'Wait, I'm Supposed to Become a Goddess?! But I'm a Guy!'

The two reappeared on the steps of a broad, pale-stoned building in the heart of town.

Foot traffic bustled around them, robed figures in white moved along, some mingling with passersby, others calling out in soft, persuasive tones as they tried to entice people into the church.

The swirl of motion felt constant, yet none of it touched them.

Without a word, Mize and Harapan stepped inside.

The entrance gave way to a hall that gleamed with polished white marble stretching in all directions, reflecting faint golden light from above.

The scent of incense clung faintly to the air, grounding the space with a strange mix of solemnity and ambition.

Figures moved about quietly inside, white-robed believers, many young, some old, but all with a similar solemnity to their steps.

The first generation of devotees in her name which they had recruited before.

Mize’s gaze swept the space curiously, taking in every details, and secretly praising how well Harapan had handled everything on his own.

Along every alcove and corner, life-sized statues stood silent and still, carved with fine precision to mirror her features, elevated posture, and more.

But of course, these statues weren't able to mimic the true charm that the original had.

Before these idols, believers knelt in groups, hands pressed tight to their chests, murmuring prayers she could only partially make out.

Mize smiled, interest evident in her eyes, and the two moved further into the building.

“Quite the design,” Mize muttered, eyeing a cluster of kneeling figures as they passed.

As always, no one noticed their presence.

Harapan, leading the way, didn’t look back but responded smoothly, “Mother, this place was built by my hand to serve as the core headquarters for your faithful."

"With Sir Elias approval and intervention, no one would dare to make trouble for us"

"The more striking it appears, the easier it is for others to believe, and to follow.”

His voice carried the tone of a report more than pride. “In just two days, we’ve gained over 50 believers. But that’s just the beginning. As your miracles continue to spread… so will the numbers.”

They passed another group. Mize’s ears twitched, subtly tuning in to the prayers being whispered between bowed heads.

“O Mother of Life, bless us with good health.”

“Guide us into prosperity.”

“Fill our hearts with deeper faith so we may serve more fully.”

“Grant us strength not just to live… but to keep believing.”

The words weren’t random, Mize realized.

They were laced with subtle conditioning, an emphasis not just on receiving, but on transforming every blessing into deeper devotion.

Power through faith. Wealth through loyalty.

A clever loop which in the end returned back to believing, and repeat.

She glanced at Harapan, inwardly amused.

So he’d woven the tenets of survival and personal gain right into the fabric of worship.

A spiritual economy.

Smart.

She didn't say anything, but she could already sense the future profit, religiously and otherwise.

It was laughable to be honest, all of these and the sole purpose was for points.

'Am I a bad person for doing this?'

'I am not sure'

They stopped before a quiet hallway, where an arch of clear shimmer stood like a bubble pressed into space.

A faint ripple marked it as something more than air.

Harapan stepped through the membrane without hesitation.

Mize followed, and the instant she passed through, the air shifted, quieter inside.

Mize noticed these, smiling and she asked, "Where did you get these formations from?"

"Sir Elias provided them for me, Mother" Harapan responded, walking in.

"It seems Elias is more thoughtful than I thought"

The room inside was modest in size, but dense with presence. Shelves lined the middle, just two rows, placed in the center.

The scent of aged paper and freshly dried ink hung in the air, but it wasn’t musty.

It was oddly clean, even comforting.

'It seems to be his personal study space?' She whispered to herself, her eyes dragging to a greenish ink pen on the table.

“Ink made from wood?” Mize murmured, trailing her fingers along the spine of a nearby book.

The surface was cool and slightly grainy, just enough texture to feel real. “And this fluctuation… this room’s got a hidden mechanism. You made it?”

Harapan nodded, lifting a book from one of the middle shelves and cradling it in both hands. “Yes, Mother. Though I couldn’t inherit the full breadth of your skill, I followed its framework and designed a series of minor spells based on its principles.”

"These minors spells doesn't require high comprehension, allowing for anyone to learn it, and the rest depends on them"

“So… a degraded version of your degraded version of mine,” Mize said dryly, amused. “And yet, you’ve built a full library out of it. I’ll admit, that’s impressive.”

But Harapan shook his head. “Nothing I have is mine. All of this is borrowed, granted through your divine creation. It shames me that I can’t wield the skill as it’s meant to be used. So instead, I broke it down"

"Created simpler spells, ones that others could grasp. Someday, one of them might evolve far enough to bridge the gap… to reach the original source.”

His eyes softened. “It’s a hope. A dream, maybe. But one worth building.”

He slid the book gently back into its place, the soft sound of wood meeting wood barely audible.

Mize’s eyes narrowed slightly, scanning the exposed book spines.

“Sweeping Thorns. Vine Whips. Tree Cultivation. Wooden Shield… You’ve been busy,” she said. Her tone was flat, but her gaze lingered longer than usual.

She turned, fixing him with a steadier look. “Maybe I underestimated you.”

Harapan blinked, caught mid-reach for another book.

“It seems,” Mize continued, “you might be ready for the responsibility I’m about to throw your way.”

The statement landed like a subtle weight in the room.

Harapan lowered his hand, glancing at her with silent “Does it have to do with what we just discussed, Mother?”

“It does,” Mize said, nodding her head slightly as she floated above the floorboards.

Within her mind, thread of calculation ran beneath it, already outlining the narrative she would weave.

“I suspect the recent events, the deaths, the disturbances, they’re tied to those who’ve turned their backs on humanity"

Harapan’s brows pulled slightly. “Beings who rejected humanity” he echoed.

Mize’s gaze didn’t waver. “Exactly.”

Mize flicked her wrist, and a translucent projection shimmered into existence between them, like mist catching sunlight, shifting and folding inwards, then outward again.

The shapes inside churned slowly, as though the clouds were thinking.

“These beings are like me… yet not,” her voice filled the space, and she began narrating the story.

The projection warped, morphing into a full view of a distant world.

A planet hung suspended in the void, quietly turning along its orbit, undisturbed, serene.

Then a tear in space appeared across half the globe.

From it, a hand emerged, towering, dark, and unmistakably disgusting.

“The difference lies in the path we took to reach what you call divinity.”

She tilted her head slightly, letting the next words drop with intent.

"My divinity doesn't require anything"

“I don’t need any of you.”

Harapan’s body tensed. He froze mid-breath. His mouth parted slightly, but no sound came out.

Before he could find a word, Mize cut in smoothly, her tone almost indifferent.

“The only reason I gifted you the beacon of hope, shaped you the way I did, was because, somehow, you convinced me that this world might be worth the effort.”

The image shifted again. The vast hand closed its fingers around the planet, and in one pull, it was gone, swallowed whole by that void.

Another living world erased for nothing more than hunger.

“They,” Mize continued, her voice low, eyes still fixed on the swirling vision, “are bound to their followers. They can’t exist without worship. They depend on belief, devour it, even. An addiction masked as holiness.”

“They crave more, always more. With every new follower, their reach grows. Their hunger deepens.”

Harapan took a sharp breath.

His fingers fidgeted near his chest, horror filled his complexion as he witnessed a whole world being swallowed into nothingness. “T-these beings, Mother… are they coming for this world?”

“Of course,” Mize said plainly. “To them, this world is a ripe field waiting to be harvested"

"Nothing more than a grand arena. They’ll descend, one after the other, fighting among themselves, bleeding belief dry until only one remains. Then, he will crown himself king.”

Harapan's knees nearly buckled. The floor no longer felt solid beneath him.

For the first time since receiving her blessing, since becoming something beyond human, he felt hollow.

"This is... stressful" He whispered.

How was he supposed to stand against something that devours planets?

That thrives on belief like oxygen?

And again, he began to doubt whether his dream could be achieved or not with the addition of this new variable.

However, no matter how hard he tried to wrap his head around this issue, it seemed to be... impossible.

That was until he dragged his gaze upward, meeting the smiling figure.

Then a new question clawed to the surface of his mind.

“T-then… Mother’s purpose in this world is to, fight them?”

He asked, a tinge of hope brewing in.

Mize chuckled.

Not softly. Not kindly. It was brief and dry, a sound that cut through the weight in the room.

She waved a hand, dismissively.

“I’m not that noble, dear. Don’t let the wings and glow fool you. Perhaps you’ve misunderstood what kind of ‘divinity’ I am.”

“Misunderstood?” Harapan echoed, the word landing heavier than he expected, and his face? Confused to the fullest.