“Um, Jio?” Yu Seongun called to him. “What have you been up to lately...?”
“Making friends.”
“I can hear those friends singing your praises all the way over here.”
“Being loved is a good thing. That is only natural.”
“You’ll have a religion before long.”
Jio tilted his head. “I understand it is a club.”
“Yeah, sure. A religion disguised as a club.”
“I understand religious organizations do not spring up that easily.”
“They can spring up anytime, given a catalyst...”
Especially when a Divinity was already in place.
“Even some nobody can start a religion with a silver tongue. Granted, that would count as a sham religion, but you’re good at captivating people, you’re a Divinity, and you’re generous with rewards.”
“Is that wrong?”
“So you did know what you were doing! No, calling it wrong doesn’t feel quite right... But I have mixed feelings when I think about where your believers’ influence might lead.”
“I have borrowed the form of religion for my own sake, but I want family and friends, not fanatics. I am certain it will not lead anywhere bad,” Jio declared confidently. “The world is far too coldhearted these days.”
“To me, this is just normal.”
Still.
“... I agree it’s nice to see.”
It felt like watching neighbors become family. This would not strip away all the cruelty in the world, but it seemed better than nothing.
“Why are you doing this all of a sudden?”
“As I keep saying, I would like more friends.”
“Ju-hyeon and I weren’t enough for you? Oh, that really hurts.”
“But you will both leave me someday, will you not? Of course, if you would be my friends for life, I would gratefully draw up a contract. But I doubt you would want that.”
“I’m going to die human.”
Ju-hyeon would feel the same.
“So you’re starting a religion because you don’t want to be alone? That’s bold of you.”
“To give you another reason, I wanted to offer fitting rewards to those who do good out of support and affection for me.”
“... Oh, that.”
Yu Seongun recalled Black Cloak’s one-for-one rule. Jio had always enjoyed rewarding humans who pleased him, so, subjectively or objectively, this was bound to happen someday.
‘The timing is just awkward.’
With Black Cloak revealed to be a Divinity, more and more groups of admirers had formed. Jio paid particular attention to those focused on genuine good deeds, and, spurred on by his interest, the members of that club were practically medieval knights.
‘They’re all a little unhinged...’
Was this what people called a clear-eyed lunatic? They all looked kind and upstanding, yet there was something oddly crazed about them.
“... You could call it a kind of oversight, too. Leaving the consequences of your influence unattended isn’t really your style.”
“You are right, Mr. Yu Seongun.” Inside the frame, Jio spoke in his usual flat tone. “The fact that I have acquired divinity will never change.”
“... I suppose not.”
“As the saying goes, if you cannot avoid it, enjoy it.”
“That’s true, too.” Yu Seongun smiled placidly. “Sounds like you’re enjoying it, then.”
“I am.”
“So have you fully defined yourself as a Divinity now? You used to gently deny it, asking how you could possibly be a god. You have no idea how frustrating that was.”
“Hm? I am not a god.”
“Why are we doing this again?”
“Acquiring divinity and being a god are different things,” Jio insisted, as always. “You can inherit divinity and become a portrait in the course of your life.”
“An ordinary human can?”
“I do have a conscience, so perhaps I cannot call myself ordinary. But let us say I am. You could say I am merely an ordinary person who has acquired various traits and abilities.”
“You really are stubborn...”
Then again, it would be stranger if the Root changed its stance over a few human words. In the end, Yu Seongun accepted Jio’s decision and rubbed his neck.
“So, to sum it up, you want to have it all?”
“An excellent summary.”
He intended to be human, a god, everything.
“Is that not splendid?”
“You’re really something.”
“I rather am.”
Why couldn’t he?
* * *
Gods were defined through many concepts. They could be nature too vast for the eye to encompass, fate that no hand could grasp but that would someday arrive, or parents who birthed all things and raised them with love and providence.
But sometimes, they were simply immense mysteries.
“...”
They could not distinguish good from evil. Human morality was ultimately born of human standards and had no bearing on those aloof beings floating in the heavens far above them. Just as one could not discuss human laws with the sky where clouds drifted...
Thus countless Divinities ruined dimensions with a single glance, as easily as breathing.
“...”
They made people suffer and amused themselves by using them as toys.
Do not summon a god. Do not look into their eyes, do not speak their names, and do not listen to their voices lest you go mad.
Every human who knew gods said this. They were calamities so immense that humans had no choice but to hold their breath.
They had to hide. They must not look, or call, or listen. They must not.
“...”
And yet, even knowing all that, humans still cried out to gods.
“... S...”
Begging to be saved.
“... Save, me, plea...”
Begging for help.
“It hurts... so... mu...”
Saying they were too frightened to bear it.
“... Please...”
Pierced all over, he choked and gasped. His body hurt too much for him to think clearly. Ah, he could not even tell how much time had passed. The very act of imagining what he must look like was agony.
‘It hurts.’
He was the only one here.
‘It hurts so much.’
No, was he alone only here? Probably not, he thought. Otherwise, it could not be so quiet. These countless heroes’ graves could not have grown so cold.
Loneliness swelled into terror. Prolonged pain became a daze, and endless groaning became a thirst that gnawed at him. He could not even tell whether he was rotting, burning, or being torn apart.
‘Please save me.’
He had endured for so very long.
‘Please save me.’
He had spent such an endless time alone in this pain, in this darkness.
‘Please save me...’
It did not matter if the pain remained. It did not matter if his body, surely hideous by now, was never restored. Having endured longer than an eternity, the man wanted only one thing.
Though he knew he must not do this.
“... Ar, jio.”
He no longer wanted to be alone.
“Arjio...”
And so the worn, mangled remnant of a onetime hero called upon an evil god.
“... I... see you.”
He looked at him, called him, and listened.
“Mercy...”\n
And failing that, greater pain.
By now, even that would feel like mercy.
* * *
“...?”
Jio blinked as he picked up his forty-first dumpling at the cabin.
“... I think someone called me.”
“Coo?”
“If someone had called me from the sea or the city, it would not have sounded so faint. And if they had called from Earth, I would naturally have heard it clearly. That leaves only one possibility.”
“Coo...”
“I have neglected it for quite some time.”
Jio readily took his hand away from the dumplings.
“You know twenty-three of the remaining dumplings are Daddy’s, children.”
“Coorrrrr.”
“Mwamwamwamwa...”
“Why will no one listen to me?”
Their wicked intention to gobble them up the moment he looked away was plain to see.
‘Is this the power of divinity?’
No, it was a pig’s intuition.
“Anyway, calling my name amounts to wanting to be my friend.”
“Coo...?”
“Calling my name when we have never even met? That is as good as a proposal. The moment they called my name, they must have been prepared to gain a friend in me.”
“Coo??”
“Well, I shall be off. Come along, children. I have every faith that you will choose Daddy over dumplings.”
The teddy bear looked as though he wanted to object, but instead waved a hand packed with stuffing, seeing his son and grandchildren off as if to tell them to take care. Buoyed by that warm love, Jio went upstairs.
Then he lifted the black cloth covering a work he had shoved away in storage.
“...”
The painting of the wasteland.
“... I have always wondered how animals could come out of here.”
It was finally time to solve that mystery.
Jio reached into the painting, becoming another painting himself as he melted into it.
* * *
“...”
“...”
And what Jio saw was not a person.
“... Hm? A deer?”
It was a deer.
“A lovely-looking deer.”
“Eee...”
“A lovely voice, too.”
He had once heard a sika deer cry like that, but this friend looked nothing like one. It was fairly large, with a stately set of antlers.
Aside from their unusual shape, it was an ordinary deer of the sort one might see on Earth.
“A deer like this, in a place like this?”
He was puzzled.
“Come here.”
“Eee...”
“There we are. What a good child.”
Had it understood his words, recognized his gesture, or simply wanted to come over? The gentle-looking deer walked over with the delicate grace of cherry blossoms, stood before Arjio, and leaned its head against him.
“It will make a good friend.”
The description was so simple that it was almost suspicious.
“Though I cannot see what about you is small or young.”
It was certainly suspicious. Every animal that had emerged from the Animal Kingdom so far had been a powerful brute with some twisted feature and an equally twisted temper.
It would hardly be surprising if this deer were only mimicking a docile appearance, but Jio did not much care. Intelligence like that would be welcome.
‘More deserving of affection than the ones that rampage mindlessly and cannot be reasoned with.’
Jio gently stroked the deer’s chin and cheek. “Oh... You are soft.”
“Eee...”
“And your cry is so adorable.”
“Eeen...”
“How cute.”
It seemed to be deliberately making a cuter sound after he called it adorable, but he did not mind whether that was his imagination or not. If it was, its innocence was lovable; if not, its cleverness made it so cute he could bite it.
“...”
But seriously, what was going on?
“There is nothing here.”
“Eep.”
“Yes, my friend.”
Stroking the deer pressed snugly against his side as if they were old friends, Jio asked, “Was there someone here who called the name Arjio? Someone definitely called my name, but the voice has cut off again. It was already so faint I could barely hear it. How troublesome.”
No matter where he looked, there was only barren wilderness without so much as a blade of grass. He could see no creature likely to have distinctly spoken the name “Arjio.” He almost wondered whether he had imagined the voice.
“But surely I did not imagine it, faint as it was. Say, my friend.”
“Eee.”
“Have you ever seen a person here?”
“...”
The deer stepped back a little and tilted its head.
“Hmm, I see.”
Jio broadened his inquiry. “Then what about living things other than yourself?”
“Eeeee.”
The deer began moving as if to show him.
Looking around again, he could not find a single animal, or even a blade of grass. There was no sign of life anywhere, but Jio decided to follow it anyway and see.
“... Hm? Aha.”
Then Jio realized something. “They were underground.”
“Eee...”
“Clever thing.”
An underground entrance, previously hidden by earth and withered weeds, came into view.
Jio offered the deer some jerky he had brought just in case. It sniffed at it before carefully taking it in its mouth. Leaving the deer to enjoy its jerky, he descended into the depths and surveyed his surroundings.
“...”
There was a name attached to the beasts he had been eating all this time.
‘The ruined Abilas rainforest.’
It was the Black Forest, familiar to Arjio as well.
“... Wait, why has it sunk underground?”
“Eep?”
“I was not talking to you. Keep eating.”
He was simply rather dumbfounded.
‘It would take more than an ordinary disaster to do this.’
What tectonic upheaval had occurred while he was away?
(To be continued)
