Reddish evening sunlight, filtered through the stained glass window, fell upon the girl’s beautiful, blazing red hair, spread behind her like a curtain of flames, and caused it to shimmer and shine in a way that seemed almost supernatural.

Unlike the common folk, sitting in the pews with their heads bowed, she was on the floor, in the middle of the path. But while that may have seemed like a humiliating position to be in for some people, her beauty and grace as she sat there, her eyes closed and her hands clutched together, lent her an aura of serenity.

Her wings, which would normally twitch this way and that even when she was sitting still, and her tail, which showed never a moment of stillness, were unmoving, folded neatly behind her.

In a word, her praying figure was truly beautiful. Even the other churchgoers found themselves entranced by her, in spite of… or perhaps exactly because of the neatly-cared-for uniform cladding her body.

Though they had come to pray their own worries away, they found their attention entirely stolen away by the girl, and pondered what in the world she might be praying for.

Of course, there was no one present who was unaware of her identity. In fact, one would come up with precious few people who did not know her face even if one scoured the entire nation.

“Oh my? I did not think you a religious sort, Field Marshal, ma’am.”

With a respectful salute, a different soldier interrupted her prayer. Though her normal temperament would insist she beat some fear into him, the locale had a calming effect on her mind, and she slowly made her way to her feet.

“Oh? What makes you say that…”

She gave a quick glance at his insignia.

“... colonel?”

She waved away his salute with a casual gesture as she inquired into the rationale behind his words, tilting her head in a gesture filled with innocent curiosity.

“Ahh… If I had to say, the impression comes from your background, ma’am. If I may be so bold, I do believe you rather blessed, considering your loving parents from an affluent family and current position of power. Oftentimes, man is prone to turning to faith when otherwise impoverished, to try to give one’s life some meaning, or perhaps to seek salvation from an unpleasant predicament, but you are…”

As though lost for words, the colonel trailed off, perhaps a little unsure of how to convey what he wished to.

“Hmm? I think I get what you’re trying to say, colonel. In other words, faith is something bestowed by the high unto the low, yes? It makes sense, but… even I wasn’t always happy, you know?”

“You weren’t… ah, come to think of it, you possess memories of the past, as I recall, ma’am. Forgive my indiscretion…”

“Ahh, no, no, it’s fine. More importantly… in this world, even I… no, especially I will become a faithful person, you know?”

Though her body was that of a splendid young woman, perhaps in her late teens, the expression on her face spoke of a childish, innocent loneliness, as if she longed to meet someone she’d not seen in a long, long time.

“... Field Marshal, ma’am?”

“Ah, no, it’s nothing.”

She shook her head, forcing an innocent smile onto her face. After all, despite her infamous temper, she had no desire to worry her subordinate, even if separated by several ranks.

“Ma’am… Respectless though this may be, I feel it is only right to ask… what were you praying for?”

“Mh? Ahh, I guess it makes sense you’d ask that… I was praying to meet someone. Y’see, I wanna meet God. Or… reunite with God, I guess? That might sound stupid, but…”

She directed her gaze to the statue looking over the church, of a man of slender build, holding in his arms a woman with pointed ears.

“... I miss them. I miss them so much it hurts.”

The colonel had not a clue what she was talking about. Reunite with God? She was speaking as though she had a personal relationship with the duality… perhaps, back in her previous life she apparently remembered, God had been easier to meet with?

Either way, though the colonel comprehended not her thoughts…

He nevertheless averted his eyes, pretending not to see the tear streaking down the field marshal’s face.

“Ahh, I miss you… papa…”

A whisper, so quiet as to be inaudible, meant for no one’s ears. No one’s at all. And indeed, no one’s ears heard it, other than the field marshal herself, who had whispered the words to begin with.

The person she’d secretly, quietly been hoping would respond didn’t come, either.

Pulling down her cap to hide her face, she rubbed at her eyes, as though trying to clear them out.

“I am leaving, colonel.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He didn’t try to stop her, possessing neither the rank nor the heart.

Still hiding her face, the dragon, forever a child at heart, left the church.

“And finally, could we get your personal opinion?”

The flashes of cameras, combined with the sounds of their shutters going off repeatedly, might make one think of paparazzi, but this was a proper event, being broadcast on several television channels. The central event was a woman with forest-green hair, deep purple eyes and half her face covered in ugly burn scars. The half of her face that was intact revealed she would be rather pleasant to look at were it not for those scars, but they robbed her of much of her womanly charm, yet she had never given that a shred of care. Similarly uncaring was she for the damage her smoking habits were likely doing to her lungs, and those same smoking habits weren’t doing her voice any favours, either.

“My personal opinion… is it.”

She was about to wrap up the press conference… though, despite the term, it was more like a presentation of new technology she and her team had developed.

“Yes… if possible, could you tell us what motivates you?”

“What motivates me…”

For a moment, the reporter’s question caused the woman to stare blankly into space… no, it was more as though she were looking at something far away, so far one would have no hope of seeing it with the naked eye.

“My motivation is… the sun.”

“The sun…? You wish to harness its power, or travel to space, perhaps…?”

“No, not in a literal sense. You see, I… used to know a person. Someone so bright and radiant I could only describe him as the sun… yet at the same time, so pitch-dark I can’t help but think of him as an unreachable black hole.”

“Right…”

“I want to meet him again. So, so badly. During the darkest period of my life, he was the one who illuminated my path forward, and who gave me purpose… and I still haven’t repaid him for that. I couldn’t. Not in a thousand years.”

Her voice sounded somewhat wistful, despite the distinct rasp of a smoker that backed her every word. She spoke with passion, but it was clearly a feeling quite different from love… perhaps something more similar to admiration.

“And you believe that devoting yourself to advancing the nation’s technology will allow you to meet that person?”

“Not at all. He’s… he’s somewhere else now. Somewhere where he wouldn’t even notice a nation this small, let alone the efforts of a single woman. He’s much too great for that.”

Despite her use of the word ‘small’, she was actually in the employ of the largest nation on the continent, not in a small part due to the efforts of the field marshal.

“So then, why…?”

“This is the path he showed me. I might no longer have his light to illuminate it, but… it was fairly straightforward, so if I just keep going in one direction, I probably won’t deviate from it too far.”

Once more, she pointed her gaze towards that invisible horizon.

“But still…”

The microphones in front of her barely picked up her voice.

“I… I’d like to meet him again. To once more have him illuminate my path…”

With a profound smile on her face that didn’t reach her eyes, she turned around and, at once, ended the press conference.

“Somehow, I’m just not in the mood today.”

Pitch-black on all sides. The only light in the entire space was a small candle on her desk, its flickering flame not even managing to illuminate her entire face.

With a listless expression, she slumped over on her desk, slipping her phone out of her pocket and scrolling through one social media feed after another, though she failed to process any information. On her body was a well-tailored, white suit, complete with tailcoat, but it didn’t fit her current posture at all.

“Ma-Ma’am, you can’t just…!”

From the shadows stepped forth a robed figure, the upper half of their face covered by a mask to hide their eyes. At the same time, the mask lacked any eye holes, so it effectively acted as a blindfold and prevented the figure from seeing anything—how they managed to avoid bumping into the woman’s desk was a mystery even to her, but never had one of her underlings disturbed her work.

On the contrary, they were diligent and hard-working, far moreso than she herself.

“If I say I’m not in the mood, I’m not in the mood, and that’s final.”

After all, she was completely refusing to work, even though—

“Ma’am, your job is vital to the functioning of the world…!”

For she had the all-important job of managing the world’s cycle of reincarnation, in addition to all use of magic. That responsibility was the price she had paid for her Stigmata.

In response to her underling’s complaints, she merely slumped over her desk harder, her heart-tipped tail drooping to the ground. The only reason she wasn’t slumping even harder than she already was was her horn, scraping on her desk. With a big sigh, she communicated her intent not to work.

“But Ma’am… The occasional day off is not inherently a problem, but these occurrences have been happening more and more often…”

“Oh, shut it, you.”

Her words came out far more venomous than she had intended, judging by the little gasp that followed them, but even so, she neither apologised nor took them back.

“Ma’am…”

“Haaa…”

She pushed herself up from her desk, only to slump backwards into her chair instead, after which she directed her gaze skywards, to a ceiling just as black as the rest of the room.

“Where are you…? Are you watching over us from the centre of reality…? I don’t like that… I don’t like it at all when I can’t hug you and have you spoil me…”

She aimlessly stretched out an arm upwards, as if to grab hold of a star she could never reach.

“This makes the third time, doesn’t it? I guess I’m just… Not supposed to have a family…”

Her subordinate, at a loss for words, simply averted their eyes.

“Your Majesty?”

A room filled with beautiful red and resplendent gold.

At the far end stood a gorgeous throne, yet despite its beauty, the girl who sat on it had a look on her face that betrayed no emotion other than melancholy.

“Your Majesty?” her secretary called out once more.

A slime, with white as its main colour, that refracted the light that fell into its body into a pleasant rainbow. There had been no proper job for her, so the other four had decided to thrust her into the position of royal secretary.

And the queen of the kingdom, who still had not heard her own secretary call out to her. A vampire, eyes red like blood and skin white like snow, staring blankly at the door at the opposite end of the splendid hall.

“Your Majesty!” her secretary called out one final time, finally managing to obtain her attention.

“Ah… Yes?”

“What’s wrong? You don’t look so hot.”

“Ah…”

Realising that her emotions had been read, the queen brought a hand to her face and forced a smile, though she had little fortune in making it look convincing.

“ ‘Tis nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Liar.”

The secretary narrowed her eyes, prompting the queen to avert her eyes.

“... You miss them, don’t you?” the secretary asked, eliciting a shocked, choking gasp from the queen as she attempted to prevent herself from bursting out crying on the spot.

“... Miss who?” she managed to respond, still refusing to meet her secretary’s eyes.

“You know exactly who I’m talking about. Truth is, I miss them, too.”

His evil-looking eyes, that concealed a surprisingly kind heart. His evil-sounding laughs, that concealed legitimate joy at his success. His evil-sounding speeches, that concealed a pride unmatched in the strength of his subordinates and his family.

And, of course, her. Her lack of emotions, her strong front, her doll-like face, all of which she had built to conceal her true self, more cowardly and gentlehearted than anybody.

All in this world could feel the gentle embrace of the Goddess, protecting them from tears ‘til the end of time…

But sadly, that effect did not expand to those who were actually familiar with her, and fell just barely beyond her grasp. Try as she might, she could never properly embrace them like she could the world. In her place, as part of his Legion, they felt his embrace, instead…

But the members of his Legion were fundamentally a greedy lot, and such a thing would never satisfy them.

The queen’s heart had a giant, gaping hole in it, and even the love her parents gave her could never fill it. She strove not for the top, but to be one step below it… and yet here she stood, alone.

Her secretary perked up. Although she had just been forced into the role because there was no better fit, there was no doubt she was actually rather good at her job—her identity as a slime allowed her to split up, so she could do a number of tasks at the same time.

One of them included receiving letters, and she had just received one… or more accurately, an e-mail. Of course, the queen received countless e-mails every day, but one in particular had caught the secretary’s attention.

“... Your Majesty, do you mind if I give you some advice?”

“Hmm? Go ahead.”

“The five of us… We should assemble somewhere. I recommend somewhere secluded, like the royal gardens…”

“Hm? You mean like a tea party? Certainly, it has been a while…”

“No, well… I have just received an interesting message… and I think we should all be together to receive our guest.”

“Guest…?”

And so it happened that the five Apostles were gathered once more.

The Field Marshal, the head of the science department, the girl who lorded over magic, the queen and her secretary.

At the secretary’s behest, they had gathered to collectively welcome their ‘guest’... or, more accurately, ‘guests’.

And when they saw who those guests were—

“Mh… Is everyone doing well?”

A girl with dark skin and purple markings on her face.

“Yahooo, it’s been a while!”

A girl clad entirely in purple.

“H-hello, everyone…”

A moving shadow, clutching a book to her chest.

“Yo!”

A girl who carried her own head under her shoulder.

“Hello…”

A girl clutching a large scythe to her chest.

And—

“You lot… I apologise for leaving you alone for so long. It has been so many years… I am sorry.”

A man, dressed in priestly garb covered by a cloak, in his hand a scythe with a hole in the blade.

“Milord…!”

“Master…”

“Master!”

“Master…?”

“Please do not apologise, Master.”

““Welcome back… We’ve missed you so, so much…!””