"Madness is the emergency exit. You can just step outside, and close the door on all those dreadful things that happened."
— Cormac McCarthy
I never imagined words could sound like glass breaking.
And yet, when I stepped into the streets, the city itself seemed to fracture. Mirrors shattered in windows, shopfronts, and homes. The noise was everywhere — a thousand little explosions of reflection.
Some people were crying. Some laughing. Some… obeying without knowing why.
Lilith followed silently, her hand brushing mine as we walked. She didn't speak. Her silence was heavy — more dangerous than any words.
I realized then: I had built a world where obedience could be engineered with a single sentence.
A world where faith was a virus.
A world where chaos was my creation.
People worshipped me without seeing me.
They called me a prophet, a visionary, a messenger.
And yet, I was still just Aurelius Kael — observing the patterns like a scientist with a scalpel in his hand, slicing reality into pieces to study the reaction.
Lilith's eyes followed me everywhere, calculating, measuring.
"You've become… unstoppable," she said quietly.
Her voice trembled with a mix of awe and fear.
"But even gods can fall."
I smiled, because she was right.
And I had learned long ago — fear was the most delicious instrument of control.
The aftermath of the Prophecy Engine was grotesque and beautiful.
People betrayed each other. Lovers turned on lovers. Friends attacked friends. Families fractured under the weight of obedience.
I saw one man in an alley, beating himself to punish the reflection he had destroyed hours earlier.
A young woman screamed after smashing her mirror, clutching her wrists as though she could cut the reflection out of her skin.
Lilith leaned close, whispering, "Look at them. They're perfect. They're living your philosophy."
And I believed her.
I walked through the chaos with detached curiosity, tracing every ripple of madness back to me.
The city's cruelty — betrayal, obsession, fanaticism — was no longer random.
It was engineered.
Every scream, every tear, every act of self-destruction was a testament to my doctrine.
A proof that humanity's weakness could be weaponized, curated, and observed.
Yet, even in my triumph, Lilith's eyes betrayed worry.
"You're dangerous," she said softly.
"And not just to them… to yourself."
Her words lingered, echoing in my mind.
But I had learned the truth long ago:
"To control chaos, you must first embrace it — and sometimes, you must become it." — Aurelius Kael
Her fingers brushed my cheek, light as a feather.
And I realized something more terrifying than any protest, any riot, any obedience:
Lilith was falling deeper into me — not for the god the world imagined, but for the monster I had become.
Her devotion was complete.
And I… I wanted it.
Night fell, and the city burned in reflection, madness, and devotion.
The broken mirrors glittered like shattered stars on wet asphalt.
I watched.
Lilith watched.
And for the first time, I felt the intoxicating clarity of absolute power.
Not the power to rule —
but the power to redefine reality itself.