Chapter 12: The GodscriptOpening Line
Before anything is true, someone must believe it. And belief… can be bought, stolen, or broken.
The Quiet Before the Conviction
After Mytherra's fall, a rare calm passed through the Library of Never's End.
Memories that had long been caged began to return to sentient beings across the cosmos — some beautiful, some painful, but all real.
Zeraphin had returned to his post in the Tower of Paradox, guarding the gates between cause and consequence.
Elenai was still, reading her own rewritten history — now no longer a weapon of destiny, but a witness of it.
Aethros sat alone, staring into a single phrase scrawled across the starscape outside:
"Before truth exists, belief must allow it to be born."
He whispered, "Then the next Author isn't a liar… he's a preacher."
The Temple That Shouldn't Exist
The next step came not from the Library, but from a belief so strong it created a structure:
A temple—floating in the void, surrounded by worshippers who didn't know what they worshipped.
It was called the Sanctum of Self-Evidence.
Aethros, Elenai, and Zeraphin approached the temple. The moment they stepped inside, they were greeted with applause.
"Finally, the Believer has arrived!" a voice thundered.
Thousands bowed before Aethros — worshipping him.
Not because they knew him.
Not because they understood.
But because someone had written that they must.
From the ceiling, descending like a revelation, came a radiant figure:
Golden robes.
Eyes of endless parchment.
Wings of declarations.
"I am Scriptor-Primus, the Godscript," it declared.
"Author of Faith. Editor of Doubt. Third of the Untruth."
Scriptor-Primus and the Belief Engine
"Your truths have caused chaos," the Godscript said.
"People need belief more than they need fact. Faith binds reality. You? You are the unraveling thread."
Aethros stepped forward. "Belief should come from within. Not from manipulation."
Scriptor-Primus raised his hand — the worshippers around them chanted blindly.
"We do not manipulate belief. We optimize it. Let me show you…"
He snapped his fingers.
Suddenly, Aethros saw a version of himself — cloaked in light, adored by billions, worshipped as a savior.
"This is you… if you accept the world's need for certainty over truth."
Then another snap — and he saw himself burning, rejected, hunted for truths people didn't want to hear.
"And this is you… if you continue as you are."
"Choose," the Godscript whispered. "What would you rather be — worshipped for a lie, or forgotten for the truth?"
Zeraphin's Betrayal
Zeraphin, troubled by doubt, stepped forward.
"Maybe he's right," Zeraphin said. "What good is truth if no one believes it?"
The Godscript smiled. "Finally, reason."
Zeraphin bowed his head.
Aethros looked at him, hurt but calm.
"You've walked beside me through death, memory, and reality," he said. "If doubt led you here, then maybe doubt is part of your truth."
Zeraphin blinked, stunned by the grace in Aethros' voice.
That stunned the Godscript too.
"You… forgive him?" Scriptor-Primus asked.
"I don't hold faith hostage," Aethros said.
The Battle of Convictions
This wasn't a battle of strength.
It was a battle of narratives.
Scriptor-Primus summoned belief after belief:
That Aethros was born to destroy.
That truth is too heavy for mortals.
That unity requires illusion.
Each was wrapped in dogma, worship, and promises.
Elenai fought beside Aethros, cutting through the false creeds with truths from lived experience.
"Belief should not be enforced," she cried, "It should be earned."
Aethros walked through the false idols created in his name and whispered his own conviction:
"I would rather be unknown and real… than revered for something I'm not."
The Collapse of Worship
Scriptor-Primus began to unravel.
His believers stopped chanting.
Some looked around, confused.
Some wept, realizing they had been made to believe.
The temple cracked.
A golden statue of Aethros crumbled into dust.
"You broke the chain," the Godscript whispered. "You let them question."
"That's all truth ever asks," Aethros said. "Not blind belief. Just the freedom to choose."
Scriptor-Primus, flickering like a forgotten prayer, gave one last sigh.
"If they stop believing, I stop existing…"
And he faded — not destroyed, but disbelieved.
The Rise of Honest Faith
Outside the shattered temple, thousands wandered into the open void — no longer chained by forced belief, yet not empty.
Just… free.
Elenai looked at Aethros. "You gave them something sacred."
"I didn't give them anything," he replied.
"I returned what was stolen — the right to decide what to believe."
End of Chapter 12
The Godscript is gone.
Belief is no longer a leash.
But somewhere in the forgotten edge of reality, the Fourth Author stirs…
She is not memory, nor time, nor space.
She is Emotion.
And she knows Aethros' heart better than he does.
Would you like to continue to Chapter 13, where the Author of Emotion appears — and Aethros is forced to face the feelings he buried long ago?