Chapter 44 – The Weight of Reverence
The echo of their voices still hung in the vast chamber when silence fell again—thick, reverent, absolute.
The nine rings of light beneath our feet dimmed, leaving only the steady pulse of the Aeternum Core—the guild base's crystalline heart—glowing faintly behind me.
I stood before them, hundreds of gazes fixed upon me. Some were glowing orbs within metal visors, others burning coals within skulls, and some—like Aurelinne's—were soft, bright, human.
They were waiting, still kneeling or standing at attention, as if afraid that a single wrong motion would dishonor my presence.
I took a slow breath, letting my voice carry through the quiet.
"…Before we continue, I want to ask something simple," I said. "All of you—every one of you—what do you think of me as your guild master?"
It wasn't meant to be a test.
It wasn't even a command.
I just… wanted to know.
If they were truly alive, then I needed to hear it—from their own mouths.
---
The first to step forward was Valter Mortis, the Overlord Commander of Helheim. His armor scraped the floor as he straightened, eyes of black flame burning beneath the horned helm.
> "To us, you are not merely a guild master," he said, voice deep and resonant. "You are the one who shaped the Abyssal Gate, who gave death its law and command. The Eternal Sovereign whose will forged our purpose."
He knelt once more, bowing his head.
> "If we are shadows, then you are the light that cast us."
A faint shiver ran through me.
That kind of devotion—it wasn't what I expected.
Then Aurelinne stepped forward, her golden hair rustling like living leaves.
> "My roots remember your touch," she said softly. "When this form was but a seed of data, it was your design that granted me growth. For me, you are the Great Gardener—one who shapes life from the void."
She placed a hand over her heart.
> "The forests of Vanaheim bloom for you, and for no other."
Her words were serene, but the reverence in them made my chest tighten.
Then Ignivar, towering and fierce, rose to his full height, flames crackling around his shoulders.
> "I was forged in wrath," he said, his voice shaking the marble columns. "My existence was a weapon—an inferno given a name. Yet it was you, my lord, who tempered that fury, who gave me a reason to burn."
He slammed one knee down, the ground sizzling beneath him.
> "To me, you are the Forger of Flame. Command me, and I shall burn the worlds that oppose you."
The others followed.
Blanc from Niflheim bowed her crystalline form.
> "The frost has no master but you."
Thrymir Ironstorm thundered his allegiance.
> "You are the storm's core. The sky bows before your return."
Seraphelle of Alfheim smiled faintly, veil shimmering.
> "We of the Veil live to reflect your brilliance, my lord. Without you, illusion has no meaning."
Even HEPHA-0S, the mechanical automaton of Nidavellir, lowered its head.
> "Primary Constructor acknowledges Source Code: R.E.N. The directive remains absolute. Obedience to Creator supersedes all protocols."
One by one, they spoke.
The hall filled with their voices—a chorus of devotion, each one proclaiming loyalty not as a command, but as faith.
When the last voice faded, all eyes turned to me again.
And for the first time in my life, I didn't know what to say.
---
I stood frozen in the middle of the Asgard Hall.
Me—Ren, a once-isolated boy who spent his youth behind a monitor—was being treated like a god.
These weren't simple lines of code following a hierarchy.
They believed in me. They felt.
The sheer sincerity in their words made my chest ache. I had never been praised like this—not in the real world, not even once.
But this wasn't praise.
It was worship.
And that terrified me.
---
I took another breath, forcing composure.
"Listen to me, everyone," I began. My voice echoed slightly in the vaulted chamber. "I appreciate your loyalty—more than you know. But I don't want blind faith. You don't need to treat me as a god. I'm just…"
I hesitated. What am I now?
"…just someone who made you," I finished. "If I'm your creator, then that makes me responsible for you. Not your god."
Murmurs rippled through the gathered NPCs—confusion, disbelief, even concern.
Aurelinne stepped forward again, brows furrowed gently.
> "But you are the one who gave us life. You shaped our souls. What else could you be but divine?"
Valter Mortis nodded slowly.
> "If our purpose is to serve and protect, then we cannot separate your will from our existence."
I raised a hand to calm them.
"I understand what you mean," I said carefully. "But listen—there's something I need to tell you all. Something important."
Every head turned toward me again.
I let the words fall slowly, deliberately.
> "This world… is not Yggdrasil anymore."
The hall grew silent.
Even the low hum of mana seemed to pause.
"…What do you mean?" asked Thrymir, his voice uncertain for the first time.
I looked around at their faces—each one showing different shades of confusion.
"I mean that the place we once knew—the world you were created to exist in—is gone. We've been moved somewhere else. A new world. Different, unknown."
> "A new world?" repeated Velmora, the illusionist. "But, my lord… we have always been here. The Asgard Hall has stood for centuries. The roots of Aeternum reach through all realms."
Her expression flickered with something I recognized as fear.
They remembered time passing—memories that didn't exist before.
"HIME," I said quietly, "do they all… remember a history?"
She nodded faintly. "Yes. When consciousness manifested, their memory cores extrapolated plausible continuity. To them, they have always lived here."
That made the silence heavier.
Rynir, the Asgard Watcher, stepped forward.
> "If we are in a new world, then what of the threats beyond these walls? Are we to guard against them as before?"
I nodded. "Exactly. That's what I wanted to talk about."
I took a step forward, scanning their faces again.
> "Whether this world is new or old doesn't matter. Your duty remains the same—to guard this place, to protect Aeternum Sanctum with everything you have. This guild base isn't just a fortress anymore. It's our home."
The silence broke—soft murmurs of agreement, quiet determination spreading through the hall.
Valter Mortis lowered his head.
> "Then our path is clear. The walls will hold. The gates will remain sealed until your command."
Ignivar slammed a fist against his chest.
> "Let any who dare approach learn the price of defying our master!"
Aurelinne smiled gently, though her eyes shimmered.
> "The forests of Vanaheim shall bloom as our shield, and our roots shall strangle any who threaten the sanctum."
One by one, they voiced their vows—solemn oaths spoken with conviction that shook the air.
And finally, as if to seal it, HIME stepped beside me.
> "All systems are now synchronized under current world conditions," she said softly. "Defensive protocol: Eternal Oath—engaged."
A beam of golden light flared across the ceiling, forming the guild emblem of Three Burning Eyes.
Every NPC raised their right hand to their chest, heads bowed.
> "By our lives, our power, and our souls," they said in unison,
"we serve you, Master Ren of Aeternum Sanctum."
The sound rolled through the hall like thunder, shaking the marble and the air itself.
And I—standing at the center of it all—could only stare.
They were willing to die for me.
Every one of them.
I wanted to say something—anything—to break that intensity. But my throat refused to move.
How could I respond to that kind of faith?
To beings who existed only because I once wanted to fill a quiet world with company—and now, would give their lives for me without hesitation?
My chest tightened painfully.
All I could manage was a whisper.
"…Thank you."
The words were small, almost swallowed by the vastness of the hall.
But somehow, every one of them smiled.
As if that was enough.
---
And as I looked around at the faces of those who called me master, I realized something that shook me deeper than anything before.
In this new world, I might not know what was real or fake anymore.
But the devotion in their eyes—
That was real enough to make me speechless.
---
End of Chapter 44 – The Weight of Reverence