CHAPTER 113: THE TORTOISE AND THE HARE

The core temple district of Vaingall shimmered under the twilight sky, its pathways of polished stone weaving through groves of vibrant flora.

Claturian sigils glowed faintly along the ground, their violet light pulsing like a heartbeat, more decorative than functional as usual.

The air carried the sweet, tart scent of exotic fruits, their vines curling up obsidian pillars, blooming under the divine influence of Kivas, the deity of harvest.

Blanchette sauntered along the path, her silver hair catching the sigil-light as she bit into a shimmering fruit—an orb with violet skin that pulsed faintly, its juice bursting across her tongue with a sharp, invigorating tang.

As soon as she reached the periphery of the hallowed ground, her lips curled into a wide, condescending smile, her fingers twirling the fruit as she approached the sunken basin where Yoiglah rested.

The massive tortoise, a living shrine of Kivas’s faith, dominated the grove like a monument carved from the earth itself.

His cracked shell and damaged shrine, still scarred from the Nihil’s assault, gleamed under the ministrations of numerous Limbo Tier Divine Constructs.

The ethereal figures, connected to Samael by a large extension, darted around him with delicate precision, their translucent obsidian dust hands weaving threads of divine energy that stitched his fractures with faint pulses of light.

Noticing the eager arrival of her shrine owner’s sister, Yoiglah’s enormous form shifted slightly, the ground trembling as he adjusted his bulk, his massive head turning to regard Blanchette with a single, glinting eye.

Blanchette’s shoes crunched softly as she stopped at the basin’s edge, her smile unwavering as she took another bite of the fruit, juice dribbling down her chin.

She wiped it away with a casual swipe, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp with intent. "Well, Yoiglah," she said, her voice dripping with mock concern. "How’s the old mountain holding up? Still in one piece?"

Yoiglah’s eye blinked slowly, his deep rumble resonating through the grove like a distant storm. "Blanchette, the jester. For such a message to be conveyed, I have one answer: No need to worry about my wellbeing. For I endure, as always."

Her smile widened, a flash of teeth as she leaned forward, resting an elbow on her knee. "Worried? Oh, please. I’m not that soft. Curious, maybe. You might have known this with your oversized brain, but you’re a wreck, Yoiglah—shell cracked, barely holding together—yet here you are, churning out miracles for Samael, Kivas, and all of Vaingall.

"Channeling their faith like some divine battery. It’s almost... noble, to the point of sickening."

Yoiglah’s massive form settled, his head tilting slightly as his eye fixed on her, unyielding. "I’m content with my service," he said, his voice steady but layered with quiet pride. "Watching Vaingall evolve, seeing Samael change—it brings a joy you might not grasp. The amount of time I noticed that my eyes couldn’t believe what I’m seeing extended to Fathomi’s unpredictability."

"This brand new timeline, and my connection to the deity that housed a shrine on my back... it’s something worth preserving."

Blanchette’s fingers paused mid-twirl, the fruit dangling loosely in her hand as her grin sharpened, her eyes glinting with a playful malice.

She straightened, tossing her hair back with a flick of her head. "Content, huh? With all that power to assimilate, you could be so much more~ Why settle for being Kivas’s anchor when you could absorb, evolve, become something greater?

"Just imagine all of the reach and choices you can make when you utilize the shrine on your back right now for your own betterment, and not for a constant churn of windmill that govern Vaingall under someone else thumb’s~"

"You’re practically a god yourself," Blanchette said with an eerie smile.

The air grew heavy, the grove’s divine hum dimming as Yoiglah’s massive form stilled, his breath halting for a long, deliberate moment.

His eye narrowed, the pupil contracting like a storm gathering force, his voice dropping to a low, resonant growl. "What kind of beast’s tail are you trying to tug, Blanchette?"

Blanchette’s laughter rang out, bright and taunting, her shoulders shaking as she struggled to contain it.

She waved the fruit dismissively, her grin never faltering. "Oh, come on, Yoiglah. It’s hilarious, isn’t it? All this effort—building Vaingall, strengthening its people, pouring your heart into miracles—only for it to reset when the next cycle begins. Poof, gone, like it never happened~

"Ah, and don’t worry about our conversation. Neither Samael nor Kivas could hear it, even when there is a Divine Construct right in front of us," Blanchette exhaled with glee.

Yoiglah’s massive form froze, the Limbo Tier Constructs pausing mid-motion as if sensing the shift in his demeanor. Potentially, due to waryness since they were in range of an ineffable interaction that appeared so abstract, that only Yoiglah could be perceived in this state of moment.

His eye, now a slit of molten intensity, sidled toward Blanchette, glinting with suspicion. "I know who you are," he said, his voice a low thunder that seemed to ripple through the earth itself. "It took me a while to process everything, but your mannerism of speaking, albeit hidden quite well with fallacy and subterfuge, it ended up resurfacing right in front of me."

Blanchette’s laughter softened, her smile turning sly as she leaned forward, her fingers drumming against the fruit’s surface. "Oh, you’re sharp, sharp, aren’t you? Figured me out this early into the run, what a big guy. But here’s the thing—"

She paused, her eyes gleaming with a dangerous amusement as she fought to suppress another laugh. "You can’t tell anyone. No one would believe you, and you’ve got no way to prove it~"

Yoiglah’s eyes shut briefly, his massive head lowering as if retreating into his shell.

When he spoke again, his voice was calm, almost resigned, but carried a weight that pressed against the air. "Everything will be revealed in time. As long as the Unrelenting Vow holds in this timeline, I have no reason to interfere with you.

"But know this, Figure of Red—secrets don’t stay buried forever."

Blanchette’s grin widened, her laughter bubbling up again as she straightened, tossing the fruit’s core into the grove with a careless flick of her wrist.

"Aw, Yoiglah, you’re no fun when you get all cryptic. Thanks for the chat, though—really brightened my day." Her tone dripped with sarcasm as she turned, her silver hair swaying as she sauntered toward the grove’s exit. "Keep those miracles coming, big guy."

Yoiglah’s eye followed her, unblinking, as the Limbo Tier Constructs resumed their work, their ethereal hands weaving light across his shell, and most definitely, reporting this entire incident into their Divine Hive with utmost care and education.

The grove’s divine hum returned, but it felt colder now, as if the air itself held its breath.

"Oh well, that is another failure."

The serene glow of the temple district gives way to the chaotic heart of Vaingall’s research lab.

Inside the room was a disaster—tables overturned, walls scorched with sigil burns, and a thick layer of black residue coating every surface.

Kivas, Samael, and Oizys sprawled across the floor, their clothes streaked with the same dark grime.

Kivas’s face was split by a wild, unapologetic grin, her fingers still clutching a shard of pulsating black crystal that appeared to be blowing up any second.

Samael sat up, brushing residue from her indigo coat, her smirk tinged with exasperation. "At least it doesn’t explode this time."

"Actually, it did explode. Otherwise, we won’t be in this mess." Oizys nervously chuckled, her black feather wings folded tightly, summoned a shadowy tendril to flick away a clump of debris, her violet halo steady as she surveyed the mess.

Limbo Tier Divine Constructs darted through the lab, their translucent forms tidying the wreckage with eerie precision.

One swept a charred table clean, another repaired a cracked conduit with a pulse of mana.

Kivas’s laughter broke the silence, her eyes gleaming with fervor as she waved the crystal. "Worth it," she declared, her voice bright despite the chaos. "Wait, I think this one is about to explode too."

"Should we evacuate that?" Samael asked.

"I think we better evacuate ourselves," Oizys retorted.

What is Dark Matter?

And what does it have to do with the Living Dark Matter project?

Dark matter was a hypothetical form of matter that did not interact with light or other forms of electromagnetic radiation, making it invisible to telescopes or any other sight-related medium.

It was believed to make up a significant portion of the universe’s mass, with scientists estimating it accounts for about 85% of the total matter. Despite its invisibility, its existence was inferred from its gravitational effects on visible matter and the structure of the universe.

However, it possessed a different kind of trait within Fathomi.

Dark Matter in this world possessed a physical residue when forced to be manifested whether it was using Mana Psyche, or even divine energy.

And for the conceptual schematic of the Living Black Cloud could be applied, the very said material must need to be physically malleable and integrable.

At the current point in time, the Dark Matter of this world is almost impossible to be transformed into a malleable state without possessing an erratic and destructive trait.

"What if, instead of making it malleable, we make it consumable?" Kivas suggested with a manic smile.

"I think we should be making you rest instead," Oizys replied.