"My goal? It's simple—I want to reunite the Abraham family and lead them back to the pinnacle of the Northern and Southern continents!
Dorian, do you really want to keep living like this? Hiding in the shadows, constantly on the run from the Orthodox Church and the Aurora Order? You can't even use your own surname openly! The way you live now is a disgrace to the name Abraham!
Have you forgotten our former glory? Have you forgotten that we once stood at the very top of this world?
Augustus, Castiya, Einhorn, Soren—those families were nothing more than stepping stones beneath our feet!
Don't you want revenge on the students who betrayed our family? Don't you want to personally end the life of that 'brilliant' student of yours?"
With Dorian's question hanging in the air, Ael burst into laughter and stood up, making his intentions clear. He had come here today for one reason only—to gather the strength of the entire Abraham family and turn them into his foundation, his followers, and the anchors of his future.
As his laughter echoed, a sound—one that could pierce straight through the soul—burrowed into Dorian's mind. Veins throbbed on his forehead, his eyes bloodshot, his entire being radiating an unstable brilliance, teetering on the edge of losing control.
After a long pause, Dorian Gray, having barely suppressed the pain in his mind, spoke bitterly:
"If I could, of course, I would proudly live under the name Abraham. But we are too weak. Even if you are an Angel, you cannot possibly stand against both the Aurora Order and the Orthodox Churches.
Unless… you can bring our ancestor back and lift the curse."
"Give up on that idea, Dorian. I will not bring our ancestor back. But I have another way—one that can temporarily free you from your suffering and relieve you of the curse's torment."
"What way?" A glimmer of hope flashed in Dorian's weary eyes, like a drowning man grasping at a lifeline.
Ael, looking solemnly at the middle-aged astrologer before him, stated:
"You and the rest of the family must place your faith in another being—a hidden existence, in addition to our ancestor. You must carry out certain tasks for Him.
Rest assured, this will not harm the interests of the family. On the contrary, it will allow the new generation of Abrahams to gain strength and step onto the path of higher Sequences.
In return, this hidden existence will grant protection over the family's bloodline during the Full Moon and the Blood Moon, shielding you from the curse's effects."
"So that's it… This is His goal? He wants to turn the Abrahams into tools for a hidden existence?"
This was a method Ael had long prepared. Just like Klein's approach, he would use the essence of an ancient entity to forcibly shield the cries for help from the one behind the Door.
As for praying to the "Mother" and hoping She would refrain from corrupting them? That was never an option. From the moment the one behind the Door was banished, he had already been marked as a tool, nothing more.
Hearing Ael's so-called solution, Dorian frowned.
"This is impossible. Even if you really are Ael, I cannot trust you—not when the survival of our entire family is at stake.
And this 'hidden existence' you speak of… may I at least know His name?"
Dorian hesitated for a moment before shaking his head, rejecting Ael's offer outright. He could not entrust the fate of his family to an unknown entity.
"You may call Him 'The Reverse of All Things,' 'The King of Mirrors,' or 'The God of Time and Space.'"
"I have never heard of such a hidden existence…"
Hearing these names, Dorian Gray shook his head hesitantly. They were unfamiliar—completely unheard of.
Ael chuckled. "That's not surprising."
He continued, "You should be quite familiar with the stars, or rather, the Astral World. Whether from the knowledge inherent in your mystical path or the records passed down in our family, you must have come across many references.
This existence raised His divine kingdom into the Astral World in the First Epoch—long before even the birth of the Ancient Gods. Since then, He has refrained from interfering in the material world, leaving no records or titles behind.
Perhaps the Western Continent or the Forsaken Land of the Gods holds some traces of Him, but never the complete truth.
If the apocalypse were not imminent, He would not have begun His plans or sought a representative on Earth. If not for my pact with Him, our family would never have obtained a way to break the curse!
Rest assured, He is not like the True Creator, the Hidden Side of the Universe, or the Primordial Witch. He does not harbor malice toward humanity, nor does He demand bloody, primitive sacrifices."
Looking at the still-hesitant Dorian, Ael sighed and asked:
"Do you really want to continue suffering under the curse?
You are already middle-aged—your body is declining. How many more times can you endure the torment of the Full Moon?
Even if you can, what about Raubero? The mutation of the Red Moon last night strengthened the curse. The pain—was it not worse than ever? Who can say if something even worse will happen next Full Moon?
Will they survive it?
Dorian, think about the rest of our family. Think about the next generation of Abrahams. Think about yourself.
Will you betray your fallen brothers, your father, your wife, your children? Will you personally extinguish the last flicker of hope?
And even if you refuse me, I can always find others among the Abrahams.
With my rank as an Angel and my strength, I am confident that most of the family will agree."
Dorian's thoughts raced. After a long, deep sigh, he averted his gaze, walked to the center of the room, and sat down, shrouded in the dim candlelight.
Finally, he unclenched his fists and closed his eyes, as if making a decision that betrayed generations of ancestors.
"I will try… to place my faith in this hidden existence you speak of.
If He is truly as benevolent toward the Abrahams as you claim, I will summon the other five elders and persuade them to accept your offer.
But first, tell me His true name."
"Of course."
Seeing that Dorian had finally relented, Ael picked up the steel pen on the table and swiftly wrote a passage on a blank sheet of paper:
"The Wanderer of the Stars,
The Mirror Connecting All Time and Space,
The Final Future of All Things."
It was a fabricated name—a standard three-part divine title, embodying only the essence of the "Blank" Pathway and the fragmented Sefirot he currently possessed.
"A unique title… No mention of death, evil, or catastrophe… It doesn't seem to be an evil god…"
Staring at the paper in his hands, Dorian let out a silent sigh of relief. For a moment, he had feared he would see something along the lines of:
"The Lord who created everything, the master behind the shadow curtain, the fallen nature of all living things."