The Holy Right Hand of a Certain Multiverse

Divine Right of Various Anime and Manga by Zhu Zhiyue

Synopsis:

In Christianity, God is the One; all miracles are governed by this sole deity.

The "Right Hand" of God, in Christian theology, signifies being "equal to God."

The "Magic Gods" of A Certain Magical Index, the "Beasts" of FATE, the "Gods" of Campione, the "Witch Cult" of Re:Zero, the "Humanity's Final Trial" of Little Garden...

This is the story of a man who transmigrated as the son of the "most evil man in the world," Aleister Crowley, and who, wielding his own right hand, ascends to become the God of Christianity.

"My magic name is 'BEAST' 777, which means 'I Shall Transcend Human Evil'!"

Chapter 1: The Book of 777

(New book, seeking collections and support!!)

"Edward, ah, Edward!! Why are you so foolish?!"

"Heh, even those who believe in God and loudly proclaim justice possess such ugliness... If that is the case, reading the Bible will surely never lead to the truth. By blindly following the teachings of predecessors and abandoning one's own thoughts, all one gains is that very ugliness."

The youth named Edward Alexander whispered in a tone filled with doubt and mockery, "...In that case, I shall be the one to find the truth. I shall be the one to reclaim the path lost to the foolish blind obedience of men!"

Early 20th century, 1919, London, England—

Roy Crowley placed the book he had just finished reading onto a slightly aged solid wood table and shut it heavily. He rubbed his forehead with his hand and whispered wearily: "...As expected of a Grimoire, a 'Primary Text.' Merely reading it is as agonizing as being poisoned. If a normal person were to read it, they would surely be eroded by the toxins within the content; they would either go mad or die."

"...Ha, am I not a normal person? Or should I be grateful for the blood flowing through my veins?"

Roy gave a self-deprecating smile, and after closing his eyes to rest for a moment, he stood up from the chair accompanying the table.

He looked around; what met his eyes was a somewhat old apartment, and the furniture inside looked like it had seen better days.

The furniture was wiped very clean, the few ornaments on the table were unique and ingenious, and there was even a small potted plant by the windowsill.

There were no luxury items in the room; the most valuable things appeared to be the densely packed books in the bookcase in the corner. Just from the furnishings in this room, one could tell that while the owner was not destitute, they were certainly far from wealthy.

Roy was quite satisfied with this cozy little room. In this early 20th-century London, in a London that had just ended World War I, he was already asking for nothing more than to not live in a slum and to have a small place of his own in a residential area with his younger sister.

Should he be grateful to that father of this body whom he had never met, or should he be grateful to the mother who died shortly after giving birth to them?

Ah, he should be grateful to his mother. Although the mother of this body did not fulfill her duty of raising them, that was due to force majeure.

As for that existence called father, he might have even forgotten about the two siblings. Fortunately, Roy was an adult who had already been working before he transmigrated. Although life starting over after transmigration was arduous, he had at least managed to raise his sister successfully through his own maturity.

Thinking this, Roy looked at the book his fingertips were touching with a complex expression.

The paper was cold, and the book looked brand new, lacking any sense of historical weight. But if this book were thrown into the world of magic, it would surely cause a sensation among all mages.

--The Book of 777, Author: Aleister Crowley

"A Certain Magical Index..."

Roy muttered to himself, then shook his head with some helplessness.

Not long after he transmigrated into this world, he had already realized which world he had come to.

He was both familiar and unfamiliar with the world of A Certain Magical Index. He was familiar with it because he had watched the anime; although he couldn't recall many details, he at least knew the general plot flow.

He was unfamiliar with it because it seemed he had transmigrated about a hundred years too early. Forget about Academy City; even Aleister Crowley, the father of this body and the big boss behind the scenes, was still alive and kicking, not yet stuffed into a nutrient tank as a hanging man.

In this era where he was unfamiliar with interpersonal relationships and even less familiar with the various factions, Roy did not run out to Court Death. Instead, he chose the most correct decision: to live honestly with his sister in this dilapidated apartment in London.

Roy had absolutely no intention of looking for Aleister Crowley; in fact, he wished for him to get as far away as possible. If his memory served him right, the current Aleister Crowley should be being hunted down by mages all over the world; it would be no exaggeration to say he was an enemy of the world.

If he dared to run out and say he was Aleister's son, he would likely face countless mages coming to his door that very day, and surviving until the next day would be difficult.

Roy was actually quite fortunate that Aleister had forgotten about the two siblings. Since even his father had forgotten his own children, let alone other mages, this gave Roy and his sister a relatively stable living environment.

Moreover, even if Roy wanted to go out and cause trouble, he couldn't. He was not one of the few dozen "Raw Stones" in the world; he had no innate superpowers, and at this time, there was no superpower development in Academy City.

As for magic, Roy knew some, but only some. These spells were learned through self-study; he had not received basic magical education from a young age and could only rely on some books left behind by Aleister to teach himself.

Roy's mother must have been Aleister's closest lover, and Aleister must have lived in this apartment, otherwise, he could not have left so many of his works here. The books arranged in the bookcase were Roy's greatest wealth today.

And the most precious of these treasures was the book Roy had placed on the table--The Book of 777.

In the Christian Bible, the number 7 has extremely important significance, representing completeness and perfection.

God created the world in 7 days and rested on the Seventh Day.

In the Book of Revelation, God listed 7 churches, representing all churches throughout the church age.

7 are the seven spirits of God; in the process of God's judgment, there are seven seals, seven trumpets, seven bowls, and the sending down of seven plagues.

After Noah entered the ark, God left seven days of grace.

Solomon built the temple in seven years and kept the feast for seven days.

Lord Christ spoke the famous seven last words on the cross.

--And so on and so forth.

'777' is the most important number in the Bible, possessing great magic.

If anyone in the magical world saw The Book of 777, they would surely suspect that this book was related to "Christianity," and in reality, the book did indeed record analyses of the Kabbalah Tree of Life, mysterious rituals, the names of angels, and even involved astrology and divination.

(Note: The Book of 777 actually exists in reality; it was written by Aleister Crowley.)

However, only Roy, who had been reading this book for over a decade, knew that the knowledge recorded in The Book of 777 was merely the surface. What this book truly expounded upon was the philosophy of Aleister Crowley; it could be called Aleister's magnum opus and the true source of his power.

What was recorded in that book was fundamentally not the Kabbalah Tree of Life, but an Inverted Tree personally twisted by Aleister, also known as the "Tree of Evil."

"7" was originally a sacred number in Christianity, but Aleister had linked "7" with the "Beast," causing this Demonic Path Canon to be saturated with "Human Evil," filling the entire text with blasphemous rebellion and showcasing Aleister's arrogance.

"As expected of the man called the 'Beast of Revelation' and the 'most evil man in the world.' This is practically a betrayal of the world created by God."

Roy exhaled heavily. Just thinking about the contents recorded in this Book of 777 made his head ache faintly. The original sin filled with "Human Evil" almost dragged his body and soul into filthy mire.

Just then—

"Brother, I'm home!"

A sweet, melodious voice drifted from outside the apartment door.

Chapter 2: Laura Stuart

(Went to the gym to work out today; my body is weak, need to train properly...)

The voice was light and pleasant, carrying the liveliness and sweetness of a maiden. Roy, who had been staring at the grimoire in his hands with a serious expression, let his facial muscles relax, revealing a gentle smile.

He had been listening to that clear, beautiful voice outside the door for over ten years; it was his younger sister.

When facing his sister, Roy would do his best not to show any distress or worry, instead presenting his happiest and most carefree side to her.

This was what a qualified brother should do; he could not let his cute, delicate sister have any worries.

Such was Roy's nature. He would perfectly perform the duties befitting his status. When acting as a brother, he would certainly be the best brother, never showing any slack.

The old door was pushed open. Through the narrow gap, a bright light completely filled Roy's vision; it was a beautiful, innocent maiden.

The maiden had long, pale golden hair reaching her ankles, as fine as the sand on a beach. In this old, dim apartment, it emitted a scorching, brilliant radiance, bringing a glimmer of hope to Roy's heart, which was filled with agitation.

"Laura, you're back."

Roy walked quickly to the door and took the basket from Laura's hands. As his palm brushed against her silky golden hair, he saw the faint dust that appeared on his palm and said with a pained heart, "...Go wipe your hair clean first."

London at the beginning of the 20th century was like a black factory, a veritable city of fog. People walking on the streets would soon be stained with a layer of dirty haze, and the houses here also needed to be cleaned of the thick dust that accumulated outside regularly.

"Don't worry about my hair; as long as the food isn't dirty, it's fine."

Laura's slender, soft fingers carefully lifted the white cloth on the basket. The cloth had already been stained with a layer of gray, but the bread and fruit beneath it were clean and warm. Seeing this, Laura patted her gradually swelling chest with relief and let out a small breath.

Roy reached out to smooth the messy strands of hair stuck to his sister's sweaty forehead, causing Laura to reveal a sweet, innocent smile.

Laura Crowley, Roy's twin sister by the same father and mother. After their irresponsible father left and their mother died of a serious illness, the two siblings supported each other in this London, growing up together like two flames huddled together, sharing the hardships of life.

Roy gazed at his sister. Her eyebrows were like a painting, her beautiful face like a blooming flower, adorned with red lips. Her azure eyes were like the most magnificent sapphires, shining with innocence and shyness. Her gradually maturing features possessed a natural beauty.

Unlike typical Western females, Laura did not have overly sharp features; she was soft, more like an Eastern woman. Her jade-like skin was as flawless as a porcelain doll, showing a faint pink, delicate enough to be broken by a touch.

Stared at by Roy's gaze, the fifteen-year-old maiden's cheeks gradually flushed. She turned her head away in embarrassment, not daring to meet Roy's eyes, and tightened her grip on her simple, washed-out dress, whispering, "...Mrs. Mary next door gave me some extra fruit today."

"En, Mrs. Mary has taken good care of us. I only did the trivial favor of writing a few letters for her. Her husband should be returning from the front lines soon; we shouldn't trouble her in the future."

Mrs. Mary was the neighbor of the Roy siblings. She was very enthusiastic and would always share a piece or two of the fruit she bought with Laura to help the poor siblings improve their diet.

Roy and Laura had not lived in an orphanage since they were young. Their late mother had left behind a sum of money—it was highly likely that the money had been left by their father, Aleister. As an adult who had already graduated from university and worked, Roy was frugal and used that money to get through their childhood when Laura was still young.

After that, Roy used the knowledge he had learned in the past and present to do some work helping people write letters, barely managing to maintain a living. In this era, there was no such thing as a ban on child labor.

Although he was a transmigrator and the current world was no different from the one in his memory, Roy did not act recklessly like those predecessors who transmigrated, trying to change major historical events. This was truly related to his identity.

The identity of being Aleister's son was not an honor in this era, but a complete death warrant. As long as Roy didn't want to be killed by a mage the moment he stepped outside, he had better behave himself and live cautiously.

"F-fruit should be enough. I'll go make some jam. Let's be a little extravagant today and have bread with jam."

Because Roy was distracted, Laura thought her brother had been staring at her the whole time. She clutched the basket in her hand and lowered her head, walking away from Roy's sight like a gust of wind, a shy expression appearing on her fair face.

Seeing this, Roy only smiled helplessly. But when Laura left him with her back turned and he saw the "painting" on her magnificent golden hair, the smile on Roy's face gradually vanished.

On Laura's golden hair was a pattern like an abstract painting by Picasso, resembling an endless starry sky, deep and heavy. And in that "mural" painted on her hair, Roy clearly saw the face of a demon taking shape.

In the Middle Ages, people said that demons resided in women's hair, and now, a terrifying demon was truly residing in Laura's hair.

"Laura..."

Roy couldn't help but call out his sister's name.

"What is it, Brother?"

Laura stopped and tilted her head slightly to ask.

Although she was shy inside, she did not want to ignore her brother. The two had grown up together, tasting the warmth and cold of the world. In Laura's heart, her brother was her only loved one and everything in her life. Even if she felt a burning shyness in her heart, she would try her best to fulfill any of her brother's requests, not wanting to disappoint him.

Roy didn't speak, but walked step by step behind Laura, hugged her soft body from behind, and lowered his head to kiss her beautiful golden hair gently.

Then, as if testing, Roy whispered her name, "...Laura Crowley."

Suddenly, a repressive and murderous heavy aura surged from Laura's delicate body. Her azure, innocent eyes dimmed, and a gloominess that could never appear on a fifteen-year-old girl surfaced. Even the corners of her mouth, which had been showing a sweet smile, curled up, becoming evil and dark.

"I don't like that name, Brother... I will say it again, I hope you will address me as Laura Stuart!"

After speaking, Laura walked into the narrow kitchen with heavy steps, dragging the basket.

Roy's eyes gradually narrowed. He bit his lip, suddenly turned around, and said to the empty air behind him, "...How should I save her?"

Behind Roy, a figure resembling light gradually emerged—it was an angel!

Chapter 3: The Archangel and the Great Demon

(Image: Aiwass)

In modern occultism, there is a name that can be called an existence akin to faith: the "Secret Chief."

The so-called "Secret Chief" refers to a human or extraterrestrial life form possessing high levels of power and wisdom. They grasp knowledge so vast it defies description and wield near-omnipotent abilities, occasionally imparting fragments of this knowledge to lower-level mages.

Within the "Silver Star System" of the "Golden Dawn," the Magic Society that profoundly influenced modern occultism, "Secret Chief" is the description for the highest level of attainment. It is divided into three tiers, with the most fundamental "Secret Chief" being designated as (8=3), meaning "to comprehend the divine will within a human body," which is to say, the "God of Magic"!

A famous modern occultist, Helena Blavatsky, the founder of Theosophy, was said to have received the favor of a certain "Secret Chief," thereby attaining wisdom.

The angel behind Roy is one such "Secret Chief," and according to this logic, she can be regarded as an extraterrestrial life form that masters knowledge and inheritance.

This angel has long golden hair and a tall figure shimmering with pale light. She is draped in simple white cloth, her Jade Feet—radiating a faint glow—are bare, and a halo of an angel rests above her head.

From a purely human perspective, it is impossible to distinguish her gender, yet Roy feels she should be addressed as "Female." Perhaps it is precisely because of this thought of Roy's that the angel before him, both in the impression she gives and in her appearance, draws ever closer to the concept of "Female."

"Holy Guardian Angel" Aiwass is her name, a "Secret Chief" summoned by Aleister Crowley using the body of his beloved wife, a mysterious existence.

Roy does not know when Aiwass appeared behind him like a lingering spirit; from the moment Roy gained consciousness, he had already seen Aiwass.

Roy once asked Aiwass why she appeared by his side, and the reason Aiwass gave was—

"You are an interesting person, a person who should not exist, the person I have been searching for. I will stay by your side to observe you, to find that place I have sought so bitterly but could never reach."

Aiwass's words were ambiguous, truly that of a complete mystic. Roy did not get annoyed by this, for such a cryptic existence as Aiwass is inherently mysterious and would never easily reveal the truth or knowledge to you. She is more like an observer, observing the existences that interest her—such as Aleister Crowley and Roy Crowley.

An existence like Aiwass cannot be a single individual; she can perfectly manifest as a "plurality." That is to say, there is an Aiwass by Roy's side, and there is another Aiwass by Aleister's side. They are both Aiwass, collectively observing this pair of father and son.

"To answer your question..."