"She already told you about the Constant,"
"Then you already know enough."
I stiffened despite myself.
Of course, I was aware that Anathasia—no, Miss Anathasia was a different being entirely, but how did I not see the signs?
Her being the wielder of the Authorial Rule even before the Constant became whatever it became… her indifference about everything else, almost as if she was already above escalation, that pressure I felt when I first met her, the sinking feeling that she should never be opposed.
All pointed toward a single, unavoidable conclusion.
"Is that why the plane around her constantly seems to struggle to process her existence…?" I whispered, my gaze focusing on the countless Demiurgic Images beneath us.
Kagariel remained silent, observing the Images, while Roselia simply shrugged.
Then, Kagariel spoke.
"There."
He lowered one of his heads, leaning close to a specific Demiurgic Image.
"This one… it's destabilizing."
I immediately turned, swiping into empty space and opening a projection of the events unfolding within the Image.
"…What?"
Roselia leaned closer, arms crossed over her chest.
"Hoh… they're supposed to be sovereigns, and yet they're fighting over a position like mortals," she said, shrugging as she turned away.
"Power does corrupt, after all," Kagariel added, his heads continuing to observe the projection.
"Still…" I started, then fell silent.
They weren't wrong. For reasons I didn't fully understand, beings within the Demiurgic Images, and everything contained within them, behaved more like mortals. Power-hungry. Constantly contesting superiority.
Which was what separated Outer Gods like ourselves from their kind.
---
Within the Demiurge's Image
Within the endless expanse of a Demiurge's Image, countless multiverses once remained untouched.
Each multiverse floated aimlessly, like an atom suspended within a liquid.
However, what was once a self-sustaining, fluid structure had now collapsed into total chaos.
Multiversal bubbles crashed against one another, some integrating violently, others tearing apart at their boundaries.
Sovereigns were forced to abandon their own multiverses to avoid collision, while the rest…
Fought.
In a corner of the extraversal continuum, a collection of beings huddled together, bound by a tenuous agreement. Perhaps already forming their own plan.
One of them, Notchera, spoke.
"The Image has lost its ability to sustain itself," she said, each word reverberating through the spaces in between the bubbles. Her gaze remained distant as she watched the multiverses drift dangerously close.
"And that entails?" another voice asked, manifesting before her and the other sovereigns.
Notchera glanced briefly at the writhing figure, then returned her attention to the collapsing expanse.
"The Demiurgic Being is gone."
As the words left her lips, the three other sovereigns visibly shifted. Their forms stilled, the phrase echoing through their consciousness.
The Demiurgic Being is gone.
Notchera, on the other hand, turned her back to them.
"Therefore, if the position remains empty," she continued, "everything we know will collapse, until only one remains."
She glanced at them over her shoulder.
"And even then, that one would be reduced to fraying remnants of what once was."
The sovereigns remained silent, their forms unmoving even as the multiverses continued to grind against one another.
"We have only two options," Notchera said, turning to face them once more.
"We either delay our own unraveling and replace the Demiurgic Being—"
Her gaze hardened.
"Or we watch everything we know be reduced to cosmic dust."
Silence followed.
The sovereigns hesitated, their gazes drifting toward the multiverses beneath their feet, countless totalities on the brink of collapse.
Before any of them could speak, Notchera continued.
"The rest of the sovereigns will not accept this," she said calmly. "That is… acceptable."
Their eyes widened.
"That is not—!" one of them began, but Notchera spoke over him without pause.
"We will eradicate those who oppose us."
A small smile curved her lips as she spread her arms, as though presenting an inevitability rather than a threat.
"For the greater good—
and for our own survival."
They stared at her as if she was mad, except, their looks only seemed to make her conviction harden as she continued.
"A war is already unavoidable, so those who fall… why don't we use their residues as new materials for the next Demiurgic Being that are to replace the former with?"
Her suggestion only seemed to make the three other sovereigns hesitate. Silence fell once more, her words sinking in as her allies hesitated.
"You would… sacrifice an innumerable amount of lives," one of them spoke. A multiversal sovereign by the name Usi-tha.
"For that…?" he muttered, disbelief warring with the other's logic.
"Yes. As I have said. Take initiative and sacrifice, or remain idle and watch everything collapse."
Usi-tha's eyes widened as he stepped forward.
"Do you hear yourself, Notchera? Do you not consider—"
"I do. And?" she cut in, shutting him down while the other two sovereigns watched, unsure.
Notchera's gaze turned unreadable. Flat.
"I did consider the cost and the consequences. But tell me, Usi-tha. Do you truly believe we have any choices beyond what I've suggested and the alternative?"
Her words rang out. Usi-tha recoiled.
"Us sovereigns do not have the capacity to stabilize the Demiurge on our own. The minority have already started their own infighting the moment the Demiurgic Being vanished," she stepped forward, looming over the other.
"Do we not have the responsibility of keeping those under our jurisdiction safe and alive? I find it hard to believe how one such as yourself became a sovereign when you still hesitate despite the situation being dire."
The silence stretched between the four sovereigns, unbroken, oppressive.
It ended when Neighgratta stepped forward.
Neighgratta, the Time Sovereign.
She moved between them, unhurried.
"I believe Notchera has a point, Usi-tha."
She sighed, glancing at Rhetoma, the Sovereign of Space who pointed at himself in surprise, eyes wide.
Neighgratta inclined her head slightly, motioning for him to separate the two sovereigns.
Only after they were pulled apart did she speak again.
"Both positions are reasonable," she said, her voice measured.
She scanned the expanse around them, dozens of multiverses already colliding in the distance.
"But if we do not replace the Demiurgic Being soon, then we are not choosing between paths."
She turned back to the others.
"We are simply waiting for our own end."
Her gaze softened as it settled on Usi-tha.
"Your position is not wrong," she continued. "And I understand where you are coming from."
She cast a quick glance at Notchera before peering at the rest of the multiverse bubbles that had already started to crash and dissipate into residue beneath them.
"Notchera's method is far too brutal, but has the highest chance of success." she paused, lifting her gaze and meeting theirs.
"Time will not wait for us to decide. Every second we stall, lives are already being claimed."
"Therefore, the safest path we could take would be…" she trailed off, a hint of hesitation flickered on her face.
"To proceed with Notchera's method. As we no longer have the luxury to consider other options."