Chapter 251
"You keep your distance to protect me.
But by doing so, you are allowing the world inspired by my own hand to collapse right before my eyes."
It was unmistakable that irritation and deep disappointment surged within Theo.
He bitterly resented the rigidity and inflexibility of RWIA in carrying out their duties, especially at such a critical moment.
In his eyes, the four pillars had transformed from supporting forces into petty bureaucratic obstacles, hiding behind doctrines of protection while ignoring the far greater consequences.
And yet, the life at stake was no ordinary one.
The character lying weak before him in the real world was Aldraya Kansh Que, a fallen former Supreme Angel, and at the same time one of the primary antagonists, bearing within her the seed of the Administrator—an essential element in the world's architecture.
If aid was not given immediately, and her life truly faded, the consequences would extend far beyond the death of a single individual.
Theo could clearly envision the worst possible scenario.
Aldraya's death, given her status and the seed she carried, would not be an event without repercussions.
It would strike a devastating blow to the foundational structure of Flo Viva Mythology.
The codes that formed the game's reality—codes that had endured countless events—could suffer catastrophic failure in the span of Aldraya's final breath.
That world might begin to tremble, fracture, or warp beyond control.
Her death could trigger the collapse of a critical pillar that upheld an already fragile narrative balance.
And from that collapse, an even greater chaos could be unleashed.
Theo imagined the next horrifying possibility.
Disputes and power struggles among the remaining nine primary antagonists could erupt into open conflict.
Without Aldraya as a stabilizing force—or perhaps precisely because of the vacuum her absence created—the existing rivalries and hostilities would intensify.
War among those powerful entities would spread devastation everywhere, ravaging landscapes, annihilating populations, and ultimately accelerating the total destruction of the world of Flo Viva Mythology.
Aldraya's death would not be the end, but the beginning of an unstoppable domino of calamity.
All of these visions churned within Theo's mind, weighing heavily upon his decision and further underscoring how dangerous RWIA's rigid refusal was at such a critical juncture.
"How amusing.
I have already explained the risks. I have already laid out the consequences.
And you still stand there, guarding an imaginary line as if the world beyond it were not collapsing."
Ufffhhh!
"This frustration did not appear out of nowhere. It accumulated, little by little."
Graaaang!!
"Now tell me—what exactly is it that you are doing?"
Kraaak!
"O-of course, Most Exalted One.
What we are doing is safeguarding dignity.
We are performing our function as we were created—to uphold will, not to alter scenarios."
Kraaak–kraaak!
"With absolute sincerity, we remain by Your side, O Most Noble Author.
Regardless of what befalls the main flow of Flo Viva Mythology, our honor lies in consistency.
Thus, we do not abandon You."
"Consistency. Honor. Beautiful words for indifference."
Braaaaakk!!
"Keep it up. I like how you remain calm, while I am the one who must bear the consequences."
"M-My… Supreme One…"
Braaaak!!
Braaak!!!
"Is… is there something that You are considering?
We sense a change.
But with all due respect, our question is merely to confirm."
The atmosphere within that space of consciousness shifted instantly, transforming from orderly meditation into a crushing storm.
Theo no longer stood upright before the four pillars.
His head lowered, his shoulders slightly hunched, as if bearing the weight of an entire universe upon shoulders that suddenly felt fragile.
A short laugh burst from his lips—not one of joy or relief, but a hoarse sound filled with bitterness and crystallized disappointment.
It was the laughter of a creator who realized his own tools had become a prison, a bitter acknowledgment that the system he built to govern narrative now bound the author's hands.
When that laughter faded, a silence sharper than a blade remained.
Then, with movements calm yet final, Theo began to walk.
Each step he took across the abstract floor of consciousness left ripples of darkness behind, like ink bleeding into a clear pool.
The aura emanating from him was no longer that of a godlike author, but the chill of a judge who had reached the end of his patience.
The four pillars—Resolve, Will, Intent, and Ambition—felt the change.
The tremor that coursed through the foundations of their existence was neither a command nor a request, but a primal warning, a rumble born from the core of the sovereignty they acknowledged.
Yet in their rigid loyalty, in their understanding limited to the function of guarding boundaries, they failed to interpret this wordless language.
They sensed only upheaval, discomfort within their perfect structure.
A question took form, spoken in voices striving to remain respectful yet colored by an undeniable vibration.
They asked whether the Almighty was considering something.
The question hung in the air, innocent and naive, like a child asking why the sky could fall, unaware that the sky was collapsing because the ground they guarded had cracked.
"P-pain—pain—pain!!
Mercy… mercy!
O Almighty Author, mercy!"
Baaaaam!
"Forgive us… we are at fault…
Forgive us…
This is our mistake—entirely our mistake!"
Baaaaam!!
"Mercy—mercy—mercy!!
Give us a chance!
We will tolerate… we will adjust!
Stop this—Your Will is crushing us!!"
Baaaaam!!!
"We are breaking… splitting… unraveling…
Mercy—mercy—mercy—!!"
Kraaak!!!
"Shattering… smaller… diminishing…
Almost nothing remains…!!"
"From the beginning, you misunderstood.
My nature brought you forth to assist me, not to hinder me."
Fhhhhh!!
"Once again, you exist to guide me, not to build walls before me."
Haaaaah!
"I walk toward Meaning.
And anyone—anything, even that which originates from my own existence—that dares to block my path must understand the consequences of its position."
Each of Theo's steps was a silent declaration that echoed violently throughout the space of consciousness.
By the sixth step, his metaphysical footfall landed with a silence that shattered the ears.
From that point of contact, a wave of pure dominion exploded outward.
Not as a crude attack, but as an irrefutable statement of existence, an absolute pressure exerted by the source upon its own creations.
The wave swept through the space, and its targets were the four standing pillars.
Resolve.
Will.
Intent.
Ambition.
When the first wave touched them, their conceptual structures convulsed violently.
Agonizing mental screams filled the air, a symphony of pain expressed through cries of "mercy" that sounded like the cracking of cosmic glass.
They, who had always existed in calm authority, for the first time felt the direct touch of their Creator's wrath.
Watching them suffer, Theo showed no trace of compassion.
His face remained cold, a stone mask amid the storm he himself had unleashed.
From the deepest depths of his consciousness, from the abyss where pure will is born before being articulated into concept, a second pressure emanated.
This time there was no impact, only a constant emission that doubled the burden upon the four pillars.
This pressure was deeper, more piercing, penetrating directly into the core of their definition.
The second scream that erupted from RWIA was no longer merely an expression of pain, but a wail of profound despair.
The sensation they experienced was one of compression, a feeling that every bond connecting them to Theo Vkytor's coarse consciousness—his ego and conscious mind that projected the world—was being stretched to the brink of severance.
They screamed not only from pain, but from the terror of separation, of becoming cast-off, lifeless entities.
Yet the Author was not finished.
To be continued…