The only possibility was something related to Sinner worshippers or criminals committing crimes associated with "Divinity."
"Alright."
A man responded.
The previous voice belonged to Saintess Anne Fiore Evanc. It had a distinct characteristic that was easy to recognize.
The Blue Bell had been deployed—this was undoubtedly an event that would be recorded in history books.
A major event.
I halted my actions for a moment, my mind sinking into extraordinary imagination. Thinking about the possible scenarios happening out there felt both unique and challenging.
It went on for almost a few minutes.
Until that sound woke me up.
Plap—!
I lifted my head, looking up.
The "Author's Book" had closed, producing an illusory sound that felt like a slap to my brain.
As the soundwave resonated, a red light filled my vision. Within seconds, my body felt strangely heavy. My eyelids slowly shut, unable to lift.
The world blurred, and my mind gradually calmed. Like the gentle flow of a river—so calm… so peaceful.
Then, I became aware again.
I found myself standing before the ruins of a building, resembling an ancient temple that had crumbled with age. Debris was scattered all around.
What surprised me the most was the fact that I could see the night sky, illuminated by countless stars.
I was stunned.
For some reason, it was beautiful.
For the first time in twelve years, I was outside the church—standing amidst ruins, gazing at the sky.
I knew little about the outside world. My knowledge was limited to paintings and descriptions provided by other priests and believers.
After all, the last time I was outside was when I was eight years old.
After staring at the scenery for a while, confusion began to settle in.
Where is this?
Has the integration completed?
Is this the result of the plot I wrote?
Tap! Tap! Tap!
As questions flooded my mind, the sound of footsteps startled me.
I turned toward the source of the noise.
An orange glow entered my vision.
Someone stood there—not far from me.
He stood before what appeared to be an old, ruined gateway. Only two stone pillars remained, one taller than the other.
He held a lantern in his right hand.
Draped in a black hood adorned with intricate symbols, he looked eerie yet strangely intriguing.
He stopped there, facing me.
Confused, I didn't speak immediately. I knew this was not normal.
Something mystical… This was something mystical.
Unmoving, the figure seemed to be waiting for something.
What is he waiting for?
At that moment, I realized something important.
The scenery around me—this wasn't the outside world as I had assumed.
Even though I hadn't seen the outside world for twelve years, I had often heard descriptions from other priests.
I looked around, scanning every detail.
The ruins stretched endlessly.
Debris was scattered—some had sunk into the ground, while others remained but were covered in moss and wild plants.
As for myself… instead of wearing a priest's robe or, as I had feared, being completely naked due to the awakening process, I found myself dressed in a plain black robe. The hem was tattered, giving it an aged and worn-out appearance.
A mask hung around my neck—a white mask adorned with a single eye within a triangle.
One crucial detail I had overlooked.
Somehow, I had missed it.
Aside from the vast ruins, there was nothing else.
Thick white clouds swirled on all sides, as if concealing certain areas.
I saw no buildings, no forests.
My sight was cut off by the billowing mist.
Taking a deep breath, I turned back to the hooded figure, who remained motionless. His shadow stretched long under the lantern's glow.
This time, I no longer hesitated and asked directly.
"Who are you?"
My voice echoed. Fortunately, it still sounded like my usual voice—only broader, as if reverberating in an open space.
Instead of answering, the figure merely raised his lantern slightly higher, causing the shadows of the ruins to shift as if they were alive. Though it was merely an illusion caused by the flickering light.
Finally, after a long silence, the figure responded in a hoarse, unsettling voice.
"I am your servant."
Unlike my voice, which echoed, his was hollow—devoid of emotion.
Servant?
I didn't understand what he meant.
I was certain this was the result of my "Author" ability fully integrating. Yet, I couldn't grasp my current situation.
In the plot I had written, it was supposed to go like this:
"Ralph Veir Hume's slumber would be the bell that awakens another self—one with unlimited potential—within the Hume estate."
The last three words were supposed to mark the Hume estate as my starting point.
But instead of finding myself there, I was standing amidst ruins—with a terrifying figure claiming to be my servant…
It seems like I missed something…
Did the integration fail?
I focused my thoughts on anything I might have overlooked. But I found nothing that could explain my current situation.
At this moment, knowing absolutely nothing, I had no choice but to ask.
"I seem to be lost here… Can you tell me where this is and why I am here?"
Once again, my voice echoed.
The figure didn't move but answered in his eerie voice.
"You are in Miracle Temple, the temple of the Mirageon lineage. As the next Oracle of the Imaginer, your duty is to rebuild this temple."
His words carried weight, and I felt pressure upon hearing them. One reason was perhaps because his statement was difficult to process.
Miracle Temple…
Oracle of the Imaginer…
Mirageon lineage…
I am a Hume. As far as I know, none of my ancestors bore the name Mirageon…
Everything felt unfamiliar, so I sought more information.
"Okay, I think you need to explain that in more detail."
My words lingered in the air. The figure remained silent.
A few seconds later, he lowered his lantern slightly, altering the movement of the shadows as if they were alive.
"Hmm."
He suddenly hummed strangely, as if evaluating me.
"Wear your mask."
Before I could respond, he moved.
He stepped aside, giving me a clearer view of the ruined gateway.
It was just two stone pillars—one taller than the other. I examined the various mysterious symbols carved into the surface.
Lowering my gaze, my eyes landed on the mask hanging around my neck.
Its material was hard, with a texture resembling bone. Slightly rough yet lightweight.
I have to wear it?
It was unsettling, but right now, I was like a stranded fish—knowing nothing and unable to do anything but comply.
What harm could it do? He claimed to be my servant, so I assumed it wouldn't be an issue.
I grasped the mask with my right hand, gently lifting it to my face.
As I expected, its texture felt slightly rough against my skin.
But then, something strange happened.
When I put it on, I saw an ancient, magnificent structure.
I was standing inside it, facing an ancient gateway.
A gateway engraved with countless archaic symbols.
It was the same.
The layout was identical to the ruins.
At that moment, I understood.
While wearing this mask, I was seeing the true state of Miracle Temple—as it was meant to be. Yet, in reality, the temple had long crumbled into ruins.
The temple had once been grand, its structure ancient yet reinforced with immense durability. Inside, the space where I stood radiated a serene atmosphere, a blend of blue and white hues.
The floor beneath my feet was covered by a blue carpet with intricate patterns, extending far back into the area behind me.
By the gate, the figure who had previously worn the black hood and held the lantern now appeared as a well-dressed man. He wore a white shirt and a black vest, with black pants and knee-high boots completing his outfit.
His face had a fitting air of wisdom. A soft smile, complemented by a long mustache that curved upwards.
I observed him closely as he raised the lantern in his hand, the light now shining a soft blue. He bowed his head slightly.
After nearly five minutes, my eyes began to ache, as though a thorn was repeatedly stabbing them. The pain was so intense that I had to hold the mask's surface to try to ease it.
That was when a deep, calm voice reached my ears.
"Take off the mask. It is your limitation."
Without thinking, I removed the mask from my face. Once it was off, my vision returned to the ruins, back to the original state.
Still in pain, I winced and rubbed my eyes.
The hollow, hoarse voice echoed once more.
"You can now see the blueprint of this temple. You can begin rebuilding it."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Why should I do that?"
I didn't see any reason to follow his orders. However, on the other hand, I had no other clues, no other choice but to obey.
"Imaginer is a symbol of unlimited imagination. Therefore, its potential is also unlimited. This temple is your anchor as the descendant of Mirageon. The closer this temple is to its original state, the more potential you will have at your disposal."
"Do you not want it?"
"Great power?"
"Power that surpasses everything?"
"The foundation for your future?"
"The first step in finding the answers you seek?"
His words reached my ears and were processed swiftly by my mind.
I thought back to the reasons I was doing this. The reason I had written the plot in the "Author's Book," the reason I wanted a different life.
That's right... I want answers...
Answers to the corruption of this world, answers to the hypocrisy of divinity, answers to the questions that have clouded my mind all this time...
Why did my family have to suffer such a horrific fate? Why did the gods turn a blind eye to this destruction?