One moment, the visage of Curagulus was struggling and waiting to be taken to the true home of the Weaver of Extremity just like all the others.
And then in the next moment when this didn't occur, his whole demeanor changed as currently, he floated next to the Dikastes of Extremity freely while gazing with coldness towards the visage of Noah!
When did he find out?
In the distance, the Weaver of Extremity had a cold smile as he voiced out.
{I found out the moment I first walked through the doors of the Arcadian High Hall. All those who were Dikastes hiding in other forms...including the shell of Curagulus.}
A shell of Curagulus!
The plots and means of the Dikastes of Extremity were terrifying as they left one of the most important figures in all this to maintain their form until the most important moment!
So long as they gained access to the lands and domains of the Insurgent before them, they could bring everything he had built down.
But even this...had failed.
HUUM!
The visage of Curagulus twisted as in its place, an oppressively powerful Vitalis Dikastes of Extremity appeared.
Seeing this scene caused the Weaver of Extremity to gaze with a sense of loss as he sighed, trying to pierce the veils of mystery to understand.
When was Curagulus truly Curagulus? The Dikastes taking his form...did such a thing mean they killed the original entity or was he locked off somewhere?
Such questions applied to all the forms of beings that the Dikastes of Extremity took for their disguise as at this moment, the answer was not entirely clear!
They didn't call him a seed.
They didn't call him an Insurgent.
Cavalier Reylyra called him by his name as she seemed to be weaving an intent from the depths of her heart!
The Weaver gazed at her and read her intent.
Many thoughts and weavings danced within his Vermillion colored pupils as he shook his head while beginning to disappear.
{It is better to struggle and be free than to be chained for eons.}
WAA!
With these words, the Weaver of Extremity disappeared.
The only ones left behind in the Aletheian Dream of Arcadia were the Dikastes of Extremity as their intent bubbled silently.
Ferocious expressions appeared on all of their serpentine eyes moments later as massive circular rune circles of black and white appeared, swirling like cataclysmic disks that cut apart all surrounding reality- the Aletheian Dream of Arcadia being torn to nothingness within moments!
Thereafter, their figures began to disappear one after another silently- each taking a different path.
In the midst of swirling records of existence though, slivers of vermillion colored flames continued to shine as the Will of the Weaver of Extremity burned bright.
He had seen through their plays, so why had he followed along?
The answer was a simple one, and yet grand in its complexity.
But very simply...he wanted to answer a question.
The question being...just where exactly did the Dikastes of Extremity call home?