The Foreigner on the Periphery

The king of Endelion suffered from chronic insomnia.

Even beings with surreal physical forms needed time for their brains to rest. The king tried to force herself to sleep, but it proved just as difficult today. The worries flooding her mind pushed the drowsiness away.

To the Endelion, this world was a sum of uncertainty and danger. They calculated the probabilities of potential disasters and accidents, constantly anxious that their plans to make the dimensional system a better place might fail.

Whenever she considered the uncertain future, the king felt an intense emotion: anxiety, an unwelcome guest that always accompanied thoughts of the days ahead. Today, too, that anxiety weighed heavily on her tentacles.

She worried whether she could get her hands on Asiph-1. She fretted over whether her kidnapped daughter would return safely, her head aching as she imagined how this variable would affect their plans.

'At this rate, I won't be able to sleep today either.'

She shifted her focus. Instead of the impending future, the king began to think about the past.

The anxiety vanished, but her thoughts of the past brought out another unwelcome companion: remorse, or perhaps regret.

'I shouldn't have dealt with Asiph-1 like that back then.'

When they arrested him, she had been ecstatic.

'He seemed like the only way to cure evil.'

Unlike some races, the Endelion did not agonize over why God stood by and allowed evil. God did not exist, but evil certainly did; wondering why something that already existed existed at all was considered the worst possible waste of time. Instead, the Endelion pondered how to eradicate it.

The Endelion's definition of evil was clear. Anything that harmed or hindered the Endelion—those with the ability and intention to make the world a more beautiful place—was evil. And Asiph-1 was considered an excellent remedy to reform the minds of the wicked.

'Until we realized we couldn't completely control him, that is.'

Left with no choice, they had tried to obliterate his soul. They failed, resulting only in fragments scattering across the universe. When they tried to implant the soul of another race into his remaining body, the body itself was destroyed.

The king bitterly regretted that choice.

'I have to get it back somehow. Asiph-1 is the key to turning the universe into a paradise.'

A subordinate's message seeped into the king's mind.

=Your Majesty, a high commissioner from the Kavite is requesting a transmission.=

"Connect it."

Hazy light coalesced to form an image. Her eyes met the Kavite's across the screen. The king spoke in a blunt tone, the protrusions on the surface of her tentacles stiffening in displeasure.

"This is unexpected. To think you would contact us first."

Even in this urgent situation—with Asif-666 having broken out of prison and the princess kidnapped—the relationship between the ancient races was poor. The incident in the Gelanco dimension was the cause.

The Committee had officially moved under the pretense of arresting Asif-666, but beneath the surface, the Endelion-Todd alliance and the Kavite were each making moves to monopolize the fragments of Asiph-1. Naturally, neither side shared information with the other.

After the operation ultimately failed and the Endelion-backed Todd forces were annihilated, both sides figured out what the other was doing. Moving behind their allies' backs only to step on each other's toes had naturally soured the atmosphere.

- Let us both set our feelings aside for a moment. We have located Asif-666.

It was information from the Mint Bureau, which the Kavite controlled.

"You found him? Where? Don't tell me you're only notifying me after you've already secretly dispatched troops there?"

- Would we really do that after seeing what happened to the Todds last time? It's clear he has recovered more of his memories and power than we expected. Therefore, we will need a force on the scale of an all-out war to retrieve him.

The Kavite wanted to monopolize the fragments of Asiph-1. Even so, the fact that they were going out of their way to contact her and share the target's location meant...

"Where is he?"

- Dimension #77-102.

The king almost burst into laughter.

As expected, the Kavite had a reason for proposing cooperation.

"It's a closed dimension."

- It is a world without a properly functioning Terminal.

They needed a way to send a large-scale fleet to a dimension where the Jump Ship guidance systems did not function.

- As always, I know you will stay holed up in your homeland. We and the Todds will handle the combat, so the Endelion must provide the technology to overcome this situation.

It was a bold attitude, as if demanding something rightfully owed to them.

It was understandable. In an all-out war, the strength of the Todds alone would be insufficient. Drawing in the Kavite was inevitable, if only for the supply of Mana Crystals. The Endelion, despite having the highest technological prowess among the three races, could not produce as many Mana Crystals as the Kavite. The difference lay in their supply of raw materials.

The king finished deliberating.

"I believe there is a way."

In the past, dragons crossed dimensions without Terminals or Jump Ships. Magic made it possible.

The simplest way to move a massive force to Dimension #77-102 was for someone to 'carry' a fleet of battleships and cross dimensions. Just like how the Princess of Endelion had escaped Earth with the escapee.

Hearing the explanation, the Kavite spoke with doubt.

- Are you serious? Even if the king commands it, no sane Endelion would agree to such a thing.

"It would be possible for an Endelion who isn't sane."

- ...?!

Was she talking about her daughter?

It made no sense. How could the kidnapped princess, who was with Asif-666, carry a battleship and cross dimensions?

"No."

The king retracted her previous statement.

"To be exact, they aren't Endelion."

They were Endelion, but not Endelion.

The Kavite understood the king's plan.

- Don't tell me...

"Yes. In our dimension, there are those whose bodies are genetically identical to an Endelion, yet they are not Endelion. There are even more of them than you think. We always prepare spares for our spares' spares. Just in case."

Sometimes, the qualification for personhood is determined not by appearance or the ability to think, but by societal recognition and acceptance. In such cases, life does not necessarily guarantee dignity.

- ...You mean the things raised as replacement bodies for the future. But will they even listen to you?

The king spoke in a dry tone.

"We just have to make them listen."

*

The secret scripture of the order, the Book of Asif, recorded this:

The man who descended from the sky appeared fundamentally different from the peasants of the wasteland. A profound nobility emanated from his actions and speech. Even though he did not explicitly forbid it, the people always worshipped him from a distance. No one approached close enough for their shadows to overlap, nor did anyone try to reach out and grab the hem of his clothes. They felt it instinctively. They knew he was a superior being who could not mingle with them. He was a being of such high status that his dignity was recognized simply by his existence.

Furthermore, his recorded words and deeds showed he was not always benevolent. While he saved people with countless miracles, he ruthlessly punished those who strayed from the righteous path. He was especially harsh toward those who broke God-given rules. The Prophet seemed to know well that people often confused fear with respect.

The bishops, having read and studied the scriptures for a long time, had already formed a transcendental image of the Prophet. They had looked up to and served the Pope who existed as an ideal in their minds.

"Uh... uh?"

And so, the priests froze.

What had the recently resurrected Prophet just said?

It was an incredibly frivolous tone for the Son of God to use.

His creator also felt utterly flabbergasted.

'What the hell went wrong?'

Minjun looked at the reconstructed body of the Prophet, at his face.

When he first created Asiph-1, he hadn't looked like that. Because the shape of his soul and ego had changed, the physical body that harmonized with them had changed as well. He had expected this much.

However, the personality anchoring him should have been the one from when his soul was originally fragmented. Just as the prisoner's ego had been pushed back after the primordial race recovered its memories. Yet, Asiph-1 felt like the exact opposite.

The resurrected son muttered, as if experiencing a wave of fresh emotion.

"So this is what a living body feels like. It feels familiar, yet new... It's complicated."

He took a deep breath, then moved around while observing every part of his body. It was a light, frivolous set of movements devoid of any majesty. Licking the back of his arm to taste it and inspecting every nook and cranny bordered on disgraceful.

The primordial race speculated on what had happened inside. A fusion of egos that had lasted three days. Could the wrong side have seized control instead of the past personality? How?

Actions that cemented that hypothesis followed. The Prophet tilted his head as he looked at the Holy Sword in his hand. It was his old dwelling, from which his soul had already departed. He wiggled the fingers gripping it.

"Man, the grip on this isn't that great."

The next moment, Minjun and the priests saw it: Asiph-1's soul stretching out like taffy.

His soul expanded in size and reached toward his hand, simultaneously draping over his human body and the handle of the dagger.

Assuming the sword was also a type of body, it looked as though a single soul were coexisting in two physical forms.

Shing!

The Holy Sword changed shape in an instant. Only then did Asiph-1 flash a satisfied smile, and the soul that had spanned the two bodies returned fully to the human side.

Looking at the object in his hand, Minjun felt the urge to sigh.

"Yeah! This is it. Now it fits perfectly in my hand."

The Holy Sword had transformed into the single-handled Frying Pan that Minjun had originally found. Asiph-1 swung it vigorously. Whoosh! Whoosh! The fierce sound of cutting wind rang out. The corners of the Prophet's mouth stretched to his ears. He spoke triumphantly.

"It isn't as destructive as the Orichalcum one made by Mother, but this is a pretty useful weapon in its own right!"

Del gaped, unable to decide what emotion she should be feeling.

"Moth... er?"

The Prophet replied cheerfully. His eyes sparkled.

"Father gave me a spirit, and Mother gave me a body. It differs from the traditional method of reproduction, but I feel good because this unconventional procedure seems to complete my individuality, uniqueness, and identity! Doesn't art inherently require a touch of the unconventional? That is, if you consider 'existence' to be art as well. Ah, of course, the copyright is definitely co-owned by the two of you. However, there are some physical inadequacies. This appearance leans way too heavily toward Father's side. There isn't a single trait that resembles Mother. This is unfair. Hmm, this is a dilemma. Should I stick some tentacles on my back?"

The primordial race snapped in annoyance.

"Don't do that."

A Pope swinging a Frying Pan with a bundle of tentacles attached to his back.

It was better than a Pope resurrected as a Frying Pan, but it would still be difficult for the congregation to accept.

The Pope was a crucial figure for dominating intelligent beings through religion in the future. Situations like this, where God made contact with mortals, would occur less frequently as time went on, before eventually disappearing altogether. Instead, the Pope, granted full authority, would rule directly. The words and actions of someone meant to be served by all shouldn't be so flippant.

Furthermore, the situation the primordial race had worried about was already visible among the priests.

Signs that their blind worship was wavering.

"No... what in the world."

The Acting Pope and the other priests were dumbfounded after hearing their conversation in its entirety. Some of their faces were filled with undisguisable suspicion.

'This won't do. I need to handle this.'

The creator gave an instruction to Asiph-1.

"Ah, that much is a piece of cake."

He turned his head to follow the order. The Frying Pan in his hand shifted back into the shape of the Holy Sword. All expression vanished from the Prophet's face. Asiph-1 spoke to the confused priests, using both his voice and telepathic waves simultaneously. His eyes shone coldly.

="Forget."=

Instantly, the priests' faces froze in a daze. They stood exactly as they were, their breathing halted.

A chilling silence descended upon the cathedral.

A moment later.

"...Ah!"

They felt a clear, crisp energy seep into their minds. The confusion from just moments ago was nowhere to be found. They couldn't even remember feeling such an emotion.

The bishops had completely forgotten the frivolous words the Pope had used. They also forgot the sight of him turning the Holy Sword into a Frying Pan and swinging it around. A few minutes' worth of memories had been cleanly excised.

Their minds had returned to the exact moment the Prophet was resurrected.

"Oh, the Pope, the Pope has returned!"

They fell to their knees, reciting hymns. They had completely forgotten that they had shown the exact same reaction a few minutes prior.

Avoiding the gazes of those who had bowed their heads, Asiph-1 shrugged. Just like a child hoping for his parents' praise.

The primordial race felt a psychological headache, but decided to be satisfied for now. Somehow, it seemed they would be able to execute things as planned. He decided to put off the psychological analysis of Asiph-1 for later and focus on the task at hand.

God gave instructions in an inaudible voice, and the Pope relayed that revelation to the priests.

Just as he had been instructed, his tone was perfectly corrected.

"Child who has borne the heavy stone across generations."

"Ah...!"

It was obvious who he was referring to.

The Acting Pope, having been called, slowly raised his head. Clear tears flowed from his eyes, and drops of scarlet blood trickled down his forehead.

"Your toil is worthy of praise, glory, and honor. Just as I cherish you, God takes delight in you, and so I shall now take back the crown I entrusted to you. Return your duties of serving on behalf of all people; return that throne. Let everyone see this and know that I have returned from death. Let all people bear witness to my resurrection. I shall become the High Priest once more and establish an immortal kingdom to praise God for all eternity."

It was a declaration that the returned Pope would personally administer Baptism to the Acting Pope, who had not yet received it.

Now it was time to perform the ritual where Asiph-1 would officially take back command and control of the order. Three days after the Cathedral of Resurrection had radiated light and soul particles had drifted down, there was a need for a ceremony to proclaim that the Son of God had returned. It was an order to prepare so that everyone could see him.

The priests joyfully accepted the command.

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