Chapter 602

Intentional?

Novia looked at Shekinah's completely stunned and dumbfounded expression.

He reached out his hand.

It was neither a divine touch nor a majestic one.

Instead, as if dealing with a spoiled child who had been throwing a tantrum, he lightly flicked Shekinah's smooth forehead with the knuckle of his index finger.

Thump.

A soft sound.

Gentle.

Dull.

Yet it carried a warmth and intimacy that Shekinah had never experienced before...

"So," Novia withdrew her hand and said softly, "You're a little bit cuter than Lilith."

Cute...?

Am I... cuter than that woman?

And so, at this moment.

The girl named Shekinah's face began to flush from her snow-white neck, spreading upwards to her delicate ears, turning into a hot, luscious blush.

"How... how can I compare to that woman..."

She instinctively wanted to retort, but her voice was barely audible, filled with a pure, girlish shyness and panic that she herself was unaware of.

"Waaah..."

In the end, all the words and all the thoughts turned into a sob that was unclear and had a slightly nasal tone.

Shekinah slowly, very slowly, lowered her head, no longer daring to look into his eyes.

Somehow, she felt that this Sea of Nothingness, which should have been a symbol of her defeat and Sin, was now...

It was as if she had returned to that Kingdom of Heaven she missed so much, a place she could never go back to.

The sun was shining brightly, and a gentle breeze was blowing.

And he was right beside me.

Novia's eyes held no impatience or indifference, only a kind of indulgent "I just can't do anything with you" look.

A long time.

She let out a soft sigh.

"It's fine."

"Although the process was indeed extremely ugly."

"But I already said I think it's cute."

His voice became very gentle.

"Whether it be loneliness, Jealousy, excitement, exhaustion, joy, or pity... it is all the same."

"..."

Shekinah fell silent.

"Hmm, judging from your expression, you still don't seem to understand." Novia tilted her head, a hint of feigned regret in her voice. "What a pity, I thought you'd be a little happier after hearing this."

"No, no! I, I meant... you..."

You shouldn't do that.

Shekinah really wanted to say was this.

You are the Supreme Being, the light, the reason, the source and the end of everything.

From the bottom of your heart, you shouldn't say such tender words to a soul like yours, corrupted by Jealousy and ugly by failure.

In her mind, he should be absolute and fair.

If someone says he's evil, he'll agree; if someone says he's great, he'll smile.

Then, no matter what the other party says, he will not hesitate to slay the so-called "evil" for the sake of humanity.

And he himself, without a doubt, was the "evil" who should be killed.

That indelible shame, that mistake that even made her want to disappear completely...

Honestly, how could I be so stupid...?

In this Universe, there is certainly no sinner more grave than I.

"Stop nagging."

However,

To Shekinah's surprise, Novia uttered a statement that was almost unreasonable and full of absolute "power."

"I said you won, so you won."

"... Eh?"

Shekinah's face, which was identical to Lilith's, once again showed a look of surprise. She blinked involuntarily, as if trying to confirm whether she was hallucinating.

To be honest, Shekinah was very happy to see Novia again.

However, from the moment they reunited, his every word and action left her feeling utterly bewildered, unlike anything she had ever seen before.

"But, Demiurge..." Shekinah instinctively tried to explain.

"You did it on purpose; you were doing a good deed."

Novia interrupted again, irrationally.

He paused, then continued in a tone as if recounting a predetermined fact, "Sophia, you glimpsed the 'Chaos Seed' (Demiurge) slumbering in the abyss, and, unable to bear its eternal descent, resolved to tame and guide it with your own light. Unexpectedly, you were instead devoured by its power, and thus, unwillingly, 'gave birth' to Demiurge, this Perfection child."

It was less of an explanation and more of a one-sided "statement of facts."

It is a forced attempt to give her "crime" a "benevolent" beginning.

But...

That's strange.

This time, Shekinah did not refute it.

I just listened quietly, as if I wanted to remember every single word he said, deeply and forever.

As Shekinah's consciousness was completely overwhelmed by an unprecedented torrent of emotions called "happiness," Novia's gaze had already pierced through this realm that belonged only to the two of them and turned back to the outside.

He gazes into the eyes of Demiurge, the Ultimate Great Satan.

The Universe is crying.

It is neither a metaphor nor a rhetorical device.

The strings that constitute reality are now emitting a mournful cry, overwhelmed by their own weight.

Here, the material space was torn apart, time was trampled, and the chain of cause and effect, under the confrontation between the two, broke inch by inch like a fragile spider silk.

The Sea of Blood overflowing the Planet's surface was once a manifestation of Demiurge 'Ultimate Great Satan power; it is a symbol.

But now, this boundless Red Sea is churning and boiling like never before, as if weeping for its impending End Times.

No, that wasn't weeping.

That was... cheers.

It is the thrill and ecstasy that comes from the deepest part of the soul when one sees something beyond one's own comprehension.

Demiurge, the Ultimate Great Satan, stood at the center of the Sea of Blood, his face displaying for the first time an expression of childlike purity, a mixture of awe and fanaticism.

He gazed at the figure standing silently in the void before him, a being whose mere existence eclipsed all other things.

[I see...

He whispered, his voice trembling slightly with a hoarseness, a barely suppressed excitement.

[Is that so...]

I understand.

I finally truly understand.

Since its inception, the Demiurge has been the epitome of "change".

They seized power from the Primordial Chaos, usurped the name of the gods, and wove a fabricated history of All Creation.

Its essence is turmoil, rebellion, and an eternal process of "becoming." It devours, imitates, and transcends, incorporating everything into its own ever-flowing system, and takes pride in this.

He is the embodiment of "ever-changing".

However, the Novia before them was a completely different realm.

That is an absolute "unchanging" state.

It is neither static nor stubborn.

Rather, it is a more Root state, akin to the axiom itself.

Like the undeniable truth that "one plus one equals two," Novia's existence itself is one of the fundamental laws of this Universe.

It's not about "adapting" to the environment, but rather the environment having to "submit" to it. It's not about "defeating" the enemy, but rather the very existence of the enemy constitutes a "mistake."

Everything Demiurge did, his proud and all-encompassing changes, seem so superficial and laughable in the face of this absolute "unchanging."

I was just an Impostor all along.

This realization was like a lightning bolt cleaving through the Chaos core of Demiurge's will.

There was no Wrath, no humiliation, only an unprecedented clarity and understanding.

What is the truly unchanging thing in this world?

The Answer is him.

It's Novia.

Compared to this absolute reality, one's own constant changes, constant imitation, and eventual attainment of the "Ultimate Great Satan are nothing more than a clumsy actor chasing Mirage.

How ridiculous!

How magnificent!

[Ha ha...

A dry laugh was forced out of his throat.

"Ha ha ha ha..."

The laughter gradually rose, breaking free from the constraints of the body, and transformed into thunder that resounded throughout the Star Sea.

Hahahahahahahaha--!

That was a hearty laugh that came from the depths of his soul.

It contains utter relief, the ecstasy of finding what one has pursued throughout life, and the supreme glory of about to confront one's own destiny.

With this laughter that shook the universe, the Sea of Blood beneath his feet evaporated completely. Billions of "violent" and "poor"—those negative concepts formed from pain, despair, hatred, and barrenness, those cornerstones he had once used to construct matter—were now liberated from their concrete forms, transforming into a conceptual storm that swept across the entire dimension.

The storm roared, each moment containing enough malice and destruction to completely shatter a pantheon.

This is no longer a simple energy shock, but rather the transformation of the concept of "end" itself into a weapon.

Demiurge charged toward Noah.

He has now admitted it from the bottom of his heart.

Acknowledge that He is different.

To acknowledge this "something" other than oneself—something too dazzling, too powerful, burning with a brilliant yet ominous fire.

At first, it was hard to tolerate.

To encounter original texts that are impossible to imitate or understand on one's own path of imitation is utter blasphemy.

Next came awe. He felt a tremor from the very foundation of existence at the sight of that absolute "unchanging," that eternity that transcends all change.