In the ethereal realm of the supre god, the voice materialized from the dark clouds, revealing only its lips to the one present. Erios, the Holy Sword, manifested beside the enigmatic figure, determined to plead for his master’s release.
"I once again ask for your forgiveness for what I’m about to say, but I must. Please release my master!" Erios implored, his eyes locked on the mysterious figure.
But the figure, shrouded in shadows, responded with a voice that rumbled like thunder, filled with anger and a sense of superiority. "Erios, don’t forget who you’re addressing. I am your master, not her. I am the one who brought you into existence. I am the one who granted you life. Yet, here you are, calling soone else your master, a re human. Do you not feel ashad of your actions in service of a human?"
Erios, his determination unshaken, t the figure’s gaze with resolve. "I understand that my actions might seem like betrayal, but it’s not that. She and I are not separate entities. We are connected by blood, by a bond that I did not choose, but it exists nonetheless. You never attempted to sever that bond, yet you make question myself. How is that fair? If you can sever it, then go ahead. I won’t protest. But if you can’t, then allow to be her strength."
The supre god’s anger flared, and he clenched his throne in frustration. "Erios, did I create you as the Holy Sword to engage in conversations like this? Your existence was brought into the world to protect and serve people, not one single human."
Erios remained composed, his voice steady. "I am fully aware of my purpose. I know why I was created, but my existence has beco a tool to satisfy the selfish desires of humans. My lord, have you forgotten that you harnessed the powers of countless gods to create , to demonstrate that you alone are the answer to people’s woes? Yet, despite this, people continue to suffer, and you remain fixated on the power you desire."
The supre god’s threat hung heavy in the air. "I could erase you from existence this very mont. Do you comprehend that?"
Erios, undeterred, pressed on with his plea. "Yes, my lord, you can. But for that, the other gods would have to willingly relinquish their powers. Can you persuade them to do so? If you can, then set free. I yearn for freedom. I no longer wish to be the Holy Sword, but rather, I desire to be reborn as a human for the one who truly understands ."
The supre god seethed with frustration but didn’t act on his threat. Instead, he vanished from the dark clouds, reappearing in a resplendent golden palace, bathed in a radiant golden glow that seed to emanate from every surface.
In his opulent chamber, the supre god’s thoughts churned, his long, ebony hair cascading around him like a dark waterfall. His eyes, a piercing shade of blood-red, burned with anger and hatred.
"She shouldn’t have returned! She should have perished when I decided to end her life. How could she have possibly returned? I hold the authority to take and give life as I see fit. So how could she have altered her fate, changing the course of her life when I had already decided it?" he lanted bitterly.
But his contemplations were interrupted by an unexpected voice that called out his na.
"Marcus Fulcinius Eunius!"
Startled, the supre god turned abruptly, his gaze falling upon the figure who had dared to intrude upon his chamber without permission.
"Who is there? Who has dared to enter my chamber without my permission? Reveal yourself!" he demanded, his voice resonating with authority. However, instead of an imdiate response, he was t with mocking laughter, further fueling his frustration.
"Who’s there? Show yourself imdiately!" he bellowed, his impatience palpable.
The laughter ceased, replaced by a softer voice that spoke with an air of familiarity. "Ha ha, Marcus! I didn’t realize you were so oblivious to your own heart."
The supre god’s eyes widened in recognition, and he whispered her na with disbelief, "Aurelia?"
"Yes, Marcus! I’m pleased you haven’t forgotten my voice, for I continue to reside in your heart," the voice teased, a hint of frostiness creeping into its tone.
"Is this your idea of fun? Did you enjoy toying with every day, confusing my thoughts, Marcus?" the voice questioned, its tone growing colder.
"No! She is not you! She cannot be you. She will never be you. You are different from her. She is not you, and I will never accept that!" the supre god shouted defiantly, his voice quivering with emotion.
"Oh, Marcus! How much longer will you cling to your stubbornness? How much longer will you deceive yourself every day, toying with your own heart? Is it enjoyable for you? Do you believe the person forever etched in your heart will be the sole version of ? No, Marcus, I am but an illusion to you. Break free from this illusion, for the real will not even spare you a glance before running to end your life the mont you stand before her," the voice spoke, its words carrying a haunting weight.
"No, no, no! They are not you. They are not Aurelia. You are my only Aurelia. You cannot be soone else. You are the one who understood . You are the one..." he trailed off, his voice trembling with inner turmoil.
"What, Marcus? What am I? Am I not your greatest enemy? Did you not hate for being a threat to you? How can you now deny the words you once spoke? Are you going to claim that your previous declarations were re lies? I think not," the voice transford into a figure resembling an angel, its luminous appearance mirroring Bernice with shimring white hair.
In the grandeur of the supre god’s chamber, a confrontation of emotions and mories played out, and Marcus Fulcinius Eunius found himself ensnared in a web of conflicting desires and undeniable truths.
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