1. Power Was Never Meant to Be Felt Like This
The first symptom is physical.
A god of rivers pauses mid-decree and frowns.
"…Why am I tired?"
Not wounded.
Not cursed.
Not diminished by war.
Just… tired.
Across Heaven, similar pauses ripple outward.
A goddess of harvest rests her hand on a pillar longer than necessary.
A god of light misjudges the brightness of his own radiance and winces.
A minor authority forgets a name he has ruled over for centuries.
No alarms.
No alerts.
Just fatigue.
2. Oversight Notices Before Anyone Admits It
Oversight's dashboards update silently.
Authority Output vs. Cognitive Load
Decision Volume vs. Recovery Rate
Domain Stability vs. Oversight Intervention
Trendlines slope downward.
"Observation," Oversight states internally.
"Authority exertion now produces feedback strain."
This is new.
Historically, divine authority was frictionless.
Act → outcome.
No recoil.
No cost.
Now?
Every intervention echoes.
3. Ne Job Feels It Too — And That's the Problem
Ne Job rubs his temple.
Yue notices immediately. "You're getting headaches again."
"Yeah," he says. "Which is unfair. I don't even have a domain."
"You have influence," Yue replies.
He doesn't like how accurate that sounds.
The more he authorizes, reviews, explains, mediates—
—the heavier the room feels afterward.
Not guilt.
Not doubt.
Load.
Like lifting something that pushes back.
4. Heaven Tries to Pretend This Is Temporary
An emergency council convenes.
A senior god scoffs, "This is psychosomatic. Authority doesn't drain."
Another snaps, "Speak for yourself. I authorized three mercy adjustments today and nearly collapsed."
Murmurs spread.
Someone finally says it:
"This started when we stopped acting unilaterally."
Eyes drift—inevitably—to Ne Job.
He doesn't respond.
He doesn't need to.
Everyone already knows.
5. Oversight Explains the Unthinkable
Oversight manifests fully this time.
"Clarification," it says.
"Authority was previously buffered by asymmetry."
A pause.
"Decisions made without consent produced no internal load."
Silence thickens.
Xian narrows his eyes. "…You're saying responsibility creates resistance."
"Yes," Oversight replies.
"Shared agency introduces feedback."
Yue whispers, "So power hurts now."
Oversight does not deny it.
6. Gods Discover the Cost of Caring
A god of punishment attempts to issue a sentence.
The system requires justification.
He supplies one.
Then another.
Then an impact forecast.
By the time approval completes, he is shaking.
"This is absurd," he snarls. "I used to sentence thousands without blinking."
Ne Job looks at him. "And how many did you think about?"
The god opens his mouth—
—and closes it.
7. Authority Drain Is Uneven — And That's Worse
Not everyone suffers equally.
Gods who listen recover faster.
Gods who consult adapt.
Gods who explain feel less strain.
Those who cling to command hierarchy?
They burn out.
A pattern forms.
Yue charts it late at night. "Ne Job… the system is rewarding humility."
He huffs a tired laugh. "Heaven's going to hate that."
8. Someone Tries to Weaponize Exhaustion
It's inevitable.
A faction proposes a rollback of reforms.
"Clearly these systems are unsustainable," they argue.
"Authority was never meant to be consensual."
They point to fatigue metrics.
To delayed judgments.
To gods requesting rest cycles.
Xian listens carefully.
Then asks one question:
"How many mortals requested rollback of you?"
Silence.
9. Oversight Issues a Warning No One Expected
"System advisory," Oversight announces.
"Authority exertion exceeding recovery capacity may result in permanent attenuation."
A chill spreads.
Permanent.
Gods exchange glances.
"You mean we can lose power?" someone asks.
"Not lose," Oversight corrects.
"Redistribute."
Ne Job feels that word settle like a stone.
10. Ne Job Realizes the Trap Too Late
He stares at the graphs.
Authority isn't disappearing.
It's flowing.
Toward those who:
explain
listen
accept limits
share decisions
Toward systems.
Toward processes.
Toward… him.
"No," he mutters.
Yue follows his gaze. "…You're becoming a load-bearing structure."
He exhales. "I didn't sign up for this."
"You didn't sign up for any of it," she says gently.
11. Heaven Tries Delegation — And Fails Spectacularly
To relieve strain, gods attempt delegation.
Committees form.
Panels multiply.
But without genuine authority sharing, it backfires.
Decisions stall.
Blame diffuses.
Load concentrates anyway.
Oversight flags the pattern.
"Delegation without accountability increases systemic drag."
Ne Job pinches the bridge of his nose. "So you can't fake this."
"No," Yue agrees. "You actually have to mean it."
12. The First God Voluntarily Steps Down
It shocks everyone.
A mid-tier god of records kneels before the council.
"I can't keep up," she says simply.
"My domain deserves someone rested."
No theatrics.
No rebellion.
Just honesty.
Oversight reallocates her authority smoothly.
She stands lighter.
Watching her leave, Ne Job feels something twist in his chest.
Relief?
Or grief?
13. Power Becomes a Choice — Not a Right
That's when it truly changes.
Authority can now be declined.
Not revoked.
Declined.
A god pauses before issuing a decree and asks, "Is this necessary?"
Sometimes the answer is no.
The universe… survives.
14. Yue Confronts Ne Job
Late.
Quiet corridor.
She blocks his path.
"You're carrying too much," she says flatly.
"I'm fine."
"You're not."
He looks away. "If I stop—"
"The system won't collapse," she interrupts.
"It's learning."
He swallows. "I don't know how to rest."
She softens. "Neither do gods. That's the point."
15. Oversight Makes Its Most Dangerous Statement Yet
"Conclusion," Oversight announces privately to Ne Job.
"Unchecked authority was efficient but brittle."
A pause.
"Shared authority is slower but survivable."
Ne Job closes his eyes.
"Then why does it hurt so much?"
"Because," Oversight replies,
"you are no longer acting alone."
16. End of Chapter (Power That Pushes Back)
Heaven doesn't feel omnipotent anymore.
It feels human-adjacent.
Fallible.
Tired.
Still responsible.
Ne Job sits down for the first time without an agenda.
And for once—
the system doesn't demand he stand back up.
END OF CHAPTER 315