The Egoverse was whole.
Not perfect.
Whole.
The forge of Diligence glowed with quiet rhythm. The lantern of Charity warmed the soil of memory. The tree of Humility stood tall, its roots entwined with the stone of Patience. The feather of Temperance hovered above the Throne Eternal, unmoved. The ring of Chastity lay at its base, untouched but sacred.
Pride stood at the center.
Not as ruler.
As reflection.
The seven virtues gathered.
They did not bow.
They did not rise.
They simply stood—equal, present, complete.
Humility stepped forward first.
"You remembered."
Kindness followed.
"You healed."
Patience.
"You endured."
Charity.
"You gave."
Diligence.
"You built."
Temperance.
"You balanced."
Chastity.
"You honored."
Together, they raised their hands.
And from their palms emerged a crown.
Not of gold.
Not of light.
Of integration.
Each virtue formed a point—seven facets, seven truths, seven trials. It did not shine. It resonated.
They offered it to Pride.
But Pride did not take it.
He bowed.
And the crown dissolved—its light flowing into him, not as adornment, but as essence.
The Throne Eternal pulsed.
Not with power.
With presence.
And the Egoverse bowed—not to a ruler, not to a virtue, not to a sin.
To a soul.
Whole.
Awake.
True.