We had one job.
Disrupt the Festival of Dominance.
Just sneak in, cause a scene, embarrass the system, prove we weren't just lucky idiots with a talent for dodging paperwork and divine wrath. Something subtle. Subversive. Classy.
Naturally, I ate a cursed fruit and became a god.
The Festival of Dominance was held in the Lower Maw-an open chasm-turned-arena where thousands of demons, imps, and miscellaneous horrors gathered under tattered banners and roaring flame pillars. It was a celebration of hierarchy, cruelty, and wildly unsafe pyrotechnics.
Imps carried offerings on bone trays. Fire-beasts danced in molten pits. There was a competitive screaming contest in Sector D.
We arrived wearing our best "don't-look-important" hoods and cloaks. Silas guided us through the crowd using stolen entry tokens. Velis was already scanning the leyline distortion overhead, muttering about "ritual sync frequencies" and "disruption thresholds."
I was thinking about snacks.
Specifically, the ones glowing gently on an imp vendor's cart.
"Don't touch anything," Lyra warned. "Everything here is probably cursed, flammable, or sentient."
I nodded.
And promptly wandered over to the food stall.
There it was. Sitting in a pile of moss: a fist-sized, pear-shaped fruit glowing with low pinkish light and humming. Yes, humming.
It smelled like strawberries. With a hint of cinnamon. And trauma.
"Hey," I said to the imp vendor. "What's that?"
"Voidberry," he chirped. "High-grade. Blessed by miasma. One bite and you'll never feel the same again."
"Will I survive?"
He shrugged. "Probably."
I bought two.
Silas: "Kaname, no."
Me: [Bite]
The taste hit like lightning in my jaw.
Spicy, sweet, electric. The ground tilted. My spine lit up.
Then everything went quiet.
Then very, very loud.
A pulse of energy erupted from my chest-pure, hot, violet light that lit the whole arena like a signal flare. My shield glowed with it-no, sang with it, a deep, ethereal chime that reverberated through the stone.
The crowd went silent.
Then they screamed.
"HE HAS RETURNED!"
"THE NYAN-BEARER!"
"GLORY TO THE SOFT-PAWED ANOMALY!"
---
I turned around.
There were imps bowing.
Dozens of them.
Dozens turned into hundreds.
They knelt, groveling, chanting in squeaky unison:
> "MEOW! MEOW! MEOW!"
Lyra was frozen. "What did you do?"
"I ate fruit!"
"That doesn't explain it!"
Velis blinked. "He's manifesting anomaly bleed from the relic interactions. The Voidberry must've triggered a short-term leyline mimicry feedback-"
"English, please!"
"You're glowing with divine cat energy, Kaname!"
Silas: "...Awesome."
They carried me.
That's not exaggeration.
They hoisted me up on a throne made of junk armor, discarded tail sheaths, and skulls. They paraded me through the arena while fireworks made of fire and teeth exploded in the sky.
I tried to speak.
They interpreted my silence as divine restraint.
I tried to gesture that I was not a god.
They interpreted it as a forbidden blessing.
I tried to get down.
They installed me on a pedestal and gave me a crown made of cheese rinds.
Velis messaged me through a whisper charm.
> "If you can work them into a frenzy, we can trigger a chain-reaction miasma backlash through the crowd. It'll disrupt the ritual wards."
> "How do I do that?!"
> "Be yourself."
Terrible advice.
So I stood.
Took a deep breath.
And said:
> "When the stars fade, and the mice awaken-will you chase fate, or let the yarn of destiny roll away?"
The silence was eternal.
Then:
> "WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Imps exploded into cheers.
Iria stood behind the shrine, nodding solemnly. "A true war hymn."
Silas cried actual tears. "I can't believe you quoted a first-season anime opening and they made it scripture."
The roar of the imps cracked the upper platforms.
The leyline distortion wavered.
The miasma thickened, then inverted.
A shockwave burst outward from the shrine.
Ritual runes shattered. Fireworks misfired. Demonic administrators tried to issue suppression orders and were drowned out by a tidal wave of chanting rodent-worshippers.
The Festival collapsed.
Not with battle.
Not with fire.
With belief.
In me.
I hated it.
But I raised the shield anyway, and the pink cat crest gleamed like a divine prophecy.
Back in the rebellion tunnels, the Unshaped demons stared at us in stunned silence.
"You... led the chant," one whispered.
"No," I said. "I caused the chant. By accident. That's very different."
"You are the anomaly," the defector said. "You don't shatter the system. You warp it."
Lyra: "That's what we've been saying for months!"
Iria patted my shoulder. "You carried that weight well."
Velis just handed me a scroll. "The leyline is still destabilized. We'll use it to reach the central hive vault."
Silas: "And maybe avoid any more divine parades, huh?"
I groaned.
"I swear, if one more imp asks me to bless their toe fungus-"
A knock at the tunnel entrance.
An imp stood there.
Eyes wide.
Holding a statue of me made of mud and scrap.
"Divine One," he squeaked, "we have begun your temple."
I turned to the others.
"No one say a word."