Pale moonlight spilled through the window, dusting the wooden floor with a layer of silver frost. A gentle breeze stirred the tree shadows, quietly fracturing the tranquil moonlight. Mio lay on the upper bunk, staring at the pitch-black ceiling. The thin cotton quilt over her carried the scent of sunshine. Below, Lola’s steady breathing filled the quiet room. It was deep into the night, long past the hour when girls should have been asleep—but Mio felt no trace of drowsiness.

This otherworld was nearly flawless. The thought made her restless.

The surest way to conquer such a realm was to find its flaw—a single inconsistency, a tiny deviation from reality. Exploited correctly, it could trigger a chain reaction, shattering the world’s self-preservation and exposing its core. Destroy that core, and the entire otherworld would crumble.

The problem? Mio couldn’t find that flaw.

This world was too perfect. Time flowed normally. Space felt intact. No artificial seams. Scaling the walls might reveal the boundary, but that was useless—only an internal flaw could collapse the system. Mio suspected this realm wasn’t built on one person’s memories. Worst case? It was woven from the filtered, rationalized memories of every soul trapped here. A seamless paradise.

That complicated everything.

If she stopped thinking, the otherworld would consume her. Time was running out—for her real body, waiting beyond this dream. No wonder so many souls lingered here. Simply put, this was a pure utopia. No slaughter. No slavery. No oppression. Only unwavering faith and hymns to the divine. Compared to this, the real world felt like hell.

How ironic—that paradise existed only in the dead’s fantasies.

*Wait.*

Mio’s mind snagged on the lost Divine Seal. *That* might be the key. Why was it lost? How? Who did it belong to? Only by unraveling this could she find a flaw big enough to shake the world. Gods didn’t just vanish. Even without worship, they lingered in other forms. It was hard to believe a deity with such a glorious temple would fade completely—erased name, forgotten seal.

*When did this happen?*

She recalled texts from Seralni’s library: humanity’s early age, the Divine Era. Back then, gods walked among mortals. They held absolute power—over life, death, even reincarnation. Wisdom, the god of knowledge and art who’d appeared before her… He was clearly high-ranking. Yet his manifested form wasn’t even a true projection—just a solid phantom. Meanwhile, the goddess today had effortlessly summoned an A-rank divine entity. The gap in power was staggering.

Before the Godslayers exiled them, the gods wielded such authority. Thank the stars that era was long gone, reduced to myth. Mio couldn’t imagine surviving in a world crawling with deities.

This otherworld’s timeline likely matched that ancient Divine Era. But why lay in ruins? Why the scars of destruction everywhere? Someone had erased the goddess here—her faith, her name, her very existence. The Swords of the Pantheon forbade war between gods. *What happened?*

The more Mio pondered, the deeper the mysteries grew. She turned over silently and closed her eyes.

***

“Theresa!”

*Thud!*

“Mmph—!”

A heavy weight slammed into her. Mio gasped, eyes flying open. Two soft mounds pressed against her face, stealing her breath. She tried to push them away, but their owner let out a breathy whimper.

“Lola! What are you doing?!” Mio shoved the girl aside.

“Waking you up!” Lola rolled onto her back beside Mio. “I’ve been calling you for five minutes! You were dead asleep. So I used my ultimate technique—the *Lola Tackle*! Even my dad can’t resist it. Heheh.”

*Of course he panics with those pressing against him.*

“When did I fall asleep?!” Mio sat bolt upright. Morning sunlight streamed through the window. Birdsong wove through the trees. “What time is it? How long was I out?”

“Overnight, obviously.” Lola propped herself up on an elbow. Gravity pulled at her neckline, yanking her collar open. Mio’s face flushed crimson as she looked away—her lingering human instincts still recoiled from such temptations.

“Just… get up,” Mio muttered, leaping down to dress. “What’s on the schedule for this morning?”

“Sister Luciana’s lecture.” Lola scrambled down the wooden ladder. “If we’re late again, she’ll scold us! All your fault for oversleeping!”

“Ah. My fault again.” Mio finished tying her silver hair back with a ribbon.

“Hurry!” Lola grabbed papyrus sheets and charcoal sticks. “Here’s yours. Sister Luciana’s strict—take notes for her questions.”

“Got it.” Mio took them. “Thanks.”

“No problem!” Lola beamed. “Now—run!”

Mio followed Lola’s energetic sprint out of the dorm, down the wooden corridor (ignoring the matron’s protests about running), and onto the gravel path toward class.

Sister Luciana’s classroom sat east of the Grand Cathedral—a standalone chamber. Early students already occupied the marble seats circling the podium. Lola and Mio burst in just as the hourglass on Luciana’s desk emptied.

“Well,” Luciana said, flipping open a thick tome. “You two are safe. Class begins.”

Frankly? The lecture was dull.

Luciana paused after every few sentences to praise her god. The other students seemed used to this inefficient rhythm. But Mio grew restless. The lecture avoided *everything* about the goddess enshrined here—not her name, not her domain.

This class offered no clues. Mio’s mind wandered halfway through.

When it finally ended, her papyrus sheet was blank while others overflowed with notes. She sighed softly. *I really am a bad student.*

As she exhaled, someone snatched her empty sheet. Mio looked up. A freckled, plain-faced girl with chestnut hair—older than her—held it aloft.

“Look at the new Divine Child,” she announced. “Not a single word written.”

Heads turned. The air turned tense.

“Why weren’t you paying attention?” the girl demanded. “Listening to the divine teachings is our duty! To become the god’s beloved, we must strive! But you—basking in divine favor—you grow lazy! Unacceptable!”

Mio met her gaze, expression calm.

“Anything to say for yourself?” the girl pressed. “Theresa!”

“My apologies,” Mio said evenly. “I arrived here only yesterday. I can’t read. I can’t write. Or did *you* master both on your first day?”

Silence crashed down. Every girl—including the accuser—froze like puppets.

*Flaw found.*

Mio exploited it, sending a ripple through the world.

“Hibia!” Lola shoved through the circle of stiff figures. “What are you doing? Theresa just arrived! None of us could write on our first day! We memorize the god’s grace first—knowledge comes later! *That’s* what we’re taught!”

Her words acted like a spell. The frozen girls burst back to life.

“Hibia!” Lola’s voice turned stern. “As class monitor, I suggest you bury that ugly jealousy. Focus on the divine teachings—not hurting newcomers.”

“I… I…” Hibia bowed her head. “I’m sorry.”

“No harm done,” Mio said graciously. “I *was* distracted. Forgive me. I’ll learn quickly—I won’t hold anyone back.”

The tension dissolved. Girls returned to their seats. Lola slid beside Mio, looping an arm around her neck with playful affection.

“Hibia’s fiercely competitive,” she whispered. “But she’s prone to envy too. Be kind to her. Helping each other—that’s the god’s will.”

“Understood,” Mio nodded. “I’ll remember.”

“I love you, Theresa!” Lola kissed her cheek and dashed off.

Mio traced the spot on her cheek, thoughtful. This otherworld was perfect—but flaws existed. The one she’d just found was too small to shatter the realm. She needed something bigger.

*The library.*

She gathered her charcoal and papyrus, heading toward the library Lola had shown her yesterday.