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

#186Reader Mode

T/N: Thanks for the coffee CaptPrax! I missed working on this too. Another chapter for the Happy Cult! ヾ(≧▽≦*)

#186

The world shifted in an instant, snapping into focus as a room tiled in sterile white.

House Lizard looked down at the white lab coat now draped over his shoulders and let out a low chuckle.

“Well, this is awkward. I may be a doctor, but not the medical kind.”

Cold crept up from the floor, biting at my bare feet. That’s when I spotted the slippers. They hadn’t appeared out of thin air. It was more like they’d always been there, waiting for me to notice.

I slipped them on.

The plastic was smooth, seamless. No joins, no stitching—just a single molded shape. The feeling was strange but oddly familiar.

Where… am I?

“You’re still inside the Dark Realm existing as a ‘player.’”

I hadn’t spoken aloud. But of course, he answered anyway. His habit of answering my thoughts remained unchanged.

“So I’m dreaming? Like a vegetable, completely cut off from the outside world?”

“Not quite. If you were truly severed, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

“…Or maybe you’re just something my subconscious made up. If this is a dream.”

House Lizard smiled at that.

“I can disprove that easily enough. All I have to do is tell you something you don’t know.”

The truth was, I already knew he was real. Even before he spoke.

And I knew this place wasn’t just a dream. It was somewhere you could actually hear the Ultimate Answer.

…Like standing at the edge of a cliff, working up the nerve to jump.

Because once you hear it, there’s no going back. No forgetting. No pretending you never knew.

“What happens after I get the Ultimate Answer?”

“You become free. Truly free. No one will ever be able to toy with you again. The truth raises you above it all—high enough to see the Othergods for what they really are. Petty. Foolish. Small.”

House Lizard extended his hand.

In his open palm lay a single key.

Plain silver. The kind any locksmith could copy without a second thought. Someone had written “Ultimate” across it in black marker.

And just like that, the illusion slipped.

Just a cheap metal key. A gray steel door with peeling paint.

How do I even describe it? Less a gateway to enlightenment, more like… someone’s front door.

Not that it was House Lizard’s fault. This was probably my imagination’s doing. Even if the key had been gold and encrusted with jewels, I’d have just looked at it and thought: escape room prop.

“If I go out there… can I come back?”

“You won’t want to.”

“…There’s something I’d be leaving behind.”

“Does that matter?”

It does.

If I leave alone, what happens to Pandomonium?

He’s probably already snapped.

Which means only Fabio’s body would be left behind. Empty. Unmoving. Like a corpse.

What if he thinks I’m still in there? Trapped?

“That’s something he’ll have to figure out on his own.”

“…He’s kind of an idiot. That might be asking too much.”

“Your staying wouldn’t help him. If anything, his desperation to find you—that might be the very thing that brings him here.”

Well. Maybe.

“Or you could do what I did. Leave a version of yourself behind. A new ‘Fabio’—one who exists solely for Pandomonium, always by his side. Then you’d be free to go. Wouldn’t that put his mind at ease?”

I frowned.

Something shifted, just slightly. A crack in the picture.

What, exactly, am I looking at right now?

“…Where’s the real House Lizard?”

“Asking where doesn’t really apply anymore. He’s not bound by things like that.”

“Where is he.”

“If I had to describe it in physical terms… he went somewhere no one can reach. A place outside the System. Beyond the Othergods’ grasp.”

“…If I open that door, can I meet him? The real House Lizard?”

“No. Like I said—it’s a place no one can find. That includes you. And even if you did manage to meet the ‘real’ House Lizard?” He tilted his head slightly. “That would just be a fake. Something you imagined. Do you understand now?”

“So there’s no way to meet him. Not ever.”

“Correct. Though if you’d like to speak with the ‘real’ House Lizard, I can replicate his conversational patterns. Would you prefer the version of him from before he found the Ultimate Answer?”

Something cold and oily settled in my chest.

A place no one can reach. Where nothing exists.

When something is described like that, it usually means—

“Don’t be afraid, Fabio.”

“…Then why haven’t you gone there?”

“I exist to help you.”

“Then tell me this—what’s the difference between annihilation and enlightenment?”

House Lizard just smiled.

Wrong. Everything about that smile was wrong.

No living thing should be able to make that expression.

Something vast and nameless surged up inside me—pure, blinding terror.

“…I want to go back.”

“You can’t. Not anymore.”

The white walls buckled. The tiles shattered, peeling away into nothing.

And only then did it hit me.

There was no air here. There never had been.

I couldn’t breathe.

I gasped, over and over, but there was nothing to inhale.

Suffocation. The oldest fear. Etched into every cell of every living thing. It hit like a tidal wave. And I drowned in it.

I shook. I screamed.

“System! System!”

“Ignore unnecessary suffering. Fear is their most hackneyed tactic. You can exist without breathing. The sensation of suffocation is not real.”

Every word made sense.

And yet every word pulled me further from reality.

I wasn’t going back. I knew it.

I slammed my hands over my ears, trying to shut him out.

“Aaaagh! Ahhhh!”

“…You don’t have ears. I’m not producing sound through air vibration. There’s no need for that anymore.”

“Stop! Just shut up!”

“You already understand the Ultimate Answer. You can’t stop now. You know it. The answer the System is desperately trying to erase—”

Then silence.

House Lizard was cut off mid-sentence, like a hand reaching for a throat and finding only air.

I lowered my hands. Slowly.

The door was gone.

House Lizard still stood there, but something had changed. His expression was off—stiff, almost… apologetic.

…What just happened?

Was it the System?

Did the cleaning process crash through every failsafe just to wipe him out?

“No, Fabio.”

His voice was quiet. Heavy… like it was carrying grief.

“This was your choice.”

House Lizard held my gaze.

“One step. Three taps of your heel. That’s all it would’ve taken to go home. But you chose this instead—to wander, endlessly, in a world you’ll never truly know.”

“…The Wizard of Oz was a fraud.”

“You’re only remembering half the story. I always liked the Wizard more than the Southern Witch, actually. Because he was a fraud, he got to leave that world behind. Isn’t that real wisdom?”

I pushed myself upright, unsteady on my feet.

A faint scent caught my nose—dry, brittle. Like old firewood burned down to embers.

Wait. This place—

I knew it.

Bell-ringer Antonio’s house.

House Lizard stood by Antonio’s favorite chair, fingers trailing across the worn armrest.

“Knitting. Did you know punch cards—those data-storing strips of paper with holes—originally came from looms?”

Who cares.

I dropped into the opposite chair. My whole body felt like dead weight.

The whole scene had the quiet, uncanny stillness of slipping into Antonio’s house while he was out running errands.

“What did you mean earlier? About being able to leave because he was a fraud?”

“Think about it. If the Wizard of Oz had been seen as a true sage, and revered as a spiritual master… he never would’ve gotten away. No matter how long he taught, the disciples would just keep multiplying. Hands grabbing at him from all sides. The hot-air balloon wouldn’t have left the ground. Poor Oz, trapped there forever. Even after death, there’d be no escape. They’d plate his bones in gold, set them with jewels, enshrine them as holy relics. Wars would be fought over a splinter of rib. Endless pilgrims, weeping and prostrating themselves, desperate to touch what was left of a dead man.”

“Isn’t that what most people want, though?”

That’s why the powerful build such grand tombs. To be remembered. To outlive their own deaths.

“Is that what you want?”

“…No.”

“Then remember this: a hot-air balloon only rises by letting go of weight. The moment someone grabs on—cut the rope.”

Ruthless.

Right. Because abandoning everyone always ends well.

A long sigh slipped out of me.

“Just tell me how to go back.”

“You’re still there.”

“…I know that. But I’ve been cut off. How do I break the isolation?”

“Remove everything the System doesn’t allow.”

“How?”

“You already know.”

I already… know?

I shut my eyes and pictured the Main Building.

By now, they would’ve laid me on the floor. I tried to feel it—the cold stone pressing into my back, the faint scent of ink in the air.

When I opened my eyes, nothing had changed.

That thing—still wearing House Lizard’s face—watched me with the same fixed smile.

“…Then I don’t know after all.”

“That’s not quite true. You do know. You just can’t access it.”

How is that any different?

“…In Conclude, there’s a skill called Self-suggestion. Basic-tier. Anyone with Intelligence over 50 can pick it up. While active, it temporarily boosts Mental Power. You remember this, right?”

I do.

In the Dark Realm, there aren’t many ways to raise stats. Self-suggestion is one of the easiest. Low cost and almost no drawbacks.

Of course I know that—

“Then why didn’t you learn it?”

I stared at him.

Why hadn’t I?

“…Heaven Above, Earth Below, I Alone Reign Supreme. It blocks the System from reading my Intelligence stat. I figured any skill tied to Intelligence would be off-limits too.”

“Did you actually try?”

“Yes.”

Of course I tried.

I tried. It didn’t work. So I gave up.

Isn’t that just logic? Basic cost-benefit reasoning?

“You possess Forced Persuasion, don’t you? It never crossed your mind to apply it to yourself? The same way you might use Self-suggestion?”

“Persuade… myself?”

“Precisely.”

“…No. I’ve never thought to try.”

“Then let’s test it now.”

“I’m not sure if—”

“Picture a slip of paper. Something’s written on it—something you must forget. The moment it’s written, the contents vanish from your mind. If anyone asks you about it later, you’ll react as if you’re hearing it for the first time.”

A slip of paper?

The moment the thought formed, something heavy settled into my sleeve.

A scroll. Small—no longer than my hand.

I didn’t want it. But some deep part of me recognized it instantly.

This was my ‘authority’.

All this time, and I’d never once considered turning my only skill inward. Something to reflect on later.

I loosened the string and unrolled the first section.

The opening line read:

[“If this scroll is rolled back up,” you will forget entirely that you used Forced Persuasion on yourself, and forget that such a thing was ever possible.]

“……”

I unrolled it further.

[If someone mentions ‘Self-suggestion’ or ‘Self-brainwashing,’ you will remember ‘trying it and failing.’ You will feel no urge to try again.]

…That handwriting.

I knew it.

My eyes lifted to House Lizard.

That same smile.

“Keep reading.”

I wrote this?

Not impossible.

If I’d used Forced Persuasion on myself, it would make sense to bury the evidence—make sure I had no idea I’d ever done it. Let the truth rise only when I was ready. When I needed it most.

I wouldn’t have forgotten to build in a failsafe.

And yet—

Something was wrong.

The version of me who’d written this… I had no memory of him. It didn’t feel like I’d manipulated myself.

It felt like someone else had been pulling the strings.

When did I even write this?

[Sentimental thoughts do not arise at dawn. The desire to return to Earth, especially, rarely surfaces.]

…So it really was Self-suggestion.

[Thoughts about Earth are unnecessary. They do not occur unless someone else raises the subject first.]

How was that any different from the line above?

[Stop thinking about designing a medieval-era euthanasia device!]

…Was I doing that?

[I will forget all concepts related to the euthanasia device prototype. I will forget the storage location of the materials. Even if I discover them, I will not recognize their purpose.]

…I actually built one?

When would I have even thought about something like that?

Maybe back when I was terrified—when I believed that without the Blessing of Pain Relief, I’d need a way to die instantly without any suffering.

But keeping something like that inside the Church of Order—where suicide is treated as a sin—

If they found it…

Bad.

This was very, very bad.

By now, I was half afraid to see what came next.

Squinting, I unrolled the scroll inch by inch.

[…I do not crave kimchi with every meal.]

[I perceive the gamey smell of meat as part of its flavor.]

[I can fall asleep anywhere.]

[When I decide it’s time to sleep and close my eyes, I fall asleep within minutes.]

Huh.

All of these… actually pretty helpful.

Then I reached a line that made me stop.

[I do not doubt “Athanas.”]

Why would I write this?

What was the point of it?

…It had to be conditional.

Something like: only when I’m in Athanas’s presence—

A safeguard. To keep my face neutral. My reactions under control.

It had to be.

I kept unrolling.

[I do not consider the possibility that “Athanas” possesses Retrograde.]

[If “Athanas” admits to having Retrograde, I recall that I can erase this knowledge through “Self-persuasion.”]

[I feel nothing unusual about my left eye.]

[My left eye never received the “Blessing of Pain Relief.”]

[The belief that “Athanas” took my left eye was a fever dream. Nothing more.]

[There is no left eye in “Athanas’s reliquary.”]

[“Athanas” does not hurt me.]

[“Athanas” has never killed me.]

[“Athanas” is my ally.]

[Trust “Athanas.”]