Anathasia Veridielle Augthoria.
A name that struck both fear and reverence in all who heard it.
Deities, Reality Supremes, Multiversal Sovereigns, Demiurgic Beings, and even the Outer Gods themselves. None dared to challenge the bearer of that name, unless they wished to be erased from representation entirely.
Across realities, continua, and multiverses, religions had formed.
Each believed they carried her true words.
Thousands upon thousands of faiths, all praying to one singular being.
The First Outer God.
Anathasia Veridielle Augthoria.
And yet—
She was nowhere to be found.
Inside Kyle and Anathasia's residence
"I swear I turned it off earlier…" Anathasia murmured.
I stood behind her, yawning softly, before noticing what she was holding.
Now shrunken.
Her shirt.
Or rather, mine.
Though she claimed it was hers.
"Wow… careless…" I muttered.
She immediately whirled around and glared at me, clutching the shirt to her chest.
Forgetting to turn off the dryer… huh…
"Shut up! I liked this one!" she snapped, eyes burning into mine.
"Woman, that's my shirt—"
She didn't even look at me.
She just started sobbing.
For real.
"…Huhu… I really liked this one…"
I blinked.
So she actually treasured it…?
She sniffled, staring at the ruined fabric. Then, without any fanfare, the shirt reverted to its original size in her hands.
I narrowed my eyes.
"Then what were you crying for earlier?"
She went quiet, gaze darting away as the shirt vanished into thin air. Probably back in her room.
"Yeah, so…" she suddenly said, switching moods so fast it gave me whiplash.
"Since it's Friday, our classes are mostly online, right?"
"Yeah," I replied, leaning against the doorframe, arms loosely crossed. "Why?"
She hesitated. The folded clothes in the basket beside her vanished as she turned toward me.
"So…" she paused, meeting my eyes. "There's this thing I wanna buy—"
"Okayyy, I think I forgot to water the flowers."
I turned and walked off, whistling as I headed outside.
When I glanced back, she was frozen in place, one hand still stretched toward me.
Yeah. I know damn well she's about to ask me to buy something again.
Or at least, I tried to avoid it—
"…Did you just teleport us in front of a convenience store?"
The glass doors slid open as she walked in. With a sigh, I followed.
Somehow, my wallet, which I'd left in my room, was now in my pocket.
I raised my gaze as she browsed the shelves, specifically the kitchen section.
Also, this wasn't a convenience store. It was a supermarket.
"Yeah, I like this," she said casually, picking up a knife and lightly slicing her own finger with it.
My eyes widened.
Before I even realized it, I was grabbing her wrist with one hand and snatching the knife away with the other.
"Idiot! What are you doing?!" I hissed, keeping my voice low. We were still in public.
I put the knife back and immediately pulled a bandage from my wallet, wrapping it around her finger.
And for some reason…
She stayed unusually quiet.
When I lifted my gaze to meet hers, her eyes were wide.
Still, she made no move to pull her hand away.
"Right…" she whispered. "Sorry. I'll be careful from now on."
I shook my head gently and sighed before letting go of her hand.
The bandage I'd wrapped around her finger barely showed any blood.
Of course, I knew she'd just regenerate right away.
But that didn't mean I had to like it, god or not.
"Next time," I said, glancing aside, "conjuring a tomato or something would probably be better than cutting yourself with it."
I reached over and casually picked up the set of knives she'd been eyeing.
"Also, I'll buy this one, sure. But after this, no more for the next few weeks, okay?"
Her expression brightened instantly, like a kid who'd just gotten her favorite toy.
"Mhm. Got it."
—
After paying for the knife set at the counter, almost the moment we stepped outside, I found myself standing back in the middle of our living room. The box I'd just bought was gone from my hands.
More importantly—
She was nowhere to be seen.
"Wait… where did she go this time?"
Then the sound of chopping broke the silence.
I followed it into the kitchen.
Anathasia stood at the counter, wearing the same apron she'd used ever since the first day she came into my life, moving with familiar ease.
She really does have a habit of making me worry…
Shaking my head, I walked over and stopped beside her, watching how smoothly the knife moved through the ingredients.
"Were the ones you were using getting dull or something?" I murmured, picking up the old knife she'd had for nearly a year.
"Yeah. Something like that." She kept chopping, then slid the vegetables into a bowl. "It was getting harder to cut things, so… I just needed a new set. Y'know?"
She glanced back at me over her shoulder, a faint smile on her lips.
"Oh… I see…"
So that's what this was about… and I tried to dodge her.
I went quiet, staring at the worn blade resting on the counter.
Idiot…
The hiss of the pan filled the kitchen as she cooked. A familiar aroma drifted through the air while Anathasia moved with practiced ease.
Then—
"Worried about something?"
She didn't turn around as she spoke, still stirring the contents of the pan.
Of course she noticed…
I exhaled.
"How should I put this…" I muttered.
Then, quietly, "I'm sorry. For ignoring you earlier."
For a moment, there was only the sound of cooking.
She slid the food onto a plate, then turned around, a small smile already on her lips.
"So that's what this is?" she said, walking over and setting the plate down on the counter.
A soft chuckle escaped her.
"It's really fine," she added, untying her apron and letting it drift back to hang beside mine.
"But you don't have to worry."
She lifted the same finger she'd cut earlier and peeled off the bandage.
There wasn't even a mark.
"See?"
Of course there wouldn't be.
"Yeah…" I murmured, glancing down at the dish in front of me.
"I was still kind of an asshole earlier, though."
"That you were," she cut in immediately, shrugging.
"Didn't even bother hearing me out."
"…Sorry. That one's on me."
She crossed her arms and stared at me for a moment.
"Sorry won't cut it this time," she said, tapping her cheek. Her expression softened—
then slowly twisted into something far more mischievous.
"So how about this…"
"You do anything I ask for the rest of the day as punishment instead?"
I flinched and took a half-step back.
That look never meant anything good.
"Anything?"
"Anything means anything, Kyle."
Her smile widened.
I might just be cooked…
Or so I thought, but—
"Yeah, that belongs there. Oh, and this one here."
All she wanted was to make a scrapbook.
Or something close to it.
Most of the photos were ones we'd stolen of each other over the past few weeks. Some were from our beach trip four months ago, and the rest dated back to last year.
I wonder why she suddenly felt the need to make something like this…
"Oh, and add this one too," she said, another photo materializing in her hand. The one she'd taken of me grilling during our beach trip.
Anathasia kept arranging the pictures, slipping in a few of us together between the solo shots. A faint smile curved on her lips as she worked.
Right now, she didn't look anything like the Outer God I knew she was.
Not the cold, distant being who had descended into my life back then.
Just a girl, sitting beside me, quietly putting together a scrapbook out of stolen memories. And a handful of absurd, impossible moments we'd somehow shared.
"Oh, here's a photo of you sleeping,"
By the time I looked over, she was already holding it between her fingers. Another one she must've taken while I was out cold in my room.
"…Wait. When was that?"
"The night on New Year's," she replied. "We slept together, remember?"
My expression went flat.
"Anathasia… phrasing."
"Anyway," she steamrolled over me. Again. "I still have a lot more, actually. But I feel like it'd take forever to stick all of them in."
She leaned back, arms crossed over her chest, looking down at the scrapbook between us. Her head tilted slightly.
"Hmm…"
"Oh, right. Speaking of which," I cut in, casually attaching another photo. "Rania once mentioned the name 'Anathasia Veridielle Augthoria.'"
"Well. Through my mind, actually," I added, glancing at her. "I don't know why you people never just talk to me normally… but is that some kind of alias?"
She looked at me, rubbing her temple lightly.
"Alias? Not really. That's my real name."
I paused.
"…You're a princess?"
"No, idiot," she said flatly. "my name just sounds like one."
"Right." I nodded, going back to attaching the photos she'd already materialized. "So… who named you?"
She picked up her phone, scrolled through a few images, then set it down in front of us.
"I did," she said with a small shrug. "I mean, who else would name me?"
"Fair," I replied.
As I glanced through the photos she'd brought out, one slipped free.
It was an image of her in her usual form, and something incomprehensibly massive, something beyond perception itself, looming behind her.
The moment I picked it up, she casually plucked it from my hand.
"Ah. No peeking."
"What's that thing behind you, exactly?"
She hesitated. Just for a moment. Her eyes drifted away before returning to me.
"Let's just say…" she said quietly, "it's the same thing you saw back in January. During that field trip about Rizal."
She shrugged.
"It's how I look to alien civilizations, I guess."
I leaned back slightly and let out a breath.
"Now that I think about it… that almost made me low-key go insane," I admitted.
"Seeing you like that… you looked like something straight out of a cosmic horror book."
"I quite literally am," she replied, without a hint of denial.
"Well. Usually," she added with another shrug. "That's in the past anyway."
Of course it was. To her, at least.
"You said alien civilizations, right?" I asked.
"Yeah. What about it?"
"So they really exist?"
She went still.
Then slowly turned toward me, staring like I'd just said the dumbest thing imaginable.
"Kyle," she said flatly,
"you do realize you're talking to someone who oversees Outer Gods that look after entire multiverses, right?"
I stopped, raising my hands a little.
"Okay, okay. I was just making sure, alright?"
She scoffed and casually closed the scrapbook.
"Besides, you asked if there were religions worshipping me, didn't you?"
"Yeah… so there are?"
"Obviously." She shrugged. "Mortals, humans especially, always try to appease things they can't control. Or can't fight."
…She wasn't wrong.
She leaned forward and poked my cheek with her index finger.
"Anyway, I hate being worshipped. So I never actually show myself to them. Haven't for eons."
"And do you even hear what they claim my words are?" she went on, visibly irritated. "The audacity."
I couldn't really argue with that. Humans had a habit of doing exactly that.
"Like, seriously," she continued, brows furrowing. "I once peeked into a universe where entire civilizations were waging war on each other."
"And why?" She scoffed. "'It is the will of the Law Weaver—The First Outer God.'"
She pointed at herself.
"I do not remember saying anything like that."
I watched her rant with folded arms. For someone who claimed not to care, she was clearly hella annoyed.
"So," I cut in, "what did you do about them?"
She paused.
Then, completely casually—
"I erased their universe."
"…Okay, wait—what?"