act42side

Negative.

Humanity does not exist. Variable referred to as 'humanity' is a byproduct of Originium.

Originium?

A... sea, made of Originium?

It's like the sea back home. Calm, beautiful, but one nobody dares to set out on it.

Maybe, maybe not. This is familiar to you because... because the sea by your hometown is here. There's even a part of <i>you</i> here too.

All things that are have been sealed here. A coffin for the world and everything upon it.

Like the crystals left behind by Oripathy patients after they die?

If that helps you understand it, then yes.

Amazing, isn't it? This was once the end of everything.

We are born far too late, our lives far too short. We even unconsciously take some inconsequential mishaps, and turn them into the foundation of our very being.

Like how you blindly took a shattered memory and turned it into divine revelation.

But no matter. The Law wishes to bestow upon you true revelation.

He says: 'None can be saved.'

Originium to Originium, dust to dust.

Personnel with relevant privileges have provided PCS with new set of directives. Cognitive radiation amplifier at maximum output. Effective range: Terra.

Originium will connect to PCS after maintenance is complete.

Originium is inevitable.

The Law created the Sankta from the Teekaz, built the order of Laterano in untamed wilds, and even attempted to establish a Terra-wide religion spanning multiple civilizations.

He has worked for millennia in service of humanity. Surely it was not simply to turn all of it into Originium?

Is that truly the Law's ultimate goal?

Negative.

This is the goal of Originium, not the goal of 'the Law'.

Originium has been set as a prerequisite of 'the Law'.

If Originium is as you earlier described, able to assimilate everything, why is it a prerequisite to anything?

Surely it is more than the end of everything?

How would the Law be able to operate inside a field of uniform Originium? What would be the meaning of a halo in that case?

As Originium is the end of all things, there is meaning in bestowing halos on everything.

Angels before Originium are merely angels.

Angels after Originium are the only method of existence that will retain meaning.

'None can be saved'?

So not even Laterano as it is, a cramped Paradise, can be preserved?

It cannot be saved, nor preserved.

'Save everyone' has never been a tenable commandment.

All things march towards death. The only way to 'save' them is to see them off.

Grant them a dream, a bearing to hold themselves to. Hide their blemishes, espouse their brilliance.

By doing so, you allow them to gladly accept their final journey.

Like how you saved yourself.

Granting dreams to others as a placebo?

No. I won't accept that.

If I have truly, shamelessly clung onto a false dream, put myself through a crucible for more than ten years...

If I have debased myself by inflicting unhealing wounds upon countless others for the sake of self-salvation...

Then all the more reason not to spread this shamelessness and debasement to others.

Even if you accepted it, you are unable to perform such an act.

Only the Law can bestow such salvation.

You can't possibly mean...

Keph's plan... was to give everyone halos, all so they can be granted this 'salvation'?

But how would becoming Sankta help? Are Sankta beyond callousness, beyond cruelty, beyond... suffering?!

We shall not stop at becoming Sankta.

We will all become true angels, Andoain Agathangelos.

True... angels?

Aggy... Agathangelos? I don't like this name. It's too long and hard to read, and it doesn't sound like any of the other names here.

This is... my surname. Before your father left, he kept telling me he hoped I would give it to you.

But, Mamma...

I know it's strange and hard to read, Andoain.

If the other children knew you had this name, they might say hurtful things to you like 'there's that weird boy!'.

Once you head out further afield, bandits may think you're a rich foreigner, while the Inquisition might assume you're a zealot up to no good.

Which is why I hope you never share it with others. Stick with a simple name, like the other orphans here.

I hope you will keep it in the deepest recesses of your heart, a place where your happiness, anger, sorrow and joy cannot touch.

But I feel really sad right now... I don't know if there's anywhere in me that doesn't feel sad.

Is there really a place like that in my heart?

Of course, Andoain. Everyone has one.

I hope that, when you think of this name, you will be free from suffering, grief, frustration, and strife.

Forget the dying and the hungry by the road who claw at your ankles. Forget those in despair, whose minds were eaten away by the sea fog, and the flesh they chew on.

Forget the monster doll your father made, and my finscale soup. Forget the storybook you keep beneath your pillow, and the brush you found in the old chapel.

But I don't want to forget them!

...It's just for a little while, alright?

I hope that, when you think of this name, you will find tranquility... the tranquility of emptiness.

One day, you will need this peace.

Promise me, Andoain.

Alright.

But I still want to know what this name means.

'Angel'. In Lateran, it means... 'Angel'.

Tranquility... Yes, a very apt descriptor.

Behold. Even as they come, they do so in silence.

The ocean of Originium is endless. Those who look upon it soon realize that every observation they make of it is without meaning.

When everything the eye can see is impossible to differentiate, where to start looking is similarly impossible to determine.

But now, above this great sea of uniformity, something shines.

It is as if the edge of the Originium sea has converged into a river that flows into the heavens. Countless fragments of Originium rise up from the surface of the sea, floating up into the distant, empty beyond in perfect formation.

The fragments are jagged and irregular. Some are as small as dust, others as immense as stars, but all, without exception, are crowned with a glimmer of light.

A glimmer shaped like a ring.

Halos...

Beautiful, aren't they?

It's a pity that all the beauty and ugliness in the world is meaningless to angels.

Angels are neither beautiful nor ugly. They are neither high nor low, noble nor base, reverent nor blasphemous, adorant nor disdainful.

They know neither meeting nor separation, happiness nor suffering.

Can they even be considered life?

Does that matter? All the praise we heap upon life is nothing but egotistical admiration.

Observing their forms in an attempt to compare them to our definition of life is simply us trying to find resonance with them.

Then, are they the Law? Are they gods?

If there is no distinction between beauty and ugliness, high and low, noble and base, why would there be one for god and worshiper?

Angels do not understand faith. They simply exist in the furthest reaches of the universe, taking on the most distinctive forms.

It was our forebears who encountered them, shamelessly disturbing them as they did so. In their name, we created a forgery of a dialectic, of god and worshiper.

If all our emotions, ideas and actions have nothing to do with angels...

What does our future have to do with them?

It is because everything we are has nothing to do with angels that we should become them.

Now, this is only a possibility, but...

When the Creator descends, when everything is submerged into this ocean before us, a time of stasis, uniformity, and meaninglessness...

The Sankta within can take on the forms of angels and enjoy an eternal existence, where they shall shine forevermore.

This is the final answer we shall submit to death.