“Bweeeng!”
“Bring Orpheus oppa back to life!”
“Oh, oh, hyung!!”
“Ugh, Abung is crying because it’s so sad!”

I monitored the community’s reactions after players cleared the story.

It seemed my intentions had worked. Despite being a villain, the players empathized with Orpheus.

The Constellation [Wrathful Magitech Engineer], true name Ian Carlyuga.

In reality, he had been childhood friends with Saintess Cartecia when she was still Kate.

However, the conflict between their families drove them apart, and due to the magitech engineer’s mistakes, Kate lost her life.

Driven by a singular obsession to save her, the magitech engineer devoted himself to his craft, eventually transcending mortality and ascending to godhood.

The execution event, the rampage of the magitech engineer’s father, and Orpheus’s atrocities were fictional elements I added to make the story more dramatic.

Unlike [Sacrifice Overcoming Indolence], I didn’t have to faithfully recreate historical events, so I took liberties with the narrative.

As a result, players were able to fully immerse themselves in Orpheus’s tragic tale.

Of course, not everyone felt the same way.

There were a few who didn’t enjoy the story and criticized it harshly.

“But isn’t he ultimately just a villain who killed countless people? Good riddance, I say.”
“This isn’t right. It could instill the wrong idea that you can do anything for someone you love.”
“Regardless of the process, isn’t this just glorifying his evil deeds because he saved Kate in the end?”

Perhaps because I’d set Orpheus up as a villain to deliver a shock, many hated him for the atrocities he committed.

And they weren’t wrong.

Orpheus truly was a villain who didn’t hesitate to sacrifice others for Kate’s sake.

Even so, there was a reason I decided to make the Constellation [Wrathful Magitech Engineer] the villain in this story.

Shock and impact are more effective when delivered through a villain rather than a hero.

Just as a bad guy sacrificing himself once at the end leaves a stronger impression than a good guy sacrificing himself a hundred times, it’s more memorable to have a villain, who’s been at odds with everyone throughout the story, complete their redemption through a final act of sacrifice.

In fact, players’ resentment toward Orpheus, after being tormented by him throughout Act 1, made his story in the mental world even more impactful.

“Glorifying villains and their misdeeds, huh…”

I hadn’t considered that.

Given the nature of a morally ambiguous story, it was a tricky issue to address.

You can’t please everyone.

Some will naturally feel uncomfortable with a story where the villain takes center stage.

That’s to be expected.

It’s criticism I have to accept and bear as the one who chose to depict Orpheus as a villain.

But from that criticism, I could pave the way to an even better story next time.

“Not even that sad. What’s all the fuss about?”
“I found it boring. Why do I have to watch some villain’s backstory?”
“Am I playing a game or watching a movie?”
“Is this [Akashic Archive] or [Orpheus Archive]?”

Others found the villain-centric narrative tedious.

I could empathize with their feelings to some extent.

Players are supposed to resonate with the game’s protagonist, the Curator-in-Training.

But in this first act, Orpheus’s presence far overshadowed the Curator-in-Training.

Particularly during the mental world sequences and the boss fight with forced defeat events, some players likely felt more like they were watching a cutscene than actively playing a game.

“I overlooked this part.”

I jotted down notes in my planner about increasing the protagonist’s narrative focus.

Players would feel more satisfied if they could utilize the characters they’d chosen and the Abyssal Essences they’d collected. This aspect had been lacking.

I had focused too much on the magitech engineer’s lover.

Additionally, I noted complaints about the chaotic background explanations in the early stages of the game and the introduction of terms that made the story harder to understand.

“The next story will be different.”

Today’s issues will not be repeated tomorrow.

My game’s narrative will continue to evolve with every moment.

The very next day,

I launched a new pickup character.

Concurrent users surpassed 300,000, and the revenue graph broke through its peak.

I couldn’t stop the smile spreading across my face.

[Dreamteller flails her tiny arms in joy.]

“Tell me what you’d like to eat. I’ll have it brought to you right away.”

I’d built a shrine for the Constellation near the academy.

Though she’d instructed me to keep it modest, I could still afford to deliver her a feast using the game’s revenue.

[Saintess Kate]

Even though the pickup for [Knight Ren] hadn’t ended, I’d created this new character to fulfill the magitech engineer’s wish of engraving her image into the minds of the players.

As much as I wanted to reintroduce Orpheus, who had been the protagonist of the narrative, I held back. It felt too soon to bring back a villain who had already died.

“I’ll save him as a trump card for later.”

I planned to use him as a calming measure if I ever caused an uproar with my game operations.

“Is this a character reserved for server closure events…?”
“Sorry, but I got her in a single pull at the start…”
“I was pulling for Ren, but I got this Saintess? Is she good?”

The players were in a celebratory mood with the new character, [Saintess Kate].

This should fulfill the promise.

The magitech engineer wanted his lover, Saintess Kate, to be remembered across the continent.

Whether his goal was to resurrect her through this recognition, I couldn’t say, but the narrative objective was certainly achieved.

“Is this where we take off?”
“Continuing the Ostinato to summon the Saintess!”
“I’ve only tried ten times, but it’s exhausting… How did Orpheus manage it?”

Reset marathons, abbreviated as “resemara.”

The act of endlessly repeating until you pull the character you want.

In this world, where even primitive games barely existed, the concept of gacha was unheard of.

But suddenly, players were deleting accounts and starting over until they got their desired characters.

The term for it? Derived from Orpheus’s narrative, it was called [Ostinato].

Players repeated resets like Orpheus’s countless regressions until they obtained their beloved characters.

I wanted to clamp down on it since it was essentially lost revenue, but to block their Ostinato would mean outright denying the narrative of Orpheus.

Ruining the story I’d painstakingly created?

Unthinkable.

[Dreamteller tilts her head, wondering if it’s really that big of a deal.]

The Constellation whispered to me as I agonized over the decision.

For now, I decided to allow their behavior.

At least for those doing resets under their own names.

“Now left alone, the Saintess is caressed by a blonde, tanned dark elf...?”
“Ugh, get out of here, Apheraio.”

“Orpheus seemed quite proper. Any erotic illustrations?”
“Orpheus is a man.”
“...I’m aware.”
“???”

“The chemistry between Orpheus and the Curator is real. TT_TT”
“Did you see the love in the Curator’s gaze when he glared at Orpheus? TT_TT So heartbreaking.”

“….”

The community’s mix of bizarre desires and interpretations was far beyond what I’d anticipated.

Yet, many still shed tears over the story of the Saintess and Orpheus.

It wasn’t just among the young; even older couples had started role-playing as Ian and Kate. It seemed the Earth-born narrative resonated deeply.

“I hope things go well for the magitech engineer too.”

The reason the magitech engineer helped me create this game was to save Kate.

Now, with the entire continent moved by their love story, it would be a tragedy if reality failed him.

I hoped their tale wouldn’t end as just a dream.

That the tragic love left unfulfilled in the game would reach a happy ending in reality.

***

In a secluded corner of the divine realm…

[Hello? What’s your name?]
[Let’s play again like we did today.]
[You’re like a frog, so cute.]
[I am a Saintess, someone who protects people and guides them down the right path.]
[I’m sorry, Ian.]
[Goodbye… my frog prince.]

A divine power, born from the collective recognition of countless beings, began to coalesce.

The faith, the belief, came together, shaping into reality through sheer force of will.

It was a resurrection beyond the impossible, for the soul itself had been erased, utterly destroyed, unable to return unless time itself was reversed.

And yet, that unwavering faith had made it manifest.

Bwooang.

From within the swirling energy, a woman opened her eyes—a being newly born of divinity.