MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

Chapter 878: Halo

Within the vast expanse of the Divinora Galaxy, there existed a place eternally veiled in white clouds, known as the Haven. This sacred domain was a separate plane of existence, detached from the mundane laws of reality.

Within its borders, countless Angels could be seen tearing through the golden skies, their radiant forms leaving trails of light behind them as they moved. The Haven itself was a realm where only two colors reigned supreme, white and gold, both deeply symbolic, both intrinsically tied to the existence and authority of the Angels.

The air of the Haven shimmered faintly with faith energy, carrying with it an overwhelming sense of sanctity and power. Everything within this plane seemed untouched by time, as though eternity itself bowed before the will of its inhabitants. The clouds beneath one’s feet felt firm yet ethereal, while the sky above glowed endlessly, unmarred by darkness or shadow.

At the heart of this sacred plane stood a massive hall, a structure crafted entirely from divine essence. Its walls gleamed with polished gold and pristine white, reflecting the ambient light in a way that made the entire hall seem alive. Within the center of this hall rested an enormous table, suspended upon a dense cloud as though it weighed nothing at all.

Surrounding the table were twelve towering seats, each intricately designed, a perfect fusion of gold and white. These seats were not merely furniture but symbols of authority, reserved only for the highest-ranking Angels within the Divinora Galaxy.

At this moment, the hall was eerily still. Not a single sound echoed through the vast space, as if the world itself was holding its breath. The air was thick with anticipation, as though awaiting the arrival of beings whose presence alone could reshape reality.

Then, within seconds, brilliant flashes of golden faith energy erupted throughout the hall, illuminating the space with blinding radiance. In less than a millisecond, the twelve seats were filled. Angels had arrived without warning, their appearances instantaneous and absolute.

Each of them possessed twelve majestic wings, layered and radiant, exuding an overwhelming aura of divinity. Their expressions were calm, composed, yet unmistakably powerful, as they embodied the pinnacle of existence achievable under their God.

Several seconds passed in silence. None of the Angels spoke, their gazes steady and unreadable. The tension was subtle but unmistakable. Finally, the oppressive quiet was shattered as one of them broke the silence.

“What is the update on the mission?” the Angel spoke, his voice steady and authoritative. He was known as the First Halo, the first Angel in the entire Divinora Galaxy to ascend into the ranks of the Twelve-Winged Angels.

At his words, the Twelfth Halo exhaled softly, a quiet sigh escaping her lips. “According to the sparks of faith retrieved from the Angels we sent out,” she began, her voice controlled yet heavy, “they are all dead.”

Her words fell like a divine hammer.

The silence that followed was suffocating, chilling even beings of such exalted existence. None of the Angels spoke. None moved. Utter disbelief settled over the hall, and for the briefest moment, it was as though reality itself had frozen. They could not believe what they had just heard.

The last time they had convened within this hall, the topic of discussion had been the Arcanis Galaxy. More specifically, the discovery and subsequent closure of the Tears in Reality. The Angels had devised a plan, a decisive, merciless plan, to detonate the final Tear and annihilate any survivors left in its wake. The Arcanis Galaxy was meant to be erased, its inhabitants wiped out in divine judgment.

Yet now, instead of news of victory, they were faced with an unthinkable truth.

They were the ones being wiped out.

The silence shattered once more as the Second Halo finally spoke, his tone sharp despite its divine cadence.

“How is this possible, Twelfth Halo?” he demanded. “Wasn’t this plan entrusted to you, along with the Third Halo, the Sixth Halo, and the Ninth Halo?”

His voice was angelic, resonant with authority, yet beneath it lurked something cold and dangerous.

The Twelfth Halo slowly lifted her golden eyes, her gaze locking onto the Second Halo. “You may be the Second Halo,” she replied evenly, “but do not speak to me in a condescending manner.”

“Hoo… and what exactly are you going to do about it, Twelfth Halo?” the Second Halo retorted calmly, his expression unchanged.

Before the Twelfth Halo could respond, another voice cut through the tension.

“You can stop with your games, Second Halo,” the Third Halo said sharply. “Just because you hate women doesn’t mean you have to be a dick all the time.”

The words lingered heavily in the air. For a moment, the Second Halo said nothing. His eyes remained fixed on the Third Halo before he clicked his tongue in mild irritation and looked away, choosing silence over escalation.

Among the twelve seated Twelve-Winged Angels, only four were female, the Third, Sixth, Ninth, and Twelfth Halos. No one knew the origin of the Second Halo’s disdain, but it was no secret that he had always been particularly abrasive toward women. Still, no one truly cared for his reasoning. A prick was a prick, regardless of the cause.

“You may continue, Twelfth Halo,” the Third Halo said calmly.

Though the Third, Sixth, Ninth, and Twelfth Halos had all been assigned the mission, responsibility had ultimately fallen to the Twelfth Halo alone. She had accepted it without hesitation, preferring to work independently rather than coordinate with others.

The Third and Twelfth Halos exchanged a brief glance before the Twelfth Halo spoke again.

“As I was saying before I was interrupted,” she continued, “there must be an individual of extreme power involved. Someone possessing genuine reality-warping abilities, powerful enough not only to close the Tears in Reality but also to shield an entire galaxy from the explosion and destruction caused by the collapse of the final Tear.”

Though the Twelfth Halo had not personally witnessed the event, her deduction was flawless. The being she unknowingly referred to was none other than Aura Nova.

“So,” the Seventh Halo spoke, his voice calm as his finger tapped lightly against the armrest of his seat, “we devised a plan, and that plan backfired. We lost millions of forces, all planetary-level beings. We even lost our own brethren in the process.”

“They died for the Cause,” the Ninth Halo said softly, her voice gentle yet absolute. A white veil covered her face, concealing her expression. “For Him. For our Father. For our God.”

With those simple sentences, she silenced any doubt or objection the Seventh Halo might have raised. To question her words would be sacrilege, a direct defiance of their God.

This was the nature of such meetings. Some were peaceful, others descended into chaos. After all, what could one expect when twelve beings of equal hierarchy were confined within a single space? Though their combat prowess varied, their God had forbidden them from ever fighting one another. As a result, none truly knew the full extent of the others’ strength.

“What is the next course of action?” the Eleventh Halo asked, his tone bored, clearly uninterested in the political tensions unfolding.

As the Twelfth Halo prepared to answer, the Fifth Halo interjected.

“Before that,” he said, “tell us what information you gathered during the annihilation of our brethren. We cannot lose this many numbers without at least gaining something in return.”

The remaining Angels nodded in agreement. No force in existence would willingly accept such a catastrophic loss without demanding something to show for it.