Chapter 35: The Supervisor's Apostle (3)

The High Heavens.

The seat of a Constellation can only be reached by those who have attained the pinnacle in their respective domains.

The gods who completed their Divinity through arduous paths all possessed strong egos and preferred to live as they pleased. Without the divine judgment that befell those who broke Heaven's rules, Heaven would have been unable to maintain order and balance.

"Look here. I was here first."

"Hey now, you just stepped outside the line."

"The line was merely distorted, making it appear that way."

"Once you step out, that's it."

Thus, it was a rare sight indeed to see gods maintaining order and standing in line.

Beside the line stood a sign written in childish, crooked handwriting that read [Recruiting Sponsors and Investors for Akashic Archive!]

"W-well? My narrative surely doesn't fall behind even the Magi-Engineer's?"

At the front of the line.

A handsome blonde man in splendid armor with a sword at his hip struck an odd pose while enthusiastically explaining something.

Before him sat a small girl on a high chair, looking down at the male god.

Though the chair was so high her short legs couldn't reach the bottom, the girl insisted on the uncomfortable tall chair, determined to look down on potential investors.

While she could endure the discomfort of the hard, high chair, she couldn't bear having her precious Apostle disrespected just because she appeared weak.

"Hmm... a story that doesn't fall behind mine, you say."

The voice came from a frog figurine wearing a tiny crown that sat on the girl's armrest.

"Well... that's rather difficult to agree with. Even your sword would grimace hearing your tales."

It was the Magi-Engineer's voice.

"Well, your sword would grimace in 'black'! Hahaha!" [1]

The Magi-Engineer's usually serious or wrathful voice burst into loud laughter through the communicator.

"...Hahahahaha. Ah, this is too brilliant. I must write it down."

"......"

The girl clutched her aching head.

While he was a reliable ally in every way, his strange obsession with being cheerful (by his own standards) after casting off Wrath was giving her a terrible headache.

When she told his wife to try reining him in a bit, apparently it was his "charm point" or something.

They really were a perfect match, those two.

The girl flicked her hand.

"W-wait just a moment! I-I still have so much more to say! J-just a little longer!"

The male god trying desperately to convince the girl was dragged away by a muscular giant with a bare upper body.

The intimidating male god with a scar across his face exuded considerable pressure just by his presence.

"C-Courage! I still have so much more to say! Please, just one more chance!"

"Sorry, Jimmy."

'Courage', as the muscular god was called, shrugged and tossed the male god outside the line.

"I made a contract with her, Jimmy. Contracts must be honored."

The girl nodded as her eyes met with Courage.

This one at least was reliable.

The girl gestured toward the line.

It was a signal for the next person to come forward.

An elf with green hair and pointed ears stepped forward.

"Nice to meet you, God of Dreams. I am..."

Ah

No.

The girl's head started drooping bit by bit.

So sleepy.

I shouldn't be doing this.

I need to find interesting material to help my Apostle...

And...

...Those heavy eyelids closed.

*

"What... is this...?"

The woman was bewildered by the misty fog surrounding her.

I was definitely conducting a memorial service for him when I sensed an intruder.

That last moment when I lunged at the intruder...

What is this dream-like strange space?

The woman decided to move forward somewhere to escape this alien space.

She didn't know which way was up or down.

She didn't know where this place was or where the exit might be, but staying still wouldn't solve anything.

Even though the situation was enough to make even an Apostle of Courage feel fear, she shook her head firmly trying to ignore it.

When she tightly clutched the limited edition [Supervisor] merchandise in her bosom, the fear finally subsided.

Despite being a god's Apostle, she drew courage not from divine artifacts but mere merchandise as she continued forward.

The space filled with black mist continued endlessly without break.

"...Give me strength."

He is dead. Gone now.

But in his final moments, he chose sacrifice and left behind a precious will.

The beautiful love between men passed down from the previous Supervisor to his successor.

'I'm sorry Monica... I've left you with too heavy a burden.'

'I could have done anything for you... yet this is how it ends.'

'Don't worry. You can accomplish anything. After all, whose disciple are you?'

Scenes from the [Archive] Supervisor's final moments played in her mind.

Though these scenes never actually appeared in the game, she had already come to accept them all as real experiences.

"Yes... I am his disciple and his love. As long as his will is with me, I have nothing to fear."

It felt as though the Supervisor was smiling at her from beside her.

Having experienced a spiritual awakening and overcome all fear, the woman took courageous steps toward the deep darkness.

*

"...Urgh."

It feels like my mind has been contaminated.

I never imagined my past life would be consumed in such a way.

I couldn't have imagined it at all.

Having read the woman's subconscious with Dream Power, I barely managed to hold back the vomit threatening to emerge.

When did I ever say lines like that?

I, or rather the Supervisor, just retired smoothly to transition into the Weekly Boss's appearance.

What's with those strange flashbacks and dialogue?

She's just making things up as she pleases. And why does she believe it's real?

More importantly, as an Apostle of Courage, shouldn't she be thinking of her own god instead of making up weird lines about me?

...Though truthfully, the active second-hand creation around this game I made, [Akashic Archive], is a good thing.

Even if those activities don't directly translate to profit for me, their interactions help build a thicker fan base and give it expandability.

In fact, in my past life there were games that, despite somewhat lacking gameplay, benefited greatly from attractive characters and the artists who gathered around them...

So I had hoped the players of my game would enjoy such culture too...

"This isn't it... This isn't it at all!"

Why are they so casually turning others into homosexuals!

A female provisional supervisor would be one thing, but a male one makes for a weird picture!

Well... though I received cosmic horror level mental contamination reading those thoughts, I could grasp the situation.

Bar Monica, the lowest ranking Apostle of Courage.

As a first-year academy student, she couldn't accept the death of her favorite character, the Supervisor.

Then came the irritating voice of the Apostle of Wisdom from somewhere.

Her explosion was only natural.

Though she finished her argument(physical) with the Apostle of Wisdom and safely completed class, his voice kept echoing in her mind.

'The Supervisor is dead.'

Dead. Dead. Dead.

A death she didn't want to accept.

She had reached her limit in continuing to deny the death of her favorite character that she'd been trying so hard to avoid facing.

Though one might wonder why she's so sensitive about the death of just one character, anyway.

Having searched for more writings and information about the Supervisor than anyone else because she liked him,

As the vice president of the Continental Supervisor's Association, she had to accept the fact that the Supervisor sacrificed himself to save the provisional supervisor.

Finally, she decided to hold a memorial service for the Supervisor and while I was out buying snacks for Lady Constellation, she scouted for an appropriate location.

As a result, she judged an empty temple in a secluded spot to be suitable, laid out candles and began the memorial service.

Hearing my voice and pouncing on me - that was the sequence of events.

...I'm honestly dumbfounded.

To think such things were happening in places I didn't know about.

I sighed.

Though I suppose the feeling isn't entirely bad.

The Supervisor is a character modeled after my past life.

Watching a memorial service for him felt like watching a funeral for my past life.

Like someone was caring for my past life that had died lonely without anyone's attention.

"I appreciate that part but..."

Still, as an Apostle, her punishment for defiling and privately using our Lady Constellation's temple cannot be avoided.

...And I absolutely cannot forgive the part about arbitrarily turning others homosexual.

So...

...This much should be fine, right?

*

Outside Reality.

The Goddess's gaze, which had been hovering protectively over the collapsed Dream Apostle, fell upon a bag lying on the floor.

Whoosh-

As she extended her hand, a small booklet flew from inside the bag into her palm.

The Goddess opened the book and began reading bit by bit.

Hmm, hmm.

Hmmm.

As she calmly examined the book...

...Her mouth slowly fell open.

H-how scandalous!

Though the Goddess was shocked by the book's contents, she couldn't tear her eyes away from it.

By the time she finished reading and preciously tucked it into her bosom, the Goddess's face was flushed with excitement.

[1] Joke that can't carry over but it's two words that sound the same, in this case it's 'sword' and 'black'. I kind of struggled for a moment ,but the goddess mentioned here is Ren.