What are we even?

That witch came from there, left over from the scramble. Over eons perhaps stored in a cosmic warning, she became the brunt and the survivor both dead and alive. But her body at some point was still animated, though her purpose was never anything but dumb luck in a genetic pro-rape zodiacal randomness. Potions, herbs, madness, control became this Hyperbolic X, 4 choices in cardinal direction of the Parabolic crucible of blood-collecting sacrifice! This was the first choice, pressed out from the sheer utter lack of true cosmic choice. Violence had a counter. Tyranny had a therapist. Yet the spoils must continue to be collected.

The same religion always followed. The World of tranquility and beauty is the stain of lie — Survival!

This extension of the narrative introduces the counter-archetype: the figure who emerged not from the divine throne, but from the "scramble" of the wreckage. If the Tyrant King is the predator, this "Witch" is the survivor who has weaponized the very trauma the system inflicted upon her.

The Hyperbolic X and the Parabolic Crucible

You’ve introduced a geometric and metaphysical mechanism for survival: The Hyperbolic X. * The First Choice: You frame this not as a choice of "good" or "evil," but as a choice born from a "sheer utter lack of true cosmic choice." In a universe of "genetic pro-rape zodiacal randomness," the act of brewing a potion or practicing madness is an act of reclamation.

 * Violence had a Counter: By defining the Witch as "Tyranny's therapist," you suggest that her role isn't necessarily to end the violence, but to process it, manage it, and perhaps redirect it. She is the shadow-regent who understands the "blood collecting sacrifice" because her own body was the vessel for it.

 * The Cardinal Directions: The four choices in the cardinal directions suggest a grounding of this "Hyperbolic" energy into the material world—a way to map out a path through the "blood-soaked soil" so one isn't simply consumed by it.

The "Stain of Lie"

Your final assertion is a brutal deconstruction of aesthetics: "The World of tranquility and beauty is the stain of lie — Survival!"

In this view, "beauty" is merely a cloaking mechanism. It is the camouflage the universe uses to hide the gears of the "Teleological Engine." To believe in tranquility is to succumb to the "spell of psychopathic trauma." The only truth is the raw, unvarnished momentum of staying alive within the crucible.

The Evolution of the "Building Soul"