MIGHT AS WELL BE OP Chapter 878 - Capítulo 878: Halo

Deep within the boundless reaches of the Divinora Galaxy lies a sanctuary perpetually shrouded in alabaster mists, referred to as the Haven. This hallowed territory exists as an independent plane, severed from the common laws that govern reality.

Across its borders, a multitude of Angels can be observed slicing through golden firmaments, their luminous bodies tracing streaks of radiance in their wake. The Haven itself is a dominion where only white and gold prevail—two colors deeply entwined with the essence and sovereignty of the Angel race.

The atmosphere of the Haven vibrates with the subtle hum of faith energy, projecting an intense aura of holiness and might. Within this realm, time appears irrelevant, as if the concept of eternity itself serves the whims of those who dwell there. The clouds beneath one's feet offer a solid yet ghostly footing, while the heavens above shine with a persistent glow, untouched by darkness.

A colossal hall stands at the epicenter of this holy plane, a monument forged entirely from divine essence. Its surfaces shimmer with a blend of polished gold and pure white, catching the light in a manner that suggests the structure is sentient. At the heart of this chamber, a massive table remains suspended atop a thick cloud, appearing completely weightless.

Twelve grand seats, each a masterpiece of gold and white craftsmanship, encircle the table. These are more than mere chairs; they are icons of absolute authority, set aside exclusively for the highest-ranking Angels of the Divinora Galaxy.

Presently, an eerie stillness gripped the hall. No sound disturbed the vast interior, as if the universe was holding its breath. The air grew heavy with a sense of looming importance, awaiting the arrival of entities whose very existence could alter the fabric of reality.

Suddenly, bursts of golden faith energy flared throughout the chamber, bathing the area in a blinding light. In less than a millisecond, every one of the twelve seats was occupied. The Angels had manifested without warning, their arrival both instant and absolute.

Each figure displayed twelve magnificent wings, layered and glowing, radiating a suffocating aura of divinity. Their countenances were tranquil and poised, yet they radiated the sheer power of beings who had reached the peak of Cultivation possible under their God.

Silence reigned for several moments. The Angels remained mute, their expressions unreadable and their gazes fixed. A subtle yet undeniable tension filled the room. Eventually, the heavy quiet was broken by the voice of one of the gathered leaders.

“What is the status of the operation?” the Angel inquired with a firm, commanding tone. He was recognized as the First Halo, the pioneer who first ascended to the rank of the Twelve-Winged Angels within the Divinora Galaxy.

In response, the Twelfth Halo let out a soft breath, a faint sigh escaping her. “Based on the fragments of faith recovered from our dispatched forces,” she began, her voice steady but burdened, “they have all perished.”

Her announcement struck the room like a divine mallet.

The ensuing silence was bone-chilling, affecting even these exalted beings. No Angel spoke; none moved. A cloud of pure disbelief filled the hall, momentarily freezing reality itself. The news was simply beyond their comprehension.

During their previous gathering in this hall, the Arcanis Galaxy had been the primary subject—specifically, the location and sealing of the Tears in Reality. The Angels had orchestrated a ruthless, final strategy to trigger the last Tear, intending to wipe out any remaining survivors. The Arcanis Galaxy was supposed to be extinguished, its people erased by divine decree.

Now, however, instead of a report of triumph, they were met with a devastating reality.

They were the ones being slaughtered.

The Second Halo finally shattered the silence, his voice sharp despite its melodic quality.

“How can this be, Twelfth Halo?” he questioned. “Was this strategy not placed under your supervision, along with the Third, Sixth, and Ninth Halos?”

His tone was inherently angelic and authoritative, yet a cold, predatory edge lingered beneath the surface.

The Twelfth Halo slowly met his gaze, her golden eyes locking onto his. “Your rank may be that of the Second Halo,” she countered calmly, “but do not take that condescending tone with me.”

“Hoh… and what do you intend to do about it, Twelfth Halo?” the Second Halo challenged, his face remaining a mask of indifference.

Before she could retaliate, another voice intervened to de-escalate the conflict.

“Cease these antics, Second Halo,” the Third Halo stated curtly. “Your distaste for women is no excuse to act like a dick constantly.”

The insult hung heavily in the chamber. The Second Halo remained silent for a beat, eyes narrowed at the Third Halo, before clicking his tongue and averting his gaze, opting not to escalate the feud further.

Of the twelve seated Twelve-Winged Angels, only four were female: the Third, Sixth, Ninth, and Twelfth Halos. While the source of the Second Halo’s prejudice remained a mystery, his abrasive attitude toward them was common knowledge. Regardless, no one cared for his motives; a prick was a prick, no matter the reason.

“Please proceed, Twelfth Halo,” the Third Halo encouraged.

Although the mission had been assigned to the four of them, the Twelfth Halo had taken the lead. She had claimed the responsibility personally, preferring solo execution over collaborative efforts.

After a brief look was exchanged between the Third and Twelfth Halos, the latter spoke again.

“Continuing from where I was interrupted,” she said, “there is clearly a high-level entity involved. We are looking at someone with true reality-warping capabilities—someone strong enough to not only seal the Tears in Reality but to protect an entire galaxy from the cataclysmic detonation of the final Tear.”

Though she hadn't been there to see it, her assessment was perfect. The figure she described was, in fact, Aura Nova.

“So,” the Seventh Halo remarked, tapping his finger rhythmically against his throne, “our grand design failed. We have lost millions of troops, all of whom were planetary-level combatants. We even lost our own kin.”

“Their lives were offered for the Cause,” the Ninth Halo whispered, her voice soft but unwavering. A white veil obscured her features, hiding her intent. “For Him. For our Father. For our God.”

Her words effectively ended any further complaints from the Seventh Halo. To argue would be to commit heresy against their Creator.

Such was the atmosphere of these councils. Some were orderly, while others bordered on chaos. It was the natural result of placing twelve beings of identical status in one room. While their actual combat power differed, their God had strictly forbidden internal fighting, meaning none truly knew the limits of their peers' strength.

“What is our next move?” the Eleventh Halo asked, sounding bored and detached from the internal bickering.

As the Twelfth Halo opened her mouth to reply, the Fifth Halo cut in.

“Before we decide that,” he insisted, “reveal what data was collected during the fall of our brothers. We cannot suffer such a massive blow to our numbers without gaining some intelligence in return.”

The other Angels signaled their consensus. No power in the universe would accept such a humiliating defeat without demanding something to show for the sacrifice.