The library of the temple stood north of the main complex—a solitary building crowned by a vast circular dome, surrounded by flower-filled courtyards. Mio walked down the long white corridor and entered its doors. Though she’d seen the grand libraries of Seralni, they were but a drop in the ocean compared to this. Thousands of bookshelves stood in perfect rows beneath the soaring dome. Tier after tier lined the atrium, their contents beyond counting in this colossal, three-dimensional archive.

As Mio stood awestruck, a figure approached.

“Aren’t you the new Divine Child?”

“Good afternoon, High Priestess Magnus,” Mio bowed quickly. She knew this temple head was merely a ghost—a projection—but the dignity radiating from her demanded respect.

*Respecting those worthy of respect is virtue itself.*

“What a well-mannered child,” Magnus placed a hand on Mio’s head. “May the Goddess grant you her brightest blessings.”

Warmth flooded Mio’s body—a Divine Art. *An undead from another world wielding holy power?* The anomaly proved this realm’s structure was unnervingly airtight. Without finding its critical flaw, shattering it would be impossible.

“Your name is Theresa, isn’t it?” Magnus smiled warmly. “To receive the Goddess’s favor on your first day… Though it’s early, I’ve decided to elevate you from Beloved Child to Divine Child. You’ll begin Priestess training immediately. Normally, there’d be preparatory studies first—but now, you must strive alone.”

“I will, Your Grace,” Mio met her gaze. No deathly miasma clung to this woman—only sacred radiance. “I came to master knowledge swiftly.”

“A diligent child indeed,” Magnus approved. “For self-study, start at the third shelf on the right. Basic texts for practicing script await there.”

“Thank you.” Mio bowed again.

“Strive well,” Magnus said. “Remember always: the Goddess watches over you, Divine Child.”

After parting ways, Mio ventured deeper. From the third shelf, she took a thick volume sealed with anti-aging enchantments. As she opened it, the scent of fresh ink bloomed. Handwritten script adorned the vellum pages—elegant, meticulous. Crossing world boundaries had granted Mio fluency in all languages here; ancient text posed no barrier.

An epic poem chronicling the Dawn of Divine Rule. Historically valuable, yet useless to her. She returned it and picked another. *Jackpot.* The divine sigil on its cover matched the temple’s Goddess—but as Mio flipped the pages, her brow furrowed. The book was pristine, the script clear and beautiful… yet the Goddess’s name was unreadable.

Like corrupted code.

Visible, yet impossible for her mind to process. *Just like my original name.*

Mio closed the book slowly. *The flaw. I’ve found it.* But a sharper question cut deeper: *What tragedy erased such a mighty Goddess’s name?* If answers hid in this library, why not ask its guardian deity directly?

“Wisdom.”

Mio spoke the true name only she could utter. Crossing worlds let her voice ancient divine names—not modern imitations. *Imitations hold no power. Only the true name summons.*

Holy Light gathered, forming a miniature sanctuary. Within it, Wisdom, God of Knowledge and Arts, materialized. Mio smiled faintly. Even in this false world, libraries remained his sacred halls. Call his true name, and he would answer.

“Thirsty for knowledge again, Mio?”

Wisdom smiled like a scholarly professor, though his projection here flickered weakly—a translucent wraith.

“My apologies for summoning you abruptly,” Mio said. “But I require your wisdom.”

“Granting knowledge is my sacred duty,” Wisdom replied. “Any seeker’s question deserves an answer. Wisdom flows to the earnest.”

“You’re remarkably generous.”

“No. This is an exception—for you.” Wisdom’s gaze sharpened. “What knowledge do you seek, Mio?”

Mio opened the book, pointing to the obscured name. “I wish to know this Goddess’s true name.”

Wisdom’s expression twisted as he saw the sigil. A deep sigh escaped him. He shook his head slowly.

“Mio… all I can say is this: that name carries tragedy. A mistake. A scar branded onto every god’s soul. I *cannot* speak it—not because I refuse, but because divine law binds me too.”

“Not even a hint?” Mio flashed a shameless grin.

“No.” Wisdom’s smile held sorrow.

“A tiny clue?”

“I cannot break divine law,” he said firmly. “Nor defy the pantheon. One erased god is enough. I won’t be the second.”

His wraith vanished. Silence swallowed the shelves.

“Enough,” Mio whispered, head bowed. “Your hint… was enough.”

The polished marble floor reflected her face—a visage twisted beyond recognition. Her hands trembled. Darkness surged from her soul’s depths. *Ah… this feeling again.* Hatred. Profound, world-consuming hatred. *This is my true power.*

“I nearly forgot my purpose,” Mio spread her palms. “Thank you, lingering ghost. You reminded me of what I almost lost. Truly… thank you.”

Black sludge coalesced in her hands, hardening into a cold gun barrel. Bullets lethal enough to end lives loaded the chamber. Gripping the weapon, Mio turned toward the Grand Cathedral.

Afternoon prayers were underway. Chanting maidens offered hymns to the Goddess. Light gathered—and the radiant deity descended. Girls flocked to her, receiving blessings. A scene of pure grace. Lucia stood nearby, singing praises. Beside her, High Priestess Magnus watched with gentle pride as the Goddess played with her devoted children.

Then—ominous energy flooded the hall. Magnus turned.

Mio stood at the entrance, gripping an unfamiliar weapon. Murderous intent shrouded her crimson eyes.

“Theresa?” Magnus gasped. “What’s wrong—”

***BANG!***

A 12.7mm black-iron bullet shattered Magnus’s skull. Bone and brain matter sprayed the obsidian floor. The headless priestess collapsed. Lucia screamed—but Mio coldly aimed at her forehead and fired.

*At least let you exit painlessly.*

Mio advanced. With each step, darkness bled from her soul, staining the floor behind her. The footprints swelled into churning mudflats. Power from the Fragment of Creation seeped backward, corroding this false world, accelerating its collapse. Maidens huddled around the Goddess shrieked at the horror. The Goddess spread her arms to shield them, meeting Mio’s black-aura glare without flinching.

“Theresa, my Beloved Child,” she opened her arms. “Come to me.”

Mio’s reply was a gunshot. The bullet tore through the freckled girl—Hibia—who’d clashed with her earlier.

“Why…?” The Goddess’s smile froze.

“Theresa isn’t my true name,” Mio sneered. “My real name is lost. Your binding words never held me.”

“How…?”

“Answer me,” Mio leveled the gun. “Goddess—what is *your* name?”

The Goddess’s radiance dimmed. Her form shrank into a frail human girl.

“Laura,” Mio sighed. “Is *this* the world you wanted?”

“I only wished…” Tears filled Laura’s eyes. “To eternally praise the Goddess’s name. To honor her love. To keep her loving us…”

“Yet you forgot her name.”

“I… I just…”

“How pathetic. You selfish fool.” Mio pressed the gun to Laura’s temple. “For your hollow satisfaction, you trapped these children—these innocent souls—here. Do you know their agony? How long you’ve bound them? *Ten thousand years!* And you—you who forgot your Goddess’s name—you dare speak of praising her?”

“Ahhh…” Laura’s pupils shrank to pinpricks. A choked whimper escaped her.

The world twisted. Shattered like broken glass. Sunset skies replaced the golden dome. The glorious temple crumbled into rotten ruins. The Goddess’s statue lay destroyed, its base cracked and weathered. In the desecrated sanctuary, a withered undead knelt before Mio—shriveled muscles, distorted face, mummy-like and hideous.

“Look at yourself, Laura,” Mio said softly. “And…” she swept her gaze around, “look at the souls you imprisoned.”

Laura raised her head. Eyes burning with ghostly fire scanned the surroundings. Twisted spirits circled them, wailing in despair—their forms grotesquely warped beyond recognition.

“These are your ‘tools’ for praising your Goddess,” Mio whispered. “See their suffering. See their sorrow. For your narrow dream, you twisted them like this. Bound them for ten thousand years.”

“I… I wasn’t wrong…” Laura’s voice rasped. “I only…”

“Then prove your devotion,” Mio’s smile turned cruel. “Speak your Goddess’s name. *Say it*, Laura. If you can.”

“G-God…” Laura’s voice trembled. “Why can’t I chant your name…? Why… *WHY?!!!*”

Putrid miasma erupted from her body, spiraling into a colossal tornado. Mio stood unmoved within the storm. The surrounding wraiths flickered, fading.

“Enough, Laura. This struggle is meaningless.” Mio closed her eyes. “As a farewell gift to the afterlife—I’ll tell you the Goddess’s *current* name.” She leaned close, whispering into Laura’s ear.

The miasma vanished instantly. Laura’s undead form rose. Shriveled flesh regained suppleness. Rational light returned to her hollow eyes. Within seconds, the girl in the white dress stood before Mio—her resentment gone, cleansed.

"Teresa…" Lara gazed at Mio. "Thank you."

After speaking, she gently hugged Mio, then dissolved into fireflies and vanished.

"What a troublesome person. Yet she left so decisively in the end." Mio holstered her gun and looked at the surrounding spirits—Lucia, Magnus, Hibia, and the other girls were all watching her.

Mio unleashed the power of the Reaper.

"I am the ferryman of the netherworld. Here, I open the path to the land of the dead. Lost souls, I hear your prayers. I open the gate to the afterlife for you. Be freed from the agony of undeath. Return to the cycle of reincarnation."

The Gate of the Eternal World opened. The formless spirits vanished into the light.

"Thank you…"

A voice of gratitude drifted on the wind. Mio gazed at the sunset glow and sighed.

"Sigh. I’m really not cut out to be a savior," Mio muttered, staring at the gun in her hand. Suddenly, she snapped. "Damn you, Deus! Die, Reaper! Die!!!!!!"

Caw! The Reaper’s crow, as if in response, flapped its wings and fled.