News of the sky's geometric patterns spread instantly.
In capitals and villages alike, interpretations fractured into movements.
The Ascendants declared Kaito humanity's evolutionary leap. They preached unity under the Architect who had rewritten cosmic law.
The Preservation Front formed in opposition—demanding limitations placed on Kaito's movements, fearing dependency on a single being.
Meanwhile, remnants of extremist clergy began whispering a different narrative.
"The Hunger was divine trial," they argued. "The split was heresy."
At the Grand Cathedral, the Archbishop studied the celestial lines still faintly visible at dusk.
"They are communicating with him," he said quietly.
A general crossed his arms. "Then he is negotiating humanity's fate without consent."
That thought spread quickly.
Kaito, unaware of the full scale of unrest, stood atop a mountain ridge as distant cities debated his existence.
He did not seek power.
But his silence was interpreted as authority.
Below, rallies grew.
Statues rose.
So did weapons.
Silver Eyes' presence tightened subtly around areas of intense emotional surge.
"Belief is bending the equilibrium," she warned softly.
Kaito exhaled.
He had defined infinity.
But human division was a force with no clear boundary.
And it was accelerating.