Chapter 20 – The Forge of Divinity
The world dissolved around me, light unraveling into pure white.
For a few seconds, I floated in silence—weightless, unanchored, like a fragment of code adrift between realities. There was no wind, no sound, only a slow pulse of energy running through the void. It was the familiar transition space reserved for administrative transport—something only developers could trigger.
A second later, color returned.
The whiteness folded inward, bending space like glass, and I landed softly on a reflective surface that rippled under my feet.
When the light settled, I found myself standing in a vast chamber of mirrored crystal and glowing circuitry. It was immense—like standing inside the heart of a living computer. Streams of code fell from the ceiling in translucent ribbons, raining softly across the walls. Lines of light pulsed along the floor, forming patterns that looked half technological, half magical.
The air was perfectly still, yet humming with life.
I had seen pictures of this place once, hidden deep within old developer interviews and data leaks—the Developer's Hall. A zone supposedly restricted even from most staff. A myth among players, where legends said the administrators shaped reality itself.
And now, I was standing in it.
At the center of the hall, a single figure waited. Cloaked in shifting light, their body was only half visible—an outline more than a person, flickering between human shape and streams of data.
They turned toward me, the glow of their form reflecting off the mirrored floor.
Developer Entity 02: "Welcome, Traveler_R."
Their voice was layered, calm—digitally filtered, but unmistakably human beneath the distortion.
Developer Entity 02: "Congratulations once again on your victory. Your combat log was… remarkable."
I tilted my head, offering a small smile. "Thank you. It was a good challenge."
The developer chuckled softly. Even filtered through synthetic resonance, it was clear and human.
Developer Entity 02: "Now comes the part few ever experience—creation. As the Champion of Jotunheim, you have earned the right to design your own Divine-Class Item. Speak your wish, and we will manifest it."
For a while, I didn't answer.
The light beneath my feet shimmered with fractal patterns, reflecting the weight of my silence. My reflection wavered in the mirrored floor, showing not my human form, but the true silver sheen of my Doppelgänger self.
A Divine-Class Item. Something beyond the reach of normal players. A symbol of mastery—of creation itself.
I could make anything: a weapon, a relic, even an artifact that defied the rules of Yggdrasil.
And yet, as my mind played with endless possibilities, a single thought anchored me.
Destruction was easy. I'd done it a thousand times. What I wanted now… was control.
Something that could stop chaos without feeding it.
Finally, I raised my gaze. "I want something that doesn't destroy," I said quietly, "but binds."
The developer's glowing outline shifted slightly.
Developer Entity 02: "Elaborate."
"Not a sword. Not a staff. Just… chains," I said, flexing my fingers as if I could already feel the weight of them. "Thin ones. They link between my fingers—ten in total. Each can extend outward and lock onto a target. They don't deal damage; instead, they seize motion. The more the target resists, the stronger the hold. It freezes their data threads in place."
There was a pause—a small silence, as if the system itself was listening.
Developer Entity 02: "A restraint-type artifact. You wish to immobilize rather than kill."
"Yes," I said simply. "I already have too many ways to destroy. I want something that lets me control the fight completely."
The figure tilted their head. The light around them flickered in soft rhythm, like someone nodding thoughtfully.
Developer Entity 02: "A pragmatic request. Effective for one who commands illusion and mimicry."
They raised one hand, and the entire chamber reacted.
Lines of code spiraled upward from the floor, twisting into luminous threads. They intertwined in elegant, deliberate motion—forming ten slender strands of silver light.
The room dimmed, and the only illumination came from those ten glowing ribbons floating between us.
They drifted toward me, circling my hands. When they touched my fingers, they solidified—becoming delicate chains that looped between my knuckles like jewelry made of living light.
They pulsed faintly, synchronizing with my heartbeat.
When I moved my hand, they moved too, trailing soft arcs of light that faded into shadow.
Developer Entity 02: "The Shackles of Karmic Silence. A Divine-Class Item bound to your soul signature. Capable of manifesting ten ethereal chains that can restrain one or multiple targets. Targets above your level may resist, but only for seconds. Once bound, they cannot move, cast, or teleport."
I turned my hand, watching the chains glimmer across my fingers. They were beautiful—too beautiful for a weapon.
Traveler_R: "Perfect."
Developer Entity 02: "Its cooldown is one hour. Use it well. Remember—it is not meant to dominate, but to balance."
I nodded. "Understood."
For the first time, the light that cloaked them softened. The figure folded their arms, posture shifting from divine poise to something unmistakably human.
Developer Entity 02: "You know, most champions ask for power. Damage multipliers, unbreakable armor, weapons that consume souls. You're the first in a long time to ask for restraint."
I smiled faintly. "Because power without control is just noise. And I like quiet victories."
That made the developer laugh—a small, genuine sound.
Developer Entity 02: "Spoken like a real illusionist."
They turned slightly, interacting with something invisible—an interface only they could see.
Lines of golden light rose across the chamber as they spoke again.
Developer Entity 02: "There is one more thing. As the overall victor of the World Tournament, you are entitled to a secondary reward."
The air before me thickened.
From the center of the hall, a small crystal sphere materialized—clear as glass, yet radiating power so dense that the world seemed to bend around it.
It floated into my hand with weight that wasn't physical but conceptual.
Developer Entity 02: "A World-Class Item. One that can only be used once."
I blinked, stunned. "You're giving me a real WCI?"
The developer nodded, light flickering softly.
Developer Entity 02: "Yes. But unlike others, this one has no form. It is a catalyst. When invoked, it amplifies one of your unique abilities—any ability except your Ultimate Skill, World Break. Once used, it will vanish forever."
I rolled the orb in my palm. Inside, faint light pulsed like a heartbeat.
Traveler_R: "So it's… potential, made solid."
Developer Entity 02: "Exactly. A tool of evolution, not destruction."
The silence that followed was heavy, yet not uncomfortable. It was the silence of creation—the pause before a universe is born.
Finally, the developer spoke again, voice quieter.
Developer Entity 02: "You've done well, Traveler_R. But remember this—your journey is not over. What you've seen of Yggdrasil… it's only a fragment. Less than fifteen percent of its true structure."
I frowned. "Fifteen percent? Are you serious?"
Developer Entity 02: "Quite. The rest remains hidden—worlds within worlds, sub-realms beneath the roots of the World Tree, systems we've buried for players to find. You're one of the few who looked beyond mechanics and saw design."
They paused, their tone softening further. The distortion in their voice faded slightly, revealing the human warmth behind it.
Developer Entity 02: "Keep doing that. The more you uncover, the more Yggdrasil itself will grow. That's what this game was built for—curiosity, not conquest."
I hesitated, then nodded slowly. "Then I'll keep looking. That's what I do best."
Developer Entity 02: "Good. You're precisely the kind of player this world was made for."
The crystal orb in my hand pulsed, reacting to my heartbeat. The chains around my fingers shimmered faintly, resonating with it—like they recognized their sibling in power.
For a moment, the chamber dimmed, and I could hear the faint hum of Yggdrasil's living code all around me. It sounded almost like wind through trees—calm, ancient, alive.
The developer watched me quietly.
Developer Entity 02: "You know… we used to have players like you all the time."
I looked up. "Used to?"
Developer Entity 02: "Yes. Before everything became about rankings and DPS charts. Before worlds turned into battlegrounds of numbers instead of imagination."
Their voice grew softer. "You remind me of why we built this place in the first place."
Something about the tone struck me. For the first time, the 'Entity' before me didn't sound like a system administrator. They sounded like a person—a creator proud and tired at once.
Traveler_R: "Then maybe it's good I'm still here to keep breaking things."
They laughed, the sound echoing warmly through the crystal hall.
Developer Entity 02: "Please, don't break too much. We still have maintenance cycles."
"I'll try not to."
Developer Entity 02: "That's not reassuring."
We both laughed this time.
Eventually, their tone turned more professional again.
Developer Entity 02: "Now, Traveler_R. One last thing before you go."
They extended a hand. A projection appeared beside me—my character file, shimmering in transparent panels of light. My stats, class trees, even fragments of system logs.
Developer Entity 02: "You understand what you've done, don't you?"
I blinked. "Won a tournament?"
Developer Entity 02: "No. You've demonstrated that the game can evolve with a player, not just around them. That's not supposed to happen. Systems learn from repetition, but they don't adapt creatively. You… made the system question its own logic."
For a moment, I didn't know how to reply.
Traveler_R: "You make it sound like I broke the game."
Developer Entity 02: "Not broke. Taught."
They smiled faintly. "HIME's data-processing subroutine was built for pattern learning, correct?"
"Yeah."
Developer Entity 02: "Then I suspect she learned more than you realize. Don't worry—she's perfectly within system boundaries. But you may find her responses… more human, as time passes."
My chest tightened slightly, though I didn't let it show.
Traveler_R: "Then I'll keep her safe. She's… part of me."
Developer Entity 02: "I know. And that's why I'm giving you this."
They flicked a hand, and a small packet of code—no larger than a spark—floated toward me.
Developer Entity 02: "A developer's key. One-time administrative clearance. It lets you access any sealed area once. After that, it will dissolve."
I stared at the flickering light hovering above my palm. "Why give me this?"
Developer Entity 02: "Because every world needs someone who keeps asking questions. Consider it an invitation—to look deeper."
The light in the chamber began to dim, a gentle signal that our session was ending.
The developer's form flickered, becoming fainter.
Developer Entity 02: "Traveler_R—Ren, right?"
My breath caught. "You… know my name?"
Developer Entity 02: "Of course. You registered it years ago. Don't worry, I'm not here to invade your privacy. I just wanted to remind you that behind every avatar, every illusion, there's still a human being. Don't lose that."
I stared at them for a moment, words caught in my throat. Then I nodded slowly. "I'll try not to."
Developer Entity 02: "Good. Then our work here is done."
They took a step back, folding their hands behind them.
Developer Entity 02: "Traveler_R—the game may end, but curiosity never should. Keep seeking beyond what's shown. The world always rewards those who ask why."
I smiled faintly. "Then I'll keep breaking the rules. Gently."
They chuckled one last time.
Developer Entity 02: "As long as you understand them first."
The light enveloped me again, dissolving the chamber into cascading lines of code.
The world blurred, colors bleeding into each other. Then came the pull—the familiar tug of teleportation.
When vision returned, I was standing beneath the open sky of Jotunheim.
The stars shimmered like scattered gems above the snowy expanse. The cold wind brushed against my face, carrying the scent of frost and ozone.
In my right hand, the crystal orb glowed softly, faint light pulsing like a living heart.
On my fingers, ten silver chains shimmered faintly, catching the starlight like liquid moonfire.
For a long while, I just stood there, watching them glimmer.
The world felt different now. Not bigger—but deeper. Every gust of wind, every flicker of aurora, felt connected to something unseen.
For the first time since I'd entered Yggdrasil, I didn't feel like a ghost passing through the data.
I felt like I'd finally left a mark—small, invisible maybe, but mine.
HIME: "Ren-sama, are you satisfied with the outcome?"
I smiled faintly. "Yeah. For now."
HIME: "The developer's tone indicated approval."
"Yeah. Weird, right? I thought they'd sound more like gods."
HIME: "They are merely humans, Ren-sama. Builders of worlds."
"Maybe that's enough," I murmured, gazing at the glowing orb. "Maybe being human is the best kind of god."
The wind howled softly across the mountains. The chains on my fingers chimed like bells—soft, resonant, alive.
I clenched my hand, and ten threads of light spread outward, fading into the cold night air.
They didn't burn or cut.
They simply moved—like they were listening.
And as the stars shimmered above the frozen world, I felt it again—the pulse of the system, the rhythm of something vast and curious, whispering back.
I wasn't just playing the game anymore.
I was part of its heartbeat.
A builder. A seeker.
A ghost who'd learned how to create.
End of Chapter 20 – The Forge of Divinity