"Oh~? Well if it isn't Tyrithe! Come in, come in~"
The Goddess of Order let out a soft hum as the Goddess of Judgment appeared before her Temple. Arms crossed behind her head as she sat on a chair that seemed to grow out of the stone floor, Esra smiled slightly, tilting her head to the side in an almost childish fashion. And as she gave this expression, an unsaid question floated throughout the temple air.
What is "wrong"?
If you ask a human this question, you will get a variety of answers. Wrong is incorrect, wrong is impossible, wrong is disgusting or disturbing or foolish.
At its core, wrong is wrong. It is one of the few concepts that is perfectly essentialist. Wrong is wrong. Right is not wrong because wrong is not right.
And so, as a soft laugh emanated from the existence called "Esra" a feeling that could not be expressed in words flowed outwards with her at the center. A sense beyond sight spoke to nothing, informing it of a truth both "of" the world and "beyond" the world.
This girl, this god, this thing is wrong.
There are many different senses of fear.
The fear of a stronger human.
Of something which is perfectly understood, but which cannot be killed by your ability. You understand man, you understand what would have been needed to accomplish to defeat it, and you understand that you lack that much. This is the weakest fear. Predictable, simple, trite. A meaningless illusion that can hardly be called fear.
The fear of a hurricane or an earthquake.
Of a process beyond your "control". Something which you understand, but which you cannot know in totality and infinity. It has no mind, it is merely a process, a result of predetermined actions and ends, and yet you know that it is greater than yourself. A process, there is always a process, and yet this fear barely stands above the fear of another human.
The fear of a monster.
Of something that you are not, that you do not understand and yet you know you will die. If God is all-knowing and all-powerful, the demon is a being of human knowledge and powerlessness. It is the reachable but utterly incomprehensible abyss. It is an end.
The fear of a god.
Of abject inferiority, of acknowledgement that you are nothing. A cosmic speck in the hand of the Bodhisattva. That which creates, that which destroys, that which acts in a transcendent form with the scream of "naught" roaring in their mind, barely able to pay you attention as you are done away with.
This was none of those.
This was all of those.
Seven points cut through this "world".
Set.
-Initiate.
You are. Thus, the starting penalty is three.
Death by madness. Death by happiness. Death by love.
You created something. Thus, the intermediate penalty is five.
Death by electrocution. Death by suffocation. Death by burning. Death by stabbing. Death by dehydration.
-But what if what you created was beyond your nature?
What if this thing you stand opposite is something you can never hope to know?
Then, the true penalty is one.
The final penalty is a hapless suicide which you yourself will perform in the evanescent dance to the end of eternity.
Plot, scheme, prepare, do magic, destroy, create, cry, ask why, cut your own throat, smash yourself into the ground—none of it will do you any good.
Not the fear of man or process or god or devil. It is all useless because this is the most primal fear.
This is the fear of wrong.
"It's great to have a visitor! Nobody's stopped by in way too long, and talking to Kun through the Moon is waaaay too boring 'cause she almost never bothers to reply back. Too wrapped up in business that doesn't exist, you know?" Esra said in a continuous stream of dialogue, punctuating it with a slight giggle as she waved a hand in the air.
Space bent as an immaterial form became existent in the space between the two goddesses, a black box that writhed itself into a new form.
"Well, what can I do you for? Cup of tea? Apple biologically identical to one of Kaba's? The sword fated to kill the Demon Lord?"
As she spoke, the immaterial form split into three different "pieces", each becoming one of the three things she mentioned, before all three were waved back into nonexistence by Esra, the system that their existence was based on written out of reality.
"War's coming, you know."
Without a change in her demeanor or even waiting for her fellow Goddess to take a seat, Esra dropped a proverbial bomb.
"Just about every possible timeline's got a God War breaking out pretty soon, so you might wanna make sure you're ready in case one of the juveniles come knocking at your door. If someone I find annoying enough decides to attack you, I might send you intel or wipe out their existence from the first premise or something, providing it's not too much effort on my part. Us enemies of Chaos have gotta help each other out, right~?"
There was no doubt that she was ill-fitting for the title "Goddess of Order".
"But anyway, enough of that. The six-sided die is firmly in my vision, so you don't have to worry about your place getting surprise attacked while you're away; if anyone launches an attack I'll be able to see that much and I'll let you know. That's the imperative of Order after all. So, in the meantime, don't let that war business bother you~! Have a seat and just tell dear old Esra what brings you to the most efficient territory this side of the 'is-ness'!"