The clatter of keystrokes filled the chamber—rapid, sharp, unrelenting. The room was bathed in blinding white, its vast interior threaded with transparent conduits through which data visibly flowed. Within the cables, golden signals of irregular shapes pulsed and twisted, as though alive. The conduits were immense, meticulously arranged, stretching outward in disciplined order.
At their convergence stood the source: a colossal white machine. It loomed like a divine apparatus, less a construct and more an oracle—an all-seeing computer fashioned beyond human scale.
From the darkness of the corridor, the echo of iron footsteps emerged. Each step pressed softly against the pristine floor, its sound muted yet deliberate. The typing did not falter. It continued in relentless succession.
Before the towering machine sat a solitary figure clad entirely in silver, diminished by the overwhelming presence behind it. Etched clearly upon its back was a nine-star emblem, stark against the reflective metal.
The footsteps advanced, then slowed. From a distance, the iron figure observed the one consumed by the machine's interface. Finally, the steps came to a halt.
At that instant, the typing intensified—keys struck in rapid succession, almost frantic—before ending abruptly with a single, resounding keystroke that echoed through the white expanse.
She stood behind him.
She wore a fashionable blue dress adorned with thick, frilled layers, its elegance standing in quiet defiance of the sterile surroundings. Her hands were clasped neatly before her abdomen, posture composed and exact. Long hair flowed down her back, offsetting the muted pink beneath the heavier fabric.
One arm was unmistakably iron—humanoid in form, yet cold and mechanical. Her face mirrored the same metallic composition, eyes closed in stillness. Thin, straight grooves ran down her cheeks, like tears carved permanently into steel.
Without moving her lips, her voice resonated—calm, precise, devoid of emotion.
"Excuse me for interrupting you, Supreme Leader," she said.
"Do you have any further orders?"
The Supreme Leader rose from his elevated seat.
His appearance was that of a young man—white hair cropped short, bound loosely by a black cord circling his head. Golden eyes reflected no emotion as he descended, his movements unhurried and precise. Not a single word left his lips as he passed the iron puppet. He paused only briefly, just long enough for the silent command to be understood.
Follow.
Together, they exited the chamber of the colossal machine.
A world burned.
Its surface was no longer land, but a restless ocean of molten rock. Continents had collapsed into one another, their forms erased, their boundaries forgotten. There were no craters left to mark the fall of the meteor—no scars to explain the catastrophe. Only endless lava remained, glowing, churning, swallowing what little history the planet once possessed.
A sob carried through the scorched air.
"Everything is destroyed. Everything is gone… I can't bear to watch it all. Please… stop it all…"
The voice echoed faintly, swallowed by heat and distance. It felt far away—small against the scale of annihilation.
Then the image pulled back.
The burning world shrank, its horizon folding inward until it was no longer a world at all, but a projection—contained within a vast screen.
The retreat did not stop.
The screen became one among hundreds… thousands… their number stretching beyond counting. Each display showed the same planet from a different vantage point—sky, surface, orbit, deep mantle—every possible angle captured in relentless detail. Together, they formed a fractured panorama of destruction, a mosaic of endings observed from every conceivable eye.
This was not the machine chamber.
This was another room entirely.
Opposite the endless wall of screens, massive white structures spread across the chamber like roots of an ancient, impossible tree. They branched and intertwined from floor to ceiling, pulsing softly, as if alive—like a sacred forest grown not from soil, but from divinity itself.
Here, the sobbing was no longer distant.
It was close.
The cries of sorrow resonated through the room, no longer lost to scale or space. Whatever grieved for that dying world was here—present, unseen, breathing the same air.
From the shadowed corridor, footsteps emerged.
Two figures entered the chamber of screens.
The Supreme Leader continued forward, entering the immense hallway overtaken by these living, vine-like formations. His stride remained steady, unhesitating. The iron doll followed in silence.
At the end of the corridor stood a massive door.
Before crossing its threshold, the Supreme Leader spoke at last.
"Call Del here, Twirla."
"Yes, Supreme Leader Azniel," the iron doll replied.
Azniel stepped forward. The door responded immediately, parting without touch or sound. The iron doll followed, remaining just behind him as they passed beyond.
The chamber beyond was vast beyond measure. The white vines grew thicker here, swelling in size as they climbed and intertwined, their presence dominating the space. Beneath their reach lay a circular platform at the chamber's center, its surface carved with layered symbols and ancient markings. Around it rose a wall entirely wrapped in dense coils of living vine. Between the platform and that wall stretched a narrow, lightless gap—its depth unreadable, its purpose unknown.
The sound of crying was no longer distant.
It was here.
Beneath it pulsed another rhythm—a deep, resonant thud, slow and immense. A heartbeat. The vines responded to it in perfect unison, tightening and loosening as though they shared the same circulatory will.
The two figures came to a halt at the platform's center.
As they stood upon the carvings, Twirla inclined her head slightly and spoke, her voice carrying ceremonial clarity.
"Your savior and protector has arrived," she announced.
"The great Supreme Leader Azniel."
At the base of the surrounding wall, the vines thickened further, swelling and converging inward. They gathered relentlessly toward a single point, merging and shaping themselves into a colossal humanoid form fused to the wall itself. At its center burned a pulsating red crystal, embedded deep within its chest—each beat of light synchronized with the heartbeat that filled the chamber.
Azniel regarded it calmly.
"Let's continue discussing your earlier offer," he said evenly. Then, with a faint pause, "Ah—what was your name again? I seem to have forgotten."
At the sound of his voice, the chamber reacted.
White vines burst outward from every surface—walls, corridors, unseen recesses. Along each length, eyes formed and opened, their pupils glowing red. Thousands of them shifted and rolled, scanning the space with frantic intent.
At the creature's core, more eyes emerged—writhing, overlapping, forcing themselves into being. Its massive humanoid body convulsed as if seized by agony. Head-like structures twisted and distorted, and irregular eyes surfaced across its form without pattern or symmetry.
In that instant, countless voices cried out together.
Grief, despair, terror—thousands of sorrowful sounds layered into a single overwhelming chorus.
Then—silence.
All voices ceased at once.
Every eye fixed itself upon Azniel… and Twirla.
Above the creature's forward form, something else manifested—an abstract presence rather than flesh. A single projection-like eye took shape in the air, immense and unblinking, its gaze locked directly onto them.
Twirla's voice cut cleanly through the stillness.
"Restate your final request."
Azniel raised a hand slightly.
"Relax, Twirla," he said calmly.
"It's rare to encounter a Supreme Being among the worlds we've repaired."
"I do not possess a name, my lord," the voice reverberated through the immense chamber, layered and echoing as though spoken from every surface at once.
Twirla turned her gaze toward the pulsating form. "I recall you claiming that you can perceive all events within this world."
She paused briefly, then added, "An All-Seeing Supreme Being."
Azniel inclined his head slightly, considering. "Yes. All-seeing… Hmm." A faint note of deliberation entered his voice. "Allseeing is unwieldy. For simplicity's sake, I shall call you Allsei."
The vines shuddered softly.
"Very well, my lord," Allsei replied. "I am deeply honored to receive such a beautiful name from you."
Before Azniel could respond, another voice cut through the stillness.
"E-excuse me… Is Lord Azniel here?"
The unfamiliar female voice echoed from beyond the chamber.
Twirla did not react.
Azniel did.
He turned toward the massive door, where a vague green silhouette lingered at a distance. "Del," he called. "Come here."
After confirming Azniel's presence, the figure hesitated—then stepped forward. She was slight in stature, her long green hair falling past her shoulders, yellow eyes reflecting unease. Her skin was entirely green, unmistakably inhuman. Thick brown armor encased her body, shaped like a fusion of mecha and valkyrie design—yet it was not metal. Bark, vines, and living plant matter formed its structure.
As Del approached Azniel and Twirla, the armor began to recede. Like retreating vines, it withdrew seamlessly into her body, dissolving into living matter and revealing her true form—plant-like flesh with wooden growths integrated naturally into her frame.
Del lowered her head. "What do you wish me to do now, my lord?" she asked nervously. "Absorb this being? If destruction is required, I believe Lady Twirla would suffice. Or perhaps—"
"Do not be arrogant, Del," Twirla cut in sharply. "And do not speculate on matters beyond your station. Such words are an insult to the Supreme Leader."
Del stiffened. "I—I'm sorry—"
"Enough," Azniel said calmly.
The tension broke instantly.
He returned his attention to Allsei. "Twirla has already calculated the probability of your existence here," he said evenly. "She understands the necessary causal paths that led to your presence. I wish to hear your account—everything that occurred, and why you seek this offer."
His golden eyes remained steady.
"It is not that we lack knowledge," Azniel continued. "We already know the outcome. But how you choose to speak, and what you choose to ask for, will influence my decision."
Allsei remained motionless.
"Yes, sir," the being replied.
Azniel turned slightly. "Del. Remember everything it says."
Del blinked, visibly unsettled. "E-Everything?"
Twirla's voice followed without hesitation. "Do as the Supreme Leader commands."
Del swallowed. "O-Okay… I'll do my best. Please don't punish me."
Silence reclaimed the chamber as all eyes—mechanical, and divine—awaited Allsei's words.
Allsei spoke again, its countless eyes dimming slightly.
"I am a native of this world," it said. "I was born blind. And when I was still human… my name was Allsei."
A pause followed.
"I did not intend to deceive you by claiming I had no name, my lord. I merely wished to honor you. Instead, you returned to me the very name I once bore."
A tremor rippled through the vines. "Please forgive my foolishness."
"In that darkness, I lived in great suffering—not because of unmet needs, but because of desire. I longed to see the world's beauty, as others spoke of it. That longing gnawed at me without end."
Its voice softened.
"Until one night, I could no longer endure it. I cursed the gods, the goddesses, the heavens themselves—any being I believed had condemned me to blindness."
"That is insolence," Twirla snapped. Her voice rang sharply through the chamber. "God creates nothing imperfect. Every flaw carries purpose, every hardship its hidden ease. Suffering exists to test faith and patience, so reward may follow. To blame God instead of understanding His design—how utterly foolish. Were it not for the Supreme Leader's presence, I would erase you from all possibilities right now!"
A quiet laugh escaped Azniel.
"Calm yourself, Twirla," he said lightly. "All creation is sinner. Let him speak. He has already paid the price for his defiance."
His gaze shifted briefly. "You are still listening, Del?"
Del stiffened. "Y-Yes, my lord! I am!"
"Good," Azniel said. "Continue, Allsei."
Allsei's voice lowered. "Forgive this wretched being, and allow me to finish what I began."
"That night, a figure appeared—vast and white. Its wings stretched across the sky, from horizon to horizon. Though I could not see, I knew its majesty. Somehow, I understood that those wings covered the heavens from east to west."
"I then heard a voice—not through my ears, but within my mind."
I hear your suffering, Allsei.
"In that instant, I knew. It was not a monster. Not a spirit. It was a god."
"I remained silent, yet the voice continued."
I can grant you the sight you desire—under conditions.
"Foolish as I was, I agreed without hesitation."
You will be given vision unlike any other. You wish to see everything in this world—then you shall. You will also be made immortal. But your body will no longer move.
Allsei's voice trembled.
"I asked, What value does a body have if I cannot see the world? I told it to take my body, if that was the price."
"The god accepted."
"When I awoke, I could see."
"Not one place. Not one moment. Everything."
"I saw the entire world at once."
A long pause followed.
"Then I wondered… where is my body?"
"I searched for it. I looked toward my home and saw only my family searching for me. I scoured the world, penetrating every place my vision could reach—but my body was nowhere."
"I gave up."
Silence pressed against the chamber.
"I saw everything this world contains," Allsei continued. "War. Murder. Death. Grief. Endless suffering. I once believed myself the most unfortunate of beings. I was wrong."
"This world is drowning in sorrow."
"To witness it all… without the ability to act… was torment beyond endurance. I cried. I begged. I groaned endlessly."
"I did not know when it would end."
"Until you arrived."
"When a presence entered this world, I detected something unfamiliar—a perspective beyond my comprehension. I had never attempted to see through it."
A pause.
"Forgive me, my lord… I violated your privacy."
"I saw through Del's eyes."
Del flinched.
"In doing so, I learned something terrifying," Allsei said. "There are beings I cannot observe. Eyes I cannot borrow. Souls beyond my reach."
"I cannot see through any of you."
"Except Del."
A faint tremor rippled through the red crystal.
"And through Del's vision… I finally learned the location of my own wretched body."
Its voice fell to a whisper.
"I cannot endure this suffering any longer."
"Please… allow me to atone for my sins."
Azniel regarded the vast form of vines and eyes in silence.
"But you understand this, Allsei," he said at last. "That world is already destroyed. Old souls must not stain a new, unblemished one. I cannot return you there."
His gaze shifted slightly. "Perhaps Twirla has a proposal."
Twirla inclined her head. "Permit me to speak, Supreme Leader. Supreme Beings are exceedingly rare. We seldom encounter specimens such as this." Her eyes glinted faintly. "How about placing them there?"
Azniel considered it. "That world?" he murmured. "The one we created?"
After a brief pause, he nodded. "Very well. That is acceptable."
Twirla turned toward Allsei. "A Supreme Being's soul is extraordinarily valuable. Given your desire to return to human form—even blind—we may allow you to reincarnate within our artificial world."
Azniel added evenly, "You will retain your memories. And that world is not unpleasant. Its system is well-structured. There are gods, goddesses, other supreme beings, miracles, and many races. Occasionally, even lost souls wander into it by mistake."
Allsei's crystal pulsed faintly. "This is the greatest mercy I have ever received," it said. "Thank you for granting the request of this sinful servant, my lord."
"Then it is decided," Azniel said. "Twirla, you will oversee the process."
"Yes, sir," Twirla replied. "Leave it to me."
Azniel turned and departed.
Del remained standing, glancing about uncertainly, unsure whether to follow or stay.
Azniel paused and looked back. "Come with me, Del."
Del hurried after him.
Beyond the massive gate, as they walked, Azniel spoke again. "You have a question, don't you?"
Del hesitated. "Isn't… reincarnating him a violation of our law, sir? All dead souls are meant to pass into the afterlife."
"That is correct," Azniel replied. "However, Allsei's soul is unstable. If it were to escape and re-emerge in an unknown world—one not of ours—it would cause complications."
They stopped before another chamber lined with screens, all still displaying the ruined planet.
"A Supreme Being's soul is deeply bound to nature," Azniel continued. "Our experimental world is not a natural one. It is designed to endure imbalance. That makes it suitable."
Del listened intently.
"He will not reincarnate as an immortal," Azniel said. "I expect he will live, struggle, and perhaps even become famous. History tends to favor such anomalies."
Del lowered her head. "Forgive me for asking so much, sir. I'm still new."
Azniel allowed a faint smile. "Everyone is, at first."
Del opened her mouth again. "But compared to—"
"Supreme Leader!"
A youthful male voice rang out.
From the far end of the chamber, three figures emerged.
On the right walked a tall man dressed neatly, bearing cat-like ears and black, coiled horns reminiscent of a ram.
At the center strode a cheerful elf, short in stature, his long bright-green hair swaying as he waved enthusiastically—the one who had called out.
On the left stood another tall young man clad in light iron-plated armor. His long hair was styled strangely, and his red eyes bore four pupils each.
Del stiffened and immediately hid behind Azniel.
Azniel raised an eyebrow. "Ellair. Daft. Xavelis."
Daft and Xavelis dropped to one knee the moment they reached him.
"Any further orders, sir?" Xavelis asked.
Ellair, however, had already spotted Del. "Ah! There you are!" he exclaimed. "I've got something to show you! I promise—it's even better than your current armor!"
Before Del could react, Ellair lifted her effortlessly and carried her away.
"W-Wait—!" Del reached out helplessly. "Help—"
They were already gone.
Azniel turned his attention to Daft, who remained kneeling in silence. Daft met his gaze without speaking.
"Nothing for now, Xavelis," Azniel said. "Return to headquarters with Ellair and Del. Daft and I still have matters to attend to."
"Yes, Supreme Leader," Xavelis replied.
Without rising, his form dispersed—dissolving into the air as though it had never been there.
Daft stood.
On the opposite side of the chamber, another metal doll appeared—this one dressed in yellow and purple frills, distinct from one before in both form and presence.
The three of them returned to the chamber of the giant machine.
The vast apparatus continued its operation without pause, white structures humming softly as data streamed through its countless conduits. Golden signals flowed in disciplined patterns, indifferent to the discussion unfolding beneath it.
Azniel observed the machine for a moment before speaking.
"This system has been altered," he said. "Raphael definitely modified it. Allsei's testimony confirms it. This is the work of angels."
Daft folded his arms, his voice steady yet cautious. "Supreme Leader… does this mean our work has been discovered? The Supreme Being functioned almost like a surveillance device. It felt as though Raphael could access him at any moment."
Twirla, now housed in a different doll body, responded coolly. "Del is likely part of the cause. She is still too inexperienced."
"Be patient," Azniel replied. "She is barely a week old, Twirla. We destroyed and reset that entire world merely to extract the essence of its World Tree."
Daft gave a short laugh. "I remember. That was the world where I defeated its strongest god—the one wielding lightning and a hammer."
Twirla's tone sharpened. "Is that something to boast about? I dispersed myself across nine sub-worlds. I fought everyone—humans, elves, dwarves, giants, ice-born, fire-born. None were spared."
"Enough," Azniel said mildly. "Our objective was never conquest."
He turned his gaze back to the machine. "The true goal is to purge that world of demonic influence. The demons attempted to open the Gates of Hell. Their interference destabilized the system, giving rise to gods and goddesses with unchecked power."
"I've already sealed those gates," Daft said simply.
"Good," Azniel replied. "AETERNA exists to restore balance. Remember that. To sever both angelic and demonic interference, connect the world to the original main system, and protect it from future contamination."
His voice grew firmer.
"We will not allow sacred worlds to be reduced to battlefields for higher beings."
"Yes, Supreme Leader," Daft and Twirla said in unison.
Azniel glanced toward Twirla. "And you—do not be too harsh on Del. She is still young. Your powers are similar. You are meant to complement one another, not compete. Do not fear being replaced."
Twirla bowed her head. "Yes, Supreme Leader. Forgive this servant."
Azniel paused, then asked casually, "Have either of you heard of Schrödinger's Cat? Or perhaps Bohr's Cat… Almanella's Rat… Reichtenstein's Rabbit?"
Daft and Twirla exchanged brief glances. "No, my lord."
"It was a thought experiment," Azniel explained. "An animal is placed inside a sealed box. If I ask whether it is alive or dead while the box remains unopened, what would your answer be, Twirla?"
"Fifty percent alive," Twirla replied at once. "Fifty percent dead."
"Correct," Azniel said. "But if I asked Del, she would say she doesn't know. Not until the box is opened. When it finally is, she would say, 'The rat is alive.'"
Azniel smiled faintly.
"Thousands of years later, you will remember that it was fifty percent alive and assume that outcome was true. Del, however, will remember it as one hundred percent alive."
He glanced between them.
"In short, your abilities are alike, yet opposite. You, Twirla, calculate and preserve uncertainty. Del calculates and preserves certainty. Both are equally vital."
Then, with a sideways glance at Daft, he added, "I would explain further, but I feel sorry for Daft. Look at him—his head is already smoking."
"If you're exhausted, you may return first, Daft," Twirla said flatly.
"No need," Azniel interrupted. "Let's all return to headquarters."
A pause.
"And party."
The three of them left the chamber together, the giant machine continuing its work in silence behind them.