Cod
The Celestial Church of Destruction
Prologue: Divine Boredom
In the vast expanse of the Omniverse, where galaxies drifted like smoke from ancient incense burners and universes pulsed with the rhythm of creation and decay, Viyrim found himself experiencing something unusual—boredom.
The God of Infinite Destruction lay sprawled across his cosmic throne, one leg draped carelessly over its arm, his obsidian-black hair with faint streaks of cosmic silver falling across his face. His gold-rimmed obsidian eyes, depthless and calm like the last hour before heat death, gazed dispassionately at the birth and death of stars before him.
Immortality had its downsides, and this crushing ennui was certainly among the worst of them. He had achieved what no other being had—power rivaling the Omni-King himself. And yet, what was there to do with such strength when every challenge had been met, every battle won, every sensation experienced countless times?
"Vados," he called, his voice carrying the weight of universes despite its casual tone. "I find myself... uninspired."
Vados appeared instantly at his side, her tall, elegant form graceful even in stillness. As the attendant angel who had discovered him, raised him, and guided his ascension to godhood, she knew his moods better than any being in existence. She had sensed this coming for several millennia.
"My lord," she said, offering a respectful bow. Her eyes, however, held a gleam of anticipation. She had been preparing for this moment. "Perhaps what you need is not more power or conquest, but something altogether different."
Viyrim raised an eyebrow, a barely perceptible motion that nonetheless commanded her complete attention. "Elaborate."
"You have mastered destruction, my lord. You have perfected the art of ending worlds with but a thought." Vados approached the throne, her staff tapping lightly against the crystalline floor. "But there is one experience you have yet to fully explore."
"And what might that be?" Viyrim's tone suggested boredom, but Vados knew better. The slight shift in his posture, the subtle focusing of his gaze—he was intrigued.
"Worship," she said simply. "Not the fearful prostration of beings who know you could erase them with a breath, but true, willing devotion. A reverence born of admiration rather than terror."
Viyrim sat up slightly straighter. "Worship without fear? That seems... contradictory."
"Indeed. Which is precisely why it might interest you." Vados allowed herself a small smile. "I propose to establish a sanctuary dedicated to your magnificence—not through intimidation or dominance, but through devoted service and ritual. A place where beings can find purpose in honoring your eternal flame."
"And who would serve in this... sanctuary?" Viyrim asked, his interest growing despite himself.
"I have been observing potential candidates across time and space," Vados replied. "Noble souls with unique qualities. Beings of exceptional character and beauty who would serve not because they must, but because they choose to recognize your divine nature."
A slow smile spread across Viyrim's face. Not the smile of conquest or destruction, but of genuine intrigue.
"A church? How... unconventional." He sat up fully now, his loose regal-black robes with auric trim shifting around his tall, lean form. "Very well, Vados. Show me what you envision."
And thus, rising from the cosmic void, the Celestial Church of Destruction began to take form—an ivory cathedral floating beyond space and time, built not for war or conquest, but for reverence, ritual, and perhaps a touch of divine entertainment.
Chapter 1: Divine Recruitment
Vados moved through the timestreams with methodical precision, her staff creating ripples in the fabric of reality as she shifted between dimensions and epochs. Her task was delicate—finding souls with the perfect balance of nobility, devotion, and just the right amount of naivety. The High Nuns of Stillness would need to be exceptional in both character and presence.
Her first stop was a battlefield in medieval France.
Jeanne d'Arc stood amidst the chaos, her banner held high as arrows and cannon fire erupted around her. The young woman's face was streaked with dirt and blood, yet her eyes burned with unearthly conviction. As Vados watched, time suddenly froze around the warrior maiden—soldiers suspended mid-charge, flames halted in their destructive dance, even the dust particles hanging motionless in the air.
Only Jeanne remained in motion, blinking in confusion as she realized the unnatural stillness surrounding her.
"What sorcery is this?" She raised her sword defensively as Vados appeared before her, elegant and otherworldly.
"Not sorcery, child," Vados replied with a gentle smile. "Something far beyond such simple manipulations."
"Who are you?" Jeanne demanded, her voice steady despite the impossible scene. "An angel of the Lord?"
"Not quite," Vados replied, her voice melodious and calming. "I represent a different kind of divinity—one that could use your dedication and leadership. A position of true spiritual importance."
"My loyalty is to God and France," Jeanne stated firmly, though her sword lowered slightly.
"And how has that loyalty been rewarded?" Vados gestured to the timeline that stretched before them like a tapestry, revealing scenes that had not yet come to pass—Jeanne's capture, her trial, and finally her terrible fate at the stake, flames consuming her as she called out to her God.
Jeanne's face paled, but her composure never faltered. "If that is God's will for me, then I accept it. There must be a greater purpose to my suffering."
"Indeed there is. One where your devotion is valued, your leadership essential." Vados circled the young woman, her staff leaving trails of light in the frozen air. "You would be the High Priestess of Judgment in the Celestial Church, serving a divine being of incomparable power—not through fear, but through reverence and ritual."
"And what of my mission here? My people need me."
Vados waved a hand dismissively. "Time is fluid for beings such as myself. I can return you to this exact moment once your service is complete, if you so wish. Or..." She paused meaningfully. "I can select you from the moment before your execution, sparing you that pain entirely."
Jeanne considered this, her tactical mind assessing the spiritual implications. "This being you serve... is he good? Does he protect the innocent?"
"Lord Viyrim is beyond such simple categorizations as good or evil," Vados explained. "He is a force of nature, a cosmic necessity. And yes, in his own way, he protects what he values."
After careful consideration and divine negotiation (and perhaps a bit of timeline manipulation that Vados didn't fully disclose), Jeanne finally nodded. "I will serve this new purpose, at least long enough to understand it better. If this Lord Viyrim proves unworthy of devotion, I will return to my fate here."
"A fair arrangement," Vados agreed, knowing full well that once Jeanne experienced the full presence of Viyrim, there would be no returning to her former life by choice.
And so the pattern continued across dimensions and eras.
In Camelot, a young Artoria Pendragon was approached during a rare moment of doubt beneath an ancient oak tree, where she questioned if she truly had the strength to bear the burden of kingship. Vados offered her a different path—one where her purity of heart and noble spirit could serve a higher purpose.
"Your sword arm and your ideals would be valuable assets to our church," Vados told her. "And perhaps, in serving Lord Viyrim, you might find the purpose you seek."
In ancient Colchis, a disillusioned Medea, betrayed by Jason and estranged from her homeland, was offered redemption through service. "Your magical talents are wasted in this realm," Vados observed as she found the young sorceress weeping beside the sea. "In the Celestial Church, your gifts would be honored, your devotion cherished."
One by one, Vados collected her chosen disciples from moments of crisis or transformation in their lives—times when they were most vulnerable to the promise of purpose and belonging.
Rin Tohsaka was selected during the aftermath of a magical catastrophe, her brilliant mind and disciplined nature making her perfect for managing the church's more practical affairs. Stheno, the divine serpent sister, was approached during her exile, her ethereal beauty and hypnotic voice deemed ideal for the church's ceremonial aspects.
The shy Miyu Edelfelt was rescued from a sacrificial ritual, her innocent devotion redirected toward Viyrim instead. Mysterious Lavinia Whateley was found at the threshold between sanity and cosmic awareness, her connection to forbidden knowledge making her uniquely suited to understand the deeper nature of Viyrim's power.
Honest Gareth was recruited during her quest to become a knight, her unwavering loyalty and pure heart deemed perfect for the church's protective services. And gentle Medea Lily, a version of Medea from before her heart hardened with betrayal, was chosen for her healing abilities and nurturing nature.
Each was carefully selected, each approached at precisely the right moment, and each given just enough information to intrigue them without overwhelming them with the full truth of what awaited.
By the time Vados returned to the cosmic throne room, she had assembled her chosen congregation—nine exceptional women from across time and space, each bringing unique qualities and abilities to the divine service of Viyrim.
"It is done, my lord," she announced with satisfaction. "The High Nuns of Stillness await your presence at the Celestial Cathedral."
Viyrim, who had been idly creating and destroying miniature galaxies between his fingertips, looked up with renewed interest. "Then I suppose it's time I met these devoted servants of mine."
His lips curled into a smile that held both amusement and curiosity. Perhaps this experiment would prove entertaining after all.
Chapter 2: First Encounters
The newly gathered nuns stood in awkward silence within the grand cathedral's antechamber, the ivory-white walls soaring impossibly high above them. Stained glass windows depicting cosmic events none of them recognized filtered in light of strange colors, casting prismatic patterns across the marble floor.
None of them had met before, yet all felt the strange pull of shared purpose—even if that purpose remained frustratingly vague.
Metatron Jeanne d'Arc, still mentally adjusting to her new title and the six radiant angel wings that now adorned her back, took charge naturally. Her flowing white and gold vestments rustled softly as she stepped forward, addressing the assembled women.
"Sisters," she began, her voice clear and commanding, "we have all been chosen for a divine purpose. While we await further instruction, perhaps we should introduce ourselves and share what we know of our... situation."
Saber Lily, formerly known as Artoria Pendragon, nodded in agreement. The young knight-nun stood tall despite her slight frame, her pristine white and silver armor gleaming in the ethereal light. "A sound suggestion. Unity begins with understanding."
She bowed formally to the group. "I am Artoria of Camelot, though I'm to be called Saber Lily here. I was told I would serve as the Knight Nun of Purity, training others in both combat and proper conduct."
Young Medea stepped forward next, her long lavender hair and gentle violet eyes giving her an air of delicate wisdom. "I am Medea of Colchis, Cleric of Magical Liturgy." She clutched a bundle of scrolls to her chest. "My magical abilities are to be used in service of our lord's worship, it seems."
One by one, they introduced themselves—Rin Tohsaka with her confident demeanor slightly undermined by her obvious confusion; Stheno with her mysterious smile and graceful movements; shy Miyu who could barely meet anyone's eyes; veiled Lavinia whose soft whispers somehow carried perfectly; earnest Gareth with her polished armor and eager expression; and gentle Medea Lily whose kind smile put everyone slightly more at ease.
"But what exactly are our duties to be?" Young Medea asked after the introductions concluded. "The celestial being who recruited me—Vados, I believe—was rather vague about specifics."
"We are to provide service, devotion, and establish proper rituals," Jeanne replied, though her brow furrowed slightly. "Beyond that, I'm afraid I have little concrete information."
Artoria polished her ceremonial sword out of habit. "I was told we would train others. Will there be combat?"
"I imagine it's more spiritual combat," Rin interjected, adjusting her crimson and black habit with a perpetual blush. "Though I'm still unclear on why my uniform is quite so... formfitting."
Stheno merely smiled cryptically, running slender fingers through her lilac hair. "I believe we are to make our lord comfortable in all ways that divine beings require comfort."
"Which means what exactly?" asked Gareth, the youngest among them, genuine confusion on her face.
Before anyone could answer, the massive cathedral doors swung open with a resonant boom that seemed to vibrate through the very fabric of reality. Vados entered, her tall form gliding rather than walking across the polished floor. Her expression was serene, her movements precise and elegant.
"Honored sisters," she began, her voice carrying effortlessly throughout the vast chamber. "Today begins your service to Lord Viyrim, God of Infinite Destruction and the One True Flame of the Omniverse."
Several of the nuns exchanged alarmed glances at the title "God of Destruction," but Vados continued before any could voice concerns.
"I trust you've all had time to acquaint yourselves with your quarters and ceremonial garments." She gestured to the white and gold outfits each now wore, each subtly tailored to emphasize the wearer's unique qualities while maintaining an air of divine service. "Lord Viyrim will arrive shortly. Remember, your purpose is to create a sanctuary of peace, reverence, and perfect service."
Lavinia Whateley, half-hidden beneath her dark veil, spoke in a whisper that nonetheless seemed to reach every corner of the room. "What pleases him? What should we avoid?"
Vados smiled enigmatically. "You will learn his preferences through devoted observation. That is part of your sacred duty."
A cosmic rumble suddenly shook the cathedral, causing several of the stained glass windows to vibrate in their frames. Vados straightened, a almost imperceptible flicker of anticipation crossing her usually composed features.
"He approaches. Remember your training."
"What training?" Rin muttered under her breath. "We just got here."
"Improvise," hissed Jeanne as they hurriedly arranged themselves in a ceremonial formation they were each somehow instinctively aware of, despite never having practiced it.
The air before them shimmered and distorted, reality itself seeming to bend around a single point. Then, in a display of cosmic power that was both terrifying and breathtaking, Viyrim materialized before them.
He was tall—around 6'3"—with a lean yet powerfully structured build, his tan skin seeming to glow with an inner light. His thick, layered obsidian-black hair with faint streaks of cosmic silver fell carelessly across his forehead, framing gold-rimmed obsidian eyes that contained depths no mortal mind could fully comprehend. His loose regal-black robes with auric trim only enhanced his divine presence, and his barefoot stance somehow made him seem more rather than less imposing.
But it was his aura that truly affected them all—like standing before a big bang contained in physical form, a force of creation and destruction so perfectly balanced that it seemed to hum with potential energy. The very air around him vibrated with power.
Each nun reacted differently to this overwhelming presence:
Jeanne's eyes widened slightly, her theological mind struggling to reconcile this being with her previous understanding of divinity.
Artoria instinctively placed a hand on her sword hilt before forcing it to relax, her knight's instincts both warning of danger and recognizing a liege worthy of service.
Young Medea's lips parted in silent wonder, her magical senses nearly overwhelmed by the cosmic energy emanating from him.
Rin's face flushed a deep crimson, her disciplined composure cracking as she felt the full impact of his presence.
Stheno's smile deepened, a genuine fascination replacing her usual practiced charm.
Miyu took an involuntary step backward, overwhelmed by such proximity to divine power, while Lavinia leaned forward instead, her veiled face tilted as if listening to whispers only she could hear.
Gareth immediately dropped to one knee in knightly fealty, while Medea Lily clutched her vials of healing oils to her chest, her healer's instincts assessing this being not for wounds but for needs she might fulfill.
"So," Viyrim said, his voice resonating through the cathedral halls with casual power, "this is my church."
Nine pairs of eyes stared back at him with varying degrees of awe, apprehension, and in Rin's case, poorly concealed indignation at being caught so off-guard.
The cosmic being's lips quirked into a half-smile as he surveyed his new congregation. "This should be... interesting."
His gaze moved slowly from one nun to another, seeming to evaluate each of them in turn. When he finally spoke again, his tone held mild amusement.
"Vados tells me you have been selected for your exceptional qualities. That you are to establish rituals of worship and service." He stretched languidly, the movement somehow making the vast cathedral seem smaller. "I admit, I have little experience with being worshipped in this fashion. My usual interactions with lesser beings involve considerably more cowering."
Jeanne, finding her voice first, stepped forward and bowed deeply. "My lord, we are honored to serve as your faithful attendants. If you would guide us in how you wish to be venerated, we will establish the appropriate ceremonies."
Viyrim raised an eyebrow. "But that would defeat the purpose, wouldn't it? As I understand it, part of this experiment is for you to determine the forms of worship yourselves." He turned to Vados with a questioning look.
"Indeed, my lord," Vados confirmed. "The High Nuns of Stillness are to create a unique devotional practice suited to your divine nature. I have provided them with the basic structure of morning rites, midday confession, and evening service, but the specific elements are for them to develop."
"I see." Viyrim returned his attention to the nuns. "Then I shall observe your efforts with interest. Surprise me, if you can. Few things do these days."
With that enigmatic statement, he turned and began to walk toward the inner sanctum of the cathedral.
"My lord," called Rin, surprising even herself with her boldness. "We have prepared chambers for you. Would you like to be shown to them?"
Viyrim paused, looking back over his shoulder with that same half-smile. "Yes, I suppose that would be appropriate. Lead on, Nun of Discipline."
Rin swallowed hard, nodding and moving forward to guide him. As they departed, the remaining nuns exchanged looks that ranged from apprehensive to bewildered.
"That," Medea said softly once Viyrim was out of earshot, "is a god of destruction?"
"He seems so... casual," added Gareth with confusion.
Jeanne's expression was thoughtful. "Remember, sisters, appearances can be deceiving. I sense immense power contained within him—power that could unmake worlds with but a thought."
"Then why does he need us?" asked Miyu, her voice barely above a whisper.
It was Lavinia who answered, her hidden eyes somehow seeing more than the others. "Because godhood is lonely," she murmured. "And even destruction seeks purpose."
Meanwhile, Rin led Viyrim through the cathedral's winding corridors, desperately trying to maintain her composure despite being acutely aware of the divine being walking just behind her.
"These halls are quite labyrinthine," Viyrim commented, his eyes wandering over the intricate architecture.
"Yes, my lord. Vados explained that the cathedral exists partially outside normal space-time, allowing it to be larger on the inside than should be physically possible."
"A minor manipulation of dimensional barriers," Viyrim said dismissively. "Child's play, really."
Rin bit her lip, unsure how to respond to such casual references to cosmic power. "Here we are, my lord. Your private chambers."
She opened an ornate door to reveal a vast suite decorated in midnight blue and gold. A massive bed dominated one wall, while another featured a balcony that somehow opened onto a view of swirling galaxies despite being inside the cathedral.
"Vados has thought of everything, it seems," Viyrim observed, entering the room and running a hand along a table carved from what appeared to be solidified starlight. "It will do."
Rin bowed, backing toward the door. "If there's anything you require, my lord, you need only call."
Viyrim turned, fixing her with those depthless eyes. "Tell me, Nun of Discipline, why did you accept this position? The others I can somewhat understand—the warrior-saint seeks a new divine master, the knights seek a liege to serve, the mages seek cosmic knowledge. But you... you seem too independent for blind devotion."
Rin straightened, caught off guard by the direct question. After a moment's consideration, she decided honesty was likely the best approach with a being who could probably sense deception.
"I was told I would help establish something unprecedented—a new form of divine worship based on willing devotion rather than fear. The theological and practical challenges intrigued me." She met his gaze directly. "And I was curious about what kind of god would desire such a thing."
Viyrim's expression shifted to genuine interest. "And now that you've met this god?"
"I reserve judgment until I know more," Rin replied diplomatically. "Divine beings often have layers of complexity beyond mortal understanding."
A laugh escaped him—a rich, surprising sound. "Well answered, Nun of Discipline. Very well, I'll allow you your observation period." He made a dismissive gesture. "You may go prepare with your sisters. I believe I shall rest before experiencing whatever ritual you devise for this evening."
Rin bowed again and retreated, closing the door behind her. Only when she was several corridors away did she allow herself to lean against a wall, her heart pounding uncomfortably in her chest.
"What have we gotten ourselves into?" she whispered to the empty hallway.
Chapter 3: Ritual Improvisation
"The morning ritual begins in exactly one hour," Jeanne announced to the assembled nuns in their private common room. "And we have no idea what we're doing."
After Viyrim's arrival the previous day, the God of Destruction had retired to his chambers, leaving the nuns to frantically plan the devotional practices they were supposedly experts in performing.
"Vados provided this," Artoria said, holding up a slim volume bound in what appeared to be celestial leather. "It contains outlines of the basic rituals, but the details are... unsettling."
Rin took the book, flipping through it with increasing disbelief. "The sacred texts indicate the awakening ceremony requires 'holy tongue-kisses to the collarbone,'" she read aloud, her voice rising with each word. "That can't possibly be right. There must be a mistranslation."
Stheno smiled serenely. "I volunteer to perform this sacred duty."
"As High Priestess, it should be my responsibility," Jeanne countered, though her cheeks had colored slightly.
Artoria cleared her throat. "Perhaps we should draw lots?"
Young Medea, who had been examining the text over Rin's shoulder, pointed to another passage. "It also mentions 'hymnals sung while massaging his feet with perfumed oil.' That seems more... appropriate for divine service, doesn't it?"
"We should focus on establishing a sequence," Lavinia suggested quietly. "The morning ritual should awaken not just our lord but his divine energy. We begin with subtle touches, progress to harmonious sounds, and culminate in focused devotional acts."
The others stared at her in surprise.
"What?" she asked, her voice barely audible behind her veil. "I've studied many religious practices in my research of forbidden knowledge."
"Lavinia's right," Jeanne decided. "We need structure. Medea, can you prepare appropriate hymns?"
The young mage nodded. "I have several magical songs that could be adapted."
"Miyu and Medea Lily, you'll be responsible for the sacred oils. Gareth and Artoria, you'll provide ceremonial protection during the ritual. Stheno will lead the hymns, Lavinia will monitor the cosmic energies, and Rin will ensure everything proceeds with proper discipline."
"And you?" asked Rin with a raised eyebrow.
"I will lead the overall ceremony, as is my duty as High Priestess," Jeanne replied firmly.
After further discussion and hasty preparation, the nuns gathered outside Viyrim's chamber precisely on schedule, each carrying items needed for their part of the improvised ritual. Their nervousness was palpable.
"Remember," Jeanne whispered as she prepared to knock, "we are divine attendants with a sacred purpose. Confidence is essential."
She rapped gently on the massive door, which swung open of its own accord to reveal the dimly lit chamber beyond. Viyrim lay sprawled across his bed, apparently still sleeping, his chest rising and falling with steady breaths.
The nuns entered in formation, moving with as much grace as their frayed nerves allowed. As they approached the bed, however, Viyrim spoke without opening his eyes.
"You're late."
Jeanne froze mid-step. "My lord? We are precisely on time according to the celestial chronometer."
"Time is relative," Viyrim replied, finally opening those depthless eyes. "And I've been awake for seventeen minutes, wondering when this alleged morning ritual would begin."
"Forgive us, divine one," Jeanne began formally. "We were... discussing the proper interpretation of the morning rites."
"I see." His eyes swept over them, taking in their ceremonial garments and the various implements they carried. "And your conclusion?"
After an awkward pause, Medea Lily stepped forward with a small bottle of iridescent liquid. "We shall begin with the foot massage portion using the sacred oils, if it pleases you, my lord."
Viyrim raised an eyebrow but shifted to sit at the edge of the bed, extending his bare feet. "Very well."
What followed was a comedy of errors as the nine overly formal, intensely dedicated women attempted to coordinate a ritual they had never rehearsed. Medea Lily knelt to apply the scented oil to Viyrim's feet, her gentle healer's hands trembling slightly with the gravity of her task. Young Medea and Stheno positioned themselves to begin the hymnal, while Jeanne prepared to oversee the proceedings.
The problems began when Gareth, eager to fulfill her protective duty, accidentally bumped into Miyu, who was holding a tray of additional ceremonial items. The tray tilted, sending several crystal vials rolling across the floor.
"S-sorry!" Miyu gasped, dropping to her knees to retrieve them.
At the same moment, Medea began her magical incantation, but her nervousness caused her voice to crack on a high note, sending a small spark of unintended magic toward Rin, whose ceremonial vestments suddenly tightened around her waist.
"Medea!" Rin hissed, trying to loosen the constricting fabric.
Meanwhile, Lavinia, attempting to monitor the cosmic energies, swayed slightly as her senses picked up Viyrim's immense power. "The harmonic convergence is fluctuating," she whispered urgently. "We must stabilize the ritual current."
Artoria, taking this as a cue for action, began a formal knightly invocation, her clear voice overlapping with Stheno's more melodic tones as the serpent nun had already begun her part of the hymn.
Through it all, Viyrim watched with increasing amusement as his allegedly well-trained attendants dissolved into barely controlled chaos. Medea Lily continued her foot massage with single-minded focus, even as Miyu crawled past her to retrieve a runaway vial, and Jeanne attempted to restore order with increasingly desperate hand signals.
When Gareth accidentally headbutted Lavinia in their earnest attempts to provide perfect service, Viyrim finally intervened.
"Perhaps," he suggested, his voice cutting through the disorder like a hot knife through cosmic butter, "we should establish a rotation system. One attendant per task, rather than all of you attempting everything simultaneously."
The nuns froze in their various positions of disarray, mortification washing over their faces as they realized how their "sacred ritual" must appear to their divine lord.
"An excellent suggestion, my lord," Jeanne managed, straightening her slightly askew mitre. "We shall implement it immediately."
Viyrim's lips twitched with suppressed laughter. "For now, let's simplify. You—" he pointed to Medea Lily, "—continue with the foot massage. You have skilled hands." The young healer blushed deeply at the praise. "The rest of you may take a step back and provide your hymn without physical interference."
Under his direct guidance, the ritual gradually took shape. Stheno led a harmonious chant that Young Medea enhanced with subtle magical resonance. Lavinia provided quiet insights into the cosmic energies, which Jeanne incorporated into formal prayers. Artoria and Gareth maintained a ceremonial guard position that actually complemented rather than complicated the proceedings.
By the time the improvised ritual concluded, it had achieved a surprising degree of genuine reverence despite its chaotic beginnings. Viyrim stood, stretching languidly.
"Not without merit," he declared, which the nuns chose to interpret as high praise given the circumstances. "I look forward to seeing how you refine this in the days to come."
After he dismissed them to prepare for the midday activities, the nuns retreated to their common room in a state of mingled relief and embarrassment.
"That was a disaster," Rin groaned, collapsing into a chair.
"Not entirely," Artoria countered. "By the end, there was a certain... harmony to our service."
"He didn't smite us, which I count as a victory," added Young Medea with gallows humor.
Jeanne paced the room, her wings occasionally brushing against the high ceiling. "We must do better. The midday confession is only a few hours away, and the evening service must be perfect. We are the High Nuns of Stillness, chosen for a divine purpose. We cannot fail in our sacred duty."
"Perhaps we're approaching this wrong," Stheno suggested, her golden eyes thoughtful. "We're trying to impose traditional religious formats on a being who is clearly nontraditional. Lord Viyrim seems to appreciate authenticity more than perfect execution."
"Stheno may be right," Lavinia whispered. "I sensed his cosmic energy responding most strongly not to our practiced movements, but to our genuine moments of dedication."
Miyu, who had been quiet since her mishap with the vials, spoke up hesitantly. "When I was retrieving the sacred oils, I was so focused on not disappointing him that I forgot to be afraid of his power. And in that moment, I felt... connected to something greater."
The others considered this insight.
"Then for the midday confession," Jeanne decided, "we shall be more authentic. Less choreographed perfection, more genuine devotion."
"That still doesn't explain what a 'midday confession' actually entails," Rin pointed out practically. "The text only says we 'kneel in circles, sharing what parts of our body we believe to be most blessed by his presence,' which sounds highly inappropriate for a religious ceremony."
"Not necessarily," Lavinia countered softly. "Many divine worship traditions include recognition of how the deity's power affects the physical form. It could be interpreted as identifying which aspects of our being have been most strengthened or purified by Lord Viyrim's divine energy."
"That... actually makes sense," Rin admitted, looking slightly relieved.
And so they planned again, this time focusing less on perfect coordination and more on creating a genuine experience of shared devotion. When midday arrived, they gathered in the cathedral's central chamber, where Viyrim awaited them on his obsidian throne.
The midday confession proceeded with far greater success. Arranged in a circle before their lord, each nun spoke in turn about how his divine presence had affected them—Jeanne felt his power strengthen her sense of purpose, Artoria found her sword arm steadier, Young Medea sensed her magical abilities refined. Each testimony was personal yet respectful, creating a gradually deepening atmosphere of genuine reverence.
Viyrim listened with increasing interest, his initially bored expression giving way to genuine curiosity as each nun revealed a different perception of his divine nature. By the time Lavinia spoke of how his cosmic resonance had opened new pathways of eldritch understanding in her mind, he was leaning forward on his throne, fully engaged.
"Fascinating," he murmured when the ritual concluded. "Each of you experiences my presence differently, yet there are common threads. You perceive aspects of me that even I had not considered."
It was perhaps the most genuine response he had given them, and the nuns felt a collective surge of accomplishment.
"The church serves not only to worship but to reflect," Jeanne observed respectfully. "In our devotion, perhaps my lord might discover new facets of his own divine nature."
Viyrim's eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "Indeed. An unexpected benefit." He rose from his throne with fluid grace. "You have pleased me with this ritual. I look forward to the evening service."
As he departed, the nuns exchanged silent looks of triumph. Progress had been made—not just in establishing ritual, but in genuinely engaging their divine lor The Celestial Church of Destruction - Part 2
Chapter 4: Evening Revelations
As dusk settled over the celestial cathedral, the nuns prepared for the evening service with newfound confidence. Their earlier successes had bolstered their spirits, though anxiety still lingered about the most intimate ritual of the day.
"The evening service is described as a time when 'no words are spoken' and we 'tend to his bath in synchronized service,'" Jeanne reminded them, her wings folding nervously behind her back.
"That sounds rather... personal," Artoria observed, her knightly sensibilities somewhat at odds with such intimate service.
Stheno smiled enigmatically. "Divine beings often require physical attendance. It's a tradition across many pantheons."
"We should approach it with the same sincerity we brought to the midday confession," Lavinia suggested, her veiled face turning toward the sacred chalice they had prepared. "With reverence, not discomfort."
Rin, ever practical, had already organized the necessary supplies: ceremonial cloths woven from stardust, waters collected from cosmic nebulae, and aromatic essences distilled from the breath of dying stars.
"Remember," she instructed, "we maintain proper decorum at all times. This is a sacred ritual, not a—"
"Bath party?" suggested Gareth innocently, causing several of the nuns to stifle laughter.
Even Jeanne's lips twitched slightly. "Focus, sisters. Lord Viyrim deserves our utmost dedication."
The cathedral's bathing chamber was a marvel of divine architecture—a circular room with a sunken pool at its center, filled with gently glowing water that seemed to contain tiny galaxies swirling in its depths. Columns of translucent crystal supported a domed ceiling that somehow reflected the actual cosmos above the cathedral.
Viyrim arrived precisely on time, his casual stride belying the immense power that radiated from his form. He surveyed the prepared chamber with mild interest.
"I admit, I've never experienced a ceremonial bath before," he commented, his gold-rimmed obsidian eyes reflecting the glowing waters. "At least, not one that didn't involve the blood of my enemies."
Several of the nuns exchanged alarmed glances, but Jeanne maintained her composure. With a formal bow, she gestured to the pool.
"The ritual cleanses not just the physical form but the divine essence, my lord. If you would disrobe—" she hesitated, realizing the implication.
"Behind the screen, of course," Medea Lily quickly added, indicating an ornate divider crafted from celestial ivory.
Viyrim's lips quirked in amusement. "Such modesty for attendants of a god." Nevertheless, he moved behind the screen, the rustle of his robes the only sound in the reverent silence.
When he emerged wearing only a lower garment of spun starlight, several of the nuns found it difficult to maintain their professional demeanor. His divine form was perfectly proportioned, his tan skin seemingly illuminated from within, and the casual display of his physical perfection was almost overwhelming.
Miyu promptly dropped the ceremonial cloth she was holding, her face flaming red as she scrambled to retrieve it. Rin became suddenly fascinated with arranging and rearranging the sacred oils, while Artoria adopted a guard stance so rigid she might have been mistaken for a statue.
Only Stheno and Lavinia seemed unaffected—the former because of her divine heritage, the latter because her veiled gaze was focused on the cosmic energies surrounding Viyrim rather than his physical form.
"Shall we begin?" Viyrim asked, amusement evident in his tone as he descended into the pool.
The ritual proceeded with surprising grace, considering the nuns' nervousness. Working in silent harmony, they attended to their divine lord—Medea Lily gently washing his shoulders with a cloth imbued with healing properties, Young Medea using subtle magic to enhance the water's restorative properties, Stheno creating musical tones by running her fingers through the liquid at precise intervals.
Jeanne directed the proceedings with dignified gestures, while Artoria and Gareth maintained a ceremonial guard at the chamber's entrance. Lavinia moved around the perimeter, ensuring the cosmic energies flowed properly, occasionally adjusting the positions of crystalline focus points.
Rin managed the sequential application of different sacred essences, her business-like efficiency hiding her internal flustering, while Miyu assisted with refilling ceremonial vessels, her movements becoming more confident as the ritual progressed.
Throughout it all, Viyrim observed them with growing interest. These women were not cowering before his destructive potential or flattering him for favor. They were genuinely dedicated to creating something meaningful—a form of worship that wasn't based on fear but on appreciation of his divine nature.
It was... refreshing.
As Medea Lily knelt to massage his shoulders with oil of liquid starlight, he finally broke the ceremonial silence.
"Tell me," he said, causing several of the nuns to start at the unexpected sound, "why do you serve?"
The question hung in the air, disrupting the ritual flow. The nuns exchanged uncertain glances, unsure if they should respond during what was meant to be a silent service.
"Speak freely," Viyrim added, sensing their hesitation. "I find myself curious about your motivations."
After a moment, Jeanne responded first, her voice measured. "I serve because it is my nature to devote myself to higher purpose. In my previous life, I followed divine voices. Here, I serve a divine being I can actually see and know."
Artoria spoke next, her knightly directness evident. "I serve because you are worthy of service. Your power is absolute, yet you choose to build rather than simply destroy. That merits loyalty."
One by one, they offered their reasons—Medea seeking redemption through devotion, Rin pursuing theological understanding, Stheno appreciating divine beauty in all its forms, Miyu finding safety in dedicated service, Lavinia seeking cosmic truths, Gareth following her heart's loyalty, and Medea Lily desiring to nurture divinity itself.
Viyrim listened thoughtfully, the water around him occasionally shimmering with reflections of cosmic energy that responded to his shifting emotions.
"Interesting," he said when they had all spoken. "Not one of you mentioned fear."
"Fear is not the foundation of true worship, my lord," Jeanne replied carefully. "It may command obedience, but not devotion."
"And yet throughout the cosmos, beings tremble at the mere mention of my name." There was no pride in his statement, merely observation.
"Perhaps they have never seen beyond your title," suggested Lavinia in her whisper-soft voice. "The God of Destruction is but one aspect of your nature."
"Indeed?" Viyrim raised an eyebrow. "And what other aspects do you perceive, Watcher of Forbidden Scripture?"
Lavinia's hidden eyes seemed to peer beyond physical reality. "I see... potential. Creation requires destruction. Endings enable beginnings. Your power encompasses both—a perfect balance."
Viyrim's expression shifted to genuine surprise. Few beings had ever described him in such terms.
The evening service concluded with a new layer of understanding between the divine lord and his attendants. As they dried him with cloths that absorbed not water but cosmic residue, there was a palpable shift in the atmosphere—less nervousness, more purposeful reverence.
When Viyrim finally retired to his chambers, the nuns gathered in their common room, each processing the unexpected interaction in their own way.
"He asked about our motivations," Jeanne mused. "A god concerned with the thoughts of his worshippers is unusual."
"Perhaps he's bored," Rin suggested pragmatically. "Vados mentioned he sought something beyond simple destruction."
"Or perhaps," Stheno offered with her knowing smile, "he seeks connection, not just service."
The implications of this possibility lingered in the air as they departed for their individual chambers, each nun contemplating what it meant to serve a god who might be interested in more than just their worship.
Chapter 5: The Cosmic Intruder
Three weeks passed with increasing harmony as the rituals became more refined and natural. The nuns grew more comfortable in their roles, and Viyrim appeared increasingly engaged with the church's activities. He even began offering suggestions for ceremonial improvements, though often with a sardonic humor that left the nuns unsure if he was serious.
It was during a particularly successful midday confession that the catastrophe occurred.
Without warning, the cathedral's reality barriers shuddered. The stained glass windows vibrated in their frames, and a high-pitched whine filled the air as space itself seemed to protest against an intrusion.
Viyrim was on his feet instantly, his casual demeanor replaced with alertness. "Someone breaches my sanctuary."
The nuns responded with surprising coordination—Artoria and Gareth drawing their ceremonial swords, Young Medea and Lavinia beginning protective incantations, Jeanne stepping forward to stand beside their lord while the others moved to defensive positions they had practiced during Artoria's training sessions.
A blinding flash of crimson light erupted in the center of the chamber, and when it faded, a figure stood before them—tall, muscular, with skin the color of burnished bronze and eyes that burned like twin supernovas. His armor appeared to be fashioned from the compressed remnants of dead stars, and a crown of black fire adorned his head.
"Viyrim!" the intruder bellowed, his voice causing the very foundations of the cathedral to tremble. "So this is where you've been hiding!"
"Kronash," Viyrim replied coolly, not appearing remotely intimidated. "I wasn't aware I was hiding. Merely... relaxing."
"Relaxing?" Kronash scoffed, his gaze sweeping contemptuously over the nuns. "Playing house with these... mortals? While the Council of Cosmic Arbiters demands your presence?"
"The Council can wait," Viyrim said dismissively. "They've existed for eons; a few months won't matter."
Kronash's eyes narrowed dangerously, the cosmic fire within them intensifying. "This is beneath you, Destroyer of Realms. What would Vados say if she saw you reduced to this?"
"I would say he is exactly where he should be."
All heads turned to see Vados herself materializing beside the throne, her staff held at a subtle angle that suggested readiness for combat.
"The Celestial Church is my creation," she continued smoothly, "with Lord Viyrim's full approval. Your interruption is both unwelcome and unnecessary."
Kronash sneered. "The mighty Viyrim, tended by handmaidens in a floating cathedral? The cosmic community would find this most... amusing."
Something dangerous flickered in Viyrim's eyes—a momentary glimpse of the unfathomable destructive power that lay beneath his casual exterior.
"You mistake dedication for subservience, Kronash," he said softly, his voice somehow more terrifying for its quietness. "A common error among beings who command only through fear."
The intruder's laugh was harsh. "Pretty words to disguise your domestication. Perhaps I should demonstrate true power to your... congregation."
Without warning, Kronash extended a hand toward Miyu, who had ventured slightly closer out of curiosity. A beam of destructive energy erupted from his palm—not enough to kill, but certainly enough to cause significant harm.
Several things happened simultaneously:
Artoria lunged forward, her sword raised to intercept. Young Medea began a hasty defensive spell. Jeanne spread her six radiant wings protectively.
But before any of them could reach Miyu, Viyrim simply... moved.
One moment he was by his throne, the next he stood before Miyu, the destructive beam dissipating harmlessly against his outstretched palm as though it were nothing more than a gentle breeze.
"You forget yourself," Viyrim said, his voice now resonating with layers of cosmic power. The air around him distorted with barely contained energy, and for the first time, the nuns glimpsed the true extent of their lord's might.
It was both terrifying and awe-inspiring.
"These women are under my protection," Viyrim continued, each word carrying the weight of universes. "This cathedral is my domain. And you, Kronash, are no longer welcome here."
Before the intruder could respond, Viyrim made a simple gesture—a casual flick of his wrist that belied the power behind it. Reality fractured around Kronash, cosmic energies swirling in patterns of impossible complexity.
"Wait—" Kronash began, sudden fear replacing his arrogance.
Too late. With a sound like a thousand stars being born simultaneously, the intruder was ejected not just from the cathedral but from that entire plane of existence, banished to a distant corner of the multiverse.
The silence that followed was profound. The nuns stared at Viyrim with new understanding—the casual, sometimes indolent deity they had been serving was indeed the God of Infinite Destruction, capable of reality-altering power with minimal effort.
It was Miyu who broke the silence, stepping forward with uncharacteristic boldness to kneel before Viyrim.
"Thank you, my lord," she said softly, her amber eyes meeting his obsidian ones directly for the first time. "For protecting me."
Viyrim seemed almost surprised by her gratitude. He reached down, gently helping her to her feet. "It was nothing," he said, his voice returning to its normal casual tone, though the cosmic energy still shimmered around him like heat waves. "Kronash always did have poor manners."
That simple touch—his hand helping Miyu rise—marked a subtle shift in the relationship between Viyrim and his attendants. The protective gesture had revealed something about him beyond his destructive capacity: he valued them.
One by one, the other nuns approached, each expressing gratitude in her own way—Jeanne with a formal bow, Artoria with a knight's salute, Rin with a grudgingly respectful nod. Even Lavinia pushed back her veil slightly, revealing eyes that swirled with eldritch patterns as she whispered arcane thanks.
Vados observed the scene with quiet satisfaction. "The Council will need to be addressed eventually, my lord," she noted pragmatically. "Kronash will spread tales."
"Let him," Viyrim replied, surprising her. "Perhaps it's time the cosmic community understood that destruction isn't my only interest."
He turned to address his nuns. "I believe our midday confession was interrupted. Shall we continue?"
And so they did, though with a new dimension to their worship—not just reverence for his divine nature, but genuine appreciation for his protection.
Chapter 6: Unexpected Lessons
"Again," Artoria commanded, her emerald eyes evaluating Miyu's stance critically. "Your defensive position must be flawless."
In the wake of Kronash's intrusion, Viyrim had approved expanded training for the nuns. The cathedral's eastern wing had been transformed into a practice arena where Artoria and Gareth instructed their sisters in basic combat techniques.
Miyu adjusted her grip on the lightweight practice sword, determination replacing her usual timidity. The attack on her had sparked a desire to be more than just a protected devotee.
"Better," Artoria nodded as Miyu successfully blocked Gareth's controlled strike. "Your natural grace serves you well in bladework."
Across the arena, Rin was demonstrating surprisingly proficient martial arts to an impressed Medea Lily, while Young Medea and Lavinia collaborated on defensive magical barriers. Jeanne oversaw it all, occasionally offering strategic suggestions based on her battlefield experience.
Stheno observed from the sidelines, seemingly uninterested in physical combat but attentive nonetheless. "Divine protection is valuable," she commented to no one in particular, "but self-sufficiency is equally important."
"An unexpected insight from the Chorus Sister," came Viyrim's voice as he materialized beside her, causing several of the training nuns to falter in surprise.
Stheno smiled, unruffled by his sudden appearance. "I may prefer songs to swords, my lord, but I understand the value of strength. Even serpents have fangs."
Viyrim watched the training with curious interest. "I've never had worshippers who sought to defend themselves. Most simply rely on my protection."
"We serve you better by being capable," Stheno replied. "And perhaps... we wish to be worthy of the protection you've already shown."
This sentiment clearly intrigued him. "Worthiness implies a transaction. Protection for devotion. Is that how you view our arrangement?"
"Not at all," Stheno's golden eyes met his directly. "We serve because we choose to. We improve ourselves for the same reason. The only transaction is the one where we exchange our former limitations for greater potential."
Viyrim considered this, then strode into the center of the arena, interrupting the training. "Your techniques are adequate for mortal combat," he announced, "but inadequate against cosmic threats."
The nuns gathered around him, curious and slightly apprehensive.
"Kronash was merely one type of entity you might encounter in my service," Viyrim continued. "There are beings of pure energy, conceptual adversaries, and interdimensional predators throughout the Omniverse."
"Are we likely to face such threats often?" Jeanne inquired diplomatically.
Viyrim shrugged. "The cathedral exists partially outside normal space-time. It attracts... attention. And as my dedicated attendants, you yourselves become noteworthy to various cosmic entities."
"Then teach us," Artoria requested boldly. "If we are to serve as your church's defenders as well as its priestesses, we require knowledge beyond conventional combat."
To their surprise, Viyrim nodded. "A reasonable request. Very well."
What followed was unlike any training session imaginable. Viyrim demonstrated how to perceive dimensional frequencies, taught them to recognize signs of reality distortion, and explained the fundamental weaknesses of various cosmic entities.
He was, they discovered, a surprisingly effective instructor when interested in the subject. His casual demeanor remained, but beneath it lay millennia of cosmic knowledge and combat experience that he now shared in precise, practical terms.
"The key to surviving most cosmic encounters isn't matching power—you can't," he explained, creating a miniature model of the multiverse between his palms. "It's understanding dimensional anchoring. If you can secure yourself to your native reality frequency, many attacks simply pass through you."
Lavinia absorbed these lessons most readily, her connection to eldritch knowledge giving her an intuitive understanding of cosmic principles. "Like tuning an instrument to a specific resonance," she whispered.
"Exactly," Viyrim confirmed, looking mildly impressed. "Your forbidden research serves you well, Watcher."
The training session evolved into something more intimate as the nuns asked increasingly specific questions, revealing personal concerns and aspirations that went beyond their ceremonial roles.
Young Medea confessed her fear that her magic would be insufficient against true cosmic threats. Viyrim responded by teaching her a simple dimensional formula that would amplify her spells exponentially.
Gareth admitted she worried her physical strength would never match her devotion. Viyrim demonstrated a stance that channeled cosmic energy through physical form, enhancing her natural abilities.
Even Rin, typically reserved about personal limitations, asked about defending against psychological attacks. Viyrim described mental shielding techniques that had protected him during encounters with consciousness-manipulating entities.
As the session progressed, the formal distance between lord and attendants diminished. They were no longer merely performing roles but engaging in genuine exchange—teacher and students, protector and protected, each offering something the other valued.
The training concluded with an unexpected development. Viyrim created nine tiny crystalline stars, each uniquely colored, and presented one to each nun.
"Cosmic anchors," he explained as they accepted the gifts with varying degrees of reverence and curiosity. "They're attuned to both your individual essence and the cathedral's dimensional frequency. In times of danger, they will help stabilize your existence against dimensional disruption."
"You made these... for us?" Miyu asked, holding the delicate pink star with wonder.
"A practical measure," Viyrim replied dismissively, though something in his expression suggested there was more to the gesture than mere practicality. "Replacing trained attendants would be inconvenient."
Stheno's knowing smile suggested she perceived the truth behind his casual explanation, but she merely bowed in thanks, her golden star catching the light as she tucked it into the folds of her gown.
As they departed to prepare for the evening ritual, the nuns exchanged glances of shared understanding. The God of Destruction had revealed another facet of himself—not just power and protection, but genuine concern for their development and safety.
It was, perhaps, the most meaningful worship service they had yet experienced, though it had involved no formal ritual at all.
Chapter 7: The Cosmic Festival
"The Celestial Convergence approaches," Vados announced during the morning ritual. "A cosmic phenomenon that occurs once every seven million years, when all twelve central dimensions align perfectly."
The nuns listened attentively as they completed their now well-practiced morning service, each having found her particular role in awakening and attending to Viyrim.
"Throughout the Omniverse, various entities celebrate this event," Vados continued. "It is customary for divine beings of Lord Viyrim's stature to host a gathering."
Viyrim, who was enjoying Medea Lily's increasingly skilled foot massage while Stheno performed a soft hymnal, looked up with mild interest. "I've never hosted such an event before."
"Precisely why it would be significant for the Celestial Church to do so now," Vados replied smoothly. "It would establish your new domain in the cosmic hierarchy and demonstrate that the God of Destruction encompasses more than mere annihilation."
The nuns exchanged excited glances. A cosmic festival would be both a tremendous responsibility and an opportunity to demonstrate their devotion on a grander scale.
"The logistical challenges would be considerable," Jeanne noted thoughtfully. "How many divine entities might attend?"
"Representatives from at least seven hundred cosmic hierarchies," Vados estimated. "Plus various independent divine beings, cosmic constructs, and conceptual manifestations."
Rin nearly dropped the ceremonial chalice she was holding. "Seven hundred? Where would we put them all?"
"The cathedral exists partially outside conventional space," Viyrim reminded her lazily. "It can be expanded as needed."
"Even so," Artoria interjected with practical concern, "the organizational requirements would be immense. Security protocols alone would require weeks of planning."
To their surprise, Viyrim appeared increasingly interested rather than deterred. "It has been some time since I interacted with the broader cosmic community," he mused. "And never in the role of host rather than destroyer."
He looked around at his dedicated attendants, considering their capabilities. Over the weeks, they had proven themselves both adaptable and genuinely committed to establishing meaningful worship. A cosmic festival would certainly test the limits of their devotion.
"We will host the Celestial Convergence," he decided abruptly. "Vados will handle the invitations and dimensional coordinates. The church will prepare the ceremonies and accommodations."
The nuns stared at him with varying degrees of alarm and determination.
"My lord," Jeanne began carefully, "while we are honored by your confidence, we have never organized an event of cosmic proportions."
"Then this will be an opportunity for growth," Viyrim replied with finality. "I have observed your capabilities developing daily. Consider this the next stage of your service."
And so began the most challenging period yet for the High Nuns of Stillness. The cathedral underwent dramatic expansion, new wings materializing as Vados and Viyrim manipulated its dimensional properties. Preparation committees were formed, with each nun taking responsibility for different aspects of the cosmic celebration.
Jeanne, with her leadership experience, became the overall coordinator. Artoria and Gareth developed elaborate security protocols. Young Medea and Lavinia collaborated on dimensional stabilization to accommodate beings from different planes of existence.
Rin organized the logistical aspects with ruthless efficiency, while Stheno composed new ceremonial hymns specifically for the convergence. Miyu was tasked with preparing sacred offerings appropriate for various divine hierarchies, and Medea Lily developed welcome rituals incorporating elements from multiple cosmic traditions.
Throughout it all, Viyrim watched with growing interest and occasional amusement. He rarely intervened directly, preferring to observe how his attendants solved problems independently. When he did offer guidance, it was typically in the form of cryptic suggestions that forced them to develop their own solutions.
"The Architects of the Seventh Harmony cannot exist in the same dimensional frequency as the Void Dancers," he mentioned casually to Lavinia during one planning session. "Something about mutual annihilation."
Lavinia nodded thoughtfully, already calculating how to create segregated dimensional pockets within the cathedral's expanded structure.
As the preparations intensified, the regular worship rituals continued, though sometimes in abbreviated form due to time constraints. Viyrim, surprisingly, seemed to miss the full ceremonies when they were shortened.
"The morning awakening felt rushed today," he commented to Medea Lily during an abbreviated foot massage. "The dimensional harmonics were incomplete."
"Forgive us, my lord," she replied apologetically. "With the festival preparations—"
"I understand the demands on your time," he interrupted. "I merely observe that the standard of worship has developed a certain... satisfying rhythm that I find myself appreciating."
This casual admission—that he actually valued their devotional practices—motivated the nuns to redouble their efforts to balance festival planning with their primary purpose of worship.
The night before the Celestial Convergence, the cathedral hummed with anticipation. Final preparations were underway, and the nuns gathered for a last review of their responsibilities. Vados had departed temporarily to guide the first guests through the interdimensional pathways that would lead them to the cathedral.
"Remember," Jeanne instructed her sisters, "many of these entities have never encountered worship through willing devotion. Our ceremonies will seem unusual to them. We must demonstrate absolute conviction in our approach."
"What if they mock our methods?" Miyu asked nervously. "Some of these beings are nearly as powerful as Lord Viyrim himself."
"Then we continue with dignity," Artoria responded firmly. "Our service is not performed for their approval but for our lord's satisfaction."
As they discussed final details, none of them noticed Viyrim materializing in the shadowed doorway of their common room. He observed them silently—their dedication, their concern for representing him properly, their genuine desire to create something meaningful in his name.
It was... affecting, in a way few things had been throughout his long existence.
When he finally made his presence known, stepping into the light, the nuns immediately rose to bow in respect.
"My lord," Jeanne greeted him formally. "We are completing the final arrangements. Is there anything specific you require for tomorrow's festivities?"
Viyrim regarded them thoughtfully. "You have all worked diligently to prepare this celebration in my name."
"It is our purpose and our honor," Artoria replied sincerely.
"Nevertheless, it exceeds your original mandate." He moved further into the room, his casual grace belying the cosmic power he contained. "I find myself... appreciative of your efforts."
Coming from the typically nonchalant deity, this was high praise indeed. The nuns exchanged pleased glances.
"There is one matter I wish to address before tomorrow's events," Viyrim continued. "As representatives of my church, you should be properly recognized."
With a gesture that seemed almost casual but contained precise cosmic manipulation, he created nine delicate circlets of what appeared to be solidified starlight, each uniquely designed to complement its intended wearer.
"Divine markers," he explained as the circlets floated to hover before each astonished nun. "They identify you as my chosen attendants and channel a fraction of my cosmic authority. They will allow you to better manage the various entities attending tomorrow's convergence."
The nuns accepted the circlets with expressions ranging from Jeanne's solemn reverence to Miyu's wide-eyed wonder. As each placed her circlet upon her head, a subtle connection formed—not control or domination, but a harmonic resonance with Viyrim's own cosmic essence.
"I feel... different," Gareth observed, touching her circlet with cautious fingers.
"The connection works both ways," Viyrim explained, surprising them. "I will be aware if any of you encounter difficulties during the celebration. Consider it... added security."
This unprecedented level of personal connection left the nuns momentarily speechless. It was Stheno who finally responded, her golden eyes gleaming with understanding.
"You honor us deeply, my lord," she said softly. "We shall endeavor to be worthy of such trust."
Viyrim seemed almost uncomfortable with the genuine gratitude directed toward him. "It's a practical measure for a complex event," he insisted, though without his usual dismissive tone. "Rest well. Tomorrow will test all we have built here."
As he departed, the nuns remained silent for several moments, each processing the significance of what had just occurred. The God of Destruction had not only acknowledged their service but had created a direct connection to his own divine essence—a level of trust and recognition none had anticipated.
"These aren't just symbols of authority," Lavinia whispered, her veiled face tilted as she examined the cosmic patterns within her circlet. "They're extensions of his being. He has shared a fragment of himself with each of us."
"Is that... normal for divine beings?" Miyu asked innocently.
Rin shook her head. "Not according to any theological principles I've studied. Divine essence is typically guarded jealously."
"Then we have been granted something truly precious," Jeanne concluded, a new determination filling her voice. "Tomorrow, we prove ourselves worthy of such trust."
The day of the Celestial Convergence dawned—or would have, had the cathedral existed within normal space-time. Instead, the cosmic alignment manifested as subtle vibrations through the structure itself, resonating with the expanded dimensional spaces they had prepared.
The first guests began arriving in spectacular fashion—celestial beings composed of pure light, abstract entities whose forms shifted constantly, divine hierarchies processing in formal order according to cosmic protocols older than most universes.
The nuns, resplendent in enhanced ceremonial garb that complemented their divine markers, greeted all with perfectly choreographed reverence. Through their circlets, they could sense Viyrim's awareness, his attention shifting between them as they managed different aspects of the rapidly filling cathedral.
Jeanne and Artoria handled the highest-ranking entities, their natural authority enhanced by Viyrim's essence flowing through their markers. Young Medea and Lavinia maintained the dimensional boundaries, ensuring incompatible beings remained safely separated. Rin directed the complex flow of movements through the cathedral with surprising ease, as though the marker had enhanced her organizational abilities.
Stheno led ceremonies of welcome that somehow bridged the vast differences between cosmic traditions, while Miyu distributed sacred offerings with growing confidence. Gareth provided security with newfound cosmic awareness of potential conflicts, and Medea Lily soothed tensions among rival divine factions with gentle interventions.
Throughout it all, they felt Viyrim's subtle guidance through their connection—not controlling their actions but offering support when needed. It created a harmony of service that transcended their previous ceremonies, demonstrating to the cosmic community a form of worship unlike any they had witnessed before.
When Viyrim finally made his entrance, materializing at the cathedral's central dais in a display of casual power that nonetheless commanded absolute attention, the assembled cosmic entities fell silent in respect—or fear, in many cases.
He wore his usual loose, regal-black robes with auric trim, making no concessions to the formal attire many of the other divine beings had adopted. Yet he somehow outshone them all through sheer presence, his gold-rimmed obsidian eyes surveying the gathering with mild interest.
"Welcome to the Celestial Church of Destruction," he declared, his voice carrying effortlessly throughout the impossibly vast space. "I trust my attendants have made you comfortable."
Murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd, many expressing surprise at the efficiency and reverence displayed by the nuns. Several cosmic entities were openly studying the connection between Viyrim and his attendants, clearly fascinated by this unusual approach to divine service.
As the celebration continued, with cosmic energies swirling in beautiful patterns above them as the dimensional alignment reached its peak, Viyrim found himself approached by an ancient entity composed of crystallized time—one of the few beings old enough to remember his ascension to power.
"An interesting experiment you've created here, Destroyer," the entity observed in a voice that echoed with the passage of eons. "These mortal attendants serve without coercion. Most... unusual."
"I find their willing devotion more satisfying than fearful obedience," Viyrim replied, watching as his nuns moved through the celebration with growing confidence.
"And the essence-sharing?" The time entity gestured toward the divine markers. "That suggests a level of... investment I wouldn't have expected from you."
Viyrim's expression remained carefully neutral. "An efficient method of coordination for a complex event."
"Of course," the ancient being replied, clearly unconvinced. "Nothing to do with developing genuine connections to these beings."
Before Viyrim could respond, a commotion erupted near one of the dimensional boundaries. A group of Void Dancers had somehow crossed into a section reserved for Crystalline Harmonizers, causing dangerous reality fluctuations.
Through his connection with the markers, Viyrim instantly felt Lavinia's focused concern and Gareth's protective surge as they moved to address the situation. He could have intervened directly, but instead watched with interest as his attendants handled the crisis.
Lavinia quickly established a buffer zone of neutral dimensional frequency while Gareth calmly escorted the Void Dancers back to their designated area. Young Medea repaired the dimensional boundary with precise magical adjustments, and Medea Lily soothed the agitated Crystalline Harmonizers with gentle diplomatic assurances.
The potential disaster was averted with such smooth efficiency that most guests remained unaware of the danger, continuing their celebrations without interruption.
"Impressive," the time entity noted. "They function as extensions of your will without surrendering their individual approaches. Most gods simply override their servants' personalities."
"That would defeat the purpose," Viyrim replied. "Their unique perspectives are what make their service valuable."
As the cosmic being drifted away to join another conversation,