A small celestial garden.
With most of the gods off enjoying the banquet, the park was quiet, save for two goddesses seated on a secluded bench.
“You were too much, sister.”
One goddess lightly tapped the other’s arm.
“I told you, I’m sorry.”
The other goddess let out an awkward laugh.
“It really was the only way.”
“You could have just told the truth.”
“If you had known the truth, the evil god’s curse would have swallowed you whole and turned you into fuel for its resurrection.”
“…Still, did you really have to make hate you?”
“If you had kept even a shred of affection for , the seal would have shattered almost imdiately. The first restriction I placed broke instantly because of that. …I never realized just how much my little sister loved .”
Tystina smirked mischievously, and Beydia’s face turned bright red.
“I—I didn’t! Y-You must have ssed up the restriction or sothing!”
“Nope. I did it properly.”
“No, you ssed up.”
“Nope.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
The petty squabble of two prideful goddesses continued.
“Haha! Hahahaha!”
Out of nowhere, Tystina burst into laughter, bringing an abrupt end to the pointless argunt.
“…What’s so funny?”
“Aah, sorry.”
Tystina wiped away a tear from laughing too hard.
“It just reminded of the past.”
“…The past?”
“Yeah… Do you rember that day, after I got promoted to the 10th squad, when I ca back from a mission feeling completely drained?”
“…I rember.”
“This felt just like that.”
That mission had been a nightmare, one that had eaten away at her sanity.
Back then, it was her little sister who had helped her escape that suffocating reality.
And now, after all this ti, they were together again—bickering just like they had back then.
It was enough to make her nostalgic.
Even if those days—except for the ti she spent with Beydia—had been a complete hell.
“…Sister.”
Beydia’s face stiffened.
Back then, she hadn’t fully understood.
But after seeing her sister’s past, she knew exactly what kind of horrors Tystina had endured.
“Why do you look like that? The evil god is dead, and we’re finally free.”
“…You’re right, sister.”
Beidos was dead.
She had ripped apart that corrupted dragon heart with her own hands, carrying the hopes and prayers of countless souls.
Even its lingering malice had been completely purified—
There was no way that nightmare would return.
“But you know what’s really amazing? You beca a goddess with the unwavering support of so many souls.”
“Well, that’s because they liked you.”
“…They liked ? Even though I was the one who prevented them from passing on?”
“Yeah. They knew everything about you.”
“…I see. Then I owe them a thank-you.”
The two goddesses sat together, talking about everything.
How they had been, how it felt to be reunited—
And, of course, the thing that had brought them back together: the Akashic Archive.
“So let get this straight. You asked the Curator to turn your story into a ga?”
“That’s right.”
“…But you erased my mories because you were afraid the evil god might resurrect?”
“Hahaha, yeah. I even put a restriction on my own mories so I wouldn’t rember I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone.”
“…Unbelievable. And here I was thinking so secret organization had made the ga… Wait, but I’ve never heard of a Constellation of Dreams before.”
“You thought the evil god made the ga, didn’t you?”
“…Yeah. Now that I think about it, that was a ridiculously stupid assumption.”
“Fufu. And here I thought you had the greatest intelligence network on the continent. You were way off.”
“H-Hey! It’s not my fault! There’s no way a single person could have made sothing like that! It’s only natural to assu a bigger group was behind it!”
“Fufu~.”
“Stop laughing at !”
Their playful banter was hardly the dignified conversation of divine beings.
It was more like two ordinary sisters catching up.
“But isn’t our Curator amazing?”
“…What?”
“If I’m going to tell you about our Curator, I need to start from the beginning…”
Tystina rummaged through her belongings.
“…Oh.”
It was as if she was about to deliver a sermon about her patron deity.
“…And that’s why the Curator is so amazing.”
“…I see.”
Hours later, Beydia’s eyes were completely glazed over.
“If you’re interested, I could introduce you to so people who truly understand the Curator’s greatness. There’s an organization called the Archive Devotees’ Association…”
“…Wow… I’m really looking forward to that…”
Her lifeless voice said otherwise.
Had her sister always been like this?
What kind of person was this Curator, to have captivated her sister like this?
Not even a Constellation, just a re Apostle.
“If only we had a little more ti.”
The two goddesses walked toward the garden’s exit.
Tystina had co all the way to the celestial gate to see Beydia off.
“I’m sorry, Beydia. It’s been so long since we last t, but… I have responsibilities as a Constellation.”
“It’s fine, I understand. I lead an organization myself, after all. I also have things I need to take care of before my divinity fully stabilizes and I beco unable to return to the mortal world.”
“When everything is over, co find again. I’ll teach you everything you need to know as a newly ascended goddess. No—just co live with . My domain has plenty of space. I’ll build you a ho.”
“…Okay, sister. I’ll co.”
Their long separation had finally ended.
Now, they weren’t just reuniting—they could live together.
That comforting thought made this brief farewell feel much easier.
Wuuuuung—
Beydia’s consciousness rapidly descended.
She was returning from the Celestial Realm to the mortal world.
Her divine essence hadn’t fully solidified yet, aning she could still manifest on Earth in a form close to an Avatar.
But she wouldn’t be able to stay in this state for long. There were things she needed to wrap up quickly.
The Burrows—The Queen of the Night’s chamber.
Beydia’s eyes fluttered open as she found herself back in her plush chair.
“I have an important announcent. Gather everyone.”
A short while later, the massive central hall of the Burrows’ headquarters was filled with agents.
Seated at the highest seat in the hall, Beydia crossed her legs, gazing down at them.
This organization—built from the remnants of the one that had once enslaved her—was hers.
Why did she recreate sothing that had once been an absolute nightmare?
If she asked herself that, the answer would probably be her sister.
The mories of her sister had helped her survive those wretched days.
And to recapture that feeling, she had built the Burrows, gathering agents under her command.
A replacent for her sister.
Siblings she raised with her own hands—like children.
But now, she had her sister back.
She didn’t need them anymore.
Should she make them her Apostles?
Or perhaps found a Church with them as its first mbers?
Beydia pondered as she looked at the agents staring at her.
“…Hm?”
She noticed sothing off about their expressions.
Usually, their gazes were filled with reverence and awe.
But today, there was sothing else—sothing… warr.
What?
Did she have sothing on her face?
She mulled over the reason.
!!!
Her once dignified face turned bright red.
These little brats…!
Instead of doing their jobs, they had been playing the ga!
Just like a parent whose deepest secrets had been exposed,
Beydia realized that all her agents knew every embarrassing detail about her and her sister’s past.
She wanted to disappear on the spot.
***
"What are you even talking about, Constellation? Without your Authority, we wouldn’t have been able to create [Akashic Archive] or use the players’ power to stop the Abyss!"
[The Dreamteller curls up, hugging her tiny legs, mumbling, ‘But I’m just a useless Constellation who can’t even properly pass on my own power…’]
“It wasn’t a problem with your Authority! Your power was perfect. That thing we fought… it was just an anomaly, sothing that could ignore divine power altogether.”
What’s with my Constellation today?
There were tis when she acted like a pouting child or simply lost energy, but today was way worse.
Such intense self-deprecation…
Was she that shaken up by the Abyss breaching Dream’s Authority?
[The Dreamteller mumbles, ‘Ji-Hye is so competent… She handled the Abyss so easily, while I… I couldn’t even think of a solution…’]
Ji-Hye?
Was she feeling insecure because of how much Ji-Hye had done?
I couldn’t deny that Ji-Hye had played a crucial role in this incident.
Even I had tried to act cool, but in the end, she was the one who resolved everything.
But that didn’t an my Constellation was useless.
"Co on, Constellation. None of that would’ve been possible without your Authority! Ji-Hye couldn’t have done anything without it. If anything, you were the biggest contributor to solving all of this!"
Without Dream’s Authority, Ji-Hye’s entire plan would have failed.
(Of course, knowing her, she probably would have found another way… But let’s not think about that.)
My Constellation suddenly popped up her head.
[‘Really?’ - she asks.]
[‘You really think so?’ - she asks.]
“…Huh?”
Before I could react, she zipped toward and clung to my leg.
[‘Then tell .’ - she says.]
[‘Who’s better—Ji-Hye or ?’ - she says.]
“…Constellation?”
She stared up at with huge, innocent eyes.
But between those adorable eyes, sothing sent chills down my spine.
[‘Choose.’ - she says.]
It felt like the wrong answer would bring about an irreversible catastrophe.
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