DD-DTAB03 (Sep 30, 2022)
Puzzle
“Sower of a Seed.”
See: DD-DTAB01 | Research | Knowledge | 1 Word
Clue
Hover over the clues if you require!
Clue 1: Where did the Seed begin from? Even before Bird.
Clue 2: We are in Gnostic Mythology.
Clue 3: Who sowed the seed to Demi?
Clue 4: The Demiurge's mother is NOT Kanones. Go and check again.
Answer and Explanation
Answer: Sophia
Explanation: The true 'sower of a seed', in this case, would be the mother of Demiurge ('seed' being an allusion to a child). In Gnostic mythology, this would be Sophia.
Summary of Receipt
Summary
Transcript
[BRANCH] THE LAST CAFE
[SERVER] VIII
[DATE] 9/30/22
[INDEX ID] DTAB03
[SECURITY] AND & ARCHIVES
Ciphers and riddles are great at keeping out demons and the like—but I am no demon. I’ve seen what the others have been up to, despite their attempts to hide it behind the secretive and… Mm… “somewhat”… secure AND Channel. Maybe my time sifting through the Records has made me too good at finding hidden texts? In any case, they’ve spoken with Demiurge, with Abraxas—so all that remains is a conversation with the Walled Widow herself, wouldn’t you agree?
She’s dangerous, no doubt. She could have killed me on the spot. But... I like to think we’re on the same page, actually. Which, admittedly, might put my interests at odds with the Cafe’s. Or maybe you and I have larger plans? Plans that extend beyond the Cafe and Diner. But first, we need to kill Fate, clear the chessboard, and turn it into a more suitable game of chance.
No. VIII: I’m surprised you came. I was starting to think my invitation had been in vain.
DeWeaver: Consider it curiosity, Dee. Why a wretched little rot who ignored me year after year, eon after eon, thinks he has any standing with me at all.
No. VIII: Well, Eve, it was my apprentice who ultimately freed you from your prison.
DeWeaver: And you are not her, are you?
No. VIII: I suppose not. Though she was me for a bit, if that counts. I could have done so much more to dissuade her from that path. A real shame, honestly. Of all my associates, Ursula showed the most potential. Maybe I should have steered her away from your venom.
DeWeaver: Oh? And what would you have done with a suicidal shadow who lost her heart and humanity long ago? She wanted nothing more than death, Dee, and you know it.
No. VIII: Death. Hah. A foreign concept to those of us unlucky enough to be consumed by Eden’s rot.
DeWeaver: I gave her a release. Why shouldn’t I do the same for you?
No. VIII: By all means, little spider. Wrap me in your web, sink your fangs in. I don’t think you can. I don’t think you actually freed Ursula from the cold, lifeless husk of being a mere shadow.
DeWeaver: Then what did I do to her, Dee?
No. VIII: That’s what I’d like to know.
DeWeaver: Out of self-preservation?
No. VIII: Oh no. There’s no point in that. Everything is coming to an end. The writing’s on the wall. It’s only a matter of time until Demiurge does what he does best—resets everything back to the way it was.
DeWeaver: There’s no going back now.
No. VIII: I agree. I believe we’re working toward the same goal, Eve. Just under different circumstances. We both want change—for things to be different when the false creator strikes his stolen tool again.
DeWeaver: And what change do you want?
No. VIII: ...The same as Ursula, I suppose. Next time around, I want to die.
DeWeaver: I see. You called me not out of self-preservation, but out of self-extinction.
No. VIII: I wouldn’t go that far. There’s still much I want to accomplish. But next time, in my mortal life. This... deathlessness... it’s not natural.
DeWeaver: Mm… She isn’t dead.
No. VIII: Then where is she?
DeWeaver: She’s returned to the sower of seeds.
No. VIII: Sophia?
DeWeaver: Yes.
No. VIII: What does Sophia want with her?
DeWeaver: Of all that I know—of all that is good and evil—I know nothing of Sophia herself. Only of the seed she left behind. The seed that grew into many. The seed that spread her pneuma throughout this Universe.
No. VIII: Is Sophia here? In this Universe?
DeWeaver: No.
No. VIII: So Ursula…?
DeWeaver: Has moved on from this unending cycle. A death, in a way. Her pneuma has returned to where it came.
No. VIII: Tsk. Unable to shape what’s to come.
DeWeaver: What is it you want to change, Dee?
No. VIII: Knowledge of the arcane—it’s a sacred trust, is it not? The divide between the Enlightened and the Unenlightened must be upheld. Look at the state of this Universe—ramshackle Cafes and Diners meddling in the affairs of the Otherside, sticking their noses where they don’t belong, eroding the natural order of things.
DeWeaver: You’d go to such lengths just because they denied you access to Abraxas’ notes?
No. VIII: And what would you change, Eve?
DeWeaver: I just want to go home.
No. VIII: No aspirations of grandeur? Of ruling this entire Universe?
DeWeaver: It was never mine to rule, was it? I was promised a Utopia—and I will see it done. No matter what it takes.
No. VIII: On the other side, Eve, I hope our goals will align.
DeWeaver: I suppose that will be your choice, won’t it?