[Light Bearer Sanctuary]
A blindfolded woman sat in a golden room, perched on a throne made of the same gleaming material.
Twelve wings extended from her back, massive and white, each one covered in white feathers.
Her skin looked sickly, pale and covered in dark veins that pulsed with wrong colors.
The wings themselves were decomposing, feathers falling away and flesh rotting while she still lived.
Colorful energy wrapped around her body like chains, eating away at her existence piece by piece.
But she sat perfectly still despite the agony, hands resting on the armrests, spine straight.
Then suddenly, something changed.
The energy that had been consuming her suddenly shattered, breaking apart like glass and the chains dissolved.
"What’s... happening?"
Her voice came out as barely a whisper.
The dark veins on her skin started fading, color returning to pale flesh.
The rotting wings began regenerating, new feathers growing to replace the ones that had fallen.
Within moments, her entire appearance transformed.
The sickly figure became breathtakingly beautiful, skin perfect and radiant, wings restored to pristine white glory.
And power exploded outward from her body, washing over the golden room in waves.
Whoosh
A figure materialized in front of her throne, eight wings spread wide, golden hair flowing.
"My Lord!"
The voice carried pure joy, almost childlike excitement.
"Have you finally decided to listen to Fate and not interfere anymore? You should have done this long ago! Opposing it only hindered your path to Godhood!"
Silence crashed down across the chamber like a physical weight.
The eight-winged figure froze, their expression shifting from joy to horror as they realized what they’d just said.
They dropped to their knees immediately, wings folding against their back in submission.
"I apologize for overstepping, my Lord! You can punish your subordinate as you see fit! I spoke without thinking!"
"Azareth..."
The woman’s voice emerged soft and kind, carrying no anger.
"Your enthusiasm almost cost you your life on Earth. You should temper yourself before it gets you killed."
Indeed, this was the same Light Bearer who had tried to take Luna from Earth, only to be stopped by the Chairman.
Azareth’s shoulders tensed, remembering his body beginning to disintegrate.
"Yes, my Lord. I will be more careful."
The Oracle stood from her throne, wings spreading fully.
"And no, it’s not that I decided to listen to Fate."
She walked forward, her bare feet making no sound on the golden floor.
"But rather, Fate itself has become weak enough that it can no longer give me any backlash for my interference."
Azareth’s head snapped up, his eyes going wide.
"Fate has become weak? How is that even possible, my Lord?"
The concept seemed to break his understanding of reality itself.
Suddenly, the Oracle stopped walking and burst into laughter.
The sound started quiet but grew louder, echoing across the golden chamber.
"Hehe... I might be the only one on the path of Fate who knew this day would eventually come!"
Her laughter grew louder.
"And it seems the gamble of every generation’s Oracle has finally proven to be true! The sacrifices, the suffering, the thousands of years of planning... all of it was worth it!"
Azareth’s breath caught in his throat.
"You mean..."
He couldn’t finish the sentence, hope and fear warring in his expression.
The Oracle lost all composure completely, her voice rising to fill the entire chamber.
"YES! HOPE AGAINST THE DEMON RULERS HAS FINALLY APPEARED!"
Her hands spread wide, power radiating outward.
"Pride, Greed, Lust, Envy, Gluttony, Wrath, Sloth... Every single one of them! All the cancers infecting our universe! They will fall one by one!"
Her voice became something inhuman, layered with power that made the golden walls vibrate.
"None shall survive his coming! None shall escape his wrath! The age of Demons ENDS!"
Goosebumps erupted across Azareth’s skin as he knelt there, watching the Oracle lose herself to ecstasy.
He’d served her for centuries and had never seen her like this.
"My Lord..."
His voice came out shaky, barely a whisper.
"What... who can even accomplish this? Who possesses the power to stand against the Demon Rulers?"
The Oracle paused, her laughter cutting off abruptly.
She turned to look at Azareth directly, her blindfolded face somehow conveying focus.
Silence stretched between them for several long moments.
Then she spoke, her voice returning to its gentle tone.
"A very long time ago, before the Demon Rulers even began their conquest across the universe, the First Oracle of our race saw visions of what awaited us."
She walked slowly across the golden floor, her wings trailing behind her.
"She witnessed the end of everything. The demons consuming world after world, race after race, until nothing remained but their hunger for power and our extinction."
Azareth listened, his breathing shallow.
"But she couldn’t accept such an ending, couldn’t simply watch it approach without trying to change it."
The Oracle’s wings spread slightly.
"So she tried to interfere with Fate directly, tried to alter the threads to prevent what was coming."
The Oracle’s hands clenched at her sides.
"But how can those who embark on Fate’s path go against Fate itself?"
A pause, heaving with meaning.
"She suffered backlash beyond anything you can imagine, lost all her powers in a single moment."
Her voice dropped lower.
"And then she lost her life as well. Fate claimed her completely."
Azareth’s wings folded tighter against his back.
"But what most don’t know, what has been kept secret across generations..."
The Oracle turned back toward her throne.
"Is that before she passed away, before Fate took her completely, she managed to make one final prophecy."
She ascended the steps slowly.
"Ever since that day, every generation of Oracles has followed the path that the First Oracle laid for us. We’ve been trying to change the end, trying to delay it as much as possible, holding back the inevitable while hoping desperately..."
She reached her throne and turned to face Azareth again.
"That one day, the prophecy would fulfill itself."
Her blindfolded face tilted upward, as if looking at something beyond the golden ceiling.
"And now that day has finally arrived."
Silence fell across the chamber, heavy with implications that stretched across millennia.
Azareth’s breathing deepened, his eyes blazing with something between hope and desperation.
"What was the prophecy, my Lord?"
His voice came out rough with emotion.
"What did the First Oracle see that was worth all of this?"
The Oracle stood perfectly still for a long moment.
Then she spoke, and her voice carried the weight of ages, words that had been passed down through countless generations.
"When Fate itself shall tremble and prove false in its claim of absolute dominion..."
The words carried weight beyond their meaning.
"When the threads of destiny fracture and scatter like ash before the storm..."
Her wings spread fully, feathers catching light that shouldn’t exist.
"When seers across every world fall blind and oracles lose their sight of what’s to come..."
The golden room seemed to pulse with each word.
"Only then shall the universe bear witness to the rise of one who walks between light and darkness, between salvation and damnation!"
Her voice grew stronger.
"Born of two lives yet belonging to neither, shaped by suffering yet refusing to break, he shall become what demons fear most..."
The air itself vibrated.
"The True Demon! The one whose very existence condemns the false ones to extinction!"
Her voice became almost reverent.
"The one who consumes what cannot be consumed! The one who defies what cannot be defied! The one who ends what should never have begun!"
Her hands clenched.
"And when the last demon falls, when the final cancer is cut from reality itself, only then shall the cosmos know peace once more!"
The words hung in the golden chamber, carrying prophecy that had been spoken countless ages ago.
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