"As such, you were always using a fraction of your Fragment's authority to basically force your universe to bend to you whims," she said, finishing her chips before casually tossing the bag behind her as it dissolved back into nothingness.
I paused, staring at her.
Did she just... litter?
"That, and since Traces basically force the laws to bend to its user's will with its minimal authority, it ends up straining the user themselves. But since you're a fragment bearer, that was never an issue for someone like you." Anathasia shrugged and sank into her 'invisible' chair.
"There are a few exceptions, of course. Myself... and the Second Outer God."
She tapped a finger to her chin. "Well—Second Fragment, technically. He's a Fragment who gained consciousness rather than a bearer."
She rose again and began to approach me, her steps slow and unhurried.
"As for me?" Her smile curved. "I wielded the entire Authorial Rule before becoming an Outer God... and before integrating the First Fragment into my existence."
She vanished. Cleanly, instantly, and reappeared behind me without so much as a ripple in the space around us. Not even my newly awakened perception caught it.
Almost like she wanted to make a point.
"So, yes," she said lightly, voice close enough to send a tremor down my spine. "I was never subject to the Fragment concept. I've held the full Authorial Rule from the very beginning."
Her smile softened, disarmingly gentle despite the weight of her words.
"Think of it this way: if The Constant is the root of the Authorial Rule... then I'm the tree that holds everything together."
"I... see."
"And that means I'm extremely, incomprehensibly powerful, got it?" She moved in front of me, arms crossed like a teacher checking if her student was paying attention.
"Yes, understood..."
"I'm really powerful. Okay?"
"...Was that necessary?"
She paused, flicked her hair over her shoulder, and let out a smug little "hmph" before beginning to fade again.
"That aside, you'll eventually get it. But for now-this is goodbye."
And then she was gone. Completely gone.
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.
"She's like a storm... no... a force of nature that casually holds the fate of existence in her hands..."
My shoulders trembled as the truth settled deeper into me.
And now... everything that had happened thus far felt like a dream I'd only borrowed for a moment.
It had already been more than three years since that day.
And The Constant... had become exactly what Anathasia feared—no, expected.
Even attempting to conceptualize her now made the edges of my existence fray.
I still didn't understand what The Constant truly was.
But the ripple from three months ago. By Earth's time, at least—had shaken both us, the Outer Gods, and whatever power fueled existence itself.
Perhaps... The Constant had become that power.
After her ascension, something changed.
I found I could finally exist in the outer structures, up to the Ruins, where the inner continuums converged with the Second Outer God's domain.
Anathasia, meanwhile, had shifted even further, becoming capable of existing as anything she pleased:
A rule.
A being.
A non-being.
A contradiction.
A concept.
Anything she could imagine, she was.
And yet, despite all that... for reasons I still couldn't fathom,
she chose to bind herself to a human.
A human from an older universe within one of the multiverses under my authority.
It was, frankly, baffling.
Still... whatever her intentions were, I could only hope they wouldn't warp the balance that remained.
"That being said..." I breathed, turning toward a specific universe nestled inside one of the bubble clusters I governed.
"It's been a while since I've seen Aegea."
I compressed a portion of my existence and slipped through the boundary.
When my eyes opened, the first thing I saw was long honey-blonde hair.
A familiar sight.
Too familiar.
The woman in front of me didn't react-not until she suddenly did.
"It's been five years, Rania."
I froze.
How-? I hadn't granted her perception. Only an Outer God could-
"See you? Of course, of course," she said lightly as she turned toward me, that same smile curving on her lips.
The one that made old, unpleasant memories stir.
"You..."
"Didn't age?" She tilted her head.
"Look the same? Never changed? Naturally. Why would I?"
"You shouldn't be here-"
"And why is that?" she cut in smoothly, stepping forward with slow, deliberate grace.
The space around her warped. Quietly, impossibly, and Aegea itself... simply dissolved, the world peeling away like wet paint.
"You really thought you could leave me?"
Her smile sharpened.
"How quaint, Rania."
My breath hitched. "You... what are you?"
She came to a stop just a few steps away.
Her expression twisted into something cruel-beautiful, but fundamentally wrong-as the last remnants of the universe we stood in collapsed into a star-flecked void.
Galaxies hung around us like drifting embers.
We floated in the dead shell where Aegea once existed.
"You still don't understand?" she sighed, stroking her cheek almost theatrically.
"And to think Miss Veridielle went through all that trouble to mentor you..."
Her eyes slid to mine, gleaming with contempt.
"I expected more."
My blood ran cold.
Veridielle? How-how could she possibly know the First Outer God, Miss Anathasia's name?
"You weren't the only one twisting your universe to your whims, Rania."
She stopped. Then stepped closer, each movement deliberate, predatory, until only inches separated us.
"And of course..." Her smile curled.
"The fact that you were a Fragment bearer? I knew. How could I ever let someone with your potential slip away~?"
"...What exactly is your endgame here, Roselia...?"
She didn't answer.
Instead, her hand rose to cup my cheek. Gentle, intimate, and wrong.
Every touch, every lingering gaze, every moment of obsessive closeness suddenly reorganized itself into a pattern I should have seen sooner.
"Why?" she whispered.
"Because you were the only one I needed. Not for power, no."
Her breath ghosted against my skin.
"I simply love the thrill of having another of my kind under me..."
"Your... kind?"
The realization hit like a collapsing star.
"You—you're the Fourth-"
Her hand snapped over my mouth, silencing the words.
"Fourth Outer God," she confirmed softly.
"Drovkah. The one who went missing."
Her eyes gleamed, hungry with an ancient, terrible pride.
"He... is a part of me."
She slowly pulled away, her hand gliding from my mouth as if savoring the last point of contact.
"That being said..."
Her voice shifted. Still sweet, but colder, more composed.
"While I would very much like to continue..." Her eyes flicked over me with a hunger that made my pulse spike.
"Miss Veridielle's order takes priority."
She folded her arms, the cosmic void around us rippling in response.
"It concerns the peculiar changes occurring within the Contradictory Sphere."
I glared at her, unable to hide the disbelief at how fast her mood had flipped.
"That... she did tell me to cooperate with Drovkah. Did she mean you?"
I stepped back instinctively. Roselia only looked more amused.
"Well, in a sense. Drovkah and I are two individuals of the same essence."
"...You have bipolar disorder?"
Her smile vanished.
"Were you listening to me?"
"Right... so, great. One of the Outer Gods is actually a sadistic, split-personality woman who is also technically a man.
Fantastic. How does that even work?"
Roselia stared at me with a look so flat, so cosmically unimpressed, that for a moment I felt the concept of dignity evacuate my soul.
She exhaled slowly and turned away.
"Outer Gods do not possess a definitive form," she said, voice thinning like a blade.
"So your argument isn't merely incorrect.
It is... profoundly mortal."
I fell silent.
"I... what?"
"Thank you for proving my point."