“Play something called Ostinato.”

The conductor of the Imperial Orchestra, hastily summoned by the Crown Prince, was taken aback by the strange request.

“Ostinato… you say?”

“Yes. An Ostinato that holds the essence of an eternal, repeating love.”

The conductor wondered if the Crown Prince had eaten something questionable that morning, but he dared not voice such thoughts.

“Forgive me, Your Highness. Ostinato is a musical technique involving the continuous repetition of a particular melody. If Your Highness has a specific tune in mind, we can craft an Ostinato from it and play it for you.”

“...Does that mean there isn’t a pre-existing melody for it?”

“That is correct, Your Highness.”

Sigh.

The conductor silently exhaled.

When they’d been summoned by the Crown Prince—a central figure in the empire’s power structure—the orchestra had eagerly hauled their instruments, anticipating an opportunity to secure more royal support. Instead, they were met with a request about Ostinato of all things.

“Just as I thought,” the conductor mused bitterly.

For those in high positions, music was little more than a pastime, a hobby meant to lend an air of sophistication.

This was especially true in recent times, with the rapid advancement of magitech and the emergence of cutting-edge forms of entertainment. The status of traditional music continued to diminish.

He was just beginning to feel the sting of disappointment, thinking this encounter would be no different, another exercise in futile hope, when—

“Then teach me.”

“...Pardon?”

The conductor questioned his own ears.

“I said, teach me music. Teach me to play Ostinato. Don’t worry—I will ensure the orchestra receives full support in return for your efforts.”

The statement was almost unbelievable.

It wasn’t unheard of for nobles to dabble in learning an instrument, but such pursuits were usually confined to mere hobbies.

Yet here stood the Crown Prince—no less than the heir to the throne—earnestly requesting to be taught and pledging unwavering support for the orchestra.

But this, as it turned out, was merely the tip of the iceberg.

“Is this how one holds the violin?”

“Ostinato… this is quite difficult.”

“Shouldn’t I, at the very least, be able to play my own Ostinato for the woman I love?”

A violin craze swept across the entire continent.

[...]

The movement grew so immense that it even reached the ears of the god of music.

***

"Would you care to dance with me, milady?"

"Of course, my Frog Prince."

In a grand ballroom filled with countless couples, men and women paired off to dance.

For their steps, a familiar melody played repeatedly, resonating throughout the hall.

The men wore their hair slicked back and donned masks, while the women styled their hair like the Saintess.

Within the ballroom, they were Ian and Kate.

As the dances concluded, the men carefully folded the candy wrappers they received from their partners and tucked them into their inner pockets, treating them as precious treasures.

This scene was being repeated across the continent.

***

Divine Realm

The Domain of Ren, the God of Sacrifice

After completing an intense training session, the goddess Ren sat cross-legged, her demeanor calm and focused.

Having begun her training anew to make up for the long, idle years lost to sloth, she was no longer the same as before.

Flash.

Her closed eyes snapped open wide.

"Who’s there?"

Her domain, a space where no one but herself should exist.

Ren grasped her sword and pointed it in a specific direction.

Shff.

From behind a pillar, a man with a familiar figure emerged.

A grizzled mercenary, rough-looking with a thick beard, stepped forward.

“As expected of you, Captain. I hid with all my might, yet you still found me. Seems like you haven’t lost your edge.”

“H-Hans...? How… how is this possible?”

Ren’s eyes trembled as she stared at him.

“Are you… really you?”

Her voice quivered as she approached him.

“Haha! Of course, it’s me! Who else but Hans, your loyal subordinate and the manliest of men?”

Even as Ren pulled at his cheeks and touched him here and there, the man laughed heartily.

“How… how can this be…”

Tears began streaming down Ren’s face.

Thud.

Ren spread her arms wide and hugged Hans tightly.

“Hans!”

“Ugh! C-Captain! This isn’t right! I’ll be killed by the others!”

Hans, blushing furiously, tried to push her away.

Even though the captain’s sweat from her recent training gave off a surprisingly pleasant scent, this was unacceptable.

If the others found out, he’d surely be beaten to death.

Above all, she was the Captain—an unreachably high tree that should never be climbed.

“What do you mean by that? Don’t tell me…”

“That’s right. The others, every one of them, have come back to life. And not just revived—they’ve returned with the vibrant bodies of gods, as Constellations!”

***

Ian Carlyuga’s Laboratory

Ian, the Constellation [Magitech Engineer], had crafted a new device to replace the one that had been destroyed.

An improved and enhanced divine condensation apparatus, refined from his previous materialization device.

This was a device designed to gather and condense the recognition and faith surrounding his beloved and transform it into reality to achieve her resurrection.

Zzzzt… Zzzzt…

Ian scribbled formulas on a massive chalkboard, filling it to the brim.

“Calculating the ratio of players who cleared the story to those who engaged only with the characters in [Akashic Archive]…”

After tirelessly refining the equations, Ian finally derived the result he was looking for and approached the lever on the device.

“Please…”

Having finished tuning the device and tested it countless times, Ian placed his hand on the lever.

Closing his eyes tightly, he summoned all his resolve and pulled.

Clunk.

Wooooooong.

As the lever was lowered, the device roared to life.

It began rapidly pulling divine energy from the heavens, gathering it with incredible force.

Within the device, magitech fused with divine power, triggering a transcendent reaction.

“!!”

Ian’s hands clenched tightly as he witnessed something utterly unlike anything produced by his previous devices.

A holy-magitech reaction—long theorized but never proven—was now unfolding before his very eyes.

At that precise moment, when divine power and magitech intersected,

The impossible became possible.

The entire continent had come to know Saintess Kate.

The concept of her existence, solidified in the minds of countless people, began to gather and condense into reality.

And then—

Boom!

“Gah!”

The device exploded, spewing thick smoke into the air.

Ian raised an arm to shield himself from the blast.

When the smoke finally cleared, the sight that greeted him was…

“Why!”

A heap of shattered fragments—pieces of the now-destroyed device.

“Why did it fail again?”

He had tested it endlessly.

This was the peak moment, the point when the entire continent’s recognition of Kate was at its strongest, thanks to the release of the new character.

If he missed this opportunity, her memory would inevitably begin to fade from their minds, making today the perfect moment.

This had to succeed. No matter what.

“Why has it failed again!”

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Ian stomped on the shattered remnants of the device.

His fury, overwhelming his rationality, filled his head with a haze of frustration.

[Destroy it.]
[Crush it all.]
[Wreck this world that refuses to yield to your will.]

Normally, Ian would have already begun gathering the fragments to repair and reactivate the device before more time was lost.

But in his current state, such thoughts were beyond him.

“Bring back my Kate!”

He raised his foot to stomp on the core of the device, intending to shatter it completely when—

Pinch.

A soft hand suddenly appeared out of nowhere, gently pinching his cheek.

“Wha—what…?”

In that instant, the enraged voices consuming Ian’s mind vanished completely.

His thoughts, which had been clouded with anger, became eerily calm.

“My frog prince… You’ve become quite angry, haven’t you?”

No. It couldn’t be.

The experiment must have failed.

Ian slowly turned his head.

The hand pinching his cheek led his gaze upward.

Standing before him, smiling, was a woman in a priestess’s robe.

“Is this a new little mischief pouch you’ve grown?”

She held Ian’s cheeks in her hands, playfully tugging at them.

The holy-magitech reaction had undoubtedly ceased.

The process hadn’t reached its critical threshold, making her resurrection impossible.

There was no way she could be here.

This had to be an illusion.

And yet…

“K-Kate…”

Ian clasped the wrists of the woman holding his cheeks.

Why could he feel pain from her pinching? Why could he feel the warmth of her skin in his hands?

“What’s wrong, Ian?”

The woman tilted her head slightly, her expression mischievous.

“How… how are you here…?”

The woman pouted, her lips twitching.

“Really? That’s the first thing you say after seeing me again?”

[The Wrathful Magitech Engineer sheds tears.]

No.

This couldn’t be real.

He had wished for it countless times.

He had imagined it endlessly.

A world where he could meet her again… where he could see her once more.

Ian pulled the woman into an embrace.

“Oh my…”

It was the only dream he had ever chased.

“I missed you… Kate.”

At last, the dream had come true.

Faith born from the illusion of virtual reality had transformed a hollow wish into reality.