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

#115Reader Mode

#115

“…What exactly are you planning to do with that?” I asked, trying to keep the apprehension out of my voice.

“Curious, are we?”

“Not really…”

Actually, not at all. I really, really didn’t want to know.

But unfortunately, I’m stuck in the Dark Realm.

A place where a single drop of blood or even a stray hair could be used as a medium and weaponized. So yeah, you can imagine what someone might do with an entire arm.

Leaving my severed arm in the hands of some mad scientist felt like the worst decision ever. I could already picture waking up with phantom pain shooting through my left arm… or something even worse.

“Concerned,” I said, correcting him. “It’s more concern than curiosity.”

“You don’t need to worry.” The Research Director’s voice was smooth, like polished glass. His gaze flicked down to my arm as he slowly laced his fingers with the fingers on my severed hand and smiled brightly. “I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

The sight made my face involuntarily scrunch up.

Shit, that’s seriously creepy.

Why was he holding my arm like it was some sort of prized possession?

If he’s planning to experiment on it, shouldn’t he be storing it properly or something? You know, like basic lab procedure to avoid contamination?

Honestly, what kind of reliable data could he get from handling it so carelessly?

At this point, he should drop the “scientist” part of “mad scientist.” The guy was just plain mad.

“…That arm was mine. Don’t I get a say in what happens to it? I’d like it to be disposed of properly.”

“What are you talking about? It’s mine now,” the Research Director replied, his grip tightening like someone might actually try to snatch it from him.

“And how, exactly, did it become yours?”

“Because it’s what you promised as payment.”

“…Did I?”

“Why else would I have gone all the way down there?”

Wait. Did my 24th-floor self actually agree to hand over my severed arm as some kind of reward?

What the hell? Who gave him the right?

Certainly not me.

Technically, the me on the 24th floor was a different person.

So, technically… it wasn’t his arm.

Which means… he probably just casually promised the Director he could have it after cutting it off, like it was no big deal.

It’s always easier to make heartless decisions when you’re not the one stuck dealing with the consequences.

“I don’t remember making any such promise. Do you have proof?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

“How could you! Are you going to break your word just because there’s no proof? Bad Fabio!”

“So… no proof, then?”

His face twitched for a second, but then he smiled, looking way too smug for his own good. “No. Actually, there is.”

…This bastard is really getting on my nerves.

“Then show me.”

“No, I don’t want to.”

“…Why not?” I asked, my patience wearing dangerously thin.

“Because I don’t want to?” he replied childishly.

This son of a…

I felt a flash of anger but quickly forced myself to calm down.

He’s doing this on purpose. Trying to provoke me.

If the Research Director really wanted my arm that badly, he wouldn’t need to play these games. He could’ve just lied and told me it had been disposed of before I woke up.

So why all the theatrics? Why go through the trouble of waving my arm in my face like this?

He wants me focused on this.

But that’s not the real issue here.

Someone else was definitely there when it happened.

Without thinking, my hand drifted up to my left eye.

“…Was there really no one else down in the basement?” I asked, my voice quieter now.

“Who knows? Maybe there was.” His answer came with an infuriatingly casual shrug.

“……”

Alright. Let’s just get out of here first. Once I’m outside, I’ll track down Athanas.

And then…

…If I ask him whether he took my left eye too, I’ll sound completely crazy, won’t I?

At that moment, the door flew open with a bang.

“Has Fabio woken up yet?”

A man who looked exactly like the Research Director—except for his empty sleeve where an arm should be, and his jet-black hair—strolled into the room, smiling brightly.

“Fabio! We meet again. How’s your arm holding up?”

…What in the world?

“Um, who is this…?” I stammered, completely thrown off.

“I’m Callister. Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten me! That would be so hurtful,” he exclaimed, dramatically clutching his chest.

“Are you… a clone or something?”

“Callister is a Holy Flesh repository,” Colomba interjected calmly.

What the hell does that even mean?

“Ahem. A Holy Flesh repository is…” The Research Director launched into a painfully long-winded explanation about how he’d created one.

So, essentially, he chopped himself into pieces to create multiple ‘Callisters’ and then stitched himself back together?

The more he talked, the scarier it became.

Because if this wasn’t some side effect of the Madness trait…

It meant he did all of this while being completely, terrifyingly sane.

“…How did you clone your head?” I blurted, unable to contain my curiosity.

I mean, he wasn’t some kind of planarian worm. Chopping off your head doesn’t just make a new one pop up… right?

Then, as if on cue, both of their identical faces stretched into eerie smiles.

“We knew you’d ask that.”

“Why don’t I give you a tour of my lab?”

Out of the blue, just like that?

“…I’m not interested,” I said firmly, my skin prickling with unease.

“But you have the potential to be a brilliant researcher! Most people wouldn’t even think to ask ‘how’ when faced with something like this.”

“Besides,” Colomba added, “you asked about the head, not the heart! Few grasp that the most complex organ resides within the skull.”

So, simply understanding how the brain works qualifies someone as a researcher here?

This was really starting to feel like I’ve been tossed back into the dark, ignorant Middle Ages…

But right now, the ramblings of this mad scientist weren’t my main concern.

Athanas…

Had the record lied about him searching for me?

Or had we simply missed each other?

Where was he now?

“…You keep touching your left eye,” Callister’s voice came from close by. I hadn’t even noticed he’d snuck up beside me.

“Is it bothering you? I could use the blessing of healing….”

I quickly covered my eye with my hand.

“No, thank you. I’m perfectly fine. Not uncomfortable at all.”

“Are you sure? With a bit of Holy Flesh, I could fix the dryness and maybe even sharpen your vision…”

That would mean having a cornea and lens made from bugs.

I’d rather die.

“Really, no thank you. I’ve got somewhere I need to—”

“Oh, I almost forgot! Fabio, there’s someone I want you to meet!” the Research Director’s voice shot up with excitement.

Just ignoring everything I say, huh?

“I’m sorry, but I really have to leave.”

“What? Already?” Callister whined.

“This is too much. I’ve done everything you asked, but Fabio, you can’t even spare a moment?” Colomba’s lips curled into a pout.

“No.” I had no desire to get friendly with a lunatic.

“It would only take a minute to say hello!”

“Then why can’t they come over here?”

“There are… reasons why that’s not possible.”

Red flag. Definitely a sign to stay far, far away.

If this person had to be kept isolated, there was no way they were normal.

They had to be trouble.

“Fabio, why are you in such a rush to leave?”

I hesitated, the thought of Athanas possibly searching for me weighing heavily on my mind. But I decided honesty was the best approach.

“…I hate this place,” I finally admitted. “I want to get out of here as soon as possible.”

Colomba tilted his head, looking genuinely curious. “What do you hate about it?”

“Just… everything.”

I kept pushing, repeating my desire to leave like a broken record until, finally, the Research Director gave in.

“…If you’re that insistent,” he sighed, “I suppose there’s no other choice.”

Thank goodness for Forced Persuasion.

If he’d tried to make me stay, leaving the main building would have been nearly impossible. He was an Apostle of Ledeia, after all, who wasn’t some low-level god.

This entire lab is practically Colomba’s domain, isn’t it?

If this whole mess had taught me anything, it was that running from someone on their own domain was like jumping into a river with rocks tied to your feet. A monumentally stupid idea.

The Research Director opened the door leading out of the lab and gave me a cheerful, “See you next time!”

…Yeah, let’s not.

But I kept my thoughts to myself and walked out.

It didn’t take long to reach the central staircase and slip out of the main building.

[SYSTEM: Due to the effect of ‘The Whole World Is Beneath One’s Self,’ the status effect ‘Oblivion’ has been nullified.]

The notification blinked out of sight just as I stepped into the night air. The cold hit me hard, like a slap, jolting me out of the fog. Everything that happened inside felt distant, fading like a half-remembered dream.

Athanas…

I sighed, my breath misting in the air, a fleeting wisp of white against the cold.

I need to find Athanas.

The thought rooted itself in my mind, stubborn and unshakable.

But… where would he be?

If he was looking for me, where would he start?

…He’d probably check the location of the reliquary first, right?

That oddly led me to one conclusion—my room. So I went.

It felt strange, almost silly. Going to my room to find Athanas.

Why do I even want to see him?

I had no real answer.

Every time I thought about him, a cold sweat broke out and my stomach twisted into knots. The feeling was intense, a nauseating blend of fear and anxiety, like I was about to vomit. It wasn’t pleasant, to say the least.

Shouldn’t I be avoiding him, then?

Reaching my room, I hesitated, hand hovering over the doorknob. My mind raced…

…What if he’s in there, furious and waiting?

The thought made my heart pound.

But when I pushed the door open…

…Empty.

The room was still, silent. A hollow laugh bubbled up inside me. It felt ridiculous to have been so tense, only to find nothing amiss.

I reached under the pillow and pulled out the reliquary.

Athanas hasn’t been here.

Of course not. It was obvious, really. There wasn’t any reason for him to be looking for me in the first place.

…So where should I look for him?

I racked my brain for possibilities. I knew where the holy knights were stationed—there was a dedicated building for them. I could go there, grab the first knight I saw, and ask if they’d seen Athanas. That might be the fastest way to find him.

But then, I’d have to explain why I was looking for him…

…Or I could just wait until tomorrow.

If Athanas wasn’t even aware of what happened—or if he wasn’t looking for me at all—there was no reason to rush. My thoughts were still a mess, tangled in knots that I had to sort through.

Why did I see such a strange scene?

The question nagged at me, an itch in the back of my mind.

I reached up and touched my left eye again, almost involuntarily. It felt normal, fine, like nothing had happened.

…There’s no way Athanas would do something like that.

I tried to reason with myself. He had no reason, no motive. Nothing to gain by hurting me. And the Research Director, working with him? That idea felt equally ridiculous.

Every logical step I took circled back to the same place… Athanas couldn’t have done it.

But then why?

The question gnawed at me, a slow, creeping frustration bubbling up.

Why did it feel so vivid? So real?

…Could it have just been delirium?

My “The Whole World Is Beneath Oneself” trait can shield me from hallucinations, but delirium? That’s different. Delirium doesn’t come from the outside; it’s all internal.

I was hardly in a stable state of mind when I was bleeding out, drowning in pain and fear.

Perfect conditions to believe I saw something completely absurd.

People see things that aren’t there all the time, even when they’re perfectly healthy.

When the brain gets incomplete information, like a low-resolution signal, it fills in gaps with whatever makes the most sense at the time. Like when you’re walking down a dark alley, it converts a flicker in the corner of your eye into a cat’s shadow or a strange sound morphs into whispers. It’s like auto-correct, but for your senses. And if you’ve been bingeing horror movies or ghost stories, well, that harmless shadow naturally gets upscaled into a full-blown ghost before you even realize it.

And since I’ve been seeing Athanas so often lately…

It’s not surprising I imagined him. My mind could’ve just painted him into that moment.

Maybe having my eye gouged out is just some memory I dredged up from a horror trailer or a nightmare I barely remember.

That would explain it. A deeply buried image rearing its head at the worst time, warping itself into something that feels real.

This line of thinking made everything feel simpler, clearer.

The tension behind my left eye faded, replaced by this dull, steady calm.

Yeah. It was just a hallucination… A trick of the mind, thanks to delirium.

The real Athanas was probably fast asleep in his bed right now, completely oblivious to all this.

He wouldn’t remember being “invaded” by Oblivion.

Which meant he had no idea what I’d experienced, or what I’d learned.

For some reason, that brought me a strange sense of relief.

…Thank goodness.

If Athanas didn’t know, then maybe things could just go back to normal…

Knock, knock.

Suddenly, a knock at the door broke the silence.

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

…Athanas?

No, that couldn’t be right.

I just convinced myself he was asleep, safe in his own room.

It must be Elamin.

Or maybe a dorm attendant doing their rounds…

There’s no way it could be Athanas. He had no reason to be here.

I took a slow, steady breath and opened the door.

All the calm I’d built up vanished in an instant.

“…Athanas?”

He stood there, looming like a shadow in the dim hallway light.

“May I…?”

“Yes?”

“…May I come in?”

I hesitated, stepping back. Athanas stayed silent, his gaze fixed on me. Then, without a word, he reached out, his hand brushing against my face.

It felt like he was trying to confirm if I was real… or a ghost.

What’s happening?

I couldn’t read his expression, couldn’t understand his actions. I just stared, frozen.

Then, he let out a long, slow sigh.

A sigh mixed with relief.

Is this… a dream, too?