Three Spheres

Chapter 125 - Time

As the fire cut in his throat closes, he rolls on the ground, with both hands on his neck. The blood that dyed his black clothes quickly evaporate, as do the sweat that matted his hair. Little by little, he finds himself wrapped in a white, translucent robe, decorated with feathers and golden threads. As he gets up, he notices his bare feet.

_ Ah... Bastard...

He grumbles, combing his long bangs back. His face is scrunched up, pulsing with anger and grudge. Never before in his life had he felt such wrath.

At every second that passes in that holy hall, his memories come back to live: The Limit of Time, the Guardian Angel, the Witch, the suicide, the murder. His head hurts with the volume of information... How many times has he gotten there? How many times has he denied reality?

_ Ah...!! _ He growls and advances towards the end of the corridor _ This is ridiculous!!

With a push, he opens the double doors with a loud bang. Even barefoot, his footsteps are heavy and noisy. His blue-purple eyes burn with revolt. The hall he enters has a high ceiling that culminates in an ocean of slowly moving silver stars. The white and pastel-yellow walls are decorated with runes, signs, hieroglyphics, and shelves that hold jars whose interior sparkles like fireflies. Flowers made of energy, occupy places of honor like vines on pillars. Their colors are blue and gray, and they drip with dews of light.

Diametrically opposite the door, there are three thrones, whose minimalist aspect breaks with the neoclassical atmosphere of the environment. At the far left, a huge female figure, with a strong and broad body, like a Buddha in a meditative position, holds a Sphere of white light in both hands. She wears a bicornuate helmet on her head and clothes that mimic a Spartans' war garments.

At the far right, the entity is a slender woman with an impossibly thin waist. Her breasts are covered only by a robe fit for a king and her crossed legs are maculated by letters that shapeshift. Her head is composed of two fragments that never touch, but sustain a Sphere of white light inside.

Finally, in the center, the woman who emerges has six arms, whose delicate hands are covered with rings. From her neck, a glassy structure is born that imitates the petals of a blooming rose. This is the only of the three beings whose face is identifiable: Three eyes, a mouth, a nose, with an unbelievably human disposition. Her expression is serene and her orbs emit a sincere, tender glow. Her body, naked, has an open chest, where lies a Sphere of white light, whose surroundings are enveloped in silk.

In unison, the three Goddesses say:

_ Welcome, oh, Archangel; you who defy Death once more.

In front of the altar of thrones, Amadeo recognizes a pulpit whose structure mimics a "Prince Rupert's drop" with the bulb on the ground and the tail, thin as a needle, holding a huge book open to the last page. The pages are iridescent and reflect the stars, but there is blood among the lines.

_ Did you see it?! I failed again!! _ Amadeo exclaims, approaching _ Daemon Cordis managed to kill everyone again! Bastard...!

The Goddesses don't respond. That compassionate silence increases his anger:

_ How many times will I have to kill myself for you guys to do something with this shitty reality?! _ He lifts the sleeves of his robe, revealing the scars from previous attacks against his own life _ This one _ He points to a large vertical cut on his forearm _ was that time I didn't meet Johan in Meigdan, remember?! This other one _ He lowers his collar, revealing the old wound on his chest _ was when I didn't go to the North Sea... Do you remember who died that time?! I do!! _ He touches an "X" in his whole face _ This was when I refused to be Deodoro's student... I remember... all of them.