Chapter Text
As was foretold, the seal would eventually break and the rift would open in its wake. No seal, no matter how divine, could last an eternity. Even the most insignificant "follower" had broken it for them. How long had it been since Reinier had last seen the sun? A warm, shining glow from afar was matched by its pale moon counterpart. In contrast, Esperia was far from perfect.
For as long as he had been imprisoned, his ultimate goal remained unchanged: to fix Esperia and grant true perfection to everything. Given enough time, he would complete his mission, and everyone could bask in the perfection he had envisioned. Perhaps a few people might have to be killed here and there; after all, their extreme asymmetry was what drove him mad.
Currently, the majority of Holistone was in absolute chaos. Two active Celestials were trying their best to contain the escaping hypogeans, but with so little manpower, Reinier's spatial magic went unnoticed. His current objective was simple: survey the current state of absolute disorder and disgusting landmass, identify the major areas that required fixing, and begin from there. Speaking of which, some ruins has been spotted. A great place to start.
Weeks had passed since he began restoring the ruined lands. He had been making progress, albeit interrupted by Berial on one occasion. Nothing could stop him now.
"Please," a random human pleaded for the third time this week, "you have to stop! The ruins are of great historical significance!" He would have killed this one if she was not wearing a beautiful dress with patterns that emanates pure symmetry.
"I am restoring it to its original state of perfection," he replied for what felt like the third time that week. He was being genuine; he actually cared about the "historical significance" of these ruined lands.
Were the lowly humans not aware that he had been there when the ruin was first built? Hell, he had been there thousands of years ago to fix it – only for the people back then to scream in horror, claiming that he was "destroying the art." What was the point of art if its ultimate product was not pleasing to the eye?
"Cease your actions at once!" a tired voice of fury and fire proclaimed as a four-winged, flaming Celestial descended from the sky. Reinier turned around to face her; this was his third encounter with a Celestial in such a short period of his newfound freedom. The number three seemed peculiar today, a pattern maybe?
Granted that she was tired and injured, with one of her wings under significant strain. He might as well spare himself the Celestial's righteous lecture and somehow manage to continue his work while sparing her pain.
"My name is Reinier, not 'hypogean,'" he pointed out, meeting Talene's gaze. "A name of perfect symmetry." With a mere flick of his arms, the celestial was brought down to the dirty ground; her white clothes were now stained with dirt.
"You should not be challenging me in your current state," he continued. "What is going on in that mind of yours?"
"Do not speak Reinier," The celestial huffed, bringing herself back up. "You are causing distress to those who live in peace, and I will stop you, as part of my duty to the world!"
Reinier was unmoved by her words. "Would you be so kind as to give me your name before you continue your 'duties'?"
Talene took a deep breath once more, summoning her sword from pure flames before pointing it at him again. "I am Talene," she said, her voice heavy with determination. "And you will return to where you came from."
"Alright, Talene," he replied, his tone calm and collected. "I'm aware you celestials seem to be stretched thin lately, hope you like being in two places at a time."