Code_B_OldWorld: Hey, Sua. What’s up?

Sua Yoon (Aria): …What’s with that edgy username?! Don’t tell me even this system can be hacked?

Code_B_OldWorld: Oh, I modeled this chat window after that “messaging app” from your world. I couldn’t wrap my head around what you were trying to say, so I had to dig deeper.

Anyway, your internet… it’s full of bizarre, fascinating things!

Apparently, you need a “nickname,” right? But I couldn’t think of anything cool, so I turned to the power of the internet. And this one—this one looked awesome. Totally epic. Absolutely fire.

Oh, and the “B” stands for Barael, of course!

Sua Yoon (Aria): …Are you serious?

Code_B_OldWorld: Yep! I put so much thought into this. “OldWorld. Code name. B!”

Doesn’t it sound mysterious? Like I’ve got some dark past and unresolved trauma?

Sua Yoon (Aria): No, it just sounds like you’re a delusional edgelord trying to escape reality.

Also—where did you even learn that word…?

As soon as that cursed phrase resurfaced in her mind—one she’d hoped to never hear again—Sua squeezed her eyes shut and curled up, mortified.

Deep breaths. In and out.

Compared to the world-ending mission I’ve been given, this kind of cringe is nothing.

Even if my anti-cringe tolerance is low, I can survive this. I must.

Why, of all things on the internet, did he have to stumble across that trend?

The people who created it… did they ever imagine it would reach a transcendent being from another world?

Sua Yoon (Aria): Anyway, let’s get back to the main topic.

The “god” described in the original story—you said the oracles started to fail, and became less accurate over time, right?

Code_B_OldWorld: Yeah. Some said the god was angry. Others said the god had gone silent.

But in reality…

Sua Yoon (Aria): Wait a second. Barael, you already knew how the world would end, didn’t you?

That means you have some kind of foresight, right?

And from the people here, the “original story” I know is basically a prophetic scripture.

So then… are you saying you’re not the only divine being in this world?

Code_B_OldWorld: …Now that’s a good question.

Sua Yoon (Aria): If the “god” in the original story was you, things don’t add up.

You have the ability to predict the end of the world—

So why would you deliver incorrect oracles? Why would they get more unstable over time?

Did you want to confuse people? Push the world into chaos?

But then, why bring me here and ask me to stop that same destruction?

That doesn’t make any sense. If you really wanted the world to end, you wouldn’t need me at all.

Barael’s tone shifted—serious again.

Code_B_OldWorld: …You’re right.

I guess it’s time you knew.

There’s no point hiding it from someone like you.

Sua Yoon (Aria): …No way. Are you telling me…

Code_B_OldWorld: Yes.

I’m not a god.

I’m just a being who transcended humanity.

And the divine power I use… I borrowed it. A long time ago.

Sua Yoon (Aria): …So you pretended to be a god?

Code_B_OldWorld: That wasn’t my intention at first.

When the god vanished and the world started to shake, people needed something to believe in.

Someone had to play that role—or everything really would’ve fallen apart.

So I delivered prophecies in the name of the god.

People wanted to believe, so… I let them.

Yes. I was an illusion. A placeholder to keep the world from crumbling.

Sua Yoon (Aria): …

Code_B_OldWorld: But the power wasn’t mine.

It was borrowed—and over time, it began to escape my grasp.

It became unstable. The predictions went awry.

And eventually, I realized:

“I cannot replace the god.”

Sua Yoon (Aria): So… you decided to stop giving prophecies?

Code_B_OldWorld: Right. If I kept pretending, it might only make things worse.

So the last “oracle” I delivered was… just wordplay.

Ambiguous. Vague. Something no one could truly confirm.

“No one was chosen. But that does not mean no one can be.”

That was the last message I gave as “the god.”

Sua Yoon (Aria): …What does that even mean?

Code_B_OldWorld: …Honestly? I don’t know anymore.

But one thing’s clear:

Someone has to choose. And act.

And you, Sua—you’re one of those someones.

When I first met him, he told me he was “a transcendent, not a god,”

That I didn’t need to be formal.

Back then, I was overwhelmed—by his aura, his abilities, his mystery—so I just assumed he was this world’s god. Or something like it.

But the truth was…

The god had long since died.

The perfect, all-knowing deity this world believed in had limits too.

And the one who tried to fill that void… was still just a man.

…Even knowing the truth, it doesn’t change the path I have to take.

There’s only one thing I must do:

Shut down the Artificial God Project—

And prove that humanity can live on without a god.

Because in reality, people in this world have already been living without one.

They just don’t know it.

We don’t need magic reactors, divine blessings, or holy relics to survive.

There are other ways.

Just like the world I came from.

A world with no magic, no gods, no fantasy.

And yet, people built civilizations and lived full lives.

Sua Yoon (Aria):

Barael, maybe you couldn’t fully replace the god.

But for ten thousand years… you carried this world on your back.

You did more than enough.

A human, holding the world alone, for so long…

So now—it’s okay to let go.

Leave it to your descendants.

To us.

We’ll protect this world ourselves.

We’ll move forward… without you.

“…Then this is the end of our role, isn’t it?”

One of the older Barael versions—watching the chat from over the younger one’s shoulder—murmured softly.

It felt like the end of a very long journey.

Their expressions wavered between sorrow… and relief.

Just then, another message appeared in the chat window.

Sua Yoon (Aria):

By the way… you’ll still let me use the status window, right?

The 200-year-old Barael paused, then slowly smiled.

And with a faint, amused sigh, he muttered under his breath:

“Ha… So that was your real goal all along.”

Yet somehow, his expression was nothing but proud.