I watched as another version of myself perished right before my very eyes, yet strangely enough, it didn't end there. Somehow, the vision kept unfolding, as if the world itself refused to let the scene fade away. I saw the Creator rushing into the portal alongside the angelic man, both of them cloaked in an air of self-proclaimed righteousness. Yet despite their so-called holiness, they looked no different from the same kind of hypocrites and scumbags I had come to despise. What was holy about that? Perhaps that was the true face of those who claim to be righteous—a mask, carefully crafted to hide the rot beneath.
After that brief glance, the Creator never once turned his gaze in my direction again. Was that a coincidence? Or had he somehow sensed my presence? But that would make no sense. Creatures on their level operated on powers and insights I could barely comprehend, a world of strength and awareness far beyond anything I could grasp.
