Seravion watched in silence while Philip lounged carelessly across the celestial sofa in the Solaris office, tossing a small golden ball into the air and catching it again with absolutely no desire to exist.
The office was still absurdly beautiful. White columns, golden light, floating clouds, that irritating atmosphere of "premium corporate heaven."
Philip hated it.
"So…" Philip continued calmly. "After that, Marina dumped that idiot, Charlote had a breakdown because her little system started failing without an emotional audience to feed her ego… and I died leaving half of the Lloyd family fortune to Marina."
Seravion remained silent for a few seconds.
"You…"
He looked away for a moment, clearly uncomfortable.
"What am I supposed to do with you? Our Great Creator hated it."
Philip shot up from the sofa immediately, offended like an employee receiving unfair feedback from HR.
"He hated WHAT?!" he pointed at himself, scandalized. "I did everything right! Marina got a happy ending! The broken system was fixed! The male protagonist became an emotionally irrelevant streetlamp! That's efficiency!"
Seravion coughed awkwardly.
"Our beloved Creator thought it lacked… hm…"
He quickly checked a golden scroll.
"'Satisfactory dramatic density.'"
He paused again.
"And he also wrote here: 'Not enough romantic anguish. Emotional resolution happened too quickly. Where's the delicious suffering?'"
Philip went completely silent.
A full five seconds.
Then he slowly pointed toward the sky.
"Your god is unemployed."
"Philip—"
"No, because if we're going to complain… THEN LET'S COMPLAIN!" Philip dramatically pointed at Seravion, already fully outraged. "Whose damn idea was it to change my name?! Tell me ONE novel where the protagonist transmigrates and changes their name like that! ONE!"
Seravion opened his mouth.
Philip did not let him speak.
"Do you and your clueless God know the HELL it was answering to 'Heir Lloyd'?!" He placed a hand over his chest, offended. "I spent THREE DAYS ignoring people when they talked to me because I kept forgetting that was my name!"
Seravion discreetly looked away.
Which honestly only made Philip angrier.
"And another thing!" he continued, pacing back and forth across the celestial office. "'Heir'? Seriously? That doesn't even sound like a person's name! It sounds like a premium banking app!"
"Narratively, symbolic names possess—"
"SHUT UP WITH 'NARRATIVELY'!" Philip pointed accusingly. "Helping make my job easier was never an option, huh? You couldn't just let me stay 'Philip Hartwell'? No! You looked at the situation and thought: 'Hm yes, let's worsen his psychological adaptation.'"
Seravion coughed quietly.
"The Creator… doesn't like your name."
Silence.
Complete.
Absolute.
Philip stood still, staring at Seravion as if his brain had simply given up functioning.
"…Excuse me?"
Seravion checked the golden scroll with all the serene angelic calmness in the universe.
"Official comment: 'Philip Hartwell lacks sufficient narrative energy.'"
Philip slowly stood up from the sofa.
"Narrative… energy."
"Yes."
"From my NAME?"
"The Creator believes that 'Philip' sounds…"
Seravion hesitated.
"'Like someone who pays taxes on time and complains about the price of bread.'"
Philip opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
"BUT I WAS EXACTLY THAT KIND OF PERSON!"
"Yes, but apparently that doesn't generate romantic protagonist energy."
Philip placed his hands on his waist, incredulous.
"So let me get this straight. The problem with my name is that it sounds… normal?"
"Excessively normal, according to him."
Philip started laughing.
First quietly.
Then louder.
That kind of laugh from someone who had finally crossed the line between stress and delirium.
"Ah… so the Supreme God of Worlds thinks my name is boring."
He pointed to his own chest.
"Philip. The name my mother chose. The name I used my whole life. The name that was on my exploited employee ID badge…"
He took a deep breath.
"And he changed it to 'HEIR.'"
Seravion remained respectfully silent.
"Heir," Philip repeated slowly. "A name that sounds like a premium black card password."
The Solaris tried to argue:
"Technically, it matches the Lloyd family—"
"Of course it matches! Because it sounds like the name of a problematic rich kid who goes to therapy as a hobby!"
Seravion looked away again.
Critical mistake.
Philip noticed immediately.
"YOU ALSO THOUGHT THE NAME WAS RIDICULOUS?!"
"I… had administrative reservations."
"SERAVION!"