Edel arrived on Earth through the breach between dimensions.

Though she already knew there were countless gods and just as many diverse worlds, when she first laid eyes on Earth, she couldn't help but be amazed.

This world was entirely different from Silia, the world she had created.

It wasn’t that she felt inferior, just surprised at how different things could be.

With the help of Earth's god, Edel quickly absorbed the knowledge of Earth's technologies and systems.

What would take humans centuries or millennia, Edel accomplished in a relatively short time.

But once she thought she had learned enough, Edel came to a realization:

"This is going to be difficult."

Sure, Earth’s weapons were powerful. But whether they would be effective against the Dimensional Beasts was another matter entirely.

Even if they had bombs capable of turning entire regions into firestorms, they couldn’t exactly drop those on cities filled with people.

Even if they managed to do it once or twice, repeating such actions every time a Dimensional Beast appeared would lead to humanity's extinction before the Beasts were wiped out.

What’s the point of saving the world if the methods used to do so destroy it in the process?

And even aside from that, Earth’s weapons were insufficient to fundamentally prevent the Dimensional Beasts' invasion.

So, what could be done?

As Edel pondered this, something caught her eye.

Games.

Specifically, virtual reality games that created entire worlds for people to immerse themselves in.

In that moment, it was as if lightning struck her mind.

"I’ll lower the dimension and turn it into a game. Let the humans of Earth kill the Dimensional Beasts."

By making players kill the Dimensional Beasts, they could weaken their power.

Of course, the ones the players could kill would only be the weakest of the weak—akin to minnows or guppies. But even that would buy her some time.

With Earth's god's approval, Edel immediately got to work.

First, she used the Dimensional Beasts’ power to create isolated virtual dimensions—dubbed "pseudo-dimensions"—completely separated from the Silia world.

Events in these pseudo-dimensions had no effect on the original world.

Even if a powerful monster was killed or one of Silia's inhabitants died, once the pseudo-dimension collapsed, it was as though nothing had ever happened.

Though they appeared to move and act like real creatures, they were merely shadows, soulless imitations mimicking the behavior of the originals.

This system became known as the "Instance Dungeon."

Pseudo-dimensions were literally virtual dimensions.

However, for the players to still find meaning and enjoyment, items and experiences gained from within would persist even after the dungeon was gone.

The concept of "channels," which split players into smaller groups, was also a product of dimensional separation.

Edel had two main reasons for creating channels.

One was to prevent overcrowding from ruining players' enjoyment and causing them to quit.

The other was to deal a greater blow to the Dimensional Beasts.

While events in the pseudo-dimensions couldn’t normally affect the original dimension, the Dimensional Beasts were unique creatures—highly attuned to dimensions. So even in a pseudo-dimension, damage dealt to them still affected their true forms.

Instance dungeons, channels, leveling, professions—all the systems required for a game.

After finishing the creation of these systems, Edel sighed as she reviewed her work.

"...I doubt this will defeat the Dimensional Beasts."

She didn’t believe this would rid the world of the Dimensional Beasts entirely.

She simply hoped it would buy enough time.

Enough time for the sword she had her eye on to be fully forged.

 

"...That’s how it all came about," Edel concluded her lengthy story.

Not once had she stopped for a drink of water, despite speaking for so long.

"You really are a god, huh?" I remarked.

"...I appreciate the acknowledgment, but don’t you think your focus is a little off?"

Edel, looking at me with a mix of exasperation and amusement, then spoke in a more somber tone.

"It’s not that I don’t care about the lives of the children I’ve created. Of course, I do. That’s why I put multiple safety measures in place... But I couldn’t fully prevent losses."

"At the end of the day, to them, it’s just a game."

"Still, if I hadn’t done this, far more lives would’ve been lost."

More lives than those lost from the accidents caused by Earth's players.

"Wasn’t there any other way? Like giving players temporary bodies like the Apostles, or restricting them to pseudo-dimensions only?"

"Do you think I didn’t consider that?"

Edel sounded almost defensive, as though she had gone through this line of thinking countless times already.

"With things as dire as they were, this was the best solution."

Even though she created the pseudo-dimensions, there was one soul she couldn’t copy into them.

Because that soul had crossed dimensions and survived the interdimensional vortex, it had built up a resistance to most dimensional pressures, making it impossible to replicate.

It wasn’t hard to guess whose soul that was.

I nodded at her unspoken question.

I wasn’t that much of an idiot, after all.

"So, that means this dimension I’m in is the original?"

"Correct."

"Got it. And the reason I can tell the Apostles feel strange is because of my soul?"

"That’s right. Of course, the level of skill you’ve reached plays a part, but even that wouldn’t have been possible without the uniqueness of your soul. Still, I was surprised your soul was strong enough to break through the filter entirely."

"Filter, huh..."

I had thought it strange that no one ever reacted to Da-eun’s mutterings.

It wasn’t that they weren’t reacting. They couldn’t react.

They didn’t even realize she was speaking, let alone hear her.

"So, can I remove the filter by advancing my skills further?"

"You can’t remove it completely, but you can reduce its effects. Those at your level should already be feeling some unease."

At my level.

Several faces flashed through my mind.

One face, in particular, lingered longer than the others.

"..."

I grimaced.

Suddenly irritated, I changed the subject to rid myself of the unwelcome thoughts.

"So, if we don’t stop the Dimensional Beasts, Earth is at risk, right?"

"Why? Did hearing that the people you care about are in danger make you more motivated?"

"...It’s not like that."

We had no choice but to stop them; that’s all it was.

Just like Edel had been making excuses earlier, I now found myself muttering defensively.

"You sure didn’t seem to care about dying earlier."

"...Shut up."

When I scowled at her, Edel just laughed and, in a teasing tone, began to say:

"‘You promised not to leave—’"

"...?!"

In an instant, I lunged at Edel, clamping a hand over her mouth.

Through my small fingers, I could see her lips curl into a smile.

"H-how do you know about that?!"

"What do you mean, ‘how’?!"

"How could you know about that?!"

"Oh, that?"

Edel shrugged, as if it were no big deal.

While I was inwardly panicking, she remained perfectly calm.

"Even though my powers are weakened, I can still see everything that happens within this Holy Kingdom. This is my home ground, after all. Don’t you think I should at least be able to do that?"

"...”

"Aw, are you embarrassed? Heh... Don’t worry, it was such a touching moment that I teared up a little too!"

"...Forget it."

"What? What did you say?"

"I said forget it!!"

...Why did she have to watch that?

I grabbed Edel by the shoulders and shook her violently.

But no matter how much I shook her, she just went limp and laughed, completely unfazed by my frustration.

 

The moonlight gently illuminated the scene, and the small girl standing before me.

Normally, Da-eun would have been entranced by such a dreamy sight.

But not tonight.

She knew this was a crucial moment—one that would decide the fate of her relationship with Kana.

Da-eun looked at Kana.

Kana looked back at Da-eun.

And in the seemingly endless silence, Kana finally opened her mouth.

"...My dad was my everything."

Her body had grown smaller, her gender had changed, and she found herself in a world she had never seen before. Everything was unfamiliar to young Kana.

But she had no time to adapt slowly.

Her parents didn’t see her as their child—they saw her as a tool to make money. Naturally, she received none of the love or care that a child should.

And after her parents died, nothing improved.

Sure, there was no one left to exploit her. But that didn’t change the fact that she had to worry about surviving each day.

If she showed discomfort when beaten, the violence would only intensify.

Even if she felt joy, expressing it could bring wolves to her door.

In such circumstances, it was only natural for Kana to harden emotionally.

To survive, she learned to suppress her feelings.

She buried the confusion caused by her changed body, gender, and the unfamiliar world deep within her heart.

And then, someone extended a hand to her.

Words of warmth she had never heard before, and a sense of warmth she had never felt.

That must have been a great comfort to the small girl.

"I knew my dad wasn’t in good health."

She had known, but she had still hoped.

That, by some miracle, he would recover and they would live together for a long time.

But her hope was cruelly shattered.

Her father, Garid, grew weaker by the day until he finally passed away.

The small bird was left alone, without a nest to return to.

"...I have nothing left."

After all, she was an anomaly—a foreign substance.

The more she saw how different she was from everyone around her, the more she realized she didn’t truly belong in this world.

If that was the case, she’d rather sever all ties.

She would live out her days by Garid’s grave, leaving no regrets behind.

"...That’s what I thought."

So why do you keep approaching me?

A single tear fell from the girl’s eye.

Her face was expressionless, devoid of any movement. But somehow, that made her look even more sorrowful.

As she listened silently to Kana’s words, Da-eun reached into her pocket.

From it, she pulled a single flower.

"...?"

Approaching Kana, Da-eun gently placed the flower in her hair.

Kana, still crying silently, looked up at Da-eun in confusion.

Da-eun smiled at her.

"Yep, it suits you perfectly."

Such a pretty girl, but she never bothers to dress up. What a waste for the whole world.

Nodding in satisfaction, Da-eun said:

"You asked why I approached you, right?"

The answer was simple.

She liked Kana and wanted to be close to her.

She wanted to take care of her like a younger sister.

But more than that—

"It’s because you wanted me to."

"...I wanted you to?"

"Yes."

The person standing in front of Da-eun wasn’t the Empire’s greatest enemy, or the swordswoman capable of cutting down dozens of knights in a single strike, or the ultimate raid boss.

She was just a lost child who didn’t even understand her own feelings.