Chapter 330
At the moment his defenses fully lowered in sleep, his pure malakhim nature—connected to divinity and cosmic harmony—unconsciously radiated outward.
No longer the cold and sarcastic Aldraya, but the very core of her existence as the Highest Angel, resting in her most guileless state.
'Everything is in order, just as it should be.'
After a long stretch of writing and reflection, the burden of physical and mental exhaustion finally began to assail Theo.
His heavy eyelids slowly drifted shut, blinking ever more sluggishly until they finally closed completely.
As a final act before surrendering to sleep, his right hand moved of its own accord, gently stroking Aldraya's white hair that still lay spread across his chest—twice.
The touch was tender, filled with unspoken attachment, a brief farewell to the waking world.
With careful movements so as not to disturb the girl sleeping soundly atop him, Theo placed the small yellow notebook and his pen beside the pillow.
Those items now held all the analyses, anxieties, and discoveries of the day.
Having released himself from his role as documentarian, he allowed his body to relax completely, sinking into the warmth and weight given by Aldraya's presence.
He chose to close his eyes fully, surrendering himself to the subconscious.
In his ears, Aldraya's soft, rhythmic snores continued to echo.
The sound was no longer merely the breath of someone asleep, but had transformed into a symphony that soothed the soul.
Theo imagined it as a celestial orchestral melody flowing directly from the throat of a holy being—a perfect, loving lullaby.
Each steady inhale and exhale seemed to sweep away the lingering worries and tangled thoughts filling his mind.
Battered by deep exhaustion and rocked by Aldraya's magical "song," Theo's consciousness gradually faded.
Slowly, he drifted into a deep sleep, finally joining Aldraya in the world of dreams, leaving reality and all its duties behind for a while.
Both bodies remained in the same position, supporting one another in the stillness of the night, while the notebook filled with secrets and analyses of the day lay untouched beside them.
The first arc, episode ten—middle—concluded.
'Several days have passed… and strangely, everything feels far too calm.'
The first arc, episode ten—final—began.
Dim morning light crept through the classroom windows, cutting through the calm haze of chalk dust floating in the air.
Theo Vkytor's gaze was empty, fixed on a blackboard filled with formulas and notes, while his thoughts had already drifted far beyond those concrete walls.
In silence, the current of his memories surged back to a day some time ago, when Ilux and Erietta walked side by side beneath a sky that suddenly felt gentler.
The success of their date was like a puzzle piece clicking perfectly into place, turning the wheels of a larger narrative toward its destined course.
Yet behind that faint satisfaction, a dark shadow crept along the edges of his awareness.
He knew—armed with knowledge he should never have possessed—that this smoothness was merely a fragile façade before the storm.
Theo's thoughts were mercilessly drawn into the vortex of the original scenario he knew by heart.
The story's focus would shift, temporarily leaving their classroom dynamics behind, to plunge into the world of Erietta Batthe.
A world that shimmered from the outside with luxury, grand houses, and expensive clothes, yet inside was nothing more than a palace made of ice.
Cold and unwelcoming.
In the game Flo Viva Mythology, players are presented with portrait after portrait of the girl's life—a deep study of the most paradoxical loneliness.
Unheard sorrow rings louder amid unchosen luxury, within a stepfamily whose lives overflow with abundance except for warmth.
That image formed vividly in his mind.
Erietta, sitting in a vast, silent dining room, the soft clink of silver spoon and fork serving as the only music.
She was surrounded by wealth, yet her eyes gazed out the window, fixed on something she could never reach.
Every flat reaction she displayed at school was a perfectly designed mask, a defense meant to hide the cracks in her soul.
Theo understood, bearing the burden of knowledge from a possible future, that this narrative was crafted to break the player's heart—to show that the deepest suffering is often soundless and hidden behind a golden sheen.
Thus, in this classroom filled with the murmur of lessons, Theo was nothing more than a trapped spectator.
He watched the wheel of fate turn, felt its faint tremor, and wondered whether the current of the story would still flow along the path he knew, or if it had already begun to deviate toward some uncharted place.
"Beyond limits I never even included in my own expectations."
Theo's thoughts sailed deeper, entering a dark yet necessary realm of paradox.
The lesson about the Realm of Gloom he had given to Erietta was not merely an exercise in esoteric power.
It was a vaccination for the soul.
He deliberately introduced her to the undercurrent of despair—not to drown her, but so that she would learn how to float within it.
And Erietta, with her heart-rending sensitivity, absorbed it not like a sponge, but like an alchemist.
She transmuted the leaden weight of that lesson into a form of resilience, a cold understanding of the mechanisms of pain.
Her rapid growth, surpassing all of Theo's expectations, proved one thing alone.
Erietta had long been familiar with the fuel.
She merely needed a spark—and Theo had given it to her.
Now, in his quiet reverie, Theo recognized his actions as a deliberate narrative intervention.
Despair that is understood, analyzed, and ultimately partially mastered would become a restraint upon Erietta's soul.
When the narrative of Flo Viva Mythology inevitably rolled toward its climax—when Erietta Batthe was pushed to the brink and transformed into one of the main bosses of the first arc—she would not be completely shattered by the wave of that transformation.
Theo hoped that what he had given her would serve as a brake, a faint awareness amid the madness, preventing her from slipping entirely into the formless abyss of antagonism.
She might become an enemy, but an enemy who still retained a glimmer of understanding—a wound whose shape was known, not a monster utterly blind.
The second antagonist after Aldraya.
The name itself tickled his thoughts.
Aldraya Kansh Que, a sixteen-year-old girl who had once been the Highest Angel, now had her very essence fused with his own TKNA—an acronym for Resolve, Will, Intent, and Ambition.
She was no longer a wholly separate entity, but had become a manifestation of Theo's deepest creative and psychic drives.
In the hierarchy of threats, Erietta would occupy a unique position.
If Aldraya was a personified cosmic storm, a corrupted divine force, then Erietta was condensed human tragedy given power.
One was born of fallen divinity, the other nurtured from tortured humanity.
Both were mirror shadows of pain drawn from different sources.
'With your long white hair, what are you doing right now, Ald—?'
"Theo."
Theo's head moved in an almost imperceptible rhythm, four gentle sways that resembled the echo of unconsciousness more than a deliberate motion.
The shake was a physical response to his inner turmoil, an attempt to dispel the intrusive shadow of future narratives.
As he prepared to form the question in his mind, a simple sentence addressed to the entity that had now become part of himself—"With your long white hair, what are you doing right now, Ald—?"—his train of thought was abruptly severed, like a thread cut by scissors.
To be continued…