Kokabiel PoV
After leaving Heaven, I descended into the human world, choosing a small village in what I believed was France.
The date was sometime in 1350, though humans measured time so differently that exact dates seemed less important than seasons and harvests.
I took on a human form, basing it carefully on Adam, the first human, whose design Yahweh had been particularly proud of. Light blonde hair that caught the sunlight, blue eyes the color of a clear sky, a slim youthful build that suggested health without excessive strength.
It should have been unremarkable, forgettable even.
It was not.
Within an hour of arriving in the first village, I was being chased by a crowd of females of all ages—young women, elderly grandmothers, even some prepubescent girls whose mothers really should have been supervising them better. Several men joined the pursuit as well, their intentions equally enthusiastic if more confused.
"Marry me!" one woman shrieked.
"No, marry MY daughter!" another countered.
"He's an angel sent from God!" an old woman declared, which was technically accurate but extremely inconvenient.
"He can cure the plague just by looking at us!" someone else shouted, which was both inaccurate and problematic.
I did what I should do, I teleported. An outer god, capable of unmaking reality itself, fleeing from a mob of desperate, attracted humans. The absurdity wasn't lost on me, even in my emotionally limited state.
I eventually hid in a barn, gasping unnecessarily. I didn't actually need to breathe, but the human form came with certain automatic responses.
My angelic nature was bleeding through despite the mortal disguise. Yahweh had built certain qualities into angels that apparently translated poorly to human form.
The inherent beauty, the unconscious aura of holiness and comfort, the magnetic presence that drew people instinctively.
I added another seal. Then another. By the fifth seal, I could finally walk through a village without causing a riot, though people still stared longer than was strictly polite.
I arrived at a different village a week later, this one larger and clearly struggling. The smell hit me first. Sickness, death, unwashed bodies, and raw sewage mixing into a miasma that would have made me gag if I still had functioning disgust responses.
The plague was here. I could sense it in the air, in the black swellings on people's bodies, in the carts full of corpses being wheeled to mass graves outside the village walls.
"I'm a healer," I told the village elder, a weathered man whose eyes held the exhausted desperation of someone who'd watched too many people die. "I can help you if you let me."
He looked at me skeptically. "We've had healers. They either die or flee. What makes you different?"
"I don't get sick," I said simply. "And I actually know what I'm doing."
That was enough. Healers were in desperately short supply, and beggars couldn't afford to be choosers.
They gave me a small house near the village center, recently vacated by its previous owner who'd died of plague three days ago. The smell of death still lingered despite attempts to clean it. I didn't mind. Smell was just information, after all.
The first thing I did was examine the plague itself . The bacterium Yersinia pestis, carried by fleas on rats, spreading through populations with devastating efficiency.
But there was something else, something supernatural layered over the natural disease. A miasma, a curse, something dark that fed on human suffering and amplified the plague's effects.
I walked to the village center and raised my hand to the sky. Holy magic poured out, more controlled than I'd ever managed before my transformation.
The dark smog that had been hanging over the village, literally blocking out the sun, dissolved like mist under strong wind.
Sunlight broke through for the first time in weeks.
People emerged from their homes, staring at the sky in wonder. Some cried. Others fell to their knees in prayer. The village elder approached me with tears streaming down his weathered face.
"You truly are sent by God," he whispered.
"The miasma is gone," I said, uncomfortable with his reverence. "But the people already infected will continue to spread the disease. We need to implement quarantine procedures, improve hygiene, and treat the sick with actual medicine rather than prayer alone."
He nodded eagerly. "Whatever you say sir. Tell us what to do."
The work was brutal.
Not physically, I didn't tire, didn't need sleep, could work continuously without pause. But mentally, emotionally, it was exhausting in ways I hadn't anticipated.
The conditions were unhygienic beyond anything I'd imagined. People lived in filth, threw their waste into the streets, shared living spaces with animals. Basic concepts like handwashing between patients were foreign to them.
I had to explain repeatedly, demonstrate obsessively, practically force people to clean themselves and their surroundings.
"But water is precious!" one woman protested when I told her to wash her hands every time before handling food.
"Disease is more costly than water," I countered. "Would you rather waste water or waste your children's lives?"
I treated dozens of patients daily. The work was messy, unpleasant, often futile. Many were too far gone when they came to me, the plague had progressed beyond what regular holy magic could easily reverse without drawing too much attention to my nature.
I had to keep moving before my existence drew too much attention. But words still spread. An angel who have come down to heal the sick. Some even thought I was some reincarnation of Jesus.
Didn't make sense. Jesus wasn't even remotely similiar to my looks. Then I went to a church and saw that apparently he was depicted as a blonde guy with blue eyes like me. I didn't correct them, just left.
But I saved many. And in saving them, I learned.
I learned that humans, when sick and near death, revealed their truest selves.
A merchant who'd been known for his greed spent his final conscious moments begging me to ensure his wealth went to his estranged daughter, tears streaming down his face as he confessed years of regrets.
A young mother with buboes swelling her neck fought death with terrifying determination, clinging to consciousness not for herself but because her infant son needed feeding and no one else would care for him properly.
An elderly man who'd been the village drunk sobered up when plague took him, and in his final days became the kindest patient I had, thanking me for every small comfort, apologizing for being trouble, asking about my own wellbeing even as he suffered.
A teenage girl who'd been vain and cruel according to the village gossip spent her illness crying not from pain but from shame, desperately trying to make amends with everyone she'd wronged before death claimed her.
I saved the mother. Her joy when I placed her healed son back in her arms was so intense it made my chest hurt. Not physically, just an ache, an echo of what feeling such happiness should be like.
I couldn't save the old drunk. He died peacefully, holding my hand, still thanking me for trying. The gratitude in his eyes as he passed felt important somehow, significant in ways I couldn't fully process.
I sat with them. All of them. Held their hands when they needed comfort. Listened to their stories, their fears, their regrets, their desperate hopes for loved ones who would survive them.
"My daughter," one dying woman whispered, her hand gripping mine with surprising strength. "Tell her... tell her I'm sorry I was harsh. Tell her I loved her. That I was always proud, even when I couldn't say it."
"I'll tell her," I promised.
"Thank you." She smiled, peaceful for the first time since I'd met her. "You're a good man. An angel in human skin."
She died three hours later. I delivered her message to her daughter, watched the girl break down sobbing, holding her mother's final words like precious treasures.
That ache in my chest grew stronger.
Days bled into weeks. I fell into a rhythm. wake at dawn (unnecessary but humans expected it), make rounds to check on recovering patients, treat new cases, explain hygiene procedures for the hundredth time, sit with the dying, deliver final messages, help prepare bodies for burial, collapse into bed at night (also unnecessary but maintaining the human facade required consistency).
The villages learned to trust me. Brought me their sick without hesitation. Started implementing the hygiene measures I recommended. The infection rate dropped steadily.
But the emotional education continued.
I watched a father carry his plague-stricken son to me, the man's face set in grim determination despite the tears streaming down his face. "Save him," he begged. "Take everything I have, just save my boy."
"I don't want your possessions," I said, already examining the child. "I just want you to boil your water and wash your hands. That's the price."
I saved the boy. The father's relief was so profound he collapsed, sobbing into his hands. I stood there awkwardly, uncertain how to respond, until the man suddenly hugged me—crushing, desperate, grateful.
"Thank you," he kept repeating. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."
I patted his back carefully. "You're welcome. Now go boil your water before I have to save him again."
He laughed through his tears. Actually laughed. The sound felt important.
I watched couples care for each other through sickness. Husbands who'd seemed cold and distant becoming tender nurses for their wives. Wives who'd been demure and quiet revealing fierce protective instincts when their husbands fell ill.
I watched children display resilience that astounded me, recovering from near-death with bounce-back capability that defied medical logic.
I watched the elderly accept death with grace, their final days spent sharing wisdom with younger generations, making peace with long-held grudges, finding closure before the end.
I watched the village come together. Neighbors helping neighbors. Strangers sharing resources. The wealthy giving to the poor. Barriers of class and status dissolving in the face of shared crisis.
And slowly, incrementally, I began to understand.
Emotions weren't just chemical reactions or neural patterns to be catalogued and simulated. They were the substance of existence itself for these humans. The framework through which they experienced reality.
Fear wasn't just threat assessment, it was the mother's trembling hands as she brought me her sick child, the visceral terror of losing what mattered most.
Love wasn't just pair bonding or social cohesion, it was the father working himself to exhaustion to buy medicine for his family, the sacrifice of self for others' wellbeing.
Hope wasn't just optimistic probability calculation, it was people continuing to fight, to care, to help each other even when death surrounded them and logic said surrender was easier.
Grief wasn't just loss recognition, it was the hollow-eyed widow who kept setting two places at table, forgetting her husband was gone, then remembering and breaking down again.
I couldn't feel these things properly yet. But I could see them, recognize their value, understand why they mattered so profoundly.
"You're different from other healers," the village elder told me one evening. We were sitting outside his home, watching the sun set, a sun that now shone regularly thanks to my intervention.
"How so?"
"You Really listen to them. Most healers are too busy or too overwhelmed. But you... you sit with people. Hear their stories. Even when there's nothing more you can do medically, you stay. That matters."
"I'm trying to understand," I admitted. "Humans confuse me. But I want to learn."
He smiled. "That honesty is rare. Most would pretend perfect understanding. You admit your limitations. That takes wisdom."
Maybe. Or maybe it just took being so broken that pretense was pointless.
But the work continued, and slowly, in the space between one patient's tears and another's gratitude, between death's sorrow and recovery's joy, I felt something shifting inside me.
Not healing yet. But beginning to understand.
I was in front of my small house one evening, looking at the stars, when my chat system pinged. Multiple messages coming in rapidly.
[Flash Goddess: Kokabiel-san! How are things going? It's been like two weeks since you last checked in! Are you vanishing again.]
Yoruichi was lounging in her bath after a long day of training. She was enjoying a rare moment of relaxation. I stopped observing as it was rude to look at someone when they are naked. But I should say she was... beautiful? I believe that's the right term.
[Heaven's Wrath: Sorry Youruichi. I have left Heaven and trying to live among humans. It's rather unclean, considering we are in medieval era and a plague is going on.]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: Oh shit! The black plague? I forgot your world timeline is still not in cannon era. ]
In Axel, Kazuma was sprawled on his couch in the mansion, nursing what looked like his third drink despite it being early afternoon. His face was haggard, exhausted in a way that went beyond physical tiredness.
[Heaven's Wrath: Yes, it's rather bad. I took job as a healer, to help them and better understand human emotions. How are things in your world, Kazuma?]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: DON'T ASK. We just fought a Dullahan. One of the DEMON KING'S GENERALS. Because Megumin kept blowing up his castle for her daily explosion practice. DAILY. For WEEKS. Although, I also didn't know that he was living there....]
Kazuma took another long drink, his hands shaking slightly as he typed.
[Shadow Monarch: Wait, you fought a Demon King general? How are you alive? Aren't you pathetically weak? ]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: Hey, fuck you too, Stepmother fucker!]
Jin Woo tried to punch Kazuma through the screen. Although Kokabiel didn't reveal anything, apparently Kazuma knew what does "Step-mom route" meant. He's been baiting him with that ever since.
He swore he would let Kazuma have a very friendly chat with Igris.
[Shadow Monarch: You know I can kill and resurrect you as one of my shadow army?]
[ Advocate of Gender Equality: ... I was just joking man. Please don't hurt me.]
[The Fool: Are you idots going to start this again? Give it a rest. Kazuma, finish your story. How did you beat him?]
[ Advocate of Gender Equality: I honestly don't know how! He kept demanding we give him Megumin or he'd destroy the town. So we had to fight him. Somehow won. SOMEHOW. And you know what happened after?]
[Flash Goddess: You were celebrated as heroes?]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: AQUA DESTROYED THE CITY WALL WITH HER ATTACK! Now I'm in MORE DEBT. I defeated a DEMON KING GENERAL and I'm DEEPER IN DEBT THAN BEFORE!]
In Chaldea, Ritsuka couldn't help but giggle as she read the messages from her bed. Mash was nearby, pretending not to read over her shoulder but clearly invested.
[Last Master of Humanity: At least you survived though! That's impressive!]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: IS IT THOUGH? Because now the Demon King probably knows exactly where we are and that we can kill his generals. I'm going to die. I'm actually going to die because Megumin likes big explosions.]
[Girl Who Loves Reading: That does sound stressful. Have you considered... not letting her blow up the castle daily?]
Robin was in the library of the Thousand Sunny, though the atmosphere was tense. They'd just arrived at Sabaody Archipelago, and the whole crew was on edge.
[Advocate of Gender Equality: HAVE I CONSIDERED IT? Robin, I've BEGGED her to stop. I've PLEADED. I've tried bribing her with bigger targets. She doesn't CARE. She just wants to blow up the castle because she needs a proper target!]
[Heaven's Wrath: Your life continues to be remarkably chaotic for someone who claims to want a peaceful existence.]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: I KNOW. This is the opposite of the easy life I was promised! I was supposed to be living in luxury! Instead I'm fighting demon generals and drowning in debt!]
[Shadow Monarch: At least you have friends helping you? That's... something?]
Jin Woo typed hesitantly from his apartment. He looked exhausted, shadows flickering around him unconsciously. There were dark circles under his eyes that suggested he hadn't been sleeping well.
[Advocate of Gender Equality: "Friends" is a generous term. Aqua is useless, Megumin only casts one spell a day then becomes dead weight, and Darkness is... hopeless. I'm surrounded by disasters in human form.]
Youruichi chuckled as she typed.
[Flash Goddess: That's a bit harsh, isn't it?]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: Last week Darkness tried to get arrested on PURPOSE because she thought prison would be "exciting." I had to bail her out. WITH MONEY I DIDN'T HAVE!]
Yoruichi was laughing loudly now, her shoulders shaking as she read the increasingly frantic messages.
[Heaven's Wrath: Jin Woo, Is everything alright in your world?]
There was a long pause. Jin Woo stared at his screen, clearly debating how much to share.
[Shadow Monarch: ...Fine. Everything's fine. Just busy with dungeons. I'm going for my hunter evaluation soon to increase my rank to S-class.]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: Dude, that's huge! Congratulations!]
[Shadow Monarch: Thanks. It's been a long time coming. The evaluation is pretty rigorous, but I think I'm ready.]
[Last Master of Humanity: That's wonderful, Jin Woo-san! I'm sure you'll do great!]
[Shadow Monarch: Appreciate it. Just need to focus on training and not get distracted by... anything else.]
I could sense the strain in his words. Through my Omniscience, I could see the chaos of his actual situation. His stepmother's increasingly forward advances, his stepsister's concerning behavior
worst of all, Jin-Ah's sixteen-year-old classmate Song Yi who'd apparently decided Jin Woo was her destined boyfriend.
The system had even registered it as a new route: "Prison Leveling."
The name alone was concerning on multiple levels.
But Jin Woo clearly didn't want to discuss it, so I respected his privacy.
[Heaven's Wrath: Good luck with the evaluation. I'm confident you'll succeed.]
[Shadow Monarch: Thanks. How's your emotional recovery going?]
[Heaven's Wrath: Incremental progress. I can smile or feel basic human emotions.]
[Flash Goddess: That's amazing progress, Kokabiel!]
[The Fool: Genuine emotional response is a significant milestone. How did it feel?]
Klein was in his apartment in Backlund, having just returned from another Tarot gathering. He'd been busy lately. Officially joining the Nighthawks, getting acquainted with the team, and somehow managing his double life as both a Nighthawk and Mr. Fool.
And he felt someone was watching him depite there being any proof. Yet he couldn't shake off the feeling.
[Heaven's Wrath: Painful but profound. Like something frozen finally thawing. It hurt, but underneath the pain was relief. Proof that recovery is possible.]
[The Fool: That's encouraging. My own situation has been complex lately. The gatherings are growing. More people joining, more secrets to manage, more roles to play.]
[Girl Who Loves Reading: Are you doing alright, Klein-san? That sounds stressful.]
[The Fool: Managing. The Nighthawks are good people, even if they don't know about my other identity. It's strange, having these separate lives that can't intersect.]
[Heaven's Wrath: I know it's exhausting, been there. You have my sympathies.]
[Flash Goddess: Speaking of complex situations... Robin-chan, you've been quiet. Is everything okay?]
Robin had been reading the messages in the library, but her expression was troubled. Around her, she could hear the crew moving frantically, Nami's voice sharp with worry, Sanji's usual cheer replaced with tension.
[Girl Who Loves Reading: We just arrived at Sabaody Archipelago. It's... complicated here. Very different from the other islands.]
[Last Master of Humanity: Is it dangerous?]
[Girl Who Loves Reading: Potentially. There are World Nobles here. Celestial Dragons. They're considered untouchable. If anyone harms them, an Admiral gets dispatched immediately. The whole crew is on edge.]
Kazuma sat up straight and typed quickly.
[Advocate of Gender Equality: That sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. Please tell me Luffy didn't punch one already? I love the guy, but he's a total menace!]
There was a long pause.
[Girl Who Loves Reading: ...I'm not going to lie to you. Luffy's self-restraint is not his strongest quality.]
[Flash Goddess: Oh no.]
[Girl Who Loves Reading: Exactly. We're all trying to keep him away from the Celestial Dragons, but this is Luffy we're talking about. If he sees someone being hurt or abused, he won't just stand by. Even if it means challenging the World Government itself.]
[Heaven's Wrath: That's admirable but tactically inadvisable.]
[Girl Who Loves Reading: We know. Believe me, we know. But that's who Luffy is. He doesn't compromise on his values, no matter the consequences.]
[The Fool: Sometimes the right choice and the smart choice aren't the same thing.]
[Girl Who Loves Reading: Exactly. We're just hoping we can get through this without incident.]
Through my Omniscience, I could see the timeline already shifting.
Luffy would punch a Celestial Dragon, that was practically inevitable given his personality. But interestingly, the aftermath would be different.
Instead of being scattered across the world by Bartholomew Kuma, the crew would mostly stay together. All except Luffy himself, who would end up... somewhere else. Amazon Lily, if I was reading the threads correctly. That would be interesting.
But I kept that knowledge to myself.
[Last Master of Humanity: I hope everything works out! We're all rooting for you!]
Ritsuka was genuinely concerned, her usual optimism tempered with worry. She had her own problems, after all.
[Heaven's Wrath: How is your situation, Ritsuka? The timeline anomalies in your world seemed extensive last time I checked.]
[Last Master of Humanity: It's... challenging. We were supposed to be fixing singularities, but now there are multiple Lost Belts that need to be addressed first. The timeline is way more complicated than it should be.]
She shifted on her bed, pulling her knees up to her chest. Mash moved closer, offering silent support.
[Last Master of Humanity: Sometimes it feels overwhelming. Like every time we fix one problem, three more appear. But we keep going. We have to. Too many people are depending on us.]
[Shadow Monarch: That's a lot of pressure for one person.]
[Last Master of Humanity: I'm not alone though! I have Mash, and all the Servants, Dr. Romani, and Da Vinci san, and everyone at Chaldea. We're in this together. That makes it bearable.]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: That's actually really mature and healthy considering it's you. Unlike my situation where I'm stuck with three disasters and a mountain of debt.]
[Flash Goddess: You really need to work on your perspective, Kazuma-kun.]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: My perspective is FINE. My perspective is accurately assessing that my life is a nightmare.]
Kazuma took another drink, slumping further into his couch. Aqua was still passed out in the background, drooling slightly.
[Heaven's Wrath: Perhaps focus on the positives. You defeated a Demon King general. That's a significant accomplishment.]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: The "positive" is that I'm alive to suffer through more debt and more chaos. Yay. So positive.]
[Shadow Monarch: You're the most pessimistic "hero" I've ever encountered.]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: I'M NOT A HERO. I'm a victim of circumstance forced into heroic situations against my will!]
[The Fool: Aren't we all, in some way?]
That brought a moment of silence to the chat. Klein had a point, none of them had chosen their circumstances, really. They were all just doing their best with the situations they'd found themselves in.
[Girl Who Loves Reading: I think that's what makes us friends. We're all struggling with impossible situations, but at least we can struggle together.]
[Last Master of Humanity: That's beautifully put, Robin-san!]
[Flash Goddess: Agreed! No matter what happens in our worlds, we have each other here!]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: That's surprisingly wholesome. I'm uncomfortable with this level of emotional sincerity.]
[Heaven's Wrath: Noted. Adjusting conversation back to complaints and sarcasm.]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: Thank you! Much better.]
Yoruichi grinned at her device. For all his complaining, she could tell Kazuma was genuinely touched by the sentiment.
[Flash Goddess: My world has been quiet lately. Almost boring by comparison. Nothing apocalyptic or debt-inducing.]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: Can we trade? Please? I'll give you Aqua. She's technically a goddess. That seems like a fair exchange.]
[Flash Goddess: I'm not sure the Soul Society could handle Aqua-san.]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: Nobody can handle Aqua. That's the problem.]
[Heaven's Wrath: Your world is fortunate to be in a period of relative stability, Yoruichi. Cherish it while it lasts.]
[Flash Goddess: That sounds ominous. Are you saying something bad is coming?]
[Heaven's Wrath: All timelines have their moments of crisis. Yours will come eventually. For now, enjoy the peace.]
I could see the threads of her future. Aizen's betrayal, the Visored's situation that had already occurred fifty years ago, the eventual arrival of Ichigo Kurosaki still a century away. But there was no need to burden her with that knowledge now.
[The Fool: Speaking of the future, has anyone else noticed how our worlds seem to be... interconnected somehow? Through this chat?]
[Shadow Monarch: What do you mean?]
[The Fool: Just an observation. We're all from different realities, different dimensional planes, yet we can communicate instantly.
And sometimes, information shared here seems to influence events in our worlds. Not directly, but subtly.]
[Heaven's Wrath: The chat system exists outside normal spacetime. It creates bridges between dimensions that wouldn't naturally connect. Some information bleed is inevitable.]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: Are you saying that us talking here could change our futures?]
[Heaven's Wrath: Potentially. Nothing major, but small divergences accumulate. Your futures aren't fixed, they're probabilistic outcomes that shift based on choices and information.]
[Last Master of Humanity: That's both exciting and terrifying.]
[Girl Who Loves Reading: It means we have agency though. Our choices matter. The future isn't predetermined.]
[Shadow Monarch: That's... actually comforting. I was worried everything was set in stone.]
Jin Woo looked visibly relieved. If the future wasn't fixed, maybe he could avoid some of the nightmare scenarios his life seemed to be heading toward.
[Advocate of Gender Equality: Okay, so hypothetically speaking, if someone knew bad things were coming, they could help people avoid them? Without, like, directly spoiling everything?]
[Heaven's Wrath: Hypothetically, yes. Subtle guidance rather than explicit revelation. Why do you ask?]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: No reason. Just curious about theoretical ethical frameworks regarding foreknowledge and intervention.]
I could sense Kazuma's true intention. He'd been privately messaging some of the others, dropping hints about potential dangers without revealing too much. Trying to help in his own awkward way.
[The Fool: That's surprisingly thoughtful of you, Kuzuma.]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just asking theoretical questions... Wait a minute! Fuck you Klein! I'll punch your face next time I see you! You aren't OP yet! I can kick your ass.]
[Flash Goddess: Sure you can. We believe you completely.]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: I'm being serious!]
[Shadow Monarch: Whatever you say, Mr. Theoretical.]
[The Fool: I didn't even have to retort myself. That was just...sad.]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: I hate you all.]
Kazuma sputtered, typing furiously, but the group had already moved on to teasing him good-naturedly.
[Last Master of Humanity: This is nice. Even when our worlds are chaotic, we have this place. These conversations.]
[Girl Who Loves Reading: Agreed. It's like a small reprieve from our chaotic lives.]
[Heaven's Wrath: I find these interactions valuable. They provide perspective I lack on my own. Emotional context I'm still learning to process.]
[Flash Goddess: That's the sweetest thing you've said, Kokabiel-san!]
[Heaven's Wrath: Was it? I was attempting to express gratitude but wasn't certain if the phrasing was appropriate.]
[The Fool: It was perfect. We understand what you meant.]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: Look at us, being all supportive and friendly. This is disgustingly wholesome. I need another drink.]
[Shadow Monarch: It's barely afternoon for you.]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: Your point being?]
[Last Master of Humanity: Maybe you should take it easy on the drinking, Kazuma-san...]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: Maybe you should try living with Aqua for a week and then judge my coping mechanisms.]
[Flash Goddess: Fair point.]
The conversation continued for another hour, drifting between topics. training methods, magical theory, complaints about their respective worlds, occasional jokes at each other's expense. It was comfortable, familiar, the kind of easy interaction that came from genuine friendship.
I found myself smiling naturally, without conscious effort. The sensation was still strange but no longer uncomfortable.
Progress, I thought. Slow, incremental, but real.
[Heaven's Wrath: I need to go. I need to pretend to sleep atleast if I'm being a human. I will have to travel again tomorrow.]
[Last Master of Humanity: Where are you going?]
[Heaven's Wrath: Another village. I have healed mostly everyone here. I'll go help some others.]
[Girl Who Loves Reading: That's really kind of you. Good luck, Kokabiel-san.]
[The Fool: May your journey be fruitful. Come back to us whole.]
[Shadow Monarch: Stay safe out there. And hey... thanks. For everything.]
[Advocate of Gender Equality: Don't do anything stupid. We need someone competent in this group to balance out my disasters.]
[Flash Goddess: We'll miss you! Keep us updated!]
[Last Master of Humanity: Come back to chat often! We want to hear about your experiences!]
[Heaven's Wrath: I will. Thank you. All of you. For being here. For caring. For helping me remember what being normal feels like.]
[Advocate of gender Equality: .... Dude... We are anything but Normal.]
[Shadow Monarch: You just had to ruin it, Kuzuma.]
[Advocate of gender Equality: Oi!]
I closed the chat, that warm feeling still present in my chest. Faint, fragile, but undeniably real.
Tomorrow, I would leave this village. Tomorrow, I would continue my journey to another place, into limitation and vulnerability and hopefully, eventually, into genuine emotional recovery.
But tonight, I had this. Friends across dimensions, each struggling with their own impossibilities, all supporting each other through the chaos.
For now, it was enough.
*****
No chapter tomorrow. Already posted 4 chapters in 2 days.
Enjoy while it lasts, I'm pretty sure I'm leaving this site next month.