True Name

Even so, as long as I was here, I spread the Machine Legion outward from Daegu.

Every single day, the news couldn't stop talking about me.

When I went outside, people recognized my face on sight, so I just ended up holed up at home. The house we'd built was enormous, too — a full three stories.

"Wow... property values here have really shot up."

"That's because you're here."

"Well, I'll be heading back soon anyway."

In three hours, I would return to that place and have to fight monsters again. Well — technically, the Machine Legion would be doing the fighting.

"By the way, isn't it funny how marriages and births have skyrocketed? Right?"

Were humans really just animals after all? With society turning into a place where anyone might die tomorrow, people had started marrying in droves — even the DINK couples who never wanted kids were apparently having them. Because of that, obstetrics clinics these days were absolutely slammed.

"Hmm... things would be different if your body were a machine, you know~"

"A machine?"

"Yes! You could pursue pleasure whenever you wanted. Machines can do anything, after all!"

Sssaak—

The moment Pitasha cut into the family conversation out of nowhere, the atmosphere froze solid. The air went ice-cold in an instant.

"Ha-ha... well, I'd still rather stay human."

"Machines are better though. So convenient."

"Alright, alright, that's enough."

Only at those words did Pitasha finally shut her mouth. It wasn't that she couldn't read the room...

My family, sensing something off, exchanged wary glances.

'Something's dangerous here.'

I wanted to remain human. I had no intention of becoming a machine-man. If I ever lost an arm or a kidney, sure, I'd consider replacing it with machinery — but I had no desire to stop being human because of it.

Come to think of it, the body she'd shown me back then hadn't been entirely mechanical. So why was she talking like that?

'And didn't she clearly say before that she didn't want that?'

Something was wrong.

"Pitasha. Get up. We're going back."

"Ah! Yes, Master!"

Pitasha began to move at my word. Leaving her behind, I shot my sister a subtle look, and she gave a small nod.

After reverse-summoning Pitasha, I said my goodbyes to the family.

"Um... is Pitasha okay? Why was she acting like that all of a sudden?"

"I'm not sure. But... never mind. I'll be off for now. Don't worry."

"Alright."

There was something I'd almost said but swallowed. The thought that in that moment, the thing calling itself Pitasha hadn't seemed like Pitasha at all. I hadn't said it out loud — but everyone in that room had felt the same thing.

"I can't put this off forever."

Some returnees had already ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠chosen their sponsors. But Hwang Jinhyeok, Ju Hwan, and Kim Min-gyeol, at least, had yet to choose. They were the ones doing the choosing — not the ones being chosen.

Whoaaaaaah—

"I love you, son."

"Love you too."

With those final words exchanged, I closed my eyes — and when I opened them again, the place I'd long since grown used to was there to greet me.

"Aaah! Master's baaack!"

"Pitasha."

"Yes?"

'...This puts her on the same footing as the transfer, doesn't it.'

"For now, keep running the repetitions. You know what to do."

"Yes, sir!"

I watched her hum to herself as she climbed onto her drone flyer for a moment, then headed for the crystal orb. Twenty days had passed since I'd last been here — soon, the three battalion commanders would be due to return.

"I should go back around then too. And... my sponsor."

As far as I could tell, there was only one explanation for why Pitasha had briefly turned into... whatever that was.

With that thought, I tapped the sponsor tab — and a flood of notifications rose before me. Alerts scrolling faster than my eyes could follow, and somewhere in that torrent, I fished out the ones I'd been looking for.

"...I do intend to make a contract with you. But let me ask one thing first. Pitasha acting strange earlier... she couldn't even hold onto her memories properly. Was that your doing?"

...

..

.

The notification window went silent in an instant. The other sponsors had been waiting for his response. No — waiting wasn't the right word. It was more like they'd been struck speechless.

After a brief pause, new alerts appeared.

"Ha... knew it. I did my homework. It exists on Earth too — the God of Machines and Knowledge. Omnissiah. That's you, isn't it? Omnissiah?"

The various sponsors were expressing their shock at the revelation, their alerts surging up in endless waves.

"Your true name is Omnissiah. And your creed is... the rejection of the flesh and the worship of the machine alone. Am I right?"

It was exactly as I'd suspected. The creed of Omnissiah:

There is no truth in flesh, only betrayal.

There is no strength in flesh, only weakness.

There is no constancy in flesh, only decay.

There is no certainty in flesh, only death.

If the Creed of Omnissiah ever properly spread through the human world — now that the existence of gods had been proven, no less — and on the very Earth I lived on? Every last person would come running to have their bodies converted to machinery. For the sake of their god. And I, having become an Apostle, would have no choice but to carry it out.

And the name of all of this — the name of this religion — was the Mechanicus. The god of this religion was Omnissiah. In other words, if the Mechanicus was Christianity or Buddhism, then Omnissiah was its Jesus, its Buddha.

"I won't make a contract with you. I do think humanity might one day become machines ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠— if the world ever turns cyberpunk, sure. But that doesn't mean I have to open that door."

At those words, no message appeared at all. From the sponsors' perspective, a mere mortal had just refused the hand of a god. How laughable must that look? Would divine punishment come raining down?

"You said it before, remember? That I should spread your doctrine too. Sorry, but I can't do that."

The notification window erupted at the sight of a god agonizing over a mere mortal.

"Think it over carefully. I have no intention of turning every living thing on Earth into machines."

With that, I pulled ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠my hand from the crystal orb. I even went so far as to block it from my senses — I didn't want to see any more.

"...Whew..."

Was it because he was the machine god? And as that god's subordinate, Pitasha was probably at least equal to — maybe stronger than — the sponsors sending messages from over there. Interfering with her mind would be child's play for him.

Naturally, this was a power I had received, not something I had earned myself. If he took her back, I couldn't exactly complain...

"Still, I'm making her mine. Pitasha is already my people."

With that resolve, I stepped outside — and this time I found the real Pitasha, sparring using nothing but low-grade combat units. Well, she was probably just killing time.

"Aaaagh! Why did you lose?! Was the shield too heavy...? That should've been a perfectly viable material. If I inject more combat data... ugh, not possible at the current stage!"

I watched her rack her brain and bark orders for a while.

Pff.

"Oh? You're here, Master?"

"Yeah. That's all wrapped up now. Shall we move on to Stage 21?"

"Yes, sir!"

The moment I floated the idea of pushing ahead to Stage 21 early, gates bloomed into existence before us. And what came out of them was—

"Huh? No goblins?"

"Guess so. Quality over quantity from here on out, huh."

What emerged from those gates—

"...One?"

On the forearm of the creature so marked was a single tattoo — a tattoo shaped like a wolf.

"RUOOOOOAAAAAARGH!"

KWAAAAAANG—!

The Orc Warrior bellowed and slammed its fist into the ground.

"RUOOOOH!"

"GRAAAAAH!"

Echoing the Orc Warrior's roar, the orcs began to shout and close in. The ordinary orcs of before had carried wooden clubs — but the warrior was gripping a hammer of iron. It barely qualified as a hammer, honestly; it looked like lumps of iron bunched together into something vaguely hammer-shaped. One thing was certain: take a proper hit from it, and you were dead.

In a heartbeat, the Snipers set to work mowing down the charging orcs yet again. And naturally, the snipers' rounds were ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠aimed at the great warrior.

Pck...

"...Unbelievable."

Its head hadn't burst. It hadn't even been penetrated. And yet the Orc Warrior (1) lay collapsed, bleeding out. The (1) probably denoted some kind of rank or tier.

"We haven't seen the tattoo's power yet. Repeat the sequence."

The gates opened once more. This time, I had the other orcs cleared away quickly first. The high-grade combat units had swollen to several dozen — and in a single second, they burst the heads of the twenty Orc Warriors that had appeared alongside the first.

His comrades vanishing before his eyes left the Orc Warrior stunned for an instant — but he collected himself, let out a roar, and lunged.

<Tssk...>

KRAAAAAK—!

The low-grade combat unit that moved to block him took the mace head-on and went flying, its frame crumpled beyond recognition.

"Hmm. They really do get tough around this stage... I'll have to upgrade the whole line later. Or maybe you should acquire a trait like that, Master! Give it a try sometime!"

Summoning a different batch of units every time did seem like a losing proposition. Then again, my odds were probably better when I summoned the 50,000.

Just as I was mulling that over, the heels of the warrior — finally surrounded and hard-pressed by the Raptors — began to glow.

"RUOOOOOAAAAAARGH!"

The wolf-shaped tattoo on his forearm flared to life, and light coiled around the orc's entire body.

"...He's fast!"

The tattoo worked like a haste buff. The instant it lit up, the creature's speed skyrocketed; he twisted nimbly between the Raptors' strikes, smashing skulls with every blow and steadily thinning their numbers.

"Enough. We've seen everything we need. Finish it."

TAAAANG!

TAANG!

TAAAANG!

Dozens of Snipers opened fire at once, and from every direction, the creature dropped — bullets planted in its skull.

"...Tough bastard."

The coins he'd dropped totaled a full 30. But his strength far outstripped thirty goblins.

"I'll need to get stronger myself. For that, first I need to hit 50,000."

I immediately filled the roster with high-grade units. I'd pulled a particularly large number of Heavy Weapons Units this time. Stronger orcs would be coming from here on, so I needed sturdy anchors holding the front line.

Not long after the summons, the quest cleared.

"Whew..."

Well, what now?