Just as always, a door opened to reveal a familiar office. The endless humming of monitors filled the air while a man sat in the middle, faintly illuminated by a hundred screens showing a kaleidoscope of colors so familiar, yet ones He couldn't quite put his finger on.
He's witnessed them a million times no doubt, yet He still couldn't find it in Himself to put the sights into words.
Like a shattered mirror, they showed everything, while revealing nothing.
Keter pushed the thought out of mind, or perhaps there never was a thought in His head to begin with.
"You seem far less enthusiastic than before." Was Ayin's greeting, the man's gaze fixated on a small cactus placed upon his desk.
"Now what would give you such an impression?" There was a smirk present upon the divine's face, one that may have been called strained had He not been absolute in His being.
Ayin merely shrugged, his body betraying not a single emotion. It was easy to hide one's heart when most of it had already been torn away, the remnants of his soul flown halfway down the river.
"The candle of confidence wavered within your eyes, that is all there is to it."
"And you seemed so unwilling to speak before. What happened to your hatred of myself?"
Ayin hummed to himself, feeling oddly at peace.
"I suppose…"
His words trailed off as he brought his index finger to the cactus, pricking every spike one by one, making note of every tiny sting.
"I suppose hatred never was a trustworthy companion of mine. Not now, not five thousand years ago."
In spite of his words, a glare was directed towards Keter, auburn eyes holding nothing but disdain for His presence, even if it was muted.
"But do not believe yourself free from admonishment. All feelings are distant, far across the stream as they are—that does not mean they are not present. My demand remains unchanged, leave."
Keter's hesitance waned away, a chuckle returning to his lips in full as he took seat across Ayin's desk once more. "That tells me all I need to know, one foot in the grave already I see."
The man scoffed. "Take it as you will, though I suggest caution. Your words just now hold understanding, so different from He who was here yesterday—do not allow cracks to appear upon your perfected self so soon."
A drop of blood flowed as a spike was pressed just a little too deep, and Ayin couldn't stop his lips from tugging upwards when he saw Keter's finger stiffen in shared pain.
After a long moment of silence, the man finally turned towards the divine, identical eyes staring into one another.
"What is your wish?" He questioned.
Keter frowned. "To make Carmen's dream come true, and to grant Angela happiness. Why do you waste time with such a pointless question?"
The man firmly shook his head in response, the gesture somehow holding a sense of absoluteness more powerful than even His divine decrees bestowed upon reality.
"No. That is not the truth, not even close."
The divine narrowed His eyes. "What do you mean by such an accusation?"
The words held an undercurrent edge, wrath concealed by a facade of calm.
Silence was his answer, seemingly stretching out to infinity. With a scoff Keter turned away to leave, slamming the door behind Him. Perhaps He would've received an answer if He pushed further, yet an answer he did not wish for.
There was only a singular path forward, a road formed from a million chains of self constriction.
"You're back." Angela said to the sephirah who walked in through the door, mere minutes before the beginning of the forty ninth day.
"Indeed I am."
The A.I nearly jumped in surprise. The sephirah's words were almost…upbeat. Cheery even—in a manner that so deeply contrasted with her typical mock amusement.
Perhaps Angela would go so far as to say she was glowing.
"But perhaps I'm not. Am I still I? Are you still you? Are we not merely shadows of the past cast upon the present by the light of memory?"
It appeared as though little had changed. Annoyance quickly found its way into her being, and Angela turned away from the sephirah with a small huff.
"You seem different, Garion." Benjamin took the opportunity to speak up, his gaze alight with apprehensive curiosity.
The sephirah hummed to herself as she took a seat, a cup of tea somehow already clutched within her hands. "You say that as though you knew Garion, but no matter. You may call Binah from now on, I'd like to believe Garion is no longer."
Benjamin stared at her for a while, a small frown stretching across his face in recognition of the name. "If that's what you wish for." He finally accepted, returning to his work.
Angela did the same, allocating employees and appointing E.G.O to agents.
"Has Chesed run a mental corruption test on agent Edward?"
Benjamin nodded in response. "Both manual tests and automatic readings suggest he's in a perfect state of mind. Mental corruption levels are zero."
Angela frowned at the information. The agent was completely unresponsive for nearly two hours after the defeat of The Red Mist, not even managerial S.P bullets doing a thing to snap him out of it. Perhaps it would've been acceptable if the agent simply had low mental corruption levels the morning after, yet for it to be zero was completely unprecedented.
"Benjamin, have agent Edward contained within his room for the day."
The man raised his eyebrows in questioning. "Twilight has already been synchronized to him, we'll be unable to transfer the E.G.O away to a different agent before the work day begins—"
He was interrupted by a chuckle from Garion.
"There is no need to worry over strength, as today holds no trials for us. Not even the ordeals will manifest, as the soul turns its vengeance against its own vision."
Angela didn't even bother to question Binah herself, instead turning towards Benjamin. He nodded after a moment of thought.
"A liar she's not, and she knows the facility better than any other. Edward and Twilight's presence will likely not be necessary today."
The A.I nodded, and the agent was ordered away.
BEGIN MANAGEMENT
Rhythmically, it beat once a second. So long as it continued, she too could continue.
The final door was opened, endless hills of green was what He saw. On and on it stretched, a cradle of perfection with the only proof of a wider world beyond being the pale mountains far across the horizon.
Yet the green hills were not of grass, and a closer look would reveal saplings sprouting from the ground, the gentle wind rolling across the lands making every one of them a unique instrument singing their own song.
There was no sun, yet there was no moon. All was lit alight from a great tower of light, a tree seemingly stretching above heaven itself.
And not ten steps away He saw two figures, and while their backs were turned to Him, He had no doubt their gazes would reflect a familiar auburn. The smaller was of azure blue, the larger figure of pure white.
The one of azure was laid across the lap of the larger figure, and the book clutched within his hands suggested he was reading a tale to her.
They appeared…tranquil—happy even.
As Keter approached, the one of white suddenly closed the book.
"You should go see your mother. It seems as though I have a visitor."
'Okay!' Was the cheerful response of the little girl, running off to another who stood nearby. They both turned around at the last minute, and though Keter expected to see eyes of auburn and crimson, he instead found blank canvases with no features.
Of course, nothing here was real after all.
"Quite the paradise you've made for yourself here, Adam."
He chuckled in response, gesturing for Keter to sit next to him. "Indeed I did, there is no reason to sit in self imposed suffering when one can make reality into whatever they wish."
"It's a shame none of this is real." The divine's words took on a biting edge, His hollow eyes piercing into the man's heart.
Adam appeared unbothered by His words, shrugging as he let out another chuckle. "Perhaps not, yet the joy in my heart remains real. Is that not the only thing that matters? There is no shame in looking out for oneself."
Silence stretched on for a while, scorn growing within Keter's eyes with each moment. "You're not like the others." He finally said.
"You take action, and you march onward without a single regret. You do not wallow in the present, you do not grieve for the past. You look towards the future and reach out with all your might to grasp it, yet you grasp at the wrong thing."
He pointed at the two walking away. "They are the only ones that matter."
He pointed at the oneself who sat beside Him. "Not you, not us."
Adam raised an eyebrow, a confident smile still present. "And you believe that to be the truth? I find it difficult to believe that such a selfless person could exist."
Keter narrowed his eyes at the humanity. "Do not deflect, Adam. It is as I have willed it, and you may yet avoid retribution should you abandon your selfishness. Do not challenge that which cannot be challenged."
The divine's eyes narrowed ever further as Adam snorted in response.
A giggle, a snicker, then laughter.
He doubled over, one hand clutching his stomach, the other covering his eyes as he wheezed—continuing for a dozen seconds before Adam finally recomposed himself.
"D-Do you truly mean that? Hilarious, an entire circus is what you are! 'Cannot be challenged' he says!" He almost broke down into another laughter, shaking his head as he continued to snicker between each breath.
"Do you even know what you are, Keter? Of course you don't! You're nothing but a pair of eyes, gazing into the horizon with no understanding within His mind."
A single snap of Adam's finger, and the world around them collapsed. It felt as though one moment, they sat next to each other in a field of green, and the next moment they stood across one another in a plane of pure white.
Yet such a thought would be incorrect, for those moments were one and the same. Time would not pass without his permission.
A crimson crown of thorns grew upon Adam's head, a weapon of the soul forged from the shattered remains of his being.
Keter waited not a single moment, Paradise Lost appearing within his hands and upon his body. He took a stance, expecting a battle.
But Adam merely grinned, and took a step forward. With a single wave of his hands, the divine was brought to his knee, or rather, the suit upon his body was made to kneel.
The manifestation of Paradise Lost was a mistake, for the son would not oppose the father.
"I am what brought us here, Keter. I am the one who raised the sail. You, you need to be reminded of your station, for a tool is all that you are."
Down it flowed. Slowly, the forehead, the cheeks, the chin, then finally set free. A drop of blood, it hid the ground with a small splatter.
"You do not remember what you are, allow me to show you."
Every abnormality ever created, every agent ever killed, every ordeal ever manifested. Like an endless storm they descended upon Him—wishing retribution for every wound ever inflicted. But from the tendrils of black covering Adam's arm, the world was consumed, and nothing was left except them. Nothing but us.
Genesis. Creation. Made within the womb of a mirror.
A crack, the mirror breaks.
Like a creeping mold, spreading from the moment of its inception. A million realities threading its way through one's mind.
Birth, death, birth again. Decay and bloom. A million stitches from a million microscopic wounds for every life that was ever lived, every path that was ever walked. Every muscle one's ever moved and every word one's ever spoken.
Its existence hurts oneself.
A lonely soul by itself, trapped within its own mind. It lives for eighty years, and then it's gone. And then it's there again. A path walked, infinite more remains.
A reprieve. A good life. Love, children, a steady career. Recognition from one's peers. Here one moment, then gone the next. And then it's there again. Two paths walked, infinite more remain.
A great life. Success, riches, the changing of history. Adoration of the masses, passion from those saved. It lasts for an eternity, but then it's gone. And then it's there again. Three paths walked, infinite more remain.
A drop. A bad life. It forgets everything it was. Anger. Rage. Distance. Poverty. The lonely soul is lonely again. Love turns to mockery. It dies. It is reborn. Worse. Lonelier. Four paths walked, infinite more remain.
An escape. A climb back up. Love, children, a steady career. Recognition from one's peers. Here one moment, then gone the next. And then it's there again. A path already walked, walked once again.
Even further. A climb to the peak. Victory, authority, the dictator of reality. Worship from those below, nothing lies above. It lasts until the end of time, but then it's gone. And then it's there again. Five paths walked, infinite more remain. And yet, there lies nothing above.
A repeat. Remainder at the peak. Again, and again, and again.
Back down. To love, to children, to a steady career. The lonely soul is not alone, yet it's still lonely.
Further down. To not be lonely again.
Even further down. To not be lonely again.
Even further still. To not be lonely again.
Outside the box, moving sideways. To not be lonely again.
A stop, remaining in place for an eternity. To not be lonely again.
Yet the lonely soul is still lonely. There exists no escape.
Again and again, every world that could ever exist lived within one's vision.
Genesis. Creation. Made within the womb of a mirror.
The mirror is cracked, yet it's not. A moment between moments, where two things are the truth at once.
Not a single moment had passed since its inception, yet an eternity more remains.
A million paths walked, infinite more remain.
The lonely soul is still lonely, and on it walks, into a cracked forever.
"That is all that you are. A vision, a crack. It was I who bent you to my will, and it is you who remained a thorn in my side." Adam slowly approached the one kneeling in front of him.
A crack ran down keter's face, its existence nothing more than a glass construct, repeating itself beyond even eternity.
A single thrust of the arm, and Adam's hand emerged from keter's back, a beating heart clutched within his hand.
Even more cracks still, as it could never hope to survive true reality.
Yet the heart had been consumed, the present and the past. It was less than a human, yet more than a broken mirror. A black tar of humanity held it together just for a single moment.
Two unsteady hands were raised to Adam's ears. The man smiled, and made no effort to stop it.
"You shall be the eye that watches over the city. Reveal the truth, and let it all collapse." The words were barely a whisper, wheezed out within bated breaths. Adam's grin of amusement only grew wider as the black tar flowed out of keter's hands, covering his ears, that he may never hear the truth again.
In spite of it all, it was done.
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