A Divine Touch
My three proud children, I pray for your faithful lives, your righteous order, and your good intentions, and bestow upon you the substance that will change the world.
This is my blood, my tears, my heart, and my soul.
That which you hold in your hands, the child of your will, shall henceforth be called Mana.
I crushed the bug. I felt no particular sensation or sentiment. I didn't even know why I should feel anything in the first place. I had simply applied a light pressure with my finger.
Crack.
Dust dug into my skin. How? The ultra-fine cameras of the celestial observatory shouldn't have enough mass to exert physical force. A momentary doubt arose, but it quickly vanished. I knew all too well how meaningless my scientific common sense was here. This was an era where people used magic with mana, and Awakened beings emerged through the power of Gates. Surely, this power was also the work of some magical force.
I set aside my doubts and acted. And so, it was done.
Crunch, crack, grind...
The sensation against my hand was unpleasant. Rather than resistance, I felt only a faint warmth and wetness. Yet, my eyes witnessed the entire process. The scruff of her neck, held in a tight grip, being swallowed up. Red splattering over pink.
How many seconds had passed? The pest control was complete.
Wrooooooom—
At the same time, an ominous hum began to vibrate from the geometric magic circle beneath my feet. A colorless world. The brilliantly glittering gold lost its luster, rapidly fading and assimilating into the monochromatic landscape. Though I didn't know why such a sound was echoing, I instinctively knew. I didn't have much time.
I raised my arm and examined my body. This form, created by condensing the fine particles of the celestial observatory, was gradually dissipating like a dying storm. I reached out one last time to caress the girl's cheek. Please, keep staying strong. Do not break, do not give up. And eventually, come to where I am.
Praying, I gently stroked her skin. Finally, indulging in a small greed, I asked a question.
—What is your name?
My question did not escape my throat. It was only natural. This body, shimmering like mist, had no need for breath or vocal cords. Thus, my inquiry was closer to a glance or a gesture than a spoken question. Like watching a silent film. A question where one could tell something was being said by the shape of the lips, but the sound and meaning remained lost. Yet, the girl reacted as if she had understood even that ambiguous signal.
A faint light swirled in her tear-filled, ruby-red eyes. She replied with a smile that looked utterly divine.
“סֵרָפִינָא”
The girl uttered a single word. I couldn't know if it was truly the answer to my question. It was a language system I had never heard in my life. If translated, it might have just been a sentence like, 'I don't know what you're saying.' But I chose to believe. I chose to believe that she had truly understood my question, and that the word she just spoke was her answer.
If I were to interpret her voice as closely as it sounded—
—Seraphina.
Yes. So that is your name. I nodded in satisfaction.
My allotted time was up. The singular 'I' scattered once more into countless cells. My vision shattered into innumerable fragments. I was decomposed into the finest pieces, as if being sucked into the interior of an infinite fractal. Like a melting snowman. Like a sandcastle swept away by the waves. And so, I returned to my original role...
A moment later, I opened my eyes in front of the observatory monitor, my entire body drenched in cold sweat.
“Gasp! Inhale, exhale...”
The first thing I felt was the vaguely cushioned chair of the observatory. Next, I sensed the squishy flesh of Wilson, whom I was clutching in my arms. It was a sensation both novel and familiar. It felt like suddenly realizing that my tongue was pressed against the roof of my mouth—a tactile sensation that had surely been there all along, yet went unnoticed until consciously acknowledged.
But what truly threw me into a panic was neither the bizarre event I had just experienced nor the sudden shift in perspective, as if being flung from a dream back into reality.
“Urgh?! Pant, pant, what? Ah? Fuck, what... what is this...?!”
My head hurt. ...No. Was it pain?
Usually, when describing a headache, people use terms like throbbing, pounding, or feeling as if their skull is splitting open. Or perhaps they describe it as a dazed state of poor concentration, or a burning heat from a fever. This was different. Far from burning, my head felt incredibly cold. It was as if all the blood had drained from my body.
The sensation... wasn't direct. It was too indirect to be called pain. But it was deeply unpleasant. If I had to describe it, it was a suffocating confinement. A stifling oppression. It was akin to the feeling one gets upon realizing they are trapped in an extremely tiny room. I thought I had overcome my panic disorder years ago, yet I was feeling that familiar sensation again after so long.
My brain screamed that my skull was too small. My soul wailed that my physical vessel was too tight.
My mind grew hazy from a type of headache I had never experienced in my life. I tried to stand up to clear my head, but I stumbled, unable to even rise properly from the observatory chair.
Crash!
In the end, unable to stand or sit, I collapsed halfway, leaning my body against the observatory monitor.
"It's okay. It's a natural phenomenon. Take a deep breath. It will pass in time."
Seeing my pathetic state, Wilson offered words of comfort. Her painted mouth was slightly upturned this time as well. A smile that was part benevolent, part proud. It resembled the expression of a mother watching her child take its very first steps.
“…Right. I'm sure you're right. For now... I'll just stay like this for a bit...”
Thanks to her, I was able to calm down. I stopped my frantic attempts to do something and composed myself. My brain's protests had not yet ceased. Instead of struggling against it, I diverted my attention elsewhere. Beyond the monitor, Seraphina was rising from her knees.
Miraj was dead.
Her struggles to find her lost god had fallen miserably short. The connection between her head and body was severed. Her torso collapsed in place with a dull thud, while her round head rolled a few times before coming to a stop near Seraphina. Seraphina stared blankly at the pink-haired head. The face that had maintained a playful, composed smile throughout was now painted with absolute shock and disappointment. Even the pentagrams in her eyes slowly lost their light and faded away.
“…”
She was dead. A member of the Council. The culprit who had driven her mentor, Ods, to his death had met a gruesome end. Though it was not a result achieved by her own hands, it did not matter. It would have been perfect if she could have killed Miraj herself, but this was not a revenge easy enough to afford such pickiness. It was enough to witness their deaths, by any means necessary.
“…”
Yet, why was it that looking at Miraj's corpse did not bring Seraphina as much joy as she had expected? Of course, she wasn't experiencing some cliché realization that revenge only breeds more revenge, or that vengeance is ultimately hollow. The crimson emotion she had felt upon hearing of Ods's death still occupied a corner of her heart. Thus, Seraphina did feel a certain sense of fulfillment. She had taken the first step of her revenge. Though it was a result achieved through coincidence and the help of another, she felt satisfied to have completed the first stage of her self-proclaimed task.
It was simply that the intensity of the emotion washing over her was not as strong as anticipated. Naturally, there was only one reason for this.
“My God…”
Seraphina murmured softly, her voice slightly breathless. She replayed the scene she had just witnessed. She recalled the touch she had felt, the exchange that had passed between them. The satisfaction of revenge could not fully occupy the girl's heart, for another, entirely unfamiliar emotion was already caressing her soul.
The one she had previously regarded merely as a master to satisfy and an object of worship. Seraphina had intentionally referred to him as an 'Evil God'. Though she watched her words in front of the believers, she had kept her distance in her heart. She had to. She was terrified that even God might abandon her. Just as Renatus Morteon had severed all her bonds in an instant, she feared that the gaze of God might also vanish one day. She had tried not to expect anything, so that she would not be disappointed. But...
“…Thank you.”
Seraphina thought to herself: Even keeping my distance will be difficult now.
A corner of her reason whispered that even this might be an act, a deception. That he might soothe her with that gentle touch, only to push her off a cliff at her highest moment. Yet, the girl's heart answered: Even if that is true, I do not care. Even if this is a stepping stone for a greater betrayal, I cannot reject this mercy.
Seraphina rose from her knees once more and looked up at the sky. A silver hue, growing thick again, filled her vision. With an affectionate gaze, the girl chased the presence beyond it, hoping that the being above was thinking the same.
Meanwhile, beside the girl looking up at the sky, the scattered fragments began to tremble faintly once more.
The descent ritual had been interrupted by the death of the caster. The divine will, which had nested within the cradle of immense mana, returned to the heavens. Had this been on the Continent, the descent ritual would have ended there. Normally, it was only logical that the vessel to hold a constellation's will would be chosen from among the constellation's priests with the highest compatibility. The god would dwell within the priest's body as a vessel. And once the indwelling god departed, the priest's body, unable to bear the strain, would crumble.
Just as Lee Seokin, who had been forcibly injected with Yeomyeong's factor, had met his end, they would turn to dust and perish. This was precisely why Miraj had requested Seraphina's capture alive. But this time, the circumstances were different. Miraj had realized too late that the fragments acting on the god's behalf were already widespread throughout the world. Simply gathering them had created a sufficient vessel. Furthermore, the terminals that had long represented the constellation's will were not destroyed just because power had dwelled within them once. Since the descent ritual had been canceled midway, the mana used for the ritual had not been entirely consumed. The fragments, having awakened as a vessel, acted by using the residual mana as fuel.
Following their master's desire to exert even a sliver of influence upon the world, they sought the optimal course of action. The conclusion they reached was hibernation. To prepare for the next descent so they could fulfill their role when the proper time came.
Having set their goal, the fragments instinctively sought a sanctuary. The authority utilized at the end by Miraj, who had presided over the descent ritual, and which had been passed down through generations of the 13th Cardinal of Order: Mercury. A Sacred Relic that had deeply absorbed that power over generations.
The bracelet-type rosary that served as proof of a Cardinal of the Order of Order. The fragments that had formed the avatar were absorbed into the rosary. Black mist and silver light seeped into the crevices of the rosary, which had once glowed with a faint golden light.
Clack.
The fragment-infused rosary vibrated slightly. Ready to obey at any moment whenever its master expressed the intent to descend once more.