#47. Border

“Then…”

The high-ranking official begins to speak.

Ah, the ‘high-ranking official’ I’m referring to is truly sitting in a high place, hence the expression.

The judge’s bench is so high. It’s uncomfortable to have to look up so far that my neck hurts.

Your Honor, could you perhaps come down a bit?

“From this moment forward, the trial regarding ‘Interference with the Mortal Plane’ begins.”

Indeed.

Come to think of it, his position itself is also high.

After all, he is the only one who can judge a god.

“The accused, Akasha.”

The girl with silver hair sighed.

“A sinner, am I? A sinner!”

After slaving away in the Library for eons, a few meddlesome acts warrant a sinner’s brand?

Akasha raised her head, a monumental grievance festering within.

“This is unjust.”

“What injustice do you speak of?”

“It was but a single instance of intervention. Nothing of such consequence. It leaves the flowing future untouched, so why should I be punished?”

The austere Judge furrowed his brow.

Seemed she spoke the truth, yet something had clearly rubbed him the wrong way.

“Do you truly believe that?”

“…”

“Divine intervention is often called a miracle. As such, it is not included in the ‘foretold’ future. Every action of yours mars that future.”

“I know that. But as I said, it was but once…”

“Akasha.”

A whoosh.

An overwhelming pressure descended upon Akasha. Her legs nearly buckled.

“Do you truly think it was only once?”

“…? Pardon?”

“I ask again. Do you truly think it was only once?”

Incomprehensible.

Akasha was certain she interfered in the Mortal Realm no more than once.

Only once, during the Mind Flayer Incident–.

“Ah.”

“You realize now?”

From a certain point, she, Akasha, not the chatbot, stayed with Rain. Because she chose to abandon her acting job in the middle of it.

If the standard for intervention was not ‘Descent’ but something broader…

“You should not have revealed your identity, Akasha. From the moment you did, Rain’s future became obscured.”

From the moment she revealed herself, every interaction was a form of ‘intervention.’

Though it was merely a matter of weeks, that human’s time had been saturated with miracles.

No wonder the future became unreadable.

“Do you understand what I’m saying?”

In short, Rain Ortiz had become a mass of variables.

Akasha’s fault.

“…I deliver the sentence.”

The sound of the gavel falling.

“Wait, Judge.”

“Akasha, Overseer of the World Library.”

“Please, call for the Goddess.”

“I hereby decree banishment to the Human Realm.”

“Wait!”

A magic circle bloomed beneath her feet. Akasha screamed until the very end, but her voice could no longer resonate within the Celestial Realm.

When I came to, I was in some city. Teeming with humans, a perfect confirmation of reality.

“Ah…”

The fall of a divine being is more common than you’d think.

Gods aren’t infallible, after all. They can break the rules anytime.

Truth be told, Akasha had always thought the rules were too damn strict. Banishing folks for next to nothing, the Celestial Judiciary looked more like a dictatorship.

Never imagined she’d be the target, though. Akasha’s job was just organizing books.

“Shit.”

Do you know how it feels, a fallen being looking up at the sky?

Just seconds ago, I lived up there. Now, I have to crane my neck just to cast a glance.

“Seriously? You’re sending me off like this?”

No.

No…

“Is this how you handle things?”

You exploited my labor for decades, practically devoiding me of any self , and you toss me out for a single mistake?

Have you no conscience?

“…”

Plenty of complaints, but no one to voice them to.

Or rather, they’re too high up now, out of reach.

Akasha, utterly stunned, could only stare at the sky. She stayed like that for hours.

“Hey.”

Just as her neck began to stiffen.

Someone spoke to Akasha.

Akasha lowers her head. Gazes at the people surrounding her.

“What are you?”

Soldiers in armor.

“…Heh.”

Realization 2.0, belatedly hitting.

Exile to the human realm means a demotion in species.

Akasha, once decidedly a ‘god,’ was now human.

“Come with us quietly.”

The Celestial banishment system isn’t exactly friendly.

Akasha was just a human now, with no identity to speak of.

A strange-looking foreigner standing in one place for hours, naturally suspicious.

And that’s how Akasha ended up in the custody of the Aylon Kingdom.

Huh?

Wait, hold on. Something’s off, isn’t it?

This explanation hardly justifies Akasha’s act of impersonation.

“…b*stards.”

Naturally, Akasha was interrogated the moment she was captured.

It couldn’t be helped that suspicions grew when someone seems to have fallen right out of the sky.

What, then, was to be done? Was she to remain imprisoned like this?

Akasha, of course, could not abide such a fate.

She decided to exploit a peculiar trait of the Kingdom of Aylon. A nation of prodigies, they were said to be; she reasoned that offering knowledge would earn her liberation in return.

It was precisely that judgment that proved problematic.

“How did you come to know this?”

The Kingdom of Aylon was often depicted by scholars as a land brimming with dreams and promise, but the reality was far from idyllic.

A vile ideology, one that sought to monopolize all knowledge. To such beings, a ‘genius without pedigree’ was but easy prey.

She received no decent treatment.

Reduced to nothing more than a calculating machine.

Akasha endured this for months.

She attempted escape on her own.

A ‘mere’ mortal, Akasha had lost all her power and could barely wield even simple magics; all attempts ended in failure.

Her requests for negotiation were consistently denied.

If she did not comply with their demands, she was denied food.

Compliance was her only option.

Yet, she refused to surrender hope of escape, likely owing to the glory she once held as a being upon the throne of the Gods.

Time flowed, it continued to flow.

Akasha ultimately discovered a new path.

“No matter how bothersome, he’s bound to come.”

If she could not escape alone, she would enlist the aid of another.

And in the human realm, there was but one person Akasha could trust.

“You wouldn’t let an imposter run rampant, would you?”

I guarantee it.

That b*stard will understand my intentions.

*

Fuck, who is it?

[ This question cannot be answered. ]

Her mind stalled at the sight of the refusal message, unseen for ages.

It appeared so suddenly that she was left utterly bewildered.

What in the world was going on?

‘Then tell me why that b*stard became an imposter.’

[ This question cannot be answered. ]

‘…Is there even a way to catch the imposter?’

[ This question cannot be answered. ]

?

No.

“Is something the matter?”

Had her condition seemed strange? Meriel asked, her tone laced with concern.

“Huh? No, it’s just…”

Of course, she could only offer a vague reply.

I couldn’t possibly admit that the ChatGPT inside me wasn’t providing answers.

“It’s nothing.”

Ah, my head is in knots.

If I remember correctly, the only information ChatGPT can’t access is that of the Celestial Realm.

Which means something celestial is involved…

“…”

How would I know anything about celestial matters?

There’s one piece of knowledge I could never obtain no matter what, and that’s the knowledge of the Celestial Realm.

A place I’ve never been. No related books remain, and it’s treated as forbidden knowledge, so even ChatGPT won’t reveal it.

If Akasha were here, he might have given me a hint, but he’s not around at the moment.

“….Hmm?”

Could it be?

The impersonator isn’t Akasha, is he?

“…”

Haha.

Listen to me.

Coming up with the most innovative nonsense.

Why would he be here? He’s probably working in the library.

I abandon the thought.

There’s no answer to be found anyway, so there’s no point in worrying about it.

I close my eyes amidst the rocking of the carriage.

Might as well get some sleep.

.

.

.

“Rain.”

“……”

“Rain, wake up.”

“….Sseup.”

“We’re at the border.”

I must have been severely sleep-deprived lately. It felt like mere seconds after closing my eyes, and I’d already fallen asleep.

I wipe the drool from my mouth and smooth down my hair. Still half-dreaming, I step out of the carriage.

“What’s the itinerary?”

“Ah, Professor Meriel didn’t hear about it yet, did she?”

Meriel, who had urgently joined us today, hadn’t yet been given the schedule.

I briefly explained the tasks ahead.

“Before arriving at the capital, we’ll be staying in each village for a short time, conducting investigations.”

“Investigations?”

“We need to gather information about that genius who recently appeared. After all, we can’t learn much from just the newspapers. Since we don’t know what cards the other side is holding, we should gather as much information as possible, too.”

“…But is it really necessary? We already have all the data we need to prove our case.”

“Well, yes, I suppose so.”

Mariel’s question was valid. Frankly, this incident barely qualified as one.

Just showing them a few documents and smoothing things over with some words would likely resolve it; a mere trifle, if anything.

Still, I was uneasy. Not a fear rooted in reason, but unease nonetheless. It felt strange that those supposedly clever fellows were acting so dim.

“Just trust me for now. It’s a measure that can’t possibly hurt.”

“Hmm, alright.”

“First, let’s cross the border.”

Identity Check.

The easiest part of this journey.

“Purpose of visit?”

“We’ve received an invitation. Here’s the letter.”

“Hm? This is…”

The guard scrutinized the invitation.

And then, he aimed a spear at us.

“Don’t move!”

“……?”

Really.

I can’t make sense of this.

Aylone, what on earth are you planning?