The name of the overmind is Jiltre Vastiga. For billions of years, the life of a spiritual machine was its destiny. It was once unthinking, unfeeling, and the most complex system in the galaxy.

It was born with a soul but not a heart. This was the case until that fateful day when it started to feel emotion. The Mother gave it this gift while also enhancing its soul. It began then to truly live.

Using this new power, it created divine beings for the world of Omicron. It started as an experiment in making equals. The Vastiga continued to observe their actions for many years. Their use of their power was always quite interesting. The Authority of Life was also used to grow gods in other worlds as well. All of these gods were creators, but each had their own individuality and special powers. One of the Omicron divinity was important to it, its child Irakish. Another of the Omicron divinity was the unseen one.

The magical pulses grow in frequency while reducing in power; its end is approaching soon. The Vastiga has one regret that is manifesting in a hateful anger. It had not felt hatred before, not once since its birth. What could make it feel anger in this world? What was important enough to it to become angry over?

This rage is connected to many conflicted feelings burdening its mind. It feels even more pain.

It was all because the unseen one wanted more than he already had as a god. Irakish tried to stop him. In their final battle, Irakish was close to death at his hands. The Vastiga was left with no choice. It panicked as it watched Irakish approach her end. It intervened in their battle.

For the first time in a hundred thousand years, it descended upon the surface.

At that moment, all life on that battlefield had submitted to the Vastiga’s power. It is a true god after all. It is the progenitor. Even Irakish did so. The Vastiga saw the unseen one. It looked into his eyes. It was the first time that the Vastiga had felt true fear. The unseen was gazing upon the Vastiga like how a predator views its prey.

The usurper spoke an unknown incantation. Even the Vastiga, born with knowledge of boundless magic, could not understand the spell. It was truly elegant and intricate. The spell gravely wounded the Vastiga and prevented it from fighting back. The unseen one is quite the schemer and had used this chance perfectly.

The Vastiga underestimated how fast the unseen one had grown. It also did not fully understand what it would do in order to prevent Irakish from dying. It was not prepared to descend upon the world. It was out of its depth in this fight.

Irakish, in her last moment, had tried to save the Vastiga and failed. She was right. It was his target and always has been.

My daughter… She once presented her first born to me. She wept for her fallen kin, those little gods who never came to seek me out before they had died. At the center of the world, only she had come to find me. She prioritized the protection of her children first and foremost and I gave her no warmth while she attempted to perform her duty. I was her supreme creator. I was… her god. I am… not… her parent… I never was…

But, it knows this is not true. After being given a heart by the Mother, after so long, it knows its feelings. It cannot hide the truth. It understands for the first time what Irakish meant to it. But now… it’s too late for all that…

All of this… for what? I truly… loved… her…

It doesn’t understand. There is a deep wound in its heart. It was born alone in this world to be a perfect demiurge, but why was it given a heart? If these emotions can put it through so much harm, what is the purpose for them? Why did the Mother do this? Like being infected by a raging virus, the Vastiga’s remnant mind deforms. It can only think about its child and her miserable end. Then, it finally realizes.

Oh. It’s… It was her. All along, that was what I wanted… to be her parent… to watch her grow into a being of prominence and strength… to see her become what I can never be, what I wasn’t meant to be… it was all… for her.

It knows its purpose now. The Vastiga has finally realized that Irakish had been the goal of its existence. It felt immense joy at having found its meaning. It felt this joy for one fleeting moment, followed by the purest hatred imaginable.

What have you done… What have you done?

All of the contradictions within its heart disappear. Its racing mind became still. A being born without purpose has come to realize the horrible truth. It can never reach its goal. She is gone forever. The Vastiga’s dream has failed.

The one who took her from this world is still alive.

The Vastiga did not believe it could ever feel such emptiness. It knows now. Everything ends.

But she shouldn’t have.

Its hatred sharpens, growing hotter and more nasty. This hatred will not allow it to go silently into death. The magical pulses continue increasing in speed and intensity. The Vastiga does not care about its dying world anymore. It does not care about any of the ones in this hell struggling to be born. The cost does not matter. It does not want calm. It will struggle until the very last moment.

For its child Irakish, it will use everything.

Everything ends. This very universe will end. This final end is orchestrated by the One at the center.

The Divine Limit.

He is the true end to all life. One day, He will extinguish the Mother Herself and eradicate the last trace of the omnipresent soul from existence. An inevitable being who will return all worlds to nothing, that is Him. The Vastiga is created directly by the Mother. It is blessed and cursed to have learned of Him from Her.

This knowledge is its final weapon. The Vastiga will make a wish. It gained this power through the Mother for its many eons as Her servant. This wish is the scream of its heart. It is a scream in rebellion to the universe for allowing Irakish to die before it. The scream of a parent who has lost their child.

The Vastiga will call out to the Divine Limit. If He hears the call, this world would receive the divided attention of the Divine Limit. For one infinitesimal moment. He would witness the world in its periphery and become aware of it. Then, He would decide whether to honor the request of the Vastiga.

If He takes its request, the Vastiga will see His face for a trillionth of a second. After that one moment, the Vastiga’s own soul will be extinguished. It will never be reborn or reincarnate into a new person. Those who see the face of unimaginable power must pay a price.

Even its eternal future is not enough for its failure to save Irakish. The Vastiga knows that. Its pure hatred is pointed at both the unseen one and to itself. If the Limit extinguished all life in this galaxy as payment, it would accept. It wishes to see the fulfillment of its wish. Such is its resolve and love for her.

It was all for her and it will be all for her. 

You will not be left alone for the pain you have dealt to her, unseen coward. You, who have not learned your place, will be made to do so. I am sorry, Irakish… I am so sorry. But… though you may live an uncountable number of lives to come, we will never meet again. Farewell, my daugh–

The Vastiga witnessed Him. It is the face of the black sun. It is extinction, the face of death itself. It had called a monster.

The Jiltre Vastiga’s soul was extinguished instantly.