Chapter Text
You can see me there, lost in the dark.
My wings grow. But still, I cannot fly.
I look to the sky and wonder,
unable to see what utterly fascinates the rest of humanity.
Are we humans slaves to the inevitable?
Or is the inevitable what makes us human?
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My faith died the day she was sacrificed to appease the wrath of the gods.
So, from the start, I was only a blasphemer.
Now, all that remains is to question everything.
He was a scholar who used alchemy as an excuse to prove the gods didn't exist.
What is it I seek, that lies beyond human sight?
What is it I crave, that not even the purest drug can give me?
I want to see you. I want to see you. I want to see you again, Diotima.
He wanted to know everything, wanted to understand it all. And his original world hated him for it. They feared knowledge they couldn't comprehend, because… what kind of mortal dared to question the mere existence of the Gods?
What kind of blasphemous bastard advances without fearing the calamities he'd provoke by offending them?
But what does it matter?
What does it matter to offend such fools?
Why satisfy anyone else, when I know what I'm searching for?
Because I, and only I, seek the truth of this world.
Because I, and only I, seek each and every answer.
Because I know, because I'm certain, that the Gods do not exist.
Because there's no way a life more perfect than humanity could exist.
Because if humans weren't gods themselves, why would this world still be so miserable?
Why did humans dance, sacrifice, and offer tributes without receiving anything in return?
Why did my sister die, if the world, if the perfect and omnipotent Gods, selflessly protected their most precious creation?
I sacrificed everything.
I gave up everything to find the answer. Even you.
Now, I can't even remember your face anymore.
Until finally, he found it. And all it cost was his left eye.
The true god...
The only one who rules this world...
Is me.
Only me.
Human beings and I are the only Gods upon the earth.
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Ironically, it was blasphemy —his search for the pinnacle of knowledge— that drew a God's attention.
Oh, Nous. Wisdom. Reason. Erudition.
You are the perfect existence.
The beginning and end of knowledge.
It was only a matter of time before your blessing turned me into one—
to rise beyond the human kind.
But...
Even the blessing of knowledge has its limits, doesn't it?
Because nothing can surpass Nous's knowledge.
And yet...
You made the mistake of choosing me.
You made the mistake of trying to chain me and subject me to your rules.
You made the mistake of believing I would obey.
Oh, ignorant fools. Kings of arrogance and conformity.
What kind of God forbids knowledge?
What kind of sick cult rejects everything that surpasses its understanding?
Aren't questions—the questioning of life's smallest, most illogical details—the beginning and end of everything?
Oh, Nous. Dirty, cold machine.
What are you waiting for?
What are you so afraid of?
There's no way a scholar in their right mind can shy away from their thirst for knowledge.
There shouldn't exist a single being in the universe denied the beginning and end of all knowledge.
Because as long as I live, as long as I breathe, as long as I resist, I won't allow myself to be forbidden.
And if you refuse to yield...
If you insist on continuing to forbid my own search for truth...
If you're incapable of seeing beyond those obtuse calculations and let yourself be consumed by the fear that lies at the end of your destiny...
Then I simply must kill you.
I simply must erase and become you.