional touch, it was exquisite.
"This tea is good. Reminds me of how I was fond of them back then," she spoke in a low, clear voice.
Blurred memories flooded back, memories of the Darjeeling tea her mother made, wrapped for her to drink in a small cup which was slightly heated.
"Mothers make some good tea, right?" Theodore asked her.
Driti was suddenly surprised. "How do you know?" she asked.
He giggled, "It was a guess, nothing big, but my mom was fond of how I made tea for her. She always wanted me to make tea even when guests arrived." He replied.
"Poor she…" he added.
He put the tea cup on the bench and tucked a 500 rupees note within it. She saw that and left the stall with him.
Driti could feel the surprise of the tea vendor if he found the 500 rupees.
"He is selfless… Not once. If it was for someone, I might have been non-existent for again in this world," she thought deeply and silently.
They walked back to the bus stop, boarded the bus, and while watching the glowing city and the enriched, shiny moonlight, they reached their destination.