บท 6: 06. I Choose You!

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Word Count: 2290 Words

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A massive, grotesque mass of writhing tentacles squirmed endlessly in the desolate void. Countless worms, twisting and turning, coalesced to form its abhorrent body. Then, breaking the profound silence, thousands of eyes snapped open across the undulating surface. Tentacles stretched far and wide, thrashing with violent abandon. Each movement distorted the very fabric of space-time, causing cracks and ripples in the fragile structure of reality itself.

The thousands of eyes, scattered like malevolent stars, darted through the infinite blackness. Their pupils contracted, registering the void's formless expanse. Etched within each pupil was the image of a long, white serpent devouring its own tail—a timeless symbol of eternity, infinity, and inexorable Fate.

Suddenly, the chaotic thrashing slowed, then ceased entirely. The countless eyes closed in unison, only to reopen moments later with an eerie calm. They gazed into the nothingness, serene yet unsettling.

"Finally..." came a deep, resonant sigh that seemed to echo from the grotesque form itself. The wriggling mass of tentacles began to contort, worms aligning and reshaping as it took on a humanoid form. Emerging from this twisted transformation, Williams Moriarty stood amidst the void, his gaze piercing the emptiness.

In his human form, a smile curved his lips, faint yet laden with an inexplicable weight. Running a tentacle-turned-hand through his disheveled hair, he combed it back with an air of casual detachment. Then, with a sudden gesture, he clutched his face, his fingers digging into his skin as a low, rumbling laugh erupted from his throat.

The laughter spilled forth, growing louder, more unrestrained. It resonated through the void, distorting the very rules of existence. The sound traveled across the endless, lightless expanse, mocking the notion of silence in a place where no sound should ever exist.

His laughter reached the farthest corners of the infinite void before finally subsiding. Letting his arm fall limp by his side, Williams exhaled deeply. For the first time in decades, he felt refreshed—clear-headed, unburdened.

'My subscription to the Original Creator's FM has been... discontinued,' he mused with a wry smirk.

He stretched his arms wide, as if preparing to embrace the void itself. Then, with a snap of his fingers, shadows coalesced from the formless darkness around him. Monsters, born of the abyss, emerged in grotesque, twisted forms. Pointing outward, Williams commanded them to disperse, his curiosity piqued by the nature of this strange, lightless domain.

A sudden, faint whisper echoed through his mind—a voice in a tongue unknown, yet dreadfully familiar. The raving remnants of the Original Creator assaulted his psyche like a tidal wave. Grimacing, Williams clutched his head as a searing headache stabbed through his thoughts. Yet, as quickly as it came, it vanished.

He sighed, watching as his creations swam through the void, their movements primal and chaotic. With his headache fading, he stretched languidly, the boredom of his past life creeping back into his thoughts.

"Arrodes," he called, his voice reverberating softly through the emptiness. Floating idly in the void, his body sprawled in a state of relaxed indifference, he summoned his ever-loyal companion.

A voice responded almost instantly, brimming with unrestrained reverence:

"Honorable Existence, Lord of All That Is and King of All That Is Not, Master of the Infinite and the Eternal! Your humble servant, Arrodes, stands ready to serve your will. What does my Great Master require of this unworthy being?"

Williams chuckled, the sound light and genuine. "Oh, Arrodes, your flattery never ceases to amuse me. I missed this. It sounds even better now that my mind is clearer."

With a faint smile, he asked, "Tell me, Arrodes—where do you think we are?"

The voice of Arrodes faltered, tinged with a rare note of shame. "Forgive me, Great Master. Though I pride myself on being your most capable servant, I promised to be the best Butler to Great Master, it grieves me to admit that I do not know. I have failed you..."

Williams sighed, noticing Arrodes slipping into a spiral of self-recrimination. He coughed lightly, drawing his companion's attention. "Stop that. There's no need for all this apologizing. So... you don't know either?"

"Yes, Great Master," Arrodes replied meekly. "My inadequacy is inexcusable—"

"Enough." Williams cut him off, exhaling in mild exasperation. "It's fine, Arrodes. Even I, the Sequence 0 White Tower, the Pillar, and the God Almighty, have no idea where we are. And yes," he admitted, his voice softening, "I know I am weakened, barely a shadow of my former self. But what's done is done. Time will heal these wounds. What matters is that we're no longer within the Original Creator's Universe."

"You will regain your strength, Great Master," Arrodes declared, his tone resolute. "When that time comes, even this empty space will bow before your might."

A faint smile returned to Williams' face, his gaze drifting once more into the endless expanse of the void. "Perhaps," he murmured. "Perhaps."

---

Nodding at the flattery, Williams continued, his voice calm yet tinged with weariness.

"Well, as of now, I only possess the full prowess of the Wheel of Fortune pathway. As for the others, I still retain fragments—some abilities from the higher Sequences—but they are mere remnants. The lower Sequence capabilities from other pathways linger faintly, like echoes of a former self. The rest? They're beyond my reach for now. I suppose losing so many worms, coupled with the damage to my Spirit Body and soul, has left me this… diminished. Who would have thought I'd be reduced to such a state?"

His words hung in the silence, the void seeming to absorb their weight. Moments passed before Williams broke the stillness again.

"Arrodes, I've been wondering… Why does my Mythical Creature form manifest as it does? A writhing mass of worms and tentacles—a grotesque black form, riddled with countless eyes. I think I know the answer, but I'd like to hear your insight. Back then, with everything as chaotic as it was, I never had the luxury to ponder such trivialities."

For a time, Arrodes remained silent, reflecting deeply. Then, with reluctant honesty, he responded:

"I have no answer for that question, Great Master. Once again, I must apologize for my inadequacy."

Williams chuckled softly, shaking his head.

"No worries, Arrodes. I was merely toying with you. From what I recall, it's due to the amalgamation of so many pillars—my subconscious shaped my Mythical Creature form. Naturally, the Wheel of Fortune pathway influenced it to some degree."

He leaned back into the void, as though reclining on an invisible throne. A faint smirk played on his lips.

"Now, it's your turn, Arrodes. I've asked three questions; it's only fair you ask yours."

Despite his nonchalant demeanor, Williams felt a rare clarity within himself. His thoughts, so often muddled and distorted, now flowed freely. It was as though the haze that had enveloped his mind for so long—the weight of ravings, the fog of fractured intelligence—had finally lifted.

A mirror materialized before him, its surface shimmering with an otherworldly sheen, linked to his soul. Arrodes' voice echoed from within:

"Great Master, are you disappointed in me?"

A soft smile tugged at Williams' lips. "No."

The answer seemed to uplift Arrodes, who hesitated for only a moment before continuing.

"What do you think of me, Great Master?"

Feigning a thoughtful expression, Williams replied, "My most loyal aide… Well, my only companion in this existence."

The mirror quivered faintly, as though brimming with emotion. Buoyed by his master's words, Arrodes posed his final question.

"Will you ever abandon me, Great Master?"

Williams shook his head.

"No. You've been invaluable, Arrodes. From approaching Klein on my orders to orchestrating events so I could sweep in and claim the spoils, your efforts have been instrumental in my journey. But tell me, Arrodes… why did you choose me? I understand that Klein was destined to become the next Lord of Mysteries, and Adam sought the mantle of God Almighty. So why me?"

The mirror shimmered, and Arrodes' voice danced around Williams, soft yet brimming with conviction.

"Great Master, the body you now inhabit was dead—lifeless, abandoned. Yet, in that stillness, I felt the change. The threads of Fate twisted and warped as countless Great Old Ones cast their gaze upon Earth, seeking to corrupt and influence you.

Even before you consumed the uniqueness of the Monster pathway, Great Master, you were already touched by the corruption of the Cosmos. And yet, you endured. The taint of the Great Old Ones, the whispers of the Cosmos, even the slumbering will of the Original Creator within you—none of it consumed you.

For many, simply gazing upon your divine form was enough to awaken the Will of the Original Creator within them. It was their weakness but your strength, the resonance of the Creator's power, that forced even the greatest beings to retreat in fear of the convergence.

Even the Great Old Ones, dared not linger. The Gods of Earth were no exception. Those who peered into your form—be they Sequence 0s or higher—felt the pull of the Original Creator, their minds consumed by His will. They who had resisted the ravings of the Celestial Worthy and the Primordial One faltered before the convergence within you.

The Will of the Original Creator and his convergence, that which caused the fall of the Celestial Worthy and Primordial One.

And yet, you, Great Master, stood firm. The Will of the Original Creator resonates within you, threatening to awaken, but you remain unaffected. You have done what none before you could—leashing the Creator's will, holding it at bay. That, Great Master, is why I chose you. The Seven Lights, the Spirit World and every other Worlds bowed to you."

Williams remained silent, Arrodes' words echoing in his mind. Finally, he asked, his tone even,

"What about you? Did you ever try to discern me? And when did you first uncover this… truth?"

Arrodes swirled around his master, his voice growing lighter, almost cheerful.

"It was during your battle with the successor of the Celestial Worthy. I consulted the Seven Great Lights, who had gathered to witness the clash. To most, Klein was destined to inherit the mantle of Lord of Mysteries, and Adam sought to become the new God Almighty. But you, Great Master, are the successor to the Original Creator Himself.

Even I dare not gaze at your Divine Form, I bow before the Great Master.

What they experienced during that battle was but a fraction of the Will of the Creator that you endure daily. They were fragile, drawn to you as moths to a flame. And just as they could not escape your pull, neither could I. The convergence of the Creator's will binds all to you, Great Master. Even the Great Old Ones who fled the Earth could not escape—they returned, as all must."

Arrodes' words lingered in the stillness, oblivious to the bomb he had dropped, yet spoke as of consoling his master. But Williams, lost in thought, his pride hurt, pondered the implications of his companion's revelations.

---

Williams was left adrift in thought.

'So… it wasn't me who defeated them. I was certain it was my power that corrupted them. Has my so-called Omniscience failed me?

Is my Omniscience, not truly Omniscient.'

His mind spiraled with self-doubt. 'Does my Omniscience falter when confronted with the Original Creator? Is that how the Primordial One fell despite their supposed all-knowing foresight?'

A hollow sigh escaped his lips as the realization settled.

'It wasn't my wits that vanquished them but the will of the Original Creator, who fought as my proxy. Am I truly not the One? I had believed myself greater than Amon, Adam, and Klein. Was it all just an illusion? A fleeting dream? I even grabbed a monocle to scare Klein. Though it's another matter that I liked it, which is why, I still use it.'

He stretched his arms wide and sprawled on his back, the weight of disillusionment pressing down. Memories of his battles surfaced unbidden, swirling like distant storms in the recesses of his mind. He thought back to his clash with Klein—a fight that, in retrospect, now felt surreal.

---

It had begun with a dramatic collision. Williams had hurled a Sefirot against the Sefirah Castle, shaking its very foundations and awakening Klein from his slumber. Amidst the chaos of the impact, Williams sought to slip into the castle, his eyes set on Klein. But Klein, ever resourceful, exploited an error in Williams' leap, redirecting him toward the Cosmos.

In his mind's eye, Williams replayed the scene with vivid clarity, the memory painting itself anew.

He imagined himself halfway inside the Sefirah Castle, his coat fluttering in the cosmic winds as he stretched his hands back. With deliberate precision, he reached to his belt, retrieving a strange ball, and flung it forward with unparalleled conviction.

---

Williams smirked, his voice resounding with absolute authority.

"Original Creator, I choose you."

Not to be outdone, Klein, trailing just behind, hurled his own strange ball.

"Celestial Worthy of Heaven and Earth, it's your turn. Go for it!"

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**The End**

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