Mo Wang rubbed his forehead, trying to make sense of this roundabout divine philosophy. "So, right now, you're... the 'Order plug-in' inside the Harmony Aeon? Then what does Sunday, who's about to become the new Aeon of Order out there, count as? A pirated copy? Or... did your successor go astray?"
"He is no successor." Taiyi shook her head gently. "In fear and obsession, he is trying to rekindle the dangerous embers of Order that I personally cooled long ago. The fluctuations of the Path of 'Order' he senses are less my revival than a brief echo of 'rigid order' from the universe, a phantom pain. And his own intense longing for The Family, for shelter, for what is 'correct,' along with his spirit of sacrifice, is warping and burning within that phantom pain."
She opened her eyes. What flowed through them was no longer Xipe's all-embracing light of harmony, but a clearer, more rational radiance.
"What Sunday pursues is an Order where 'everything follows my rules.' But that would only lead to another hegemony, another source of fear. In the end, he will understand that it is not his road."
Mo Wang digested the overwhelming amount of information in Taiyi's words, his brows knitting tighter and tighter. He raised a hand, cutting off her even tone that sounded as if she were chanting scripture, his voice filled with blunt confusion and doubt.
"So?" He stared at the strange existence before him, who was both Xipe and Taiyi. "You set up this huge circle, from ancient times to now, faking your death and merging into Harmony, and now you've jumped out again... What exactly are you trying to do?"
There was a trace of irritation in his voice. "Since you never really died, and the source of Order is still