The crystal of intention hovered above the Throne Eternal.
It did not shine.
It clarified.
Pride stood beneath it, the veil of Chastity draped across his shoulders. It did not conceal him. It revealed him—stripped of hunger, stripped of claim, stripped of conquest.
Chastity stood before him, silent.
The Egoverse had quieted—not in reverence, but in respect.
Then she spoke.
"There is one desire left," she said. "The deepest. The most sacred. The one you've never named."
Pride trembled.
Not from fear.
From recognition.
The Mirror pulsed.
And from its surface emerged a figure.
Not a sin.
Not a virtue.
A soul.
One Pride had loved.
Not for power.
For truth.
She stepped forward—eyes gentle, voice unspoken, presence radiant. She was not a memory. She was a longing.
Pride reached out.
But the veil shimmered.
Chastity whispered, "You may not possess her. You may only honor her."
Pride lowered his hand.
And bowed.
Not to claim.
To bless.
The soul smiled.
And vanished.
Not in loss.
In liberation.
The crystal above the Throne Eternal pulsed once.
Then dissolved.
Its light flowed into the Egoverse, touching every corner, every shadow, every silence.
Chastity smiled.
"You have passed."
She turned, leaving behind a single ring—unworn, unclaimed, unbroken.
It settled at the base of the Throne Eternal, not as a bond, but as a vow:
To love is not to hold. It is to honor.