As High Priestess Frieda rushed the Shinki Itten contingent deeper and deeper into the bowels of the Great Temple, Shin forced himself to stay optimistic. This was probably good, right? The cleric had certainly seemed amazed at their brush with Magica’s god creation system, hadn’t she? Because if this wasn’t good, chances were that he and his friends were being shepherded towards a room where fire and spikes would be introduced to their parts. Parts that would not be particularly improved by burns or punctures.

So basically, his continued well-being currently relied on someone being happy to hear about that weirdo Divine Bolty. Woof. Shin knew he should have spent more time building up immunities to spikes and fire.

Frieda kept her tone as brisk as her pace as she marched down the hallway. “How much do you know about our world? You’re clearly Procedural, but how much of the overall picture has been revealed to you?”

Momo tweaked an ear quizzically towards Shin, who almost imperceptibly flattened his ears in response. It seemed best to let her take the lead here. “That’s a hard question to answer,” Momo began. “We know that the Players come from another world. That some force or entity from there wields incredible control over us. It’s a bit difficult to conceptualize.”

“That’s fine; as far as the broad strokes are concerned, it sounds like you know about as much as any of us do.” As the group reached a pair of double doors at the end of the hallway, she waved for the guards standing watch to step aside. “If you’ll allow me, how about I help fill in a few of the details?”

Without waiting for an answer she shoved open the doors, revealing a modestly appointed solar. Much of the room’s space was taken up by a large bookcase overflowing with tomes, so tall that a sliding ladder had been built directly into it. As the doors swung open the man currently perched atop that ladder wobbled in surprise, a brief look of panic flashing across his handsome face. He steadied himself after a moment, though, managing an embarrassed chuckle as he brushed a lock of long ebony hair out of his face. “Ah, you startled me! Goodness, what would the Gods think if I went to greet them after falling off of the–”

Frieda quickly waved off the man’s greetings. “Sorry Vikar; these guys aren’t on the quest line. I need the room.”

“Oh! Alright then.” With that, he deftly slid down the ladder and started off, offering the kobolds and Bittercup a pleasant wave. “Have a nice talk!”

Gero warily watched the man amble further into the lower levels of the Temple, a bit on edge. “Who was that?”

“Hm? Oh, that’s Father Vikar.” Frieda checked the teapot sitting on the small serving table, making a face when she discovered it was cold. “He’s technically the leader of the research sect of the Temple, but he’s actually the leader of the Demon King Cult.”

“Right, he’s…” –Gero balked– “He’s what?”

“The Demon King Cult.” Frieda pressed her palm against the teapot, wisps of steam coiling up from her hand as she Divinely heated it. “He leads it. It’s a big twist in the Demon King quest, I’m told.”

The warrior’s tail went as stiff as a board as she stared incredulously at the priestess. “And you don’t care?”

Frieda paused rummaging for teacups long enough to cock an eyebrow at Gero. “Of course I don’t. Surely by now you realize that all this business with ‘Demon Kings’ and such is just nonsense, yes? Just a game to amuse juvenile outsiders?” She motioned the group forward. “Well sit, sit! What good is a seat if you don’t use it?”

Gero still seemed unconvinced, her hackles just barely kept under control. But then Momo strode resolutely forward, her back straight and her eyes steady as she regally sat down and lifted a cup. “If you have sugar, I’d take some.”

“Of course, dear.” The woman dropped a cube into the kobold’s cup. “Milk?”

“They’re lactose intolerant,” Bittercup remarked as she slipped into a seat as well. “So probably not.”

Frieda clucked her tongue. “Probably for the best; despite local tastes, proper tea should never have milk. Lemon, perhaps?”

Momo nodded. “Yes, please.”

Shin slipped in beside Momo as Frieda set about pouring them all a cup, humming contently to herself. Well, so far there were no spikes or fire. So that was good. Unless spikes and fire were cunningly hidden within the cup? Shin squinted suspiciously down at the dark amber-colored brew, giving it a probing sniff. Hmm. Very bold, a bit nutty with strong notes of malt. And a sort of citrus infused throughout? Not quite orange, not quite sweet lemon, but entirely refreshing.

Nope, no spikes or fire here.

Frieda took four sugars herself, indulging in a slow sip before setting her cup down and earnestly facing the group. “So. If the Demon King is nothing but a farce, what then does that make the Gods and Goddesses who oppose him?”

Momo considered the ripples in her cup for a moment before responding. “Just as much of a farce?”

“Indeed.” Frieda took another sip. “It’s all just a game, like so much of Magica is. A game for the Players to wile away their hours.”

Gero frowned. “People are hurt and killed every day as a part of this ‘Game’, you know.”

The priestess nodded, her eyes sympathetic. “Of course, dear; I don’t intend to make light of the world’s suffering. I only call this a game because that is how they see it; I know full well that the wheels of this game are greased by the blood of thousands.”

“I suppose I see what you’re saying,” Momo reluctantly admitted. “It seems sometimes like there are two realities going on at once in Magica. In one, we are just going about our everyday lives–”

“ –And in the other, a grand war against the forces of evil rages on,” Frieda finished, nodding along with the other priestess. “That’s exactly right. The first reality is the real Magica, while the second is a sort of play being put on. The Demon King is real, of course, but he’s never going to actually invade and he’s never going to have any effect on your crop harvest or roof thatching or sheep shearing. It’s all just a puppet show.”

Momo considered that, tapping a finger thoughtfully against her cup. “Then the Gods are…?”

Frieda snorted. “Barely sentient stat sticks for players who’ve been tapped as divine to equip and discard. I’ve spoken to nearly all of Them, and They’re barely more alive than that zombie sitting on Magica City’s throne.” She swirled her tea, a touch of bitterness creeping into her voice. “Really, the Gods are nothing more than supremely powered checklists. Do the Thing they like? That’s a reward. Do the thing They don’t like? That’s a smiting. Is it any wonder that practically every cleric in Magica is quietly an atheist?”

Momo folded her ears, giving her head a small shake. “I just…what you’re saying makes logical sense, but I just don’t feel that way about Tasan Okaa. I know we created Her, and not the other way around, but She doesn’t feel like just some conjured being.”

“Hm.” Frieda took another sip of her tea, her mouth spreading in a knowing smile. “I wonder why that might be?”

By now, the woman’s implied question was simply too tempting for Shin to resist. “‘Practically every cleric’,” Shin quoted back to the priestess. “You don’t include yourself?”

The woman’s nose wrinkled in amusement. “I suppose I don’t.” She set down her cup, rising from her seat to head towards the bookshelf. “So we’ve established that the average God or Goddess of Magica is nothing particularly special,” she remarked, trailing her finger searchingly along the spines of a row of books. “What do you know about the Great Gods?”

Momo gave it a moment of thought. “Not very much, beyond what’s implied by the name. Are They the ‘real’ Gods?”

“Welll~,” Frieda intoned, grimacing slightly. “In a sense, yes? They’re certainly no mere puppets, but They aren’t the omnipotent creator-gods that the myths imply.” Her finger lingered on a particularly ancient-looking tome, the book releasing a shroud of dust as she pulled it free. “After all: how can the Great Gods be the ultimate power in Magica when They Themselves were created by others?”

“Design-a-Deity,” Momo announced, her ears perking up. “The Great Gods were made using Design-a-Deity?”

“Yes, They were.” Frieda carefully set the book down on the table, a piece of its desiccated cover’s corner crumbling as she opened it. “Design-a-Deity was last used before time began to create the Great Gods, and now it has been used once again to create your Tasan Okaa.” She grinned at the group. “Exciting, right?”

Judging by her expression, Momo hadn’t quite reached the level of ‘excited’ yet. “But who used it, then?”

At that, Frieda’s eyes flashed. “Now you’ve asked the right question,” she enthused, delicately flipping the pages of the ancient tome. “No temple exists to honor Them, no cult exists to serve Them, and Their names appear nowhere in the entire world besides this book. But They are the true Gods and Goddess of Magica,” –She flipped the tome around, presenting it to the group– “The Dev Leads.”

Shin squinted at the faded double-panel etching that spread out across the pages of the book, doing his best to reckon with the revelation that the five figures that stared back at him were supposedly the ultimate power behind his entire world. Because even depicted in the stylized form of religious iconography, they were almost painfully normal looking. “So you’re saying that these are the beings we should actually be worshiping?”

Frieda shook her head. “No no, not at all. But they are, or at least were, the true source of everything that has become Magica. Theirs’ is a true Divine Power. For example: If you worship Sekret, Goddess of Fire, you can set things on fire.” She reached out, tapping her finger against one of the vaguely female-shaped Devs. “If you somehow gained the powers of Lakshmi, Who Has Six Cats? You could fundamentally change the concept of fire.”

“This is all incredible, Priestess, truly it is. But…” Momo tilted her head. “Why are you telling it to us?”

“Because the Devs never intended Design-a-Deity to make it into the hands of lesser beings,” Frieda explained. “The texts aren’t entirely clear, but the general consensus seemed to have been that it was…hold on, let’s see,” –She lightly turned the page, her eyes scanning for something– “Right, here it is. ‘Super annoying and honestly kinda creepy’. That’s a direct quote from Seo Joon, Who Vapes at His Desk.”

Shin only heard the beginning of Frieda’s explanation, however. He was too busy staring at the etching that had been revealed, a painfully familiar symbol depicting an empty circle surrounded by a thick ring of blackness. What was that? Where had he seen–

Gero gasped, and Shin realized she had been staring at the same image. “Momo! Isn’t that the symbol you used to draw? When we were still hunting boars and stuff?”

“Eh?” Momo craned her neck around to peer at the page, recognition immediately blooming across her face. “Omigosh it is!”

Frieda, for her part, could barely contain her excitement. “I knew it. I fucking knew it.”

“Knew what?” Momo demanded. “What is that symbol?”

“It only appears in this book,” Frieda confirmed, laying her hand down on the ancient tome, “And neither I nor anyone else has any clue what it’s supposed to mean. But it is absolutely connected to the Devs, and it is absolutely connected to all of you.” She lightly chewed on her lip, giving the kobolds a thoughtful stare. “The question is, in what way? One or more of the Dev Leads must have been deeply connected to your zone in some way, but–”

A wild thought burst into Shin’s head. “Doug? Is one of the Devs named Doug?”

The priestess sucked in a startled breath, turning back the pages of the book so urgently that she nearly ripped it clean out. “Doug, Who Always Votes for Sushi?” She tapped her finger against a male silhouette near the middle of the group, her excitement bordering on mania. “Why do you think He’s connected to you?”

Shin abruptly realized that he needed to be careful here. He wasn’t certain how he felt about almost any of this, but he knew that it would be a bad idea to make information he knew because of the Mod Chat public knowledge. Fortunately, he had another angle to take. “There used to be two messages hanging up in our zone,” the Schemer explained. “One of them was telling someone named Doug that he was fired.”

Frieda slumped back in her chair, visibly weighed down by the impact of what she was hearing. “He was fired, was He? Then he must have gone to the Emulsion, and…” The priestess blinked rapidly for a moment, then straightened up. “Okay, yes. I think I get it.”

“Really?” Momo asked. “Could you explain it to us then? Because I am so lost.”

“Sorry,” the other priestess apologized, “I can’t. Well I probably could, but I suspect that if I do everyone in this room will be erased from existence.”

Shin couldn’t help scowling at that. “Wait, so all of that other world-shattering information was totally fine, but this is a step too far?”

“Yes,” Frieda firmly replied. “It absolutely is.”

“Oh thank the Goddess,” Mimasu exclaimed, his voice faintly pleading. “I’ve run out of paper, so you have to stop saying interesting things or I will just die.”

“Look, here’s what I’m going to do for you.” Frieda swiped her hand through the air, opening up a prompt. “If Tasan Okaa was formed by the tools of the Devs, she’s simply too powerful to be released in the general Player base. She’d be Pruned almost immediately, and it would also get prying eyes peeking where I do not want them peeking.” She quickly punched in a series of selections, then waved the prompt away. “So I’m setting her as Legendary Only, just like the other Great Gods. The Sheds don’t care if Legendary Classes are broken; that’s pretty much the whole point of those.”

Momo slowly nodded. “Okay, good. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Frieda cautioned, “Because this is going to make a lot more work for you. Now that She’s officially plugged into the System, Tasan Okaa is going to be much more of an actual entity than she was before.”

“Really? How?”

“It depends. She may appear in visions, she may enthrone herself in your central shrine, she might create or empower a worldly avatar, it could be anything. But whatever the form, she’ll be a much more active part of your lives from here on out.”

“Well, good. I want that.” Momo was, without a doubt, fully resolved. “The other Gods might stink, but Tasan Okaa is great.”

Frieda’s face split into a smile. “Is she? I’ll have to come and visit, then. Who knows; maybe She’ll make a true believer out of me, too.” The priestess glanced over towards Shin, curiously nodding towards his pocket. “Unfortunately, I think that has to be the end for today. It seems as if you’ve got other claims on your attention.”

Following the woman’s gaze, Shin reached into his pocket and produced an insistently pulsing folded scroll. The Sending Sheet had been activated.

It was finally time to meet the King.