The outer edge of the world was bleak and lifeless. It was not the other side of a mirror, nor the heart of a ripple. It was merely a place beyond the world—a world that no longer existed. No life could exist there. Only a still lake remained, where, now and then, the faint echoes of a wandering spirit would glide across the surface.0

— … Will you allow it to remain as it is, O Lord?0

From the depths of the lake, a follower of the Altar raised his voice.0

“It is well. There is no need to trouble your heart,” God replied, His eyes steady upon the water, the line of His rod swaying in quiet stillness.0

Whether each step moved forward or fell back, all paths would reveal themselves as they were meant to. In the end, the outcome would follow only as God willed. Nothing had ever escaped His foresight, and nothing had been left unseen. This—everything—was merely part of the process.0

— Yes, O Lord. Through this trial, the strength for Your descent has surely been regained.0

At the sound of the follower’s call, God paused, and for a fleeting moment, remembered someone from long ago. A child’s voice came back to Him—one who had once said that genuinely kind people never call themselves kind. It was such a simple truth. 0

However, in all the time He had carried the title of God without question, He had overlooked it. The child had claimed that anyone who names themselves God could not be authentically God. Because those who are would never need to say it.0

“Indeed, the prophecy shall come to pass.” 0

Just as the child had said, he was nothing more than a relic of the Holy Era—one among innumerable followers who once bowed before a true God.0

— Yes, O Lord. The faith of the Altar remains ever unshaken before You.0

But in this age, there was no God. The One who had once listened to the voices of His followers, who had watched over their lives and mourned their deaths—that God was no more.0

“I have seen your faith.”0

God was dead. It was the followers...0