Chapter 77
"Seed of an Administrator or not, we will not retreat."
"We agree. Even if he carries his full potential."
"And that Anti-Administrator title changes nothing."
"We will hold the two of them here, no matter the consequences."
'Anti-Administrator, huh?Not that I'm offended, but why does it feel so heavy on my shoulders when they call me that?'
Quorin and Valthura exchanged glances, the awareness that they were now facing an extraordinary power clearly reflected on their faces.
They were not simply confronting a Semi-Administrator or an Anti-Administrator, but someone who carried the seed of an Administrator within him—one whose very presence rivaled their Sa.
Their resolve fixated on one thing.
To obstruct Theo's strange and perplexing intentions, including plans that seemed trivial yet serious, such as his intention to invite Aldraya on a date.
With every movement, the siblings suppressed panic, maintaining rhythm and coordination, searching for strategies that could restrain a threat they did not completely understand.
Their conversation unfolded in controlled whispers, each word chosen carefully to keep their focus intact.
They reminded themselves that even though the opponent was not an ordinary Administrator, they would not retreat or yield.
The Administrator seed within Aldraya and Theo's power as an Anti-Administrator were indeed challenging factors, but not reasons to surrender.
Every plan and decision they made was shaped from full awareness of the risks, yet also from the determination to remain above the skies—maintaining balance and resisting the onslaught of a force capable of rivaling their own Sa.
Theo, though not openly showing emotion, felt the weight of the title given to him.
The title of Anti-Administrator sounded like a brand, but deep inside, it carried a heaviness he could not ignore, as if burdening an existence he once understood only as a game or a creative experiment.
It was not anger, but the awareness that every step he took was now being calculated by opponents who stood on equal ground, even if they viewed him as an entity outside the official structure.
"All praise be to the Guiding One, Son of Quorin and Daughter of Valthura.The faithful shall be accompanied by grace, while torment ever awaits on the horizon for those who oppose the Two."
Quorin lowered his head slightly, closing the three eyes on the right side of his face, while Valthura closed the two on the left, forming a ritualistic balance rarely seen even among Administrators.
The brief silence that followed felt tense, filled with the awareness that this gesture was not merely symbolic, but an opening to something far greater than ordinary battle.
Their bodies trembled subtly in rhythm with an internal pulse felt only by those who tread the path of Sa with profound understanding.
Every breath they drew seemed to prepare the entire world around them for what was to come, linking thought, will, and intent into a single unity of energy ready to burst.
In that moment, the air around them shifted, resonating in harmony with Theo's awareness.
A trumpet-like blast suddenly rang out, splitting the silence with a weighty, sacred sound.
The first reverberation swept across the space, containing 111 utterances blended with praise, prayer, and judgment.
One by one, the following reverberations echoed in an almost unbearable rhythm, forming a symphony that signaled the world's readiness to enter its apocalypse.
Each vibration struck not only the ears but also the bodies of those present, penetrating consciousness and forcing every nearby entity to adjust to the newly born cosmic will.
Quorin and Valthura remained calm, their bodies and minds aligned with the resonance born from the trumpet's call.
Their open eyes monitored every movement around them, while the closed ones channeled energy and intent into the cosmic vibration.
Theo, standing slightly apart, sensed the wave of energy—not merely haunting but clarifying the position of every individual involved.
He understood that every reverberation was not just sound, but the embodiment of a force testing the limits of his own Will, Resolve, Intent, and Ambition.
The sky above Theo and the Administrators gradually shifted, as if holding its breath while the first tremor of spiritual gravity shook the balance.
Stars flickered like the cosmos' tears, suspended without falling, witnessing the earth with an indescribable fear.
The ground quivered softly, not from physical fracture but from layers of time shifting out of orbit, forcing all things upon it to adapt to a new rhythm.
The wind lost its direction, bending without cause, and birds not even near Theo's battlefield suddenly hesitated, drifting aimlessly as if their consciousness was also dragged by the imbalance.
Across every surface capable of reflecting sound, the names of the Administrators echoed repeatedly—from rippling water, vibrating metal, to fragile bone—signaling the presence of a force far beyond ordinary worlds.
Theo stood at the center of the vortex, absorbing every change.
He felt the vibrations piercing skin and bone, reaching the core of thought, and realized that what was happening was not a natural phenomenon, but the manifestation of Sa intertwined with the pure will of the Administrators.
Clocks across the world ticked backward in asynchronous rhythms, rewinding time in chaotic patterns that felt orderly only to those who could read the structure hidden within the chaos.
The breaths of every living creature trapped in the freeze of Sa pulsed differently, as though drawing in something greater than ordinary air—something alive and breathing between the cracks of fractured reality.
'Representative of Mercury.'
The air around Theo quivered gently yet oppressively, forcing unspoken words to weigh heavy in his throat, as though the letters themselves demanded attention and meaning beyond mere sound.
The wind turned into silver fragments, dancing like magnetic dust that formed spirals of ancient script across the sky, each stroke seemingly describing secrets of forgotten eras.
Buildings around them resonated, ringing like metal bells struck by storms, marking the moment when words gained their own gravity capable of shaping space and time.
Prayers chanted by humans twisted into inverted echoes, reminding the world that it was now challenging every belief in words and meaning, filtering every intention behind speech.
In the midst of the chaos, someone appeared whose presence could not be ignored—Administrator Ziesma, representative of the planet Mercury.
She stood near Son of Quorin and Daughter of Valthura.
Her slender body shimmered like liquid metal constantly in motion, never still even for a heartbeat.
Her eyes were bandaged, affirming her silence, yet her nine wings beat in a rhythm that projected thousands of languages simultaneously, filling the air with echoes that transcended light and time.
Theo realized, even from afar, that Ziesma possessed a Sa capable of governing the duration of universal messages, altering meaning and time of every uttered word—solidifying her as an overwhelming force rarely matched.
Ziesma's nature appeared slippery and rhetorical—clever yet manipulative—as though every movement and wingbeat was a puzzle twisting logic and perception of anyone who observed her.
The symbol she bore was an eye shaped like a spinning hourglass, turning without direction, affirming her philosophy that time and meaning were not linear but malleable according to her will.
Theo, still at a distance, absorbed this information carefully, understanding that her presence added a complexity far beyond any ordinary calculation—an entity capable of shifting the boundaries of words, time, and authority.
To be continued…