Chapter 180
He is a mid-level boss who must be faced and defeated by Ilux as part of his heroic journey.
The defeat is necessary, but not death.
That line—between a character-shaping loss and total annihilation—is the boundary Theo promised to protect.
In that measured statement, Theo subtly positioned himself not as a divine benefactor descending to intervene directly, but as a guardian of narrative balance.
He acknowledged Quil-Hasa's authority as the creator and respected Aldraya's role within the greater story, while simultaneously promising subtle intervention to ensure that tragedy would not turn into irreversible finality.
It was a clever answer—one that soothed Quil-Hasa's concern without diminishing Aldraya's suffering, and one that preserved the integrity of the plot without sacrificing the life of one of its characters.
With those words, Theo quietly drew a roadmap for the next chapter, a roadmap in which both the Creator and His inspiration now held intertwined roles in the fate of a fallen angel.
"Remain as Your eternal self, as is the nature of the true God.
With TKNA beside me, I will exert every effort to protect Aldraya's life—in every moment and in every place."
Fuuh!
"And my advice: treat Your creations appropriately.
Don't be too strict, but don't cross the line either."
Theo's declaration drifted through the air, neutralizing the subtle tension that lingered in the vibrations of space.
He continued in a calmer tone, as if offering a technical explanation for the protective promise he had just made.
Theo stated that Quil-Hasa did not need to change His usual attitude or behavior.
Let everything proceed according to the existing flow and dynamics, for he possessed an intrinsic protective system that would activate on its own.
That system was RWIA—an acronym for Resolve, Will, Intent, and Ambition—the four fundamental pillars dwelling deep within his consciousness.
These four foundations were not mere concepts, but guardians with intelligence and agency of their own.
Through Theo as their central mind, they would act, moving as unseen sentinels, watching over Aldraya's thread of fate from behind the veil of reality.
Whenever and wherever absolute death approached the wounded creation, RWIA would intervene—subtly or even directly—to ensure her life remained tethered to the narrative, even if her body and soul had to endure the suffering that was her destiny.
This promise was a guarantee that sounded almost arrogant in its certainty, yet spoken with such calm conviction that it felt like an unquestionable law of nature.
But Theo did not stop there.
After offering a guarantee of safety, he finally touched upon the core of Quil-Hasa's request for guidance.
His answer was not complicated, not convoluted, and seemingly simple on the surface.
Theo merely expressed a statement that essentially asked the Goddess to find a point of balance in Her interactions with Her creations, especially Aldraya.
Do not be too rigid, bound by hierarchy and the stiff expectations of divinity that choke the space for growth and understanding.
Yet on the other hand, do not become too lenient or overly affectionate, for such behavior could foster new dependencies—or even deeper obsessions, much like what may have happened before.
"I understand."
The silence that followed Theo's words felt dense and meaningful, a brief vacuum in which the entire reality of the green field seemed to wait.
Quil-Hasa, whose form remained a flickering, ever-changing silhouette of light, was utterly silent.
No vibration of sound.
No shift in expression from a figure that had no discernible face.
Only a presence—quiet and absorbing.
Ten seconds passed in measured stillness, a short span of time that felt long within this existential tension.
Then, the reaction came.
The unstable form made a subtle movement—yet unmistakable.
A nod.
Not a slow nod filled with hesitation, nor a quick nod made in haste, but a calm, deliberate affirmation.
The gesture was simple, yet carried immense weight because it came from an entity whose half-presence alone could bend reality.
Along with that nod, a single word echoed in Theo's consciousness—clear and direct like a drop of dew falling onto still water.
"I understand."
The word was short, yet carried comprehensive acknowledgment.
Quil-Hasa not only accepted the guarantee of protection offered through Theo's RWIA, but also—and perhaps more importantly—fully grasped the advice implied behind Theo's words.
The Goddess understood the request to become more flexible, to loosen the rigid hierarchy that may have constricted Her relationship with Aldraya.
But that understanding also embraced the unspoken part.
That this flexibility must not erase Her divine magnitude in the eyes of Her creation.
It was a thin line to walk—becoming more humane in interaction without losing the essence of divinity that formed the foundation of authority and reverence.
Quil-Hasa understood that paradox, and the nod and that single word signaled Her willingness—or at least Her acknowledgment—to try navigating that difficult path.
"In that case, I will take my leave."
'What a relief. This conversation wasn't nearly as dreadful as the one Aldraya had to endure.'
Fhhh!
Buuuk – buuuk – buuuk!
'Wait, something in His previous words made me think of one thing.
Since the situation is perfect, instead of saving it for later, I should use the momentum now.'
"Is something bothering you?"
"That's more or less the case."
Fhhh!
'Losing means losing everything, including future calculations.'
"Now then—how far has the Administrator seed within You progressed?"
After that silent agreement was formed, the atmosphere on the green field grew lighter, though traces of divine grandeur still faintly lingered in the air.
Theo Vkytor, feeling the conversation had reached a conclusive point, intended to leave immediately.
As a final gesture of respect, he bowed briefly and politely toward the place where Quil-Hasa stood—a simple gesture yet full of meaning in the context of an interaction between two entities whose hierarchy had become increasingly ambiguous.
Then, without waiting for further response, he turned his body and began to walk away.
His steps were slow and measured, leaving behind the silhouette of light that was beginning to fade.
His back, now facing Quil-Hasa, appeared firm—bearing the weight of the knowledge and promises that had just been exchanged.
But after only four steps, his body suddenly stopped.
The foot that was meant to take the fifth step froze in the air for a moment before lowering gently onto the soft grassy ground.
The silence that reemerged triggered a subtle question within his mind—not through sound, but through a vibration of awareness he had come to recognize.
Quil-Hasa, still in position, asked what was wrong—a calm curiosity without any trace of concern.
Theo replied casually, almost as if muttering to himself.
He explained that he simply needed a moment to clear his head, to reorganize the information, emotions, and commitments that had piled up inside his ever-spinning mind.
Yet the real reason might have been more than that.
Standing there with his back to the divine presence he sensed preparing to fully vanish, a question that had been lingering since the discussion of the Administrator seed finally found the perfect moment to be voiced.
He remained facing forward, eyes fixed on the glowing teleportation gate in the distance, as though his question were nothing more than an afterthought that slipped through his lips.
To be continued…