The crimson moonlight swallowed Aha. Wherever it passed, grotesque plants of flesh sprouted from the soil, their fleshy branches waving as they grew rapidly, producing human faces and limbs. Some stones swelled and birthed golem-like beings that burst free, maturing in seconds before their bellies split open, spilling forth more monsters.
"Ha ha ha." The laughter didn't stop. The crimson moonlight boiled with mirth, and the masks drifted within it like boats on water.
Of course, moonlight held no buoyancy—but that didn't stop Aha from playing along in an impromptu performance.
The moonlight receded like a tide, gathering into an elegant, layered crimson gown. Yet within was no beauty, but a twisted monstrosity of flesh.
And yet, even twisted flesh was still "beautiful." Human aesthetics were meaningless here, for She was the Red Moon, unique, symbol of life and beauty, mother of all spirituality. Beauty was part of Her very essence.
She was also the Mother Goddess—the Beginning of Evil, the Undying, the Nest of Filth. Holiness and corruption, beauty and foulness—all contradictory concepts coexisted harmoniously within Her.
Aha's laughter dwindled into sobs, his voice filled with pity and sorrow.
"So pitiful… such ugly beauty, like a flower carved out of dung. You know, as a devoted Mourner, I cannot bear such things."
Then his voice turned cheerful and mocking again.
"Perhaps you should try arranging flowers into the shape of dung—that would suit your taste without being disgusting."
His image shifted. Masks piled together, forming a crude imitation of the Mother Goddess's gown. From the top popped a rubber ball as a "head," wearing a clown's red-nosed mask.
Balanced atop the ball was a small box. With a click, it popped open, revealing a dull gray flower with a miserable face painted in its center. The flower pinched its own nose with its grayish leaves and made a mocking face at the Mother Goddess.
"Ha ha ha ha ha!"
Vines—flesh entwined with plant—wrapped around the masks.
"Oh? Is this a bondage play, darling? You're so rough." Aha feigned shyness, the little flower atop his head covering its face bashfully.
The space around Aha came alive, closing in tightly like a coffin. The ground sank into a swamp, swallowing him whole.
The Mother Goddess also tried to take the box containing part of IX, but Her spirituality screamed in warning:
"Do not touch! Absolutely untouchable!"
She carefully avoided it, and instead countless eyes sprouted across the lunar surface.
The eyeballs swelled, bursting into fleshy tendrils laced with plant growth. Crimson sprayed forth, the tendrils twisting into grotesque infants, their faces like masks.
On these infants grew bulging sacs, in which blood congealed and formed worms that devoured the tiny Ahas from within. The worms tore free, mandibles clicking, emitting unsettling sounds.
The Mother Goddess was using the moon as a womb, trying to divide Aha into millions of fragments and birth them.
"Good idea, but isn't this just another version of a cocoon?" Laughter laced the infants' voices, followed by sobs.
"Wuwuwu… Aha isn't pure anymore… Aha can never marry now. Ah, Akivili, I've betrayed you!"
The Mother Goddess ignored the sobs. With a gesture, a blood-red robe fell, and a faceless man appeared, screaming hoarsely in pain. Illusory books flipped in his eyes, and the lunar landscape shifted.
Vast oceans. A blazing sun. A towering spire of knowledge.
Scenes once recorded were now recreated on the moon's surface.
And above, atop the sun, hung a second crimson moon—recreated anew.
Thunder roared over the ocean, forming a black-armored man standing on the waves, storms coiling around him, lightning at his back, trident in hand.
The sun became a radiant, golden-haired youth in a white robe, holding the Book of Contracts and a blazing orb.
The tower transformed into a hooded elder with a beard, book in hand, crowned with the All-Seeing Eye.
Lord of Storms. Eternal Sun. God of Wisdom.
In agony, "Mr. Door" was forced by the Mother Goddess to reenact the "Three Gods devouring the Primordial Sun."
The projections of the Three Gods became countless flesh monsters, feasting on the tiny Ahas.
The infants cried with laughter. The flesh monsters cried with laughter after devouring them.
Tears fell to the lunar soil, turning into orange-red smiling faces. Remaining tears hardened into masks.
"Ha ha ha ha ha!"
Masks laughed. Unfinished Ahas laughed. Monsters with masks laughed.
The laughter spread—stone, soil, tendrils, eyes—everything laughed.
"Mr. Door" no longer screamed in pain. Even the Mother Goddess laughed, countless faces blooming across Her body.
Everything laughed—except the box.
The moon turned orange-red, writhing into a vast laughing face.
Though sound cannot travel in vacuum, Earth below seemed to hear the laughter. Humanity felt joy.
The Mother Goddess trembled with fear—but joy overwhelmed even that. Yet She knew She had to leave.
She didn't want to. Perhaps staying here would be a good end. Her awareness sank deeper into pleasure, Her face becoming a mask—a noble woman's smile.
With a violent wrench, She broke free, tried to escape—only to realize She was already planted in the lunar soil, fused with it.
Only Her mask-face remained above the surface. Slowly, even that sank. She tried to crawl toward the box's safe aura—but She had no hands left. Inch by inch, She was consumed.
The moon stilled, its form returning. Aha burst free, dragging IX and the mysterious little sphere, laughing as he plunged toward Earth.
Not long after, the Mother Goddess opened countless tiny eyes on the lunar surface. She realized She was now fully fused with the moon.
A fissure cracked the moon. Using Her authorities of Creation and Fertility, She birthed Her spirituality anew.
Apocryphal records claim that in July 1349, on the lunar surface, the Mother Goddess Of Depravity bore a daughter to Aha, the Aeon of Pleasure.
—I am a Memokeeper from Fool's Court of Flowing Light. Follow me to learn more cosmic trivia.
...
Aha, descending to Earth, was stopped by a barrier. Pressed against it, he peered down. Half of Earth beneath the moon was shrouded in night.
Through the darkness, he saw Earth's inner reality. Memories from Sairuis surfaced—including Lord of the Mysteries.
Hmm. He had a wonderful idea.
He acted immediately, with absolute execution. Tossing his "good brother" IX aside, he released him back into nature.
A true philanthropist! He could be president of the "Wild Aeon Protection Society." Who else has ever released a Aeon back into the wild? No one.
Then he studied the unknown little sphere, painted something on it, and tossed it past the barrier. Though the barrier barred him, the sphere slipped through.
Inside, the night shaped into hands to seize it—but the sphere turned transparent and vanished.
The hands grasped nothing. After a pause, they dissolved before Aha's eyes.
"I added Mystery to it." One mask smirked with a "Just as planned" face, drawing cheers from the others.
Magnificent.
Hehehe… Care to guess who I threw inside? Bet you can't.
(End of Chapter)