Rise of the OtherGod Apostle: Not a Cult Leader, but a Serf?!

#116Reader Mode

#116

“Athanas?”

“Please just… give me a moment. Let me stay like this.”

“What?”

Before I could react, Athanas pulled me into a tight embrace.

I… I can’t breathe.

His heart pounded wildly against my chest, like he’d sprinted all the way here. But then, slowly, it began to steady, each beat calming as if settling after a storm. His voice, barely a whisper, reached my ear.

“Thank goodness.”

For what? What is he talking about?

I couldn’t make sense of his actions. Athanas never acted like this. Why now?

…Well, at least he isn’t gouging out my eye this time.

Dreams are weird like that—full of fragments, random moments that make no sense. Maybe I was dreaming about him because I’d been thinking about him so much lately. Yeah, that must be it. This deep sense of relief wasn’t coming from him… it was me.

Athanas…

That’s why he was here. In this dream.

But what did I really want from him? What was I searching for?

…Did I just want to feel safe? Secure?

Hesitantly, I raised my arms and wrapped them around his back, returning the hug.

It was warm.

Not just his body against mine, but something deeper, something that felt… comforting. It was like this knot I didn’t even know I had inside me, finally loosened.

Relief spread through me, soft and full, like warm bread straight from the oven. Every other thought—fear, worry—sank beneath it, distant and quiet.

Is this what it feels like to receive the blessing of comfort?

I’ve been carrying so much stress for so long. Maybe my mind’s trying to save me. Telling me, ‘Stop. Slow down. If you keep pushing like this, you’re going to break!’ And so, it gives me this… this dream, this moment of peace to keep me from falling apart.

Dreams have a way of showing you what you really want, don’t they? Sometimes too clearly that it’s embarrassing.

A dream where Athanas just holds me without asking for anything in return…

It feels so childish. Like a wish I should have outgrown by now.

I hope he doesn’t know—can’t sense—how much I need this. How much I want him to say it’s okay. That everything will be okay now.

I hope he won’t hate me. Won’t get angry when he finds out the choices I made.

I hope he doesn’t feel betrayed when he learns my secret…

Maybe this is what I truly want, manifesting in the only way I can accept.

I rested my head against Athanas’ shoulder.

In his arms, I could feel desperation, joy, relief, and something close to affection. But I knew, deep down, these weren’t feelings Athanas would ever have for me. This had to be a dream.

It feels like the kind of hug you’d give after finding a lost puppy, days into a frantic search.

And maybe that’s why, looking back, my fingers always went cold when I thought of him. Not because I feared Athanas…

“…I need to go now,” he whispered.

Is this his way of telling me to wake up? To let go of this dream?

I tightened my grip on him, refusing to let go. “Stay.”

“…Fabio, I shouldn’t be here.”

“Why not?”

“If I stay, it’ll only confuse you more.”

I laughed softly. What a considerate dream, warning me not to confuse it with reality.

But there’s no need for that.

“I already know this is a dream. I knew the second you appeared.”

“…Why do you think that?”

“As soon as I wanted to see you, you were suddenly there, standing at the door.”

“…You wanted to see me?”

The unconscious mind doesn’t know the difference between reality and imagination. Even false comfort in a dream can feel just as real.

When I wake up, the emptiness will probably settle in. But when that moment comes…

…I’ll just have to find some willow bark to chew on, since there’ll be nothing else I can do.

They say loneliness can feel like physical pain. I read somewhere that painkillers can dull both.

When I wake up, I’ll look for some willow bark—the raw material for aspirin—and make my own primitive painkiller.

Not for the loneliness. But for the actual pain I’ll have to endure without the blessing of pain relief.

And maybe I should figure out how to make anesthetics, too.

Because I never want to live through another surgery, medieval-style, fully conscious again.

“I thought… you were afraid of me.”

“If I were afraid of you, I’d be avoiding you. I’d be keeping my distance.”

If I stayed away, there’d be no risk. No slip-ups. Athanas could lose trust in me, and it wouldn’t matter.

If there was nothing between us to begin with…

“Then why…?”

“Athanas, I’m afraid of losing you.”

“……”

“I’m scared you’ll be disappointed in me. That you’ll get angry. That you’ll leave.”

That’s why I feel sick every time I think about him.

Because I have so much to feel guilty about.

The truth is, it wasn’t Athanas himself I feared…

…But why does he suddenly feel so heavy?

“Athanas?” I whispered, but there was no response. Just the steady rhythm of his breathing.

Did this bastard just pass out on me?

I took a step back, still holding him, and his body slumped toward me, completely limp. The full weight of his unconscious body pressed down on me, almost knocking me over.

Seriously?

He fell asleep? In someone else’s room?

…Unbelievable.

Even in a dream?

Athanas memes are one thing, but falling asleep like he’s got narcolepsy? That’s a whole new level of out-of-character.

Normally when Athanas sleeps, it’s like he’s only resting his eyes, but staying alert—ready to spring into action and draw his sword at any moment. I’ve never seen him drop his guard like this. Not even in the game…

…But this has to be a dream, right? My mind must be imagining all of this.

Was I really that shaken by the moment Athanas collapsed from memory loss after the encounter with Oblivion?

Now that I think about it, that did happen today, didn’t it?

Still, there’s no need to replay that scene in my dream…

I dragged him onto the bed, laying him diagonally across it, and sighed.

What kind of dream is this?

If you’re going to comfort me, at least see it through to the end.

But no, this is how it ends?

…Even in a dream, you should at least take off your shoes before passing out.

As a Korean, I couldn’t stand the sight of shoes on the bed. With another sigh, I knelt down and tugged off Athanas’ boots.

And his socks, too.

But now his cloak was bothering me.

Should I take that off as well?

It’d be easier to undo the knot at his neck if I got on the bed, given how he was sprawled out across it. Athanas, deeply asleep, didn’t move an inch as I carefully untied his cloak and slid it off.

Honestly, he wouldn’t even notice if I robbed him blind.

After I tucked a pillow under his head, I quietly studied his face. He looked completely worn out, like he was carrying the weight of a thousand sleepless nights. If I touched him, it felt like exhaustion itself would pour out of him.

…Why does he look so tired?

Shouldn’t I be the one collapsing after everything I’ve been through? After all the horrors, the running, and finally… realizing I’m safe?

I’m the one who went into the basement of the main building and dealt with all kinds of trouble.

But if this is my dream, then Athanas is just part of my subconscious, right?

…Except, am I really sure this is a dream?

It suddenly hit me that I hadn’t actually checked.

I bent my right index finger backward, a little habit I’d developed for dream-checking. In a dream, my finger would bend easily, touching the back of my hand…

…It didn’t.

“…….”

My mind blanked for a second.

Does that mean…

…This is real?

Athanas actually showed up, hugged me, and then… fell asleep?

Did that seriously happen?

If this isn’t a dream, why did he come here?

Sure, there could be plenty of reasons. Maybe he had something urgent to tell me. Maybe he came to check on the reliquary, since its signal hadn’t moved in a while.

But no, this bastard came in, hugged me, and then passed out.

What possible reason could there be for showing up in the middle of the night just to hug me?

…I’ll worry about that later.

If this is reality, there’s a more pressing issue to worry about.

Did I really say, “I’m scared of losing you,” and all that… emotional stuff to Athanas?

“……..”

…Isn’t it a little premature to assume this isn’t a dream just because of a finger test?

There are other ways to check.

In dreams, clocks always act weird, jumping time or shifting numbers, especially digital ones. But of course, there wasn’t a clock like that here.

Maybe I could open and close a door. If the layout changes, that’s a sure sign I’m dreaming.

…Should I step outside for a minute? If I come back and Athanas is gone, then it’s obviously a dream.

Yeah, some fresh air might clear my head.

Just as I started to move, Athanas grabbed my arm.

“…Athanas?”

I glanced down at him, wondering if he was awake. But instead of responding, he yanked me into a tight embrace, his chest solid under mine as I suddenly found myself lying flat on top of him.

…What the?

I tried to pull away, but with my pathetic 30 strength and 25 endurance stats, it was useless.

“Athanas? If you can hear me, let me go.”

Silence. No movement. He was definitely still asleep.

Does he seriously have a habit of grabbing things in his sleep?

Now that I think about it, this isn’t the first time. Last time, I freaked out, thinking it was some chokehold attack skill.

He’s like a human Venus flytrap.

Honestly, this would be a pretty effective way to catch a thief going for his pockets.

But that also means I’m stuck here until he decides to wake up. And knowing him, he’s probably going to sleep like the dead. Especially when he’s this worn out…

…I could hear his heartbeat, slow and steady under my ear. The rhythmic thump made me drowsy, pulling me closer to sleep whether this was a dream or not.

Today was too much.

If this is real, I’ll figure it out when I wake up. And if it’s a dream? Well, I’ll just keep dreaming. Doesn’t really matter.

…If Athanas is still here when I wake up, then I’ll know it’s real.

With that final thought, my eyes drifted shut. Sleep claimed me almost instantly.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

When I woke up, Athanas was gone.

So it really was just a dream, after all.

I sat up, my hand instinctively reaching for the reliquary. There it was, tucked under my pillow, exactly where I’d hidden it. I must’ve made it back to my room, checked it was still safe, and passed out here.

I wanted to lie back down and sort through the mess of thoughts swirling in my head, but there wasn’t time for that. I had to meet Andrea before 4 a.m.

I really should’ve told him earlier that I wouldn’t be able to make it….

Even as I groaned inwardly, my body moved on autopilot, getting ready to head out. The routine was so ingrained it took over, even though every part of me wanted to resist.

I really don’t want to go.

But skipping out without a word wasn’t an option. After all the whining I’d done about how tough it is being a double agent, and still claiming I’d see it through, imagine not showing up the next day? Andrea would lose it.

And knowing him, the next time I woke up, it might be at the Distorted One’s Basecamp.

No, I had to meet him. Even if I was too exhausted for doctrine studies, I could at least explain the situation. Maybe I could even reschedule for a more reasonable time. There was no reason for it to be at this ungodly hour.

Why not do it after volunteering at the orphanage? It’d save me from the annoying back-and-forth…

The cold dawn air smacked me in the face the second I stepped outside, and the overwhelming urge to crawl right back into bed almost won.

Why am I even still doing these studies?

I felt like I’d gained enough favor. Volunteering at the orphanage should be more than enough to keep up appearances and get updates on Adelaide…

Yeah, I’ll just tell Andrea I’m done with the doctrine studies altogether.

The thought made my steps a little lighter.

But the second I opened the door to the study, Andrea greeted me with a broad smile.

“Fabio! I have good news!”

Damn.

I’d been planning to speak first, but now it felt awkward to quit right after hearing about ‘good news.’ What could possibly be so great?

Is it about Adelaide?

“The Prophet has requested to see you personally!”

…Who?

The Prophet?

That sounded ominous. Anyone going by “the Prophet” among the Distorted One’s followers had to be bad news.

…Could it be a player?

“Perhaps the Prophet will bless you with the sight to behold the true truth!” Andrea clasped both my hands tightly, his usually stern face glowing with joy.

“Ah, I was so worried about your salvation… I’m just so relieved!”

Relieved, my ass!