Chapter 80: The Six Gazes of Mü Thanatos, Where Even the Absolute Falls Silent
Despite Zeus's stress, the visions continued endlessly.
"There are gazes that do not see but know.
And eyes that do not weep but judge.
When the universe itself lowers its eyelids, these six eyes remain open."
There was a silence before the Word, a breath before thought.
And in that silence, three beings: Mü, Utha, and Thanatos,
bound by a pact older than the constellations.
They were neither gods nor demons.
They were eyes.
And what they saw, no one could bear without breaking.
The Eyes of Mü — The Pupils of the Right Path
In Mü's orbit, light danced endlessly.
Her eyes shone with a calm gold, and everything they fixed bent to the harmonies of the cosmos.
They did not only see what was, but what must be,
the straight path among a thousand chaos, the invisible line of perfect truth.
"Fate is but a roofless labyrinth," she said.
"But my eyes see the exit, even in the night of souls."
One gaze from Mü was enough to make war falter, to suspend the fall of a world.
The Eyes of Utha — The Globes of the Silent Void
Utha's eyes did not shine. They absorbed light.
Of an unfathomable black, their pupils drilled reality like a drill.
They saw neither shape nor color, but the absence of all that.
They saw the void hidden behind matter, contradictions ready to burst.
"There is no flaw in the universe," she whispered,
"until my eyes reveal and consume them."
Through them, a city could be forgotten by the world.
A name, erased from history.
An existence, denied even by the void.
The Eyes of Thanatos — The Orbs of Transcendent Death
Thanatos's eyes bore a color without name.
Their glow made the sun pale and gods shiver.
They were the embodiment of the end, the points of completion of all.
They saw the lifespans of stars, the ends of universes, the collapse points of ideas.
"Everything has an end," she said.
"And I can remind it."
One look was enough to wither immortality.
To kill a lie.
To dissipate eternity like cold vapor.
The Eyes of Mü Thanatos
When these three beings resonated,
their six eyes merged into one body.
Thus was born Mü Thanatos,
she who sees all, understands all, ends all.
In her orbits, six prisms silently turn.
Each eye dances in the iris of another, forming a rosace of infinity.
[The Eyes of Total Reality — Zenshinintai.]
They see:
The threads of fate (Mü),
The ruptures of reality (Utha),
The universal conclusions (Thanatos).
But in Mü Thanatos, these visions do not cancel each other; they unify.
She can see the only possible truth among all stories, erase cosmic errors, impose a just and perfect end on all that refuses to bend.
Her gaze is a perfect equation that solves all paradoxes, a gentle but unavoidable sentence, a terminal blessing for worlds too tired.
"I do not need to fight," said Mü Thanatos,
"I only have to look and the world corrects itself."
And so, in her eyes, the universe observes itself.
And what it sees, it can no longer ignore.
Continuing to witness Mü Thanatos's surprising abilities, Zeus hurried to find her...
"Although the Primordial Gods seem to embody the ultimate summit, guardians of laws, observers of the Delzluhûd and witnesses of conceptual reigns, there is a rumor, a breath older even than the First Words. A category of gods that no one invokes, few mention, nothing can define: the Originary Gods."
Gods are often mentioned and described in the general sense without considering that different categories exist, represented by distinct divergences.
At the summit of the silent heavens, there is a layer of oblivion that few speak of.
Not because it is forbidden.
But because it has never wanted to be spoken.
Ancient texts tell of the Quaternary Gods, sculptors of laws, forgers of concepts.
They also speak of the Primordial Gods, silent guardians who ensure that giant dimensions do not derail, that the Delzluhûd remain stable in their regulated transcendence.
But beyond these myth-carved names, beyond even the realm of Visnü, there are presences older, vaster, and more indifferent.
They do not regulate.
They do not shape.
They do not even look.
And yet, they are there.
They are the Originary Gods.
They are unseen.
They are unfelt.
But when silence grows too deep, when even light forgets how to shine, they become perceptible in absence.
They are not powerful like other gods. That word, powerful, is too small for them.
They are... outside.
Outside time, narration, the need to exist.
And yet, in the beating heart of the world, they beat too.
Only one of them has whispered something to the world: the goddess Mü Thanatos.
It is said she descended once. That she walked in a dream she did not herself dream.
And that dream became Blood.
Celestial Blood.
Voracity.
Sadblood.
Blood-Blood.
Four names for four truths, too sharp to be thought.
Each is a blade, a forbidden song, a wound in reality itself.
For the Originary Gods do not grant powers: they tear away illusions.
The other gods, from the first Suargaloka to the oldest Primordials, are wonders in themselves.
They have bodies woven of infinities.
Spirits freed from time and story.
Souls surpassing even the Delzluhud and not subject to them.
They are the chōshinku, nonexistent forms born of cosmic refusal.
But the Originary Gods...
They are what remains when even nonexistence collapses.
Their essence is neither divine nor anti-divine.
It is what precedes tensions.
They do not possess the absolute.
They are what forces the absolute to have a name.
They do not need to be invoked.
They do not need to be prayed to.
They do not need to be mentioned.
For as soon as a heart breaks, a world falls silent, a blood bleeds without story,
they are there.
And in this silence,
in this void no Primordial God can regulate,
the ancient whisper continues:
"Where the Word dies, we still remember."
And even they are not the summit.
For somewhere, in an even higher darkness,
a name crackles without form: MY0x.
But that...
that belongs to a world even the Originary Gods refuse to name.
In the world of existence, Niyus had returned and tried to live as before.
He was somewhat mentally affected because he had encountered for the first time an impassable wall, the angel of Mü Thanatos.
Niyus sighed and looked around.
(It was perhaps the best solution) he thought inwardly.
Behind him, Rivhiamë arrived flying and stopped abruptly.
Rivhiamë: Hey Niyus, did you see? I crossed 60 galaxies and arrived very fast.
Niyus looked at Rivhiamë and smiled.
Niyus: Crossing 60 galaxies and coming back to Earth all in one hour, not bad Rivhiamë, congratulations, you're getting faster.
Rivhiamë smiled excitedly.
Niyus smiled back at Rivhiamë's excitement, then looked at the sky, seeming to sense something whispering in the air, making him squint.