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If the leviathan was felled by the God of Abraham, then I was struck down by Jupiter.

My being became an image-negative superimposed upon itself, as if I was both the original object of desire and the captured photograph. Black-alabaster lightning encaged me—mind, body, and soul—in a tesseract that transcended the paltry three dimensions.

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[Paradox event detected//Collapsing commissural tracts of ontology//Quarantining anomalous energy//Setting subliminal circuitry.]

[Esoterica integration successful//Conception stabilized//Generating ontological feed.]

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I fell from atop a seraphim that wasn’t there anymore, its flesh long since sublimated back into [Empyrea].

My friends were gone, only Eli’s shadow left on the concrete as sanguine light bled through the cracks of the parking lot from above. From my innate connection to the [Omniglot], I already knew that it was day time and that the moon had long since been eaten by the black sun.

I was alone and there was neither hide nor hair of where they could’ve gone.

After looking around in vain hope, I prodded at my connection to the world-soul; letters burned into being at the back of my eyelids.

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Entity: [Omniglot]

Sphera: [Lethea], [Luna], [Golgotha]

Para-class: [Red-Aphelion//Purple-Aphelion]

Reliquary: [Ragnarök-Womb], [Stygia]

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I understood then what a paradox-idol entailed: gene-therapy of the soul.

The alien, Outsider ontological code was subsumed into my being, changing me to fit its concepts, its esoterica and its hubris.

The paradox-event had been me peeking behind the curtains of the universe and it politely shutting the door in my face. Right before I was shunted back into consensus reality, I had scraped my skin against the sphera of [Lethea] and become scarred for it.

I checked through my previous esoterica of [Stygia] and found that its sphera had been pruned of [Empyrea]; but its clauses remained much the same beyond that.

Stolen story; please report.

Next, I brought up the newest addition to my reliquary, to the aspects of my ontology that had been changed by another reality superimposing itself upon me.

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Entity: [Paradox//Idol]

Sphera: [Golgotha], [Lethea]

Para-class: [Purple-Aphelion]

Esoterica: [Ragnarök-Womb]

Hubris: [Hysteria]

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Esoterica: [Ragnarök-Womb]

Ignosis: [The esoterica of {Ragnarök-Womb} is derived from the sphera of {Lethea} and {Golgotha}; establishes a commissural tract in the implanted entity matrix between the ontological concept of self to the platonic ideals of non-existence and annihilation.]

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Hubris: [Hysteria]

Ignosis: [The hubris of {Hysteria} is derived from the sphera of {Golgotha} and {Lethea}; establishes an antipodal ligature in the implanted entity matrix between the platonic ideals of information and insanity in regards to esoterica of {Ragnarök-Womb}.]

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Oh how naive I was back then, thinking the paradox-idol nothing more than wasted space in my reliquary.

The horror dawned on me when I struck the killing blow to the Outsider {Anathema}.

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The last monster was felled by my hand.

I slew Death Itself, the nothingness given form, with its own accursed power.

My past life as a theoretical physics major made me question what would happen to an object with mass once it reached the speed of light.

I got the answer to that idle day-dreaming when I temporarily broke the laws of physics. My paracausal energy was running low and I was the last surviving ascendant, last woman, on earth.

Well, on the moon, technically.

I called down the ether between worlds with [Stygia], flooding my skin with paradoxical concepts such as negative inertia and time parity that was simultaneously both polarities and yet not mutually-annihilatory.

I pulled the wool over consensus reality’s eyes so it could do nothing as I made universal constants into my playthings. For an eternal blink, everything contained within the confines of my skin was no longer subject to gravity or the higgs-boson field, call it whatever you will—I was free.

As I touched against the speed of light in the vacuum, I was nowhere and everywhere at once, encompassing every galaxy, every atom, my breath coming in tandem with fundamental field perturbations.

[Anathema] was a mass of inky tentacles, its flesh that of a dark-star, producing subliminal solar flares that tore down the very concept of space and time.

Within its center was a great many eyes, pinholes into its sphera of [Lethea]; the bastard would most likely retreat back into its M.C.Escher’s nightmare like it had done countless other times.

When the universe blinked awake again, I had already wrapped all the pinholes within the palms of my hands, erasing them root and stem.

I would not let it run.

For the first time in its infinite non-linear hyper-time of non-existence, entropy made manifest felt what humanity could describe as ‘fear’.

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By the end of the fight, the world-eater was a tiny blob of ink spilt on reality’s canvas. So tiny, so vulnerable, so helpless.

I ruthlessly smothered it like a baby in its cradle and made it know what it was like to be unmade—a viciously poetic end for the ender of innumerable realities.

When the [Termina] acknowledged me as the victor, the pseudo-computer code glitched.

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[Sensecal not found//Collapsing timestream//Reseeding from time of conception.]

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For the second time for Maria Clara da Conceição Ferreira, it was March Thirty-First, Twenty-Thirty-three.

The clock struck thirteen.

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