The scene that unfolded as the door opened was somewhat surreal. Satin quickly realized why.
‘There are no corners.’
The floor and walls blended seamlessly, and the walls converged at the ceiling, forming a small point. It was a room shaped like a giant water droplet.
As Satin hesitantly entered, Cain followed closely behind. The door closed automatically behind them.
‘Where is the light coming from?’
He glanced around but couldn’t find any source of light. Perhaps it was the formless light, rather than the room’s shape, that made the scene feel so unreal. The room was bright all around, and shadows cast in every direction.
In this sacred space, there were already people present: the High Priest, Rita, and Edward. The three stood around a circular table that was waist-high. The table wasn’t large, so they weren’t far apart.
“You’ve arrived,” the High Priest said with a gentle smile, looking at Satin, who awkwardly smiled back.
“Yes, we should have come yesterday. I apologize.”
“No worries. Please, come this way.”
Following the High Priest’s gesture, Satin cautiously approached the circular table. The three who had arrived earlier had left space for two more people. Satin took his place, and Cain stood next to him.
‘It feels like an interrogation room…’
Although Satin knew these people weren’t here to ask him difficult questions, he felt a bit tense.
Noticing this, Rita asked, “Satin, are you nervous? You look very pale.”
“I’m not sure,” Satin replied, scratching his cheek evasively. Rita leaned in to get a better look at his face, prompting Edward to lightly chide her.
“It’s just the light making him look pale. You look quite pale too, Rita.”
“Oh, really?”
“And Satin—” Edward started to say something but stopped. Seeing his visibly awkward expression, Satin realized that Rita and Edward were pretending not to know about yesterday’s incident.
Apologizing now would only make things more awkward.
‘It’s better to talk about that later, outside.’
Once the initial greetings were exchanged, the High Priest placed his hands on the circular table. Against the pure white walls, the old man’s figure seemed almost mystical.
With a solemn expression, the High Priest began, “This is the Chamber of Whispers.”
The Chamber of Whispers—the name seemed significant, but Satin couldn’t grasp its meaning. He silently nodded. Cain, too, was intently watching the High Priest’s hands, trying to look serious.
“God sees all, and yet sees none. Therefore, prayers are sometimes answered, but mostly they are not. God does not intend most things.”
If that were true, Satin thought, the existence of such a god would be questionable. His thoughts must have shown on his face because the High Priest smiled faintly. Satin quickly looked down, feigning indifference.
“Very rarely, there are things that God intends, but their meaning is often beyond human comprehension.”
This was likely a reference to the appearance of the demon lord and the hero. Satin wanted to clear his throat but held back, swallowing instead.
“Though perhaps someone might understand.”
The High Priest smiled at Satin’s startled reaction but said nothing more.
“Shall we offer our prayers to God?”
And in the next moment, Satin found himself somewhere else.
***
—Welcome! Higher-dimensional being! We welcome you!
Fireworks exploded, and fanfares blared. The world was a kaleidoscope of colors. Floating petals sparkled so brightly they hurt his eyes.
Satin rubbed his eyes and looked ahead. The Chamber of Whispers, which had been entirely white, seemed to have vanished.
‘Where am I?’
Before he could even voice his question, an answer came.
—This is your consciousness realm.
‘Consciousness realm?’
Satin found himself repeating the words, then realized with a start that his thoughts were being read. He was astonished not only by this but also by the fact that he couldn’t pinpoint where the voice was coming from.
‘Where are you speaking from?’
—We are everywhere and nowhere. That is our nature.
“We?”
The question slipped out, even though he knew he only needed to think it. The voice responded calmly.
—Surely you didn’t think God was singular? Though, it’s not entirely wrong to say we are one.
“God…”
The realization that a real god was present made Satin tense up.
Yet, strangely, he felt no fear in this bizarre situation. Instead, he felt an inexplicable calm. As soon as he wondered why, the god responded.
—It has to be this way. That is our nature.
“What do you mean by ‘our nature’…?”
—The name ‘god’ is just a label. We are more like a collective consciousness, both god and world. We are within everyone, yet no one is aware of us. Thus, we can do anything, yet we can do nothing. We are with you now, yet it is as if we are not, so there is no need to fear.
“It seems like you can do something,” Satin said, cautiously adding a respectful tone.
—A keen observation. There are things we are permitted to do, though most are incomprehensible. We can send down a demon lord or create monsters, but these are like actions from a storybook.
“I see…”
Satin felt he almost understood, but he kept his thoughts to himself. He doubted the god of this world would be pleased to know that this world was a manifestation of his sister’s imagination.
However, even without saying it, the god read Satin’s thoughts.
—There is no shame in it. All worlds manifest in such a way. Someone with consciousness imagines, and when they are qualified, a world is born. We revere the one who gave birth to us. Having such qualifications is still beyond our reach.
“Does my sister know that she created you?” Satin asked, his words feeling strange on his tongue. He wondered if it was appropriate to refer to his sister in this way or to call this being a god. He wasn’t sure if he was using the right honorifics.
The god laughed, though no sound was heard. It was more of a feeling, like a faint breeze passing by.
—In a way, we are her replica.
“What?” Satin blurted out.
—Since we were created based on her consciousness, it is natural. We know better than anyone why she created this world.
“Then…”
The floating petals returned, filling the air with a kaleidoscope of colors. An indescribable fragrance, unlike any flower or honey, filled the air, soothing Satin’s confusion. He felt as if he were being held tightly in someone’s embrace.
A gentle voice whispered in his ear.
—That is why we feel affection for you and have a desire to watch over you carefully, though it is difficult.
“But that’s not your feeling…”
—Indeed. This is the feeling of the one who created us. A deep love for you.
“My sister’s feelings.”
The calm he felt was shattered. There was so much he wanted to say, but he couldn’t prioritize his thoughts. He wasn’t even sure if the words rising in his throat were necessary.
The voice seemed to understand his turmoil.
—A love that never changes. Truly remarkable.
Suddenly, emotions welled up within him.
To think there was a being that knew his sister’s heart. After falling into this world, he had found no trace of her anywhere. But here, he found it.
Memories rushed through his mind—familiar yet strange stories, unexpected events, and a place he had sought but that didn’t feel like home. He had always doubted if something had gone wrong.
If he could have seen his sister one last time, he wouldn’t have come to this distant place. He would have stayed in the world where he was born, waiting for death.
“My sister, I…”
‘I missed her so much that I didn’t want to live.’
“I thought I had no regrets.”
To find myself here and encounter a being that knows my sister.
Is this joy? Or is it sorrow? Resentment? Futility?
—We cannot hear directly from her, but we dare to guess what she might want to say to you now. The thoughts she had in the moment she left you. Would you like to hear them?
Would I like to hear them? Of course. If I could hear even a fleeting breath from my sister, there would be nothing I couldn’t do.
Again, an uncertain presence made itself known. Laughter.
And then, my sister appeared.
—Life is precious, Won-oh.
It was truly her. The familiar face, the familiar clothes. Her voice, her expression, even her gestures were so familiar, yet I couldn’t reach out. I feared she might vanish.
—Don’t think about dying so easily. Don’t even think that death is an option. You promised to be a good person.
“I, I am still not a good person…”
Suddenly, I realized I had forgotten what my sister looked like in her final moments. Not the image of her lying still, but her smiling, talking, and moving. I had never tried to recall it, and so I had forgotten.
My body crumpled to the ground. Even knowing this was just an imitation, I wept at her feet.
“I, I had no choice…”
The excuses poured out.
Our farewell had been abrupt, with no time for proper goodbyes. I couldn’t grasp what had happened. I couldn’t believe any of it. Before I could process my feelings, I had journeyed to this distant world. I hadn’t had the chance to mourn her. Years had passed, and still…
This wasn’t the real her. My sister was gone forever, and I finally accepted it.
Yet…
“Why, why only now? Why did you leave me alone all this time?”
—Do not be afraid. Neither of being alone nor of being with others.
“But…”
—Now, no evil can pursue you.
Her hand stroked my hair. It wasn’t real; there was no warmth. Yet, it felt comforting. The warmth spread through my hair, my skin, my closed eyelids, and into my throat as I swallowed my sobs.
Emotions beyond words or thoughts washed over me. This wasn’t resentment. It wasn’t futility.
My sister fell silent, giving me time to compose myself. Our eyes met one last time.
A whirlwind of colorful petals swirled around us. The immense storm seemed to move in slow motion. I closed my eyes briefly, and when I opened them, she was gone.
Yet, the empty space didn’t feel hollow. My heart was full. This place no longer felt unfamiliar.
After the surge of emotions subsided, I finally spoke.
“…Thank you.”
The uncertain presence returned, and the voice spoke again.
—Now, shall we discuss what we need to?
