"Alephs... to put it simply... are observers."
"Observers..."
Vanitas slowly narrowed his eyes after repeating the word.
"Humanity has always assud the universe revolves around itself," Fyodor said. "That gods watches over them. That devils tempt them. That fate itself sohow concerns their existence."
His smile widened slightly.
"But Alephs are different."
"...."
"They do not love humanity. They do not hate humanity. They do not govern morality, justice, or evil."
Fyodor’s gaze slowly drifted upward.
"They simply observe."
"...."
"As civilizations rise and collapse... they observe."
"...."
"As species evolve and go extinct... they observe."
"...."
"As wars, suffering, revolutions, and extinctions occur across countless worlds... they observe."
"...."
"They exist beyond the frawork humanity understands as individuality," Fyodor continued. "To creatures like them, the lifespan of civilizations is no more significant than watching rain fall before disappearing again."
"...Then why do they interfere at all?"
Fyodor chuckled. "Because observation itself creates influence. Reality cannot properly withstand being perceived by sothing existing on the scale of an Aleph."
His fingers lightly tapped against the table.
"The mont an Aleph begins paying attention to a world, that world itself gradually starts changing in response."
Vanitas narrowed his eyes. "And Araxys?"
"Araxys... is the final vestige protecting our existence."
"....’
"As long as Araxys remains sealed, the Alephs cannot fully descend into our reality," Fyodor continued. "But that does not an they aren’t trying."
His erald-green eyes narrowed.
"Ezra Kaelus is the pri example of that."
"...Ezra?" Irritation surfaced across Vanitas’s face. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Instead of answering directly, Fyodor casually posed another question.
"What exactly do you know about stigmatas?"
Vanitas answered imdiately. "They’re manifestations of the human soul."
"Correct."
Fyodor slowly leaned forward afterward.
"Now think carefully," he continued. "A stigmata capable of granting access to dark magic. What conclusion does that naturally lead you toward?"
Vanitas fell silent for a brief mont.
Then, eventually, he ca to a conclusion.
"...The human soul itself is connected to dark magic."
Fyodor smiled. "Exactly."
The room gradually fell silent once more afterward.
"And Ezra Kaelus," Fyodor continued, "is the result of an Aleph’s influence upon civilization."
"...."
"He is an anchor."
"...."
"A living breach that will eventually tear open Araxys’s veil completely once the conditions are t."
The explanation itself sounded absurd.
And yet, Vanitas imdiately understood Fyodor was being entirely serious.
"Once that happens," Fyodor continued, "the boundary separating our reality from the Alephs will finally break."
His expression gradually lost its amusent.
"And by then... civilization itself will be consud."
Vanitas remained completely silent afterward.
Then, eventually, he spoke again.
"And the reason we’re bringing Araxys back..."
Fyodor imdiately smiled.
"Because Araxys is the answer."
"...."
"As long as Araxys remains absent from this world, civilization is dood eventually, regardless of what path it takes. War, politics, social reform, technological advancent... none of those things matter in the grand sche of existence once the Alephs fully breach reality."
"...."
"What humanity truly needs is an overseer."
"...."
"An existence powerful enough to stand between civilization and the things beyond the veil."
Fyodor slowly swung his legs, dangling cheerfully like a little girl.
Vanitas quietly processed everything Fyodor had explained so far.
The scale of it all was so absurdly beyond ordinary human logic that even soone like Vanitas needed ti to properly organize the information in his head.
Then, eventually, he finally spoke.
"You keep saying Araxys exists for the sake of humanity," Vanitas said. "But from everything I’ve seen so far... the mont Araxys descends into this world, wouldn’t that itself beco humanity’s destruction?"
He tilted his head.
"Isn’t Araxys itself the very thing trying to harm humanity in the first place?"
Fyodor imdiately smiled afterward. "You’re still misunderstanding the point."
His tone remained strangely calm despite the conversation.
"Araxys does not exist for humanity’s sake," Fyodor continued. "It exists for the preservation of civilization itself."
Vanitas remained silent.
"What value does one era’s destruction truly hold," Fyodor asked, "if Araxys simply rebuilds civilization afterward?"
The room gradually fell silent once more.
"To creatures like us, extinction sounds terrifying because humans are obsessed with individuality and continuity," Fyodor continued. "You fear death because you perceive existence linearly. One life. One history. One civilization."
His erald-green eyes glead.
"But from Araxys’s perspective... civilization is cyclical."
"...."
"When corruption, stagnation, division, and instability reach a certain threshold, destruction becos inevitable regardless," Fyodor explained. "Empires fall. Species disappear. Entire worlds decay under their own contradictions."
"...."
"Araxys simply accelerates the process."
"...."
"And afterward, it rebuilds everything again. Civilization repeats. The cycle begins anew. All so existence itself will never be completely consud by the Alephs."
The explanation itself sounded horrifyingly detached.
Vanitas slowly leaned back into his chair afterward.
"So humanity becos livestock for so cosmic gardener?"
Fyodor chuckled. "That’s a very human interpretation of it."
"And what exactly would you call it?"
Fyodor’s smile widened. "Maintenance."
Silence briefly filled the room afterward.
The answer itself was disturbingly simple.
To humanity, entire civilizations being destroyed and rebuilt sounded like an unimaginable catastrophe.
Yet, to sothing existing on the scale of Araxys, civilizations themselves were apparently no more significant than systems requiring periodic collapse in order to prevent sothing even worse from occurring beyond the veil.
Then, eventually, Fyodor spoke again.
"Do you understand now, Vanitas Astrea?"
His erald-green eyes remained fixed upon him.
"The mont humanity surpasses a certain threshold in terms of cosmic influence and power, the Alephs will finally be capable of freely consuming our reality after humanity breaches the upper realm."
"...."
"Humanity was never ant to advance infinitely," Fyodor continued calmly. "Because the mont humanity reaches the point where it begins touching the frawork beyond reality itself... the Alephs will notice us completely."
The room gradually fell silent afterward.
"And ironically enough... the kind of power humanity must never reach... is the exact kind of power you’re currently trying to attain."
"So what exactly are you trying to say?" Vanitas’s athyst eyes slowly narrowed. "That I should simply die?"
Fyodor imdiately shook his head afterward.
"That’s not the case at all. Because from where I’m standing, you are Araxys’s true ssenger. Not ."
"...."
"You arrived at these conclusions on your own," Fyodor continued. "You observed humanity, its systems, its endless cycles of corruption and suffering. Yet sohow, you still arrived at the exact sa answer Araxys itself represents."
Every word Fyodor spoke sounded disturbingly calm.
"And I believe that is why Araxys chose you."
Vanitas stared at him. "So what exactly have you been doing this entire ti?"
"Deluding myself."
"...."
"I spent centuries believing I was the one chosen to carry out Araxys’s will. I convinced myself I was the shepherd guiding humanity toward salvation."
His gaze slowly lowered.
"But the longer I watched you... the more I realized the truth."
"...."
"All this ti, I was never the main actor."
"...."
"I was rely the one preparing the stage, paving the road that eventually lead toward you."
"...."
"And honestly?" Fyodor chuckled. "That realization was deeply humiliating at first."
His fingers lightly tapped against the table. Once, twice, then thrice. Tap. Tap. Tap.
"To devote centuries of existence toward what you believed was your divine purpose... only to eventually realize you were rely preparing the world for soone else."
For an existence like Fyodor, who had spent centuries manipulating civilizations, establishing cults, breaking seals, and pursuing Araxys’s descent with near religious obsession, accepting that he himself may have rely been a stepping stone for another person was heartbreaking.
And yet, Fyodor no longer seed particularly bothered by it anymore.
"But ultimately, it doesn’t really matter."
The tapping of his fingers finally stopped.
"Because regardless of who was chosen first... we are still walking toward the exact sa destination."
The two continued speaking for quite a long while afterward until, eventually, Vanitas suddenly realized sothing.
"...Where’s Kafka?"
"I put him to sleep. The boy exhausted himself after everything we forced him through today. It’s impressive he stayed conscious as long as he did."
"Ah."
"Should I wake him up?"
"There’s not much ti left."
The mont those words left Vanitas’s mouth, Fyodor’s expression shifted.
"...Because you’re dying?"
Vanitas did not avoid the question.
Nor did he attempt to soften the answer.
"Because I am dying."
* * *
It was complete chaos.
Whatever restraint once existed within Aetherion had long since disappeared the mont Franz Barielle Aetherion fell from the Imperial Palace and Vanitas Astrea crowned himself Emperor before the eyes of the entire nation.
The balance that had barely maintained order throughout the Empire finally shattered completely, leaving behind only fear, panic, rage, and desperation spreading throughout the capital like wildfire.
Forr revolutionary factions that once despised one another were now beginning to reach out across ideological lines in a desperate attempt to salvage their situation.
Groups that had previously spent years competing for influence, territory, or political legitimacy suddenly realized that none of those differences mattered anymore under the shadow now looming over Aetherion.
Flags rose throughout the streets.
Barricades were constructed overnight.
Entire districts were set ablaze as riots continued spreading from one side of the capital to the other.
And perhaps most importantly, after hearing what the Imperial Princess Irene had attempted to do inside the palace itself, many felt sothing ignite within their hearts once more.
Hope.
Or perhaps sothing closer to desperation disguised as hope.
Because, regardless of whether her rebellion ultimately failed, Irene had still done sothing most people throughout the Empire no longer believed possible.
She stood against Vanitas Astrea.
And that single act alone beca enough to inspire countless others to rise afterward.
Gone was the fear that had once forced people into silence.
Or rather, people had simply beco more afraid of the future now awaiting them than they were of death itself.
The citizens of Aetherion understood exactly what Vanitas Astrea’s coronation truly represented.
This was no ordinary political transition, nor was it so legitimate succession acknowledged by the Empire’s laws and traditions. It was a coup in its purest form.
The Emperor had been murdered publicly before the eyes of the nation itself, and the man responsible had imdiately seated himself upon the throne without even attempting to disguise what he had done.
And yet, the situation was far more complicated than simple outrage.
Many throughout the Empire genuinely despised Franz Barielle Aetherion. His rule had long since pushed Aetherion toward instability, oppression, and fear, to the point that countless citizens secretly celebrated hearing the tyrant had finally been overthrown.
But the problem was... the one who replaced him was Vanitas Astrea.
It felt as though a monster had rely been replaced by sothing worse.
A tyrant replaced by a demon.
A demon replaced by the devil himself.
That was the feeling spreading throughout the Empire now.
To many, it genuinely felt like the beginning of the end.
Across neighboring nations, kingdoms, and military powers, the news of Franz Barielle Aetherion’s assassination and Vanitas’s coronation spread quickly, sending entire governnts into panic as they struggled to decide how to respond.
Within the Zyphran Dominion, the atmosphere was no different.
"I told them not to send soldiers..."
Admiral Julius Schneider gripped the edge of the table tightly while speaking.
"I told them exactly what happened at sea... I warned them there was no point in trying to confront Vanitas Astrea directly..."
For perhaps the first ti in many years, genuine panic could clearly be seen across the face of the legendary admiral.
anwhile, standing across from him, the Führer’s expression had gone into outrage.
"You’ve grown senile, Schneider," the Führer spat coldly. "What happened to the man you once were?!"
The pressure throughout the room imdiately intensified.
"You slaughtered countless abominations lurking under the ocean without hesitation," he continued. "Yet now you tremble before a single human being?!"
"That man is no human...!"
Julius’s voice imdiately echoed throughout the room.
The outburst itself briefly silenced everyone present.
Because, unlike the others gathered there, Julius Schneider had actually witnessed Vanitas Astrea’s overwhelming monstrosity firsthand.
And that experience had fundantally changed him.
"Don’t you understand?!" Julius continued through gritted teeth. "The Vanitas Astrea you’re imagining and the one I saw are two different things!"
The Führer only scoffed in response.
"No, Schneider. You simply lost your nerve."
He stepped closer afterward.
"This is an opportunity. Unlike that battle at sea, this ti we are not alone. Aetherion’s revolutionary factions are rising. The Sanctis Theocracy has already begun mobilizing. The Celestine Hegemony has agreed to cooperate."
"...."
"Hell, even the Coalition has decided to join hands in stopping that tyrant."
Julius slowly lowered his gaze afterward.
"...That is not cooperation. That... is multiple nations walking willingly toward their own deaths."
For several monts, nobody spoke.
Even the Führer himself understood sothing terrifying. Julius Schneider was not a coward.
If a man like him was speaking this fearfully about Vanitas Astrea, then perhaps the situation truly was far worse than anyone wanted to admit.
"This is disappointing coming from you, Admiral."
At that mont, another voice suddenly echoed throughout the war room.
Everyone imdiately turned toward its source.
It was Vice-Admiral Iridelle Vermillion.
Following the incident at sea, many had expected catastrophic casualties amongst the Dominion’s forces. Yet surprisingly, almost everyone had survived that encounter with Vanitas Astrea.
And ever since then, even Iridelle herself had remained deeply conflicted over one question.
Why had Vanitas spared them?
The thought had continued lingering within her mind ever since that battle ended. A man powerful enough to annihilate their entire fleet had deliberately chosen not to finish them off despite holding absolute advantage over everyone present.
It made no sense.
And perhaps that uncertainty itself disturbed her more than the battle ever had.
Nevertheless, regardless of Vanitas Astrea’s intentions, Iridelle still understood what had to be done.
"Unlike you," she continued, "I fought that man personally and lost."
"...."
"I suffered a humiliating defeat that I otherwise would never have experienced in my entire life."
The atmosphere throughout the room gradually beca heavier.
"But... I refuse to lose a second ti."
"Vice-Admiral Vermillion..." Julius muttered.
Iridelle ignored him entirely.
"The Führer is correct," she continued. "This may very well be our only opportunity to defeat that monster before he becos sothing even worse."
Vanitas Astrea was already terrifying enough in his current state. Yet after openly seizing control of Aetherion and plunging the Empire into chaos, nobody could confidently predict how much further his influence and power might continue growing if left unchecked.
"If we allow him more ti," Iridelle continued, "then eventually there may no longer exist anyone capable of standing against him at all."
Her gaze slowly shifted toward Julius afterward.
"I understand your fear, Admiral. Because I felt it too during that battle at sea. That overwhelming pressure... the feeling that no matter what you did, victory was fundantally impossible."
Even now, rely recalling that encounter caused a chill to run down her spine.
"But fear alone cannot dictate the future of humanity."
"...."
"Because if everyone simply gives up the mont sothing terrifying appears... then humanity deserves extinction."
"Well said, Iridelle."
At that mont, yet another voice suddenly echoed throughout the war room.
Everyone imdiately turned toward the source.
Standing near the entrance with his arms crossed was another mber of the Great Powers, Hughes Bolton.
Unlike Julius Schneider, whose expression was filled with visible dread, or Iridelle Vermillion, whose fear had hardened into resolve, Hughes Bolton looked almost irritated more than anything else.
"Bolton?"
The Führer visibly frowned.
Hughes rely scoffed afterward.
"I warned all of you from the very beginning," he said, facing Iridelle. "Yet every single one of you chose to undermine while listening to Vanitas Astrea instead."
His gaze swept throughout the room.
"And now look where that’s gotten us."
Amongst the Great Powers, Hughes Bolton had been the only individual who openly antagonized Vanitas Astrea from the very start.
While others hesitated, observed, negotiated, or attempted to understand him, Hughes consistently insisted that Vanitas represented a threat that needed to be eliminated imdiately before it escalated beyond control.
But not a single one of the Great Powers truly listened to him.
"...I apologize."
Surprisingly, the one who spoke was Iridelle.
Hughes glanced toward her before letting out a sigh through his nose.
"I don’t need your apology," he answered. "Because fundantally... even I was wrong."
"...."
"That day, during the battle at the cathedral against the cult leader... I witnessed it myself."
The mory alone visibly caused his expression to darken.
"That day, every single one of us was supposed to die, Iridelle. But the reason we’re all still alive right now... is because of Vanitas Astrea."
"...."
For several monts, nobody spoke.
Then, eventually, Iridelle opened her mouth.
"Are you serious?"
Whispers imdiately began spreading throughout the room afterward.
"I know exactly what I saw," Hughes Bolton said. "And I know exactly what I heard. That’s why... I am completely baffled by that man. One mont, he saves people. The next, he commits atrocities that plunge entire nations into chaos."
"...."
"I have fought monsters before."
"...."
"I have fought tyrants before."
"...."
"But never... and I repeat never... have I encountered soone as fundantally unpredictable as Vanitas Astrea..."
Silence imdiately overtook the entire room afterward.
Nothing about that man followed ordinary logic anymore.
Every attempt to categorize him as either a tyrant, revolutionary, savior, monster, patriot, or madman inevitably failed because sohow, Vanitas Astrea appeared to embody all of those contradictions simultaneously.
And perhaps that uncertainty itself was what made him truly terrifying.
Hughes spoke again.
"That’s why... strange as this may sound..."
He slowly turned his gaze toward Iridelle.
"...I don’t think we’re actually going to defeat him."
"...."
"...He’s going to let us win."
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