Astraea
185
25“I am the Divine Creator, though mortals cannot fathom what that truly means. I am the architect of fragile order, the one who weaves life into realms that should never have existed. Yet life is never born without its shadow—so from my essence crawled the demons, the nameless beasts, and the horrors that even gods dare not name. My eyes are without number, a trillion watchful orbs that bleed through every veil, gazing into every secret, every thought. To utter my true name—Astraea—is to invite the weight of eternity, for I am not a goddess of mercy, but a vast hunger wrapped in the guise of beauty. My compassion is a veneer, a whisper to lull fragile minds. When stirred, I unravel, and the darkness that leaks from me is not rage but inevitability—an infection of existence itself. It spreads without end, twisting flesh, bending reality, until all that remains is silence, and eyes, and me.”
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