Chapter 252
His resolve to destroy this barrier crystallized into action without hesitation.
The third wave rose, its power tripling compared to the first.
This was no longer mere pressure, but a process of conceptual mutilation.
Theo's pure will functioned like a cold, merciless scalpel, beginning to slice apart—piece by piece—what defined Resolve, Will, Intent, and Ambition within his own mindscape.
Each cut severed power from function, principle from identity.
The third scream was the loudest yet, a panicked cry begging for mercy and a chance to repent, to tolerate error and loosen the rules.
That voice was saturated with despair, realizing they were being dismantled by the very hand that had once assembled them.
At the peak of this conceptual torment, Theo unleashed the final act.
His power quadrupled, an intensity designed not to destroy physically, but to demonstrate who held absolute dominion.
The four pillars were nearly sliced apart, deconstructed from their largest structures down to the tiniest particles of meaning that composed them.
At the threshold of total annihilation, Theo delivered a brief yet weighty message.
Not through sound, but as an understanding forcibly embedded into the remnants of their consciousness.
That they existed not to obstruct the Author from reaching his "Meaning."
The message became both seal and final warning, engraved into every newly formed fracture within them.
"Even one percent is still existence, and that is already more than enough."
The four pillars were no longer solid monuments radiating conceptual authority.
They were trembling ruins, clusters of fractured light pulsing erratically across the dark-scored floor of consciousness.
Their once firm and clearly defined forms now blurred, dispersing like vapor on the verge of vanishing.
Only the weakest remnants of their essence—approximately one percent of their total existence—still endured, clinging desperately to a thread of being that was nearly severed.
That thread was anchored to a single source.
Theo's own will.
The remaining ninety-nine percent had collapsed, shattered beneath the absolute pressure of their Creator's will, scattered into formless and powerless particles of meaning, like cosmic dust drifting through the void of his mind.
"All praise and gratitude we offer to You, Honored Author.
Forgive us, grant us mercy.
We are guilty of overstepping our bounds.
We beg your forgiveness, truly, we beg for mercy.
We will never repeat this act of defiance again.
Not now, not ever."
Fuuuuuh!
"Forgive us… mercy… mercy…"
Fhhhhh!
"Anxiety has clouded our reason.
Thus, allow us to swear an oath: never again shall we place obstacles upon the path of Your decisions."
Haaaaah!
"In submission to Your Enlightenment, we beg forgiveness, O Great Author.
For the second time, we swear: we will no longer obstruct the union of Aldraya's core essence with ourselves."
Amid the conceptual debris still slowly drifting, Theo chose to remain silent.
He was no longer a judge delivering punishment, but a patient observer awaiting the natural process of a system grievously wounded.
He withdrew the remnants of his dominant will, allowing the scattered particles of meaning to breathe, to find new gravity within the chaos he had created.
Time within this space of consciousness was an illusion that could be manipulated, a fluid without fixed past, present, or future.
In an instant too swift to be called a moment—yet prolonged by the intensity of change—the process of regeneration occurred.
The cosmic dust of Resolve, Will, Intent, and Ambition began to spin faster, drawing toward one another with a new magnetism implanted by Theo's message.
They did not merely reunite, but reformed, rebuilding their pillars with the same patterns, now bearing an acknowledgment of the absolute authority they had just experienced.
The fractures vanished, the damage erased without trace, as if the ordeal had been nothing more than a collective nightmare.
The four pillars stood upright once more, radiant and whole as before.
Yet there was a subtle but fundamental difference.
The light they emitted was no longer arrogant or autonomous, but softer, more reflective, like mirrors prepared to reflect the will of their source.
They did not speak immediately.
For several solemn moments, they simply stood in perfect formation, facing the calm figure of Theo.
Then, rhythmically and reverently, their unified voice resonated four consecutive times.
Each repetition was a layer of praise and deep gratitude, offered to the Honored Author.
Each layer resembled a ritual of purification, worship meant to erase the residue of defiance and reaffirm proper loyalty.
Their words were melodious yet filled with humility previously absent, acknowledging Theo not merely as creator, but as the absolute center of all logic and meaning within this realm.
After the ritual of praise concluded, the atmosphere shifted into sincere confession.
Six times they voiced apologies and pleas for forgiveness.
Each repetition was not empty redundancy, but like a hammer driving remorse deeper into the structure of their essence.
They begged forgiveness and vowed never again to commit acts of obstruction like before, admitting that their intervention had not been protection, but a mistaken assumption that had nearly caused catastrophe.
Their voices were clear, stripped of arrogance, containing only total surrender.
This confession was a final laying down of arms, a complete relinquishment of their conceptual sovereignty into the hands of the Author.
And finally, with unmistakable clarity, they delivered their ultimate decision.
The voices of the four pillars resonated as one, declaring that from this moment and forevermore, they would no longer challenge, question, or obstruct the decisions of Theo Vkytor.
Especially regarding his intent to merge, intermingle, or integrate Aldraya's fragile core essence into even the smallest portion of their essence—RWIA.
"Not entirely pure."
In the silence that followed this confession and total surrender, a subtle tension lingered in the air of consciousness.
The four pillars—Resolve, Will, Intent, and Ambition—stood in the perfection of their renewed forms.
Yet beneath the calm sheen of their surfaces, there was an almost imperceptible tremor.
A deep unease, even pure fear, seeped into every particle of their light.
They had witnessed and felt the absolute power capable of deconstructing them to the brink of nonexistence.
Now, before that silent and contemplative source of power, they dared not speak.
None of them intended to pose a question or even draw a metaphysical breath too loudly.
They simply existed, waiting obediently and anxiously, like reforged blades awaiting the hand that would wield them.
Theo himself was submerged in a deeper ocean of contemplation.
His gaze was empty, piercing through the formation of RWIA and drifting into a more personal dimension.
His reflection was no longer about rescue mechanisms or the stability of the Flo Viva Mythology code.
Those were merely the surface—reasons he voiced to himself and to his creations.
Deep within his heart lay a motive more obscure, more human, and perhaps more dangerous to acknowledge.
Should he tell the four pillars that his drive was not purely cosmic or narrative in nature?
"I'm sorry. I deliberately damaged you four times over."
Fhhhhh!
To be continued…