A woman clutching a small piece of merchandise tightly in her hand,
Monica, pressed forward through the unending dark fog.
She had no way of knowing if this was the right path or if her will alone could lead her out of this place, but she pressed on nonetheless.
Holding onto that badge gave her the comforting illusion that the Curator, who had cherished her, was still protecting her. With this feeling, she managed to endure the fear of the unknown.
With her heart full of courage, she drove away the fear and took bold, determined steps forward.
Step by step,
She kept moving forward.
“This place is...”
The previously featureless darkness began to take shape.
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“No way...”
Far in the distance, faint black outlines became visible.
There was something oddly familiar about them...
“This can’t be...”
Monica broke into a run.
She recognized this landscape she had seen countless times before. But its familiarity made it feel all the more foreign.
She was certain now.
“Akashic... Archive...”
Her eyes, now adjusted to the darkness, confirmed it: this was a place she had encountered countless times in the game.
[Akashic Archive]
This was the domain managed by the Curator she adored and the very place where he met his tragic end.
“This is strange...”
However, it wasn’t quite as she remembered.
The bright, radiant Archive she knew was now shrouded in darkness, its once-vivid lights extinguished.
It looked as if it had been abandoned, left untouched after the Curator’s death.
With a look of growing anxiety, Monica wandered around the desolate space.
Suddenly,
A soft, misty glow began to coalesce into a humanoid figure, and a melodic voice rang out.
“Well, this is unusual.”
“!”
Monica’s eyes widened as her head slowly turned toward the source of the voice.
“A visitor, you say.”
She couldn’t believe what she was seeing.
It was him.
It had to be him.
The one she loved so deeply, the one she adored above all else.
But this wasn’t the fragmentary, mechanical version of him from the game.
This was the real thing—alive and moving.
A young boy with black hair sat perched on the edge of a desk.
“I am the Curator of this Archive. And you are?”
The boy smiled.
Her most beloved character, alive and right in front of her!
Monica felt as though her heart might stop.
She opened her mouth to speak.
She wanted to tell him.
To say she thought he was dead. That she missed him. That she loved him.
But no words came out, as if her throat had closed up.
The boy tilted his head slightly, folding his arms and resting his chin on his hand.
“Monica, is it?”
Thud!
Monica clutched her chest.
Her beloved saying her name—out loud!
Her heart couldn’t handle it.
Though she had encountered his NPC in the game many times, this felt utterly different, incomparable.
With a faint burst of smoke, the boy’s figure vanished,
Only to reappear right in front of her.
“This aura... Courage? You’re an Apostle of Courage? How curious.”
He brought his thumb and forefinger to her chin.
“Let’s see... A memorial for me, you say?”
“Hm, hm.”
The boy nodded as though reading her memories, his expression contemplative.
The faint, sweet scent emanating from him caused Monica’s face to flush.
“I see. You remembered me and mourned for me. Thank you.”
After delving into her thoughts for what felt like an eternity, the boy placed his hand atop her head and gently patted her.
“...Ehehe...”
Monica’s entire body tingled with a strange warmth at the unexpected gesture.
Under normal circumstances, her personality would have led her to shout, “How dare you!” and perhaps even throw him over her shoulder. But now, she simply basked in the moment.
“But something is peculiar,” the boy said, tilting his head.
“Why is it... that your memories depict me as being romantically involved with a man?”
“...What?”
“I don’t love men romantically.”
Displeasure and a hint of revulsion crossed the boy’s face.
“To think someone would fabricate such lies about me and spread them... Unforgivable.”
“N-no, that’s not it! That’s not what I meant!”
Monica’s mind raced.
“I need to find out who’s responsible for these falsehoods.”
The boy reached his hand toward her again.
“W-wait a moment!”
Monica stepped back, panic surging through her.
If he read all of her memories...
If he saw everything she had done until now...
Would he hate her? Would he despise her?
The anger and disgust he had just displayed—
If those emotions were directed at her, she wouldn’t be able to bear it.
Not being hated by him.
Even with the power of Courage, she couldn’t face such a horrifying possibility.
“It’s... It’s bromance!”
“...Bromance?”
The boy raised an eyebrow.
Under normal circumstances, Monica would have launched into an enthusiastic explanation of bromance, delving into her deep interest in the subject.
But the thought of being hated by the boy shattered her resolve.
Her entire worldview crumbled.
In a desperate attempt to salvage the situation, Monica concocted a plan.
“T-that! It’s because I used a male deputy curator avatar while playing the game! I swear I’ve never thought of you in any strange way! Actually, it’s those awful people at the Deputy Curators’ Association—they’re the ones spreading such distortions! I’ve infiltrated their ranks out of love and devotion to you, trying to root out those lies!”
Despite being the Vice President of the Association herself, Monica threw it under the bus in her effort to gain her favorite’s approval.
“Is that so?”
“Yes! And most importantly, those ridiculous rumors are nothing but slander! I would never be swayed by such nonsense!”
Watching Monica fluster and stumble over her words, the boy chuckled softly.
“Don’t worry. I can sense the deep affection within you.”
“...Huh?”
“This place is my mental realm, my prison. Not just anyone can enter here.”
“Prison...”
The boy spread his arms wide as Monica glanced around.
“Only those who feel exceptionally strong emotions toward me—intensely positive ones—can reach this place. You are one such person.”
!!
So that’s why!
Only she, among all those in the Deputy Curators’ Association, had been recognized!
“D-does that mean... I love you more than anyone else? More than any of your fans?”
Monica’s face lit with a feverish intensity.
“...”
The boy hesitated, seemingly at a loss for words.
After regaining his composure, he finally replied, “Well... you could call it love, but it’s more like the positive, intense feelings people have toward me provide power. That strength fuels my revival. It’s akin to faith toward a deity.”
!!
The idea of her love entering him—how romantic!
The boy sighed, half-resigned.
“Anyway, you are more than qualified as my believer. If you weren’t already an Apostle of another god, I’d consider taking you as my own Apostle.”
“Then I’ll abandon my Constellation immediately to follow you—”
“Stop. Are you asking me to make an enemy of Courage?”
“...Ah.”
Stealing an Apostle from another Constellation was no trivial matter. It was tantamount to declaring war.
“It’s fine. Your affection is enough.”
The boy softly brushed her cheek.
“I do have one request, though.”
“Anything! Just say the word!”
“The false rumors about me are harmful to my revival.”
“...Harmful?”
“The more distorted and bizarre the perceptions of me become, the more my divine essence gets tainted. It greatly delays my return to reality.”
Thud!
A heavy weight dropped in Monica’s chest.
Had everything she done as Vice President of the Association actually been hindering him?
The boy, now clearly fatigued, waved his hand dismissively.
“So, could you stop those people who fabricate nonsense about me?”
“I-I can do it!”
“Can you?”
“Yes! As Vice President of the Deputy Curators’ Association, I can mobilize thousands with a single word!”
“Wait... weren’t you infiltrating the Association? That doesn’t add up...”
“Well, as long as you can eliminate the problem, it doesn’t matter.”
The boy shook his head, exhausted.
“Then I’ll leave it to you.”
“Of course... Everything will be as you wish.”
“Good. When you leave here, my Apostle will be waiting for you.”
“...Your Apostle?”
The thought of meeting someone else who held his favor made Monica’s blood boil.
“Follow their instructions. Can you do that?”
“Absolutely! Leave it to me!”
“Good. Then I’ll be counting on you.”
The boy placed his finger gently on her forehead.
“If you succeed, perhaps we’ll meet again.”
“R-really?!”
“Yes. So, do your best.”
Flash!
As if a film had snapped, Monica’s consciousness vanished.
The next moment, she found herself back in the real world, inside the shrine.
“Ah, you’re awake. Nice to meet you, Monica Bar.”
A golden-haired boy extended a hand toward her.
“I’m Rian, Apostle of the [Archive].”