Death.
What did it an to Uriel?
It ant nothing.
During his days in the ivory desert, at tis, he’d been faced with situations so dire he’d shown sothing close to fear of death.
And, for a ti, he’d thought that this was true. He’d thought that maybe he was beginning to desire life and its beauty.
He began to think that maybe his life could have a purpose and could be an experience worth enjoying. But that had changed.
No, it hadn’t changed. After he’d burned in the brazier, after he’d died again and again at the hand of the Regulator, he’d decided to stop lying to himself.
In the desert, with his body torn by chaotic aether and a gigantic wave looming over him, what he feared wasn’t death—it was helplessness.
When tied to the ruby monunt, wave after wave crashing into him, not once did he have a flicker of fear toward death. In fact, he’d welcod it. What he feared was the lack of options.
Even further back, during the Death Advent, as he pathetically fell to his knees and prayed to the gods to save him from his fate, what he feared wasn’t death.
The Ouroboros carved into his chest spoke it best. That broken circle he’d etched into his flesh as he cried on that day, full of sha and hate, represented it best.
He didn’t want to shatter fate—he wanted to make it aningless. He wanted his Will to have more weight than all of it.
He didn’t want power, immortality, or endless wisdom.
He wanted the ability to choose. But at the sa ti...he didn’t. Because he didn’t care enough about any of it.
It was quite paradoxical. The only true desire he had was the desire to be able to choose, but beside that, he also didn’t care enough about anything to truly pursue it.
If he gained the absolute ability to always choose and have his Will be unfettered...then what?
What aning would his life have then? For what greater purpose would he even need to choose? It was all utterly and absolutely aningless, and as hollow as he saw the world to be.
That was the sa thought that sparked his first path.
Regardless of what path he took, it would always end up being aningless and end in agony. It was all pointless.
And so, he didn’t care. He didn’t even know why he was standing here, rushing to go back to his group, rushing to ascend the spire, and rushing to find his grandmother.
Uriel truly...didn’t understand himself.
"..."
The thoughts flowed and clashed with no end in his mind, his Will flickering from nothingness to raging emotion and chaos, to absolute stillness and calm.
The Spire Spirit felt his Will wildly dance, like a flickering fla caught in a storm of wind and rain, fighting to stay ablaze as it sohow grew in size, torn in two opposing directions.
It was...fascinating.
"It’s fine," the Spire Spirit finally said. "I was rely curious."
"There is no need to tear your soul apart for answers you do not have, as unfortunate as that may be."
Its words woke Uriel out of his daze, and his expression, which had unknowingly twisted into a frown, eased. He nodded slightly, his gaze unreadable.
’Was that the Sin...or was that ?’ He paused. ’Or is there even a difference?’
He sighed.
"I welco you to the Spire of Forgotten Forgery," the Spire Spirit said with a smile, its blue eyes gently sparkling.
"As you ca from the Earth and were born from its flas, now you must ascend the skies to reach the heavens."
"Atop the Spire, there lie ancients who’ll lead you to whatever paradise you seek. But from here to them, there are nine floors, each with trials you must undo to step higher into the skies."
Uriel nodded. This he already knew thanks to Samael.
"I must thank you for undoing that foul formation. With it active, things may have been complicated, to say the least."
"It’s the least I can do," Uriel said simply. "Is there anything you can tell about the challenges? Or where the ancients can lead to?"
The Spire Spirit shrugged slightly. "I can tell you that each challenge is complex, but also rewards you with tools that set you up for success."
"As for where the ancients lead you...I’m sure you already know this, do you not?"
Uriel’s gaze sparkled. "These Spires...were they made by the Golden Circle? Are they linked to the Spiral Houses and Towers?"
As far as he rembered, Mariah had told him that the Houses and Towers were tools the Circle had created to let them contend with the high races of the vast universe.
If he rembered correctly, the Tower allowed the Spirals to regain and surpass their past power, and the House allowed them to forge novel foundations that had never been seen before in the universe.
When put together, the two allowed the Golden Circle to survive against their enemies.
If that was the case, Uriel couldn’t help but wonder what the function of a Spire was.
"Who knows?" the Spire Spirit vaguely answered. "I rely am here to guide all those who seek the heavens atop the spire."
"The Guardians forbid anyone from ascending the Spire. Do you know why that is? Do you know what the origins of the Guardians are relative to the Golden Circle?"
The Spire Spirit simply looked at him, faintly smiling, not planning to answer.
Uriel exhaled in frustration, then shook his head. "Alright, let’s get to it."
"Very well."
The Spire Spirit waved a hand, and the very fabric of space collapsed and bent in on itself, two points of space bridging like a folded piece of paper.
Space unwound, and then—
BANG!
—they stood right in front of the large swirling portal of grey spatial currents.
"I see that your friends are still unconscious and will be so for quite so ti. If you desire, you can take the burden of their challenges until they wake up."
"Would that be sothing you want?"
Uriel nodded.
"Great," the Spire Spirit nodded back. "This is the first trial."
The Spirit walked toward the portal, then vanished into its depths.
"All you need to do is follow ."
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