Aethelgard was a sanctuary sculpted by Order.
Unlike the chaotic, sprawling capital, Aethelgard was perfectly structured—rigid geometry, absolute symmetry, and an atmosphere humming with the ancient, unyielding power of the Genesis Law.
The entire city felt silent and heavy, protected by an Axiom of Stability woven into every stone, thought, and concept.
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I. Infiltrating the Axiom
My mission was not an assault; it was conceptual surgery.
The Genesis Law manifested as an invisible, defensive field designed to repel any invasive chaotic frequency. My Echo Mapping picked it up as a perfect, monolithic hum—unmoving, absolute.
I entered the city alone.
Hush—my Inversion Anchor—generated a counter-frequency so precise it didn't violate the Law… it pretended to be Order.
I reached the Core Nexus: the central pillar housing the Law's Self-Correction Mechanism.
Powerful Demidemon constructs guarded it—ancient, towering, but ultimately predictable. Their movements were bound by the Law's rigidity, and to my sharpened senses, they were little more than walking equations.
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II. The Strategic Variable
I needed a five-second distraction to execute the threading.
Not destruction—too loud.
Not chaos—too obvious.
I needed something the Genesis Law could not compute:
The Void Legion.
I stepped into a conceptual blind spot and issued the command into the parallel pocket where the deceased Supreme Divisors waited.
"ASCEND, FROM VOID."
A squad materialized in the Nexus chamber.
No sound.
No light.
No ripple of disturbed space.
They simply were.
Led by Zylos, the Void-Reaver Titan, the Legion didn't engage violently. Instead, they applied small pockets of localized structural chaos—refined, surgical, horrifying to anything built on Order.
The Nexus guardians reacted instantly, diverting all their conceptual defenses toward neutralizing the impossible existence of the dead.
My window had begun.
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III. The Philosophical Mathematics
With the guardians occupied, I reached the Core Nexus.
It wasn't a machine.
It wasn't a monument.
It was the raw, unwavering source code of the Old Gods—the mathematical spine of Astra'vhel's stability.
Fenrir's lesson echoed:
"Do not attack the Law.
Invert the concept of its own preservation."
I initiated Existence Threading.
Not to add chaos…
but to twist the Genesis Law against itself.
The formula was simple but catastrophic:
LAW(SURVIVAL) → LAW(INVERSION OF SURVIVAL)
A single droplet of Inversion Energy.
Precision beyond precision.
The Law didn't explode.
It folded in on its own logic.
Aethelgard—this monument to stability—began to undergo silent, perfect, irreversible collapse. The Law's infinite power turned inward, dismantling itself with flawless, devastating elegance.
I whispered the final command:
"DESCEND."
The Void Legion vanished instantly, folding back into their unseen dimension.
I phased out as the city died behind me.
The cornerstone of Order was gone.
And the universe quietly shifted its weight.