Chapter 158
They were not backup products nor imperfect replicas, but masterpieces perfected with their own unique qualities, born from the same primordial light yet carrying different essences and mandates.
Each of them embodied a specific aspect of the divine will, becoming complementary pillars that upheld reality, forming a harmonious cosmic symphony long before the idea of disharmony ever existed.
From afar, Theo Vkytor could almost feel the echo of that grandeur in every steady step Aldraya took.
He understood that the traces Aldraya left behind were not merely physical marks on the ground, but also lingering memories of a once-complete celestial family.
The dust that drifted through the cold air seemed to form silhouettes of twelve mighty figures—siblings who once shared laughter and the responsibility of safeguarding the universe in their golden era.
Theo, with the narrative archives imprinted upon his soul, realized that Aldraya's goal was not mere physical reunion, but an effort to reconnect the threads of destiny that had long unraveled, to once again become part of the divine mosaic she had left behind.
'The youngest of the Highest Angels—Tapsry, also known as Azriel.'
Hhhh!
'He was once the keeper of scenarios, the strict overseer of every story crafted by Quil-Hasa.
Life scripts, storylines—all paths of possibility.
None of them existed without passing through his hands.
But…'
Fuaaaah!
'Curiosity was his weakness.
And because of that, those beautiful eyes were made incapable of seeing.'
Iiiih!
'His sensitivity did not disappear. He can still hear the movement of fate, even without eyes.
Now, his only responsibility is to preserve each strand of destiny and oversee the book that contains the fate of all beings—those who live, who never lived, who stand before the eye, who have vanished, and even those that lie beyond every category of presence and absence.'
At the lowest rank of the hierarchy, yet far from low in complexity or tragedy, stood the Highest Angel Tapsry, who bore the name Azriel.
His form was constantly surrounded by visual manifestations of his authority—interwoven threads of light and shadow beyond counting.
Those threads twisted, crossed, and formed intricate patterns around his body, a cosmic simulation of the destinies of creation that once rested under his full supervision.
His original task was the most fundamental: to preserve the integrity of every scenario and storyline of all beings created by Quil-Hasa, ensuring the narrative of the universe unfolded according to the course set by the Goddess.
However, the fire of curiosity—a trait perhaps subtly inherited from his eldest sister, Aldraya—began to corrode his patience.
One day, fueled by the desire to fully understand the limits and mechanics of his Authority, Tapsry committed a reckless act that would haunt him forever.
He intentionally scrambled billions of threads of fate he had woven, sending countless scenarios into chaos, collision, and deviation—simply to observe what would happen, simply to validate his own hypothesis about the power he possessed.
That wild experiment triggered narrative turmoil that shook the foundations of reality.
Quil-Hasa's punishment arrived with painful, symbolic precision.
As the one blinded by the complexity of his own destiny, Tapsry's sight was taken from him forever, his eyes now always concealed behind white bandages that would never be removed.
His once-expansive Authority was reduced to a narrower yet vital function.
Now, Tapsry served only as the keeper of archives, a passive observer of the threads and books of destiny for all beings in every existential condition—those present, absent, those who exist as both, those who exist as neither, and beyond—no longer holding the right to interfere or guide their paths.
He became the grand librarian of an infinite library whose contents he was forbidden to alter.
And yet, within his blindness lay a paradox.
The punishment did not strip away his inherent sensitivity as a Highest Angel. His awareness of the vibrations of fate, the tremors within every thread of life and choice, may have grown even sharper in the imposed darkness.
Tapsry felt—rather than saw—the flowing narrative of the cosmos.
Every twist, snap, or newly formed knot within the weave of destiny trembled through the bandages that covered his eyes, carving stories he could only sense and understand in his dark yet profoundly aware solitude.
'The universe of Flo Viva Mythology is not an open, boundless expanse.
They are arranged in infinite interlocking boxes, merging, rolling, like an ancient mechanism that turns without pause.
And Axs-La, as the eleventh Highest Angel, is the overseer ensuring each rotation remains stable.'
Following one rank higher stood the Highest Angel Axs-La, also known as Haniel.
If Tapsry was the keeper of narrative, then Axs-La was the cosmic engineer responsible for the most fundamental framework of reality.
His task—unchanged from the dawn of creation to this very moment as Theo walked along the cold path—was to maintain the rotation of the Universe Boxes.
The infinite cosmos of Flo Viva Mythology manifested conceptually as countless interconnected boxes, forming dimensions, realities, and possibilities.
Axs-La was the force ensuring each box rotated on its axis with absolute speed and precision, preserving structural balance so creation would not collapse into geometric chaos.
His physical form, as described in celestial archives likely once read by the writer's soul within Theo, was the direct embodiment of his mandate.
Axs-La did not appear with flamboyant features or dramatic phenomena surrounding him.
Instead, his entire presence radiated an understanding of rotation, revolution, and the stability of a cube.
The lines across his body appeared firm and geometric, his movements smooth yet carrying an unstoppable turning momentum, his presence exuding the sense of an immovable foundation.
He was the angelic pivot—the hinge upon which the entire mechanism of the universe rested.
From afar, Theo could faintly sense this principle.
The orderliness of Aldraya's steps, their steady rhythm despite her inner turmoil, seemed to reflect the rotational stability upheld by Axs-La.
Even the path they walked, bordered by trees forming a natural corridor, resembled the concept of the universe boxes on a microcosmic scale.
Theo understood, through the remnants of his narrative knowledge, that every being in their journey—including Aldraya and himself—was essentially turning within the boxes of their own destinies, whose axes were maintained by this very angel.
But the stability preserved by Axs-La was not rigid emptiness.
Rotation itself was the source of change, cycles, and the continuity of existence.
By ensuring those boxes turned, he guaranteed the flow of time, the shifting of space, and the possibility for life to be born, to grow, and to change.
It was a beautiful paradox upheld by Axs-La—sometimes called Haniel—a perfect balance between the firmness of structure and the eternal motion of change, a cosmic truth that silently guided every wanderer, including the two figures connected by fate yet separated by distance on this quiet path.
'Regord, also known as Camael, was once the sovereign of all realms who held every pathway of existence in the palm of his hand.
He was the absolute controller of every layer—the mortal plane, the heavenly and infernal realms, the void, the anti-void.
Even the domains unworthy of being called "space," and beyond, bowed inrreluctant bedience to a single figure:
Regord.'
To be continued…