Surviving without God

A multitude of questions rushed through Gunther’s mind.

At what exact moment had he ended up in the past? And was this truly the past at all? The sensations were different from what he had felt when using the Tablets before. And most importantly—how did the Ellen Beyra standing before him know “him”?

Yet those questions faded before he could voice them. Gunther’s attention was seized entirely by one thing.

— I’m glad to meet you for the first time, Gunther.

A strange greeting for a mother addressing her “son.”

“...I see.”

Gunther looked at Ellen in shock.

She... knew he was not “Gunther.”

“She knew that someone would enter her son’s body.”

After the greeting, Ellen said nothing more. She simply patted “little Gunther” on the back with her thin, frail hand. The child, basking in that warmth, continued to cling to his mother. But Ellen’s gaze never left the adult Gunther for even a moment.

“...Damn it.”

Gunther slowly closed his eyes. The truth he had tried so hard to ignore finally surfaced.

Four years ago. Lee Jonghyeon had entered Gunther’s body.

Then what happened to that simple, innocent child—the true owner of this body—who should have grown into a decent young man? Had he been consumed and erased by a soul from another world? Or, like what he had seen in the Bay of the Dead...

“No. That can’t be allowed.”

Having one’s life controlled by another’s will because of unjust misfortune—that was what Gunther hated most. It was precisely what drove him to try to save this world from Luthien.

But realizing that he himself—albeit unwillingly—might have done something similar to the child before him filled him with an indescribable disgust.

So, before anything else, Gunther threw a bitter question at Ellen:

— Was it you... who brought me here? Into this body?

Ellen answered immediately:

— No. Your presence here, in this body, is the result of your own will.

— ...What?

For a moment, Gunther was speechless. He had feared vague answers like those “Rhombuses” gave. But reality was worse. A ridiculous lie.

— That’s nonsense...! Why would I—

Forgetting that Moon Wolf was nearby, Gunther raised his voice. But when he saw little Gunther flinch, he immediately lowered it.

Fortunately, Moon Wolf said nothing. She simply looked silently at the “Gunthers”... then turned her gaze away and quietly walked toward the village. Rather than satisfying her curiosity, she chose to respect her subordinate’s privacy. Thanks to such a tactful commander, Gunther was able to calm down slightly and look back at Ellen.

— So you’re saying... I wanted to end up inside this body?

Impossible. At that time, Lee Jonghyeon had only one wish: to live peacefully on Earth with his sister. He had never once imagined a future where he would die dozens of times and suffer in this harsh world.

But Ellen remained silent. She simply continued to look at him.

Those eyes.

If abstract concepts like mystery, will, and wisdom took form, they would look exactly like that. In her calmly shining azure pupils, there was not a trace of doubt. A gaze untouched by the very concept of falsehood. It was nothing like the eyes of the powerful, rulers, or sages Gunther had met in this world.

At that moment, Gunther understood why Luthien had imprisoned her in Pendrox. From the perspective of evil seeking to devour the world, someone with such eyes would be eliminated immediately.

......

Despite that overwhelming gaze, Gunther’s tension and wariness gradually faded. As if the true owner of the body—“Gunther”—was sharing his feelings with him.

— B-brother. Please don’t be mad at Mom. I’m sorry... Mom is very, very sick. It just hurts her.

Gunther let out a sigh. He picked up the child, who had already left Ellen’s arms and clung to his trousers.

— ...I’m not angry.

At that moment, Ellen’s lips trembled slightly.

— So in your world, this dimension was called that? A fitting name. Quite fitting.

Gunther silently watched Ellen. Something like a smile flickered across her lips for an instant, then vanished.

— Tell me more. About that... about the channel through which you first came into contact with this world.

Gunther had long known: this world was not just a game. That much was obvious. He had lived through moments no game could replicate—life and death, breath and warmth filling the gaps between mechanics. He could no longer deceive himself into thinking this was merely code.

And yet, something still troubled him. Why was the information from the “game” accurate? Relying on his experience as a hardcore player, Gunther had saved his life more than once. He had prevented predetermined disasters and uncovered hidden truths before anyone else.

That was why he desperately wanted to know the truth. How could records of this world exist on Earth in the form of a “game”?

“...If I give her information first, she’ll answer my questions.”

Having made his decision, Gunther chose his words carefully and spoke:

— Information about this dimension... was transmitted in the form of a game... entertainment.

— Entertainment?

In response, Gunther explained what a “game” was in his world. Creating a fictional stage, establishing rules, living through a story. But he emphasized that their plots were far from trivial.

And he admitted that he had enjoyed it more than most. As he spoke, Ellen’s gaze grew deeper.

— ...That’s how it was. So, like I said, I didn’t come here by my own will.

After a brief silence, Ellen continued with an unexpected remark:

— Dimensions are not isolated from one another.

That single sentence became the key that unlocked the doubts Gunther had carried for so long.

— The same applies to your homeland and this dimension. A faint connection existed between them... and the God of Time sent information about this world through that channel.

— ...Why? Why send information about this world?

Ellen answered without hesitation:

— To prevent a recurring, inevitable destruction.

A recurring, inevitable destruction? Gunther’s pupils trembled. He had heard something like that before.

— The creator of the game you spoke of was likely a person of exceptional inspiration. Whether through dreams or intuition, they received fragments of information and managed to recreate this world in the form of a game.

— Wait, then that means...

— Yes. If in your dimension the information was processed into a “game,” then in others it may have become a novel, and in yet others—a myth.

Falling into silence, Gunther finally realized something. It wasn’t a logical conclusion, but a flash of intuition. ...Yet putting it into words was not easy.

His lips trembled, then froze. Only after a moment did he force the words out, as if pushing past something stuck in his throat:

— ...Then there were many who could have become “Gunther.”

At that moment, Ellen’s face also stiffened slightly. Outwardly, nothing changed—but Gunther understood.

“That’s it.”

She wouldn’t answer anything more on this subject. Still, what he had learned already meant a great deal.

Connections between dimensions. Recurring inevitable destruction. “Suitable candidates.”

The God of Time had been searching other worlds for a savior to prevent the end of this one. And the one chosen... was him.

Quietly absorbing this, Gunther ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) asked another question. A more “practical” one.

— ...Then what is this place? Did I really return to the past?

Ellen slowly shook her head.

— No. This is not the true past... but neither is it an empty illusion.

— Then what is it...

— Relying on the omnipotence of the God of Time, it is closer to a reconstruction of time that once existed in reality.

Seeing Gunther’s confusion, Ellen added:

— Time does not flow in a straight line. It appears like a river, but in truth it consists of layers stacked upon one another. We have accessed one such layer. This is not physical movement into the past, but rather a reconnection to coordinates that have already been traversed.

— ......?

Ellen let out a quiet sigh.

— ...How dense you are.

— What?

— It’s a difficult concept to grasp. And... it isn’t that important.

She looked straight at him.

— What matters is that we, however imperfectly, have met here and now.

At that moment, a sharp gust of wind swept through the forest. Leaves rustled, and Ellen’s black hair fluttered lightly. As Gunther swallowed, his breathing suddenly unsteady, Ellen quietly finished:

— I am Ellen Beyra, the last priestess of the God of Time, and...

Her gaze deepened immeasurably.

— You, a savior from another world, carrying a fragment of the God of Time within you.

And then—

— Oh my, what are you two talking about so interestingly?

The voice rudely shattered the moment.

— I’ve never seen Lady Ellen talk so lively before!

Turning, Gunther saw a familiar face.

“Damn.”

Aunt Catherine. The owner of one of the loudest voices in the village... She wasn’t a bad person, but her excessive chatter and habit of meddling in others’ affairs always made Gunther avoid her.

— Here, have a bite. You’re Lady Ellen’s guest, and we haven’t properly treated you.

Her hands were full of food. Considering the village’s dire situation, it was a generous offering... though it seemed not entirely selfless.

— Oh-ho? Hmm? Hmmm?

Her curious gaze darted between the adult and the child Gunther.

— Oh my goodness. Like two drops of water.

— ......?

— Gunther, come here, play a bit with your aunt.

— Don’t want to.

— Oh, don’t be stubborn. Listen, Gunther’s father... oh, I mean, dear stranger. Leave Gunther with me for a bit.

Without realizing it, Gunther handed “little Gunther” over to Catherine. Taking the child, she narrowed her eyes at the adult Gunther and...

— Why show up now of all times... though well, better late than never.

Muttering those ambiguous words, she hurried toward the village. The two left behind watched her in confusion.

......

— ...How simple-minded people are.

Still, thanks to that, they were alone again. Gunther cleared his throat. His head was already spinning from everything he’d learned, but there was still so much to ask.

Why had “Gunther” left the village before turning ten? What had he been doing during the years of his absence before Luthien captured him? What should he do next? Questions piled up endlessly.

But just as those questions began to tangle in his mind, competing for priority—

— As I expected... we are being interrupted.

— What?

Ellen’s gaze was fixed on empty space.

— Father used Luthien’s power to steal a part of my being.

A chill ran down Gunther’s spine at those ominous words.

— What? Stole? Explain clearly.

— He does not want our meeting to continue. But this place is a fracture of time. His actions will be severely limited here.

A short breath. Ellen’s gaze pinned him in place.

— So you will handle it.

Thump.

Something beneath his feet trembled. Gunther reflexively looked down. The ordinary forest ground beneath him began to ripple strangely, like looking through disturbed water.

— What is this...

Cracks spread like shattered glass. Through them, something could be seen.

Gunther understood instantly.

That’s why. Why the condition for advancing in hierarchy had been: “Survive until you reach home and uncover its secret.”

— Ellen!

Gunther reached out. But the strange cracks were already pulling at his ankles like a swamp. He was sinking. No—he was being dragged.

“Where?”

Ellen’s earlier explanation flashed through his mind.

“Time does not flow in a straight line... This is not physical movement into the past, but a reconnection to coordinates already traversed.”

Reconnection to coordinates. A father who stole the power of time. He wants to kill him. But how?

No—correction. To which “coordinates” would he send him? Something clicked in Gunther’s mind, and for the first time in a long while, he cursed:

— You bastard!

— Do not be afraid, Gunther. We will meet again.

Boom!

The world flipped. Gunther’s vision completely blurred, and his body began to fall—down, sideways, upward, somewhere... Endless, endless falling.

The last thing he saw through the cracks was Ellen Beyra’s gaze, following him to the very end.

“If it’s that place...!”

Before he disappeared, there was something he had to do. Gunther stretched out his hand with all his strength.

[You place 1,000 Karma on the scale]

And then, finally...

Tiling!

[Three gods clear their throats]

[And with strange expressions, they greet you, who has arrived in their era]