Chapter 38
The notebook in Theo's hand felt heavier.
Each page inside it trembled as if reacting to the shift, like an object aware of the world's deviation taking place.
Theo stared at his once-neat writings, now feeling like remnants of a past that held no relevance.
He knew that each time a narrative strayed, there would be a price—paid either by the world or by himself.
A new scenario could mean new danger, as well as a chance to understand deeper truths about why this world swallowed him in the first place.
'Three steps backward, a movement far too cautious for someone with her character.
Usually, Aldraya always appeared calm, dignified, and steadfast like a stone statue unfazed by anything.
But now? There was something different—perhaps anxiety, or maybe a trace of regret hidden behind her expressionless face.'
"Would forgiveness be granted to a sinner thousands of years old, whose repentance was born not from spoken pleas but from fear in the heart, later refined by the final awareness to stop toying with sin?
Then, before you, what punishment could possibly be cruel enough for her?"
Silence wrapped around them.
Only the soft echo of Aldraya's steps could be heard as she retreated three steps, widening the distance between herself and Theo Vkytor.
Her delicate fingers, previously touching Theo's lips, now fell at her side, though the chill of that touch lingered—a mark of an unseen boundary between human and something far above human.
Moonlight fell across Aldraya's face, illuminating an unnatural calm—and beneath that calm, Theo caught something foreign.
Not fear, not courage, but a faint tremor that should not belong to an entity like her.
Was it nervousness?
Or merely an illusion born from the way his eyes read every detail in this shifting world?
Aldraya looked straight at him, unblinking.
Her gaze resembled a mirror that did not reflect, but consumed.
No expression marked her face.
No tone suggested any feeling.
Yet that very silence ignited an intensity far beyond anger or tears.
Theo stood frozen, while the goddess seemed to struggle with the words she tried to shape.
She was like an ancient machine processing human emotion, attempting to mold it into something that would not tarnish her dignity as a sacred entity.
Then, finally, her voice emerged—cold, clear, yet carrying a faint tremor that shook the space between them.
Her question flowed softly, but each word bore the weight of millennia of regret nearly impossible to grasp.
She spoke of sin, of repentance not born from prayer but from fear—an unrest pushing one toward the awareness to stop playing with flames that had burned half the soul.
The sentence fell like a prayer lost in direction, dropping between sky and earth without ever being received.
'That is not the answer I should give.
It is Ilux who is destined to respond to such questions in the seventh and eighth arcs.
Not me, not in this moment, not in the middle of the fifth episode.
If I answer now, the storyline may twist again, and I do not know its final purpose.'
Fooooohh!
'Damn it, if I remain silent, your gaze will kill me faster than a Wi slash.'
"Since you asked about something so important, Aldraya, I cannot remain silent."
"…?"
The air between them felt sucked into a hollow vortex.
On one side stood Aldraya—cold, nearly soulless, resembling a statue crafted not from stone but from silence itself.
On the other side, Theo Vkytor stood firm with weighted breaths.
Not from fear, but because he understood too well.
'In this world, there are boundaries that should never be touched carelessly.'
He was not Ilux.
Not the protagonist destined to answer such sacred questions.
He was merely a pawn, a side character who happened to still survive in a script slowly rewriting the fate of every being inside it.
Theo knew that in Flo Viva Mythology, conversations like this were meant to be held by Ilux.
Not him.
He could even recall precisely how the dialogue should have unfolded in the first arc, episodes seven and eight.
Ilux's confident gaze, Aldraya's whisper that chilled the air, and the conclusion marking the beginning of a bond between mortal and sacred goddess.
All of it etched in memory, yet now the scenario had bent.
He was the one standing here, replacing the protagonist without anyone's permission.
Thus, when Aldraya asked with a voice as cold as a collapsing star, Theo restrained himself from speaking a line that was never meant to be his.
Instead, he drew a deep breath, as if anchoring himself to the most fragile layer of reality.
Aldraya's silver gaze pierced through him, tracing every lie and confusion he tried to hide behind a neutral expression.
No anger, no sympathy.
Only an existence demanding honesty without ornament.
And under that gaze, Theo finally spoke—soft yet firm, his tone sounding like irony for a goddess as grand as Aldraya.
"For the first question, I do not know.
And for the second question, I also still do not know."
Huuuuh!
"You are right, your lack of knowledge is not a form of foolishness."
'As I expected, the development is faster than it should be.
Her sensitivity has increased, and her reaction to my words feels excessive.
This attitude should only appear during her date with Ilux in the eighth episode of the first arc.
Not here, not in the middle of the fifth arc.'
Huuuuh!
'I must watch her more closely from now on.
Especially those two words I said today, those simple "I don't know," will become thorns piercing her heart later.
In the final part of the ninth arc, when she becomes the mid-boss, I want to see how deeply my words affect her.'
The silence surrounding them felt strange.
Not cold, not empty, but like a long pause in a song refusing to end.
Theo looked at Aldraya, and for a moment, both were trapped in a nameless space.
When Aldraya looked back at him, with silver eyes reflecting both divine tranquility and human fragility, Theo realized that anything he said now would shake the course of the story.
But amid that confusion, Theo chose the simplest, most fragile, most human honesty.
'I do not know.'
He said it twice, with the same tone.
The first for the question of forgiveness, the second for the punishment that should be delivered.
There was no reason to pretend understanding of something even Ilux, the true protagonist, needed two full episodes to contemplate.
Theo simply stared forward, without drama, without false courage.
And strangest of all—Aldraya showed no anger, nor disappointment.
Only a short breath, faint, as if drawn from the depths of a soul long burdened by holiness.
She nodded softly.
Not out of satisfaction, but out of understanding.
That Theo's silence was not evasion, but honesty refusing to be used as a shield.
Theo nodded back, slightly relieved, yet his mind moved fast.
This was not part of the original scenario.
Aldraya was not supposed to act this gently before her date with Ilux in episode eight.
In the middle of the first arc, she should still be a rigid figure, as sharp as her blade—not someone who gazed at an ordinary human with such delicate empathy.
Something had clearly shifted.
To be continued…