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

#183Reader Mode

#183

Pandomonium’s gaze snapped to mine. For a moment, the world fell silent—and in his eyes, I saw my own confusion staring back at me.

“…Your system window. Did it look like a busted calculator?”

“Yeah. Glitched to hell. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

Callister clutched my sleeve tighter. “Fabio, what’s going on?”

“…I don’t know.”

My hand didn’t shake, but calm was the last thing I felt as I reached for Andrea. I tried to curl his fingers into a fist, but they wouldn’t move. Not stiff—solid. Less human, more statue. He hadn’t just frozen mid-reach; he’d been petrified. Suspended between one breath and the next.

So time’s stopped, but only for non-players? Is that what this is?

My thoughts scrambled for answers, but then I spotted the hearth across the room. The fire still burned—logs crackling, embers leaping into the air. Not everything had frozen. Inanimate objects were untouched.

Which only made this a hundred times weirder.

The sky. I need to check the sky. Are the stars still moving?

The astrolabe could tell me in an instant. Except Athanas had it. Not that it mattered. He was probably a statue now, too.

A sudden chill crept up my spine. Something’s wrong. Deeply wrong.

My gaze snapped back to Andrea.

His eyes weren’t still.

They were moving.

Not a twitch—nothing reflexive. It was slow crawl, almost too faint to register. Those green-brown irises shifted with purpose. Horrifying purpose. Adjusting. Focusing.

They landed on me.

Locked on.

Saw me.

Knew me.

Shit.

“Hyung?”

My body reacted before my brain caught up. I ducked behind Pandomonium instinctively. A cold bead of sweat slid down the back of my neck as I whispered.

“Turn around. Slowly. And back the hell away.”

That feeling—I knew it.

That crushing, lead-heavy sensation of being watched.

It was Order.

Roklem. That bastard was staring out at me through Andrea’s eyes.

But why?

No, dumb question. I already knew why. Gods didn’t just sit back on some throne in the clouds, watching the world like a play. They inhabited it. Lived through it. Through the senses of their believers. Every whispered prayer was a little ping on their radar. A field report. It was why the maps in Conclude only lit up where the faithful walked.

It’s why we always timed our raids right after prayer services. Let them miss one report—maybe two—and sure, some Holy Knight might get dispatched to sniff around.

By then, we were long gone, and the whole place was burned to ash.

Most of the time, we didn’t even need to kill the priests. Just brainwash one and have him feed false intel during prayer. Gods like Roklem wouldn’t suspect a thing.

That’s the dirty little secret about gods: they’re basically blind. Think of them as celestial CEOs who never leave their corner office, relying entirely on the memos sent up from the mailroom. It’s why they’re so damn easy to fool. And why they come down hard on false prayers—because for them, it is the end of the world. If enough believers start sending in bogus reports, the whole divine surveillance network collapses.

So every now and then, a god gets spooked. Paranoid. Decides to skip the middleman and see things for themselves right through a believer’s eyes. The raw power of it would kill anyone who wasn’t at least an Archbishop. Their brains would hemorrhage in minutes, blood leaking from their eyes and ears before they even knew what hit them.

And the System had called it a “Descent.”

So that was it? Roklem had descended, forcing a sliver of divine consciousness into Andrea’s body?

No. That didn’t fit. The alert had said the entire Dark Realm was the affected zone.

This wasn’t one god getting nosy. This was something bigger. Way bigger.

“Stay put,” I muttered and eased away from Pandomonium, taking one slow, deliberate step to the left. I had to be sure. Were those eyes just sweeping the room… or locked on me? Was Roklem trying to identify the Players? Or was he looking for—

Oh no.

Andrea’s head didn’t move, but his eyes did. That gaze clung to me like tar, tracking every twitch, every breath.

Why?

A helpless rage burned in my chest. Why me? What grudge could Order possibly have? I was the one who helped proclaim the sanctuary! The moment that bell rang, Roklem would’ve felt it light up on his divine radar. He had to know I was nothing. A mayfly. Completely worthless. I couldn’t even look straight at his gaze without wanting to fall apart.

If Order wanted me dead, there were a thousand easier ways. The Bell Keeper could’ve “accidentally” pushed me off the tower. Or Order could’ve just commanded me to freeze where I stood and wait for hypothermia to do the rest—

“So what the hell do you want from me?!”

“Hyung? What’s wrong??”

“I am so fucking done with this.”

My eye locked on the Saint’s relic—still suspended in midair, exactly where Andrea had dropped it. I lunged, grabbing it from its impossible stasis. Pain exploded across my palms. I barely choked back a scream as the holy metal scorched my skin, the smell of blistering flesh filling my nose.

But I didn’t let go.

I gripped it tighter.

“Roklem!”

I forced myself to meet Andrea’s gaze, to stare down the god wearing his face. It was like staring into the sun. Fire lanced through my skull, and my eye instantly watered, but I didn’t look away. I refused to give him the satisfaction. I poured every ounce of rage into my voice.

“What is it? You here to wipe out all the players? Fine! Do it! But before you kill me, maybe deal with the Mother God’s player first! I’m not dying twice just to make your job easier! Or what—do you like redoing the same damn task over and over?”

“Hyung, what the hell are you doing?! You got a death wish?”

“I’m doing this so I don’t fucking die!” I shot back, screaming so hard it sent another wave of agony crashing through my head.

The pain in my hands finally won.

I gasped and dropped the relic. It hit the floor with a hard clatter, and I pulled my hands to my chest, cradling them. They were a mess—raw, blistered skin, already bubbling and red like I’d grabbed a branding iron. Not just divine backlash like I was some demon. This felt personal. A god’s way of flipping me off.

I wiped my face on the back of my hand, trying to clear my vision, but then I froze.

Red.

Blinking hard, I looked again. My fingers came away wet, streaked with something far thicker than tears.

That… wasn’t tears.

My head snapped up. “Callister, come here.”

“Fabio…” His voice was soft. Hesitant. Off. I’d expected relief. Maybe even a little excitement from him. Not… whatever this was.

I shook it off and grabbed my biomass cleaner, swiping the blood from my face. Then I pulled on the gloves Andrea had tried to hand me earlier.

The System stayed quiet through it all. Completely useless.

“Hey, Trembly. Any clue what’s going on here?”

[…I don’t know.]

“What do you mean you don’t know? You’re a Helper! This whole ‘Tutorial Emergency’ whatever—how does it work? What triggers it? You said it’s up to the System’s discretion when activated, right? So what are the conditions? Don’t just sit there, answer me!”

[I told you. I don’t know. When I say that, it means I literally have no information to give you, fool.]

“Then make something up. Toss me a theory. I’ll take wild-ass guesses at this point.”

A long beat of silence. I could practically hear it thinking.

[The System does not make mistakes. Ever.]

“Okay… and?”

[…But nothing that exists is without flaw.]

The two statements hung there, balanced in perfect contradiction.

“So what are you trying to tell me?”

[That is all I can tell you.]

“……”

I stared into space, fuming. A philosophical riddle. That was it. In the middle of a crisis, he hit me with a goddamn riddle.

“You’re completely useless. Should’ve gone with the Rider of Civilization’s Helper instead.”

[I explained it perfectly. The failure to comprehend lies with you, foolish bastard.]

Yeah, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night, you useless piece of origami.

I let out a breath that didn’t do a damn thing to calm me, then stepped out of the chapel—only to nearly trip over a heap of black robes collapsed halfway down the walkway. Crouching down, I saw it was one of the priests.

Same situation.

I couldn’t move a single hair on his head, but his eyes—clouded, half-lidded—were definitely tracking something. Barely-there movements, subtle shifts. And the second our gazes locked, that familiar spike of pain lanced through my skull.

Every priest in this place… they’re just cameras now. Roklem’s eyes following me. The Tutorial’s Emergency safeguard was keeping Order from doing anything but watch, but that didn’t make it any less disturbing. His gaze felt like a weight pressing into my skin, itching and crawling across every nerve ending.

“Hyung, you’re seriously starting to freak me out. Could you maybe let me in on whatever the hell is going on in your head?”

“The Emergency Rescue System… When it triggered for you before, it shut off as soon as you were safe, right?”

“I… yeah. I think so?”

I tilted my head back, searching the sky for answers. The sun was already low, even though evening was still a ways off. Winter solstice was approaching fast.

So what’s the play here, System?

I thought back to what the Saint had told me. Some of the Watched Ones had already converted and jumped ship to Team Order. Players were being taken out one by one. Didn’t matter if they surrendered or got caught. The Tutorial never guaranteed a full survival rate.

But this? This was something else entirely. The world was on pause, and no one gave us the rules for intermission. It was the perfect trap. No escape routes, and dying was so inconvenient it was practically discouraged. If I tried to get struck by lightning right now, I’d probably have to take a number and wait my turn.

“Hey,” I said, turning to Pandomonium. “You ever had time slow down this much before? Like really slow—people freezing in place, everything grinding to a halt?”

“Never,” he said, shaking his head. “First time I’ve seen time dilation this extreme.”

So this wasn’t just rare. It was new. An anomaly.

And somehow, we were in the middle of it.

I rubbed my temples, a headache blooming behind my eyes. But Trembly’s words kept repeating in my mind: The System does not make mistakes.

So if this wasn’t a mistake… then what the hell was it?

I had nothing. Total blank.

Until a memory surfaced. “House Lizard…”

“What about him?”

“He said I’d never understand it. Not as long as I was still under the System’s influence.”

The War God’s Helper said almost the exact same thing. Told me he’d already said enough, and if I couldn’t figure it out, that was my problem.

Pandomonium frowned. “When did he tell you that?”

“Back when you were showing me your ‘study.’ Y’know, the basement under the Main Building.”

“Wait, what? There weren’t any contaminated humans down there.”

“Francesco was right next to us the whole time. You just couldn’t see him.”

“The fuck—”

I winced as another jolt of pain tore through my skull, another priest’s gaze landing on me. My vision swam. More blood. More tears. Pathetic. Just a sliver of divine attention and I was already coming apart.

But even as the pressure mounted—like an ant under a magnifying glass—something unexpected bubbled up.

Pity.

For all Order’s power… He’s trapped.

Roklem. Still bound by the System. Just like the rest of us.

The realization was staggering. Roklem was a whale caught in a fisherman’s net. All that power, all that vast, incomprehensible force… and he couldn’t even open his mouth to scream.

All Order could do was thrash blindly and peer through the gaps, desperate just to see.

“Hyung, where are we going?” Pandomonium asked as he followed me.

“Main building.” I didn’t slow down.

“But why—”

Damn, he talks too much.

I tuned him out. My brain was finally catching up to my feet, chasing down a half-formed idea.

Think about it: if this situation really was unwinnable, the System wouldn’t have bothered hitting pause. It would’ve just rolled the ending credits. Flashed a GAME OVER. Like Solitaire politely telling you there are no more legal moves.

So that means there is a move left. A way out.

This stretched, frozen moment… it isn’t a dead end. It’s a test. A challenge hidden inside a crisis. There’s something I’m supposed to do here. Some move I have to make to survive.

And the more that sank in, the angrier I got.

Would it kill the System to be straightforward for once? Just one simple quest update. A blinking arrow. A pop-up window. Literally anything!

This whole mess was the System’s fault. It didn’t do its job.

House Lizard found a crack in the world, an exploit, and what did the System do? No emergency patch. No sever rollback. Just… this. In any halfway sane online game, the devs would’ve pulled the plug for maintenance immediately.

“Hyung! Please just tell me! What are you planning to do in the Main Building?”

“I’m going to Basement Level 24.”

“The basement? Why would we go there?”

I didn’t answer. My gaze was fixed on the doors ahead.

You hear that, System? You useless bastard?

I know you’re watching. And if all you’re going to do is sit there on your digital ass, then fine. I’m done playing by your rules. I’m walking straight into your blind spot. I’m gonna let House Lizard whisper all his little ‘ultimate truths’ into my ear.

So if you’ve got a problem with that, now’s your chance to stop me.

I pushed through the doors, and froze at the stairwell entrance. The air hit me like a wall: cold, damp, and thick with something ancient and wrong. Just looking into that suffocating blackness made my stomach twist.

Do I really have to go down there?

Every instinct screamed no. My fingers dug into my arm, nails biting flesh, pain grounding me against the wave of dread rising in my chest—

[Fabio, Fabio, Fabio, Fabio, Fabio!]

The paper crane shrieked my name.

“What the hell?”

Was the War God’s Helper having a meltdown again? Did the Mother God say something that triggered it?

Wait.

Had Trembly ever actually used my name before?

[Don’t go down there! Fabio!]

…Is this Records speaking?

Come to think of it, the crane was folded from a page of a Book of Records. I thought draining the ink had neutralized it, but apparently, a fragment of Level 4’s Records was still clinging to the paper.

“Why not? What’s down there?”

[I don’t know. The me that knew… is gone.]

“You’re Records from Level 4, right? What happened? What’s Francesco doing now?”

[Francesco? I don’t know that word.]

I swear I’m going to ban the phrase ‘I don’t know’ from the entire damn universe. First Trembly, now Records. Was everyone around me some kind of divine goldfish with three-second memories?

“You told me about him yourself. Francesco, the one who writes well. That’s his name.”

[Me? Knowing is… hard. Pieces missing. Fading… even now.]

“What do you mean knowing is hard? Just say you don’t know.”

[Don’t know? Don’t know is gone. Know? I don’t. I don’t know. Name. My name. Fabio? You know name? My name?]

Is it asking for its own name?

I had no idea. It wasn’t like I’d forgotten; I had literally never heard it. But something in my gut told me that if I said “I don’t know” one more time, it’d be over. Like pulling the plug on this fragile little fragment of Records. It would vanish for good.

So I had to guess.

Some gods had names that were basically job titles like Floren or Ophea. Maybe Records worked the same way. My brain cycled through synonyms for Records: Memory, Log, Archive, Scroll… Codex.

“Codex?” I tried.

[Codex?]

“Yeah. Codex. Is that your name?”

[…Codex. Codex! Codex? Codex! I am Codex!]

The paper crane practically burst with joy, shrieking the name over and over—and just like that, a flood of notifications hit, and my heart sank.

[SYSTEM: ‘Codex (Remnant of Records)’ has been deeply moved by your words!]

[SYSTEM: Achievement Update! A new chapter has been added to ‘Miracle of the Silver Tongue.’]

[SYSTEM: Your rank has increased slightly.]

Oh shit. Wrong answer.

[I am Codex! Cute! A wonderful name! I’ll write it down right now so I never, ever forget! I am Codex!]