Chapter 497
Theo took a breath—a breath that felt like inhaling shards of glass, a breath not enough to calm his heart that was beating far too quickly, yet enough to remind him that he could still think amidst the chaos unfolding around him.
He turned, facing Aldraya, who still stood beside him with unblinking eyes, and for several moments, he simply stared—stared at the face that had previously been radiant with strange questions about attraction and allure, now transformed into something more serious, something more alert, like a wild beast sensing the arrival of a predator far greater than itself.
"Aldraya," Theo said, his voice low yet firm, leaving no room for negotiation, "we need to put the invisible blanket back on. Now."
Aldraya frowned—a small gesture she rarely made, yet this time it was clearly visible beneath the glow of the nine beacons pulsating in the sky.
"The invisible blanket? The one that will make our physical forms disappear from sight and become undetectable to any kind of creature within this game?"
Theo nodded, his eyes no longer focused on Aldraya, but shifting toward the nine portals that had begun trembling more violently, tearing wider, forming something along their edges.
"We don't know what the Disturbers will do when they arrive. We don't know whether they'll be friendly, or whether they'll kill anything moving around them. The Nothingness may have called them—but we weren't invited. And uninvited guests, in front of beings born from emptiness, usually end up as appetizers."
Theo closed his eyes—not for long, only for a moment, but within that moment he summoned something from the depths of his consciousness, from the place where four pillars still stood tall even as the world around them collapsed.
RWIA.
Resolve. Will. Intent. Ambition.
The four extensions of will belonging to the Great Author—from himself, because he was the author who had written and popularized the world's greatest horror novel titled Last Prayer, and within this world, words possessed a power no sword or magic could ever hold.
"Protect us," Theo whispered, and those words emerged not from his mouth, but from his entire body, from invisible pores, from light that never shone, from something older than the name he carried.
"Cover us with nothingness. Make us nonexistent in the eyes of those who come. Make us ghosts to the ghosts."
And around Theo and Aldraya's bodies, something began to form.
Not mist, not light, not darkness, but layers—layers as thin as forgotten dreams, layers that allowed them to still exist yet remain unseen, still breathe yet unheard, still move yet undetectable by any kind of creature within the game Flo Viva Mythology.
Aldraya raised her hand, staring at her fingers as they slowly disappeared—not vanishing like extinguished light, but vanishing like something forgotten by reality itself.
"Strange," she whispered, and for the first time, admiration existed within her voice—genuine admiration she did not attempt to hide. "I can feel my body, but it feels as though I'm dreaming that I exist, while in reality, I don't."
Haaah!!
They stepped back—slowly, without haste, because movements that were too fast could create ripples visible to beings sensitive to changes in reality—moving slightly farther from the place where Ilux still stood with the pillar of light continuously piercing the sky, slightly farther from the nine portals that were now growing larger.
The portals were no longer merely rough lines resembling the scribbles of elementary school children; they were beginning to take shape, to gain complexity, to become something that could truly be called gates—gates symbolizing each of the nine surviving Disturbers.
Every gate possessed a different color, a different vibration, a different scent—some smelled like flowers growing upon graves, some like rain falling upon ashes, some like something burning without ever being consumed completely.
"Lilith HaRish'a," Theo whispered, speaking the name so softly it was almost inaudible, like someone praying to a god he did not believe in.
"Asherah. Mammon. Ashmedai. Baal-Zevul. Chemosh. Apollyon. Rahab. Apophis."
He paused for a moment, because behind those names, there were others—not alive, yet still existing despite death.
"Bes. Enlil. Lamashtu. Ahura Mazda. Mictlantecuhtli."
And then, the gates fully opened.
Nine figures emerged from the still-vibrating dimensional vortexes, and for a moment, silence hung like a blade against the throat of the sunless sky.
Lilith HaRish'a slowly moved her head, her pitch-black hair glowing with dark purple hues shifting like an ocean beneath a starless night—her eyes tracing the figure of the Nothingness standing not far ahead, before turning toward the surroundings, ensuring nothing was wrong, ensuring there was no trap.
"We have come," she finally said, her voice cold yet capable of shaking the fragments of reality around her, "but allow us to doubt for a moment—are you truly Him?"
The Nothingness standing before them did not answer quickly.
It merely stared, with a gaze that could not be called empty because it was far too full of nothingness, and when a voice emerged from a mouth whose form was not even clear, the tone was flat, emotionless, merciless.
"You doubt the one who gave birth to doubt itself?"
Lilith immediately lowered her head.
Not because of fear—fear was the language of beings who still had something to lose—but because within that nothingness, she recognized an authority that did not need to shout in order to be heard.
"Forgive us," she said, and behind her, her eight sisters followed the same motion, their bodies bowing in perfect harmony, like shadows merging with the night.
Asherah with her dimly gleaming emerald-orange hair, Mammon with her copper darkness burning like cold embers, Ashmedai with her gloomy gray that seemed to absorb light—all of them fell into positions resembling prostration.
Not before a God who created, but before the nothingness that transcended creation itself.
"We praise the nothingness that gave birth to us," they spoke in unison, the voices of nine women rising and falling like waves upon a silent ocean.
"We are grateful to nothingness for never trying to become something, and we despise anyone who dares insult nothingness—because nothingness is the child of the Nothingness, and the Nothingness is the mother who never gave birth, yet still became the beginning."
From afar, behind the invisible blanket wrapping around their bodies like dew refusing to fall, Theo and Aldraya watched everything in silence.
Aldraya, who still wore that monotonous yet strangely radiant expression, whispered soundlessly—only the movement of her lips that Theo could read.
"So... do I look more captivating than those who are bowing?"
To be continued…