After hearing Joe's words, the goddess snapped her fingers.
Snap!
In an instant, Joe felt his body shift without consent. The scenery changed completely.
He had been standing in a void—
Now he was seated on a rounded wooden chair, part of a circular glass table that looked like it belonged in an angel's living room. Around him stretched a breathtaking garden—filled with blooming flowers, softly glowing grass, and a fountain spraying mist into the air. But if he looked farther...
The sky.
Sky and clouds in every direction. No ground. No edge. As if this garden floated in the heart of a dream.
Joe looked forward.
There sat Moistria, now looking far more… human. Her proportions were ideal. No longer a giant. Her body resembled a mature woman, graceful and composed, with pale, serene skin. Her smile still held sin—but now, it no longer threatened his sanity.
"With this, maybe you'll feel a bit more relaxed," she said lightly, leaning back while twirling an empty teacup that appeared from nowhere.
Joe raised an eyebrow. "You could make a place this comfy? Why the hell didn't you do this earlier?"
Moistria gave a crooked smile. "You needed to be shaken first. Now… it's time we talk calmly."
Joe glanced around once more. He took a breath, then finally asked,
"Why… did it turn out like this? I mean, Cumbria. How did the world you created rot so badly?"
Moistria looked up to the sky. Her hand moved as if to draw something in the air. Then she began to speak—slowly, but clearly.
"I created life… from my own fluids. Blood, saliva, sweat—and yes—the most intimate one, from which humans were born. Out of all my creations, humans were the most perfect. Nothing could rival the beauty and grandeur of their form."
She smiled, but there was a faint wound behind it.
"But I learned from my sister's world… your world. Humans there are incredible—but also savage. They kill each other, spark wars, write history with blood, and carve hero names atop piles of bones."
Moistria raised her finger, pointing at the garden's soil.
"And so, I… pissed on this land."
Joe choked. "...Sorry, what?"
"I created monsters from my piss," Moistria continued, her tone as casual as someone stating the weather. "Some like beasts—wild and ravenous. Some mimicked humans—they could think, seduce, even fall in love. But all of them… were lesser than humans."
She rested her head on her hand.
"I thought… if humans had a common enemy, they'd unite. And at first, it worked. They helped one another. They protected one another. But…"
Moistria fell silent for a beat.
"They still doubted each other. They built power. Kings, nobles, commoners. And with power came fear—fear of betrayal, of being overthrown."
Joe slowly lowered his gaze. "And from there… the filth began?"
"Yes," Moistria cut in.
"They began marrying their own blood. Not because I told them to. But because… it made them feel safe."
Her voice was soft. Not from shame—but from exhaustion.
"Nobles feared losing the throne. So they locked their bloodlines in straight lines. Commoners saw this… and followed. Because humans love copying what looks 'great.' Even if that 'greatness' came only from rumors, or a golden robe worn once in a lifetime."
Moistria inhaled deeply.
"Eventually, the thing that corrupted beauty became culture. Those who resisted were branded heretics. Those who questioned… were called traitors."
Joe said nothing. His hands clenched on his lap.
"And you just… watched?" he asked softly.
Moistria looked at Joe. This time, she wasn't smiling.
Only the gaze of a goddess defeated by her own creation.
"I loved them too much to destroy them. But I was too disappointed to pretend it was all okay." Then she pointed at Joe.
"That's why I need you."
Joe frowned. "Because I'm… not from this world?"
Moistria nodded.
"You're not bound by this world's culture. That makes you… purer. Able to educate them."
Joe laughed bitterly. "Hahha... Educate?"
Moistria gave a small smile. "Sure."
Her eyes softened, wearied, yet gentle.
"In the cosmic system… you are my sister's child. That makes the people of Cumbria your nephews."
Joe went silent for a few seconds.
"Wait, what? No, it's more like cousin, right?"
Moistria laughed, "In your family sistem, sure. But, you've been choosen, and you should be more wise than them, so you will be their uncle."
He chuckled, glancing up at the endless sky.
"Okay. So now I'm… the holy uncle sent by a goddess?"
Moistria nodded, her face unreadable.
Joe scoffed. "How hilarious. I—some random-ass human—chosen to fix the mistakes of a divine being?"
His voice was sharp, laced with mockery.
And suddenly—
Snap!
Moistria vanished from her seat and reappeared a few meters in front of Joe. No transition. Just an absolute shift—like reality bowed to her will without resistance.
She looked at him. Her eyes now… emptier.
"Yes," she said. "I won't deny it. This… is my mistake."
Joe paused, surprised by the admission.
Then without realizing, he was already standing before her.
"But…" Moistria continued softly,
"My sister made the same mistake. It was her failure I tried to avoid… Yet that very attempt became the root of my own."
Joe narrowed his eyes. "What mistake?"
Moistria turned to the beautiful flowers. "My sister didn't create a shared enemy for the humans of her world." She looked down, then out into the clouds. "Haven't you read your own history?"
Joe stayed silent.
"In your world," Moistria continued,
"Humans vilified demons that never even existed. Fictional beings, crafted illusions—used to mask the greatest flaw: their inability to control themselves."
Her voice flowed like a fountain in the quiet.
"Helpless women were burned alive for being 'witches'—even though your genetic code never allowed access to even such a little mana."
She raised her hand and clenched her fist.
"Young men died clutching holy pride, convinced anyone walking a different path deserved death."
Moistria smiled bitterly.
"When in truth… everyone just wanted the same thing—peace. But different roads of belief kept you apart."
Joe slowly nodded. "Okay… I get it." He looked at Moistria.
She continued.
"Tragic, isn't it?"
Joe frowned.
"Men with holy hearts died on the battlefield, burning with fire lit by speeches and sacred banners—while the ones who sparked that fire…"
She turned to him, eyes deep.
"…were cowards who never stepped on the battlefield themselves."
Her fist dropped to her side.
"And those who profited from those fights weren't the warriors' families.
But drunkards.
Bootlickers.
Traders of lives for gold coins…
counted with filthy hands and smirks behind the curtain."
Joe… laughed.
Not out of joy. But a sharp, broken kind of laugh from the pit of a soul that's gone numb for too long.
Moistria tilted her head.
Joe grinned. "Wow… I'm kind of impressed with myself."
Moistria blinked slowly. I forgot I disconnected from his thoughts, mused the supposedly all-knowing goddess.
"Our opinions… they're kinda similar," Joe continued.
"But I won't lie. Not everyone who lit the fire was a coward." He folded his arms.
"Sometimes, the one who ignites the spark… also gets burned. Some truly believed their own words. Some stood in front of the charge."
Moistria listened in silence.
"And not everyone who counts the coins… uses them for selfish reasons." Joe looked away, his voice softer.
"Some of them spend to build graves for the fallen. Sometimes… to feed orphans left behind by dead heroes."
Joe sighed, his tone now gentler.
"But yeah…" He sighed.
"Mostly, tragic fate says 'hi' to most of them anyway." He shrugged.
Moistria smiled.