Sefirot incarnate? It was a possibility.
Under the ancient god's pressure, the Book of Dreams erupted, letting Truman see deeper, revealing more.
Now, he and the Book of Dreams were inseparable, his body's very foundation woven from dreamlight!
"That being the case…" Truman caressed the fourth page, its symbols half-formed.
This was a transformative authority, symbolizing the boundless possibilities and fluidity of "dreams."
Dreams arose from countless individuals' yearnings and desires, encompassing their self-definitions, each person's thoughts ever-shifting, unbound, and whimsical.
This was the third branch of dream authority, elusive and formless, making Truman's exploration through self-discovery arduous.
The half-formed symbols on the page shimmered illusorily, appearing different to every observer, lacking substance, taking shape only as the viewer's heart desired.
Truman shook his head, setting aside the philosophical "Who am I?" "When this page is complete, all will be answered."
He stowed the Book of Dreams and entered the city-state he'd saved from calamity.
"Lord Angel." Hermes bowed to Truman.
"It's over. Let's go." Truman shook his head slightly, preparing to roam with Hermes, destination: Creator's Heaven.
The elves' swift response meant the Ancient Sun God's side could no longer openly deal with the giants, lest today's calamity become a precedent.
Feeling threatened, the elves might unleash a catastrophe capable of obliterating surface ecosystems.
"Wait, Lord Angel!" Not Hermes, but the boy he'd saved.
"You…" Truman saw longing and admiration in the boy's eyes.
Longing for great power, admiration for resisting that terrifying calamity.
No different from other devotees.
"If you wish to become a Beyonder, seek this city's administrator," Truman advised.
All cities devoted to the Creator had Beyonder potion legacies and an effective system for cultivating Beyonders. The Creator's divine kingdom didn't lack mid- or low-sequence materials or characteristics.
"As for your so-called 'sin,' I absolve you in the Lord's name!"
"To compensate for your ordeal, upon adulthood, you may claim a full potion from this city's administrator."
Truman pointed, stealing a ray of sunlight, placing it on the boy's forehead, forming a small sun.
Saying no more, he left with Hermes, departing the city-state.
The boy stood dazed, snapping back only after a long moment. Turning, he saw everyone's gazes had changed.
Gone was the prior hatred, replaced by awe for the sun mark on his forehead.
An angel had absolved him in the Lord's name!
"…" Silent, the boy sprinted to the city's administrator. None dared stop him, having witnessed the angel's absolution.
"I want a potion!" The boy faced the administrator.
A towering priest, burly, a Sequence 7 "Weapons Master" of the Warrior pathway.
"You're too young. Come back when you're grown." The priest shook his head at the boy's slight frame.
"After adulthood, the potion won't be mine!" The boy was resolute, his forehead's sun gleaming brightly.
"An angel's promise—no one dares steal!" The priest was devout to the Creator.
"But I want it now!" The boy swept back his hair, revealing the sun, pressuring the priest.
"You'll die!" The priest warned again, explaining potions' truth: they walked with madness.
"Give it to me!" The boy remained stubborn.
"…Your choice." The priest ceased persuading. "I don't have a true potion on me. It needs brewing, and only one can be made soon."
"What is it?" the boy asked.
"Assassin, a potion granting skill in stealth and killing."
"Good, I'll take it!"
…
Truman returned to his domain, flatly rejecting the giants' meeting request.
At this juncture, open contact with the giants risked provoking the dragons and elves.
The giants, one of the Twin Era's powers, could afford indifference, but humans couldn't.
"Lilith?" Truman looked up, spotting the radiant, beautiful girl perched on his statue's shoulder, overlooking devotees praying to the Angel of Dreams.
In Truman's eyes, Lilith was covertly responding to Sanguine followers.
Those responses blended seamlessly with the dream devotees' prayers, perfectly concealed, undetectable even by ancient gods.
"Too foolish!" Lilith's delicate face chilled. "Why not just go to Auernia?"
She crushed a Sanguine prayer light from the Book of Dreams.
Hard to imagine an ancient god with such emotional fluctuations.
"You're too slow." Lilith noticed Truman, glaring discontentedly.
Compared to centuries ago, her expressions were far livelier, having truly gained humanity.
It was an arduously long process.
Through covert Sanguine rituals and Lilith's relentless pursuit, a cold ancient god, indifferent for nearly a millennium, finally birthed a trace of "humanity" by fateful chance.
That humanity came almost too dramatically.
For the first three centuries, Lilith frantically sought "humanity" to no avail.
Yet, in that long process, she found true serenity in her divine existence.
She was Lilith, Sanguine progenitor, a Sanguine who futilely sought humanity for centuries, and now, her current self.
Her initial humanity was merely self-definition, but granting boons to struggling Sanguine sparked its true sprouting.
It was a subtle state, almost imperceptible. If you claimed it, it was so.
Thereafter, Lilith began Acting key sequences of the Moon and Mother pathways in the dream domain.
Now, it bore fruit, leaping from Moon to Mother pathway, reaching Sequence 2, "Desolate Matriarch."
She hadn't become a "Naturewalker" yet, awaiting the right moment.
Hence her frustration with Truman and Sasrir's sluggish pace.
"Such things can't be rushed." Truman shook his head slightly. Shaping history's tides and scheming against ancient gods risked drawing all their wrath if mishandled—disastrous.
"Let's convene first, discuss inside." Truman opened the Book of Dreams.
(End of Chapter)
Translator's note: LOL, 'He' would now become 'She' unless he exhange to it's adjacent pathway Red Priest.