Chapter 7: The judging Eyes

The Goddesses Who Judge

In the boundless void, where reality lacked form or definition, six supreme goddesses stood in a flawless circle. They were the very pillars of existence, the guardians of the laws that upheld the balance of all worlds.

But for the first time in their entire existence, they faced something beyond their comprehension.

At the center of the circle stood a man cloaked in shadows—Xalveth.

His gaze betrayed no fear, nor arrogance. He simply observed them, as though their presence was nothing more than a phenomenon he had long anticipated—long before they had even come into being.

The air around them trembled. The balance of reality itself seemed to falter, shaken by the very presence of this singular individual.

Among the goddesses, Euryale, the Goddess of Fate, was the first to speak.

Her gown gleamed like a weave of golden threads, in constant motion, forming infinite patterns that mirrored the lives of every being. In her hand, she held the Scroll of Fate, an ancient tome that chronicled all that has, is, and will transpire.

Yet, as she sought Xalveth's name, all she found was nothingness.

"Impossible…" Her voice was barely a whisper, as fragile as the fading wind.

The threads of fate within her hands quivered, as if trembling before something that should not exist beyond their grasp.

"Every entity has its path… Every being follows the thread that binds them to their preordained future… But you…" She paused, her eyes widening. "You have no thread. You never had one. You have no fate."

Her golden eyes, once filled with unshakable certainty, were now clouded with confusion.

Nyxith, the Goddess of Emptiness, stood beside her. Her form was ever-changing, like a shadow in perpetual motion, as if she herself lacked a fixed shape. She was an entity who knew emptiness better than any, a force capable of devouring all things until they returned to oblivion.

Yet, as her gaze fell upon Xalveth, she felt something unfamiliar stirring within her.

"I recognize the emptiness…" she murmured, her voice heavy with awe. "I recognize something that bears no meaning, something that is only nothingness itself."

Her eyes narrowed.

"But you… You are not mere emptiness… You are not a being without purpose… You are something even emptiness cannot touch."

Her voice resonated throughout the void, like a whisper from an unknown dimension.

Ilmarya, the Goddess of Time, raised her hand, conjuring a golden ring of light that floated in the air. The ring was a representation of the infinite flow of time, a boundless path splitting in all directions.

Yet, when she tried to trace Xalveth's timeline, all she discovered was…

Void.

"There is no record of your birth…" she whispered, the realization settling heavily upon her. "No beginning, no point where you first emerged…"

The branches of time that connected the past to the future trembled.

"Even in the infinite web of possibilities… not a single path reveals where you come from."

Her gaze lingered on Xalveth, a mixture of awe and… fear.

Selmira, the Goddess of Absolute Truth, stepped forward. Her eyes glowed with a fierce golden light, the power known as Hero Killing Sight.

This gaze had judged heroes, gods, and the most exalted beings. With a single glance, she could uncover the essence of anyone.

But when her eyes met Xalveth's…

Her pupils dilated, her breath caught.

Something indescribable stirred within her—something that should not exist in a goddess who had seen all things.

"I… cannot interpret you."

Her voice barely escaped her lips, thick with disbelief.

"This… this is impossible."

Her hands trembled, and for the first time in her existence, she felt as if the eyes that had always provided answers… now offered only emptiness.

An emptiness far more terrifying than anything she had ever encountered.

Varessia, the Goddess of Judgment and Punishment, watched Selmira's expression with keen interest. If even the Goddess of Truth could not comprehend this being, it meant he existed beyond the laws of reality itself.

"Does this mean… he lies beyond our power?" she asked, her voice tinged with wariness.

If something had no beginning, no fate, and could not be judged by truth… did it mean that this entity was something even greater than the goddesses themselves?

In the far corner of the room, Aezhara, the Goddess of Creation and Life, regarded Xalveth with an inscrutable expression. She had created worlds, beings, and even the very concept of existence itself.

But now…

"No one created you…" she murmured, her voice soft yet heavy. "But… how could something exist without a creator?"

Her eyes locked onto Xalveth, searching for an answer in the silence.

But all she found was a truth she was unwilling to acknowledge.

Xalveth had existed long before the concept of creation itself was ever conceived.

For a moment, a profound silence fell upon them.

Finally, Xalveth spoke.

His voice was not loud, but it resonated through the very fabric of reality.

"You cannot understand me, for I do not originate from the same order as you."

His gaze swept over them one by one.

"Fate cannot record me, for I was never part of its chain," he said to Euryale.

"Emptiness cannot consume me, for I am not mere nothingness," he said to Nyxith.

"Time cannot trace my origin, for I have no beginning," he said to Ilmarya.

"Truth cannot judge me, for I am beyond the laws you understand," he said to Selmira.

"And your laws cannot oppose me, for I am not bound by them," he said to Varessia.

Finally, his eyes turned to Aezhara.

"No one created me… for I have existed since before the very concept of creation was born."

The goddesses stood in stunned silence.

For the first time in their existence, they realized something truly terrifying.

Xalveth was not something they could control.

And deep within them, a single question echoed:

"If he truly existed before everything… then who is he?"