The Name I Chose
Death.
What, exactly, was death?
They say death is the irreversible cessation of all biological activity—the heart going still, the breath falling silent, the brain going dark. A state from which there is no return.
Yes, an irreversible state.
Death is meant to be absolute. The extinction of the flesh is not merely a biological transition, but the complete, irrevocable end of an existence.
At least, that was how it was supposed to be.
“Why… why am I still alive?”
It was just like when I plummeted from that pedestrian overpass. I had died back then—I was certain of it. Every nerve in my flesh, every corner of my mind still remembered the sensation. I remembered the sheer terror of it, the searing agony, the crushing weight of mortality that brooked no argument. Not a single detail had faded.
Yet here I was, breathing, with my eyes wide open.
Even if I was still swallowed whole by an endless void.
“Kgh…! My—my heart…!”
A violent pang seized my chest. My lungs refused to take in air. Dammit… was I going to die like this all over again? No, could someone even die ‘again’?
{Good grief… What a fool I was to expect anything from you.}
Why was that voice still ringing in my head? I wished it would just shut up and vanish.
{I shall assist you this once. There will not be a second time.}
Help me? You?
It was absurd. How could some auditory hallucination festering in my skull ever help me? And yet… desperate as I was, I found myself clinging to that microscopic thread of hope.
“Help… me…”
Grasping at whatever straws I could find, I pleaded with the voice inside my head.
{Very well. You would do well to be grateful.}
A throbbing pain struck the center of my brow. What in the world was this sensation? It felt revolting, like something slimy and foreign crawling upward from the deepest pit of my stomach. Wait. Hold on. Just how far was it climbing? My head… my mind—
“Khehe. It has been quite some time since I last took a mortal vessel for a stroll.”
I—no, Al Camidew exhaled a slow, drawn-out breath. He raised both hands toward the dark expanse. The void swallowed him whole, glinting like a pitch-black night sky.
“Well then… shall we stretch our limbs a little?”
He raised his index and middle fingers in a crisp gesture, leveling them toward the swarm of grasping, disembodied hands reaching through the dark.
“Sever.”
A crimson radiance coalesced along the tips of his fingers before lashing outward in a single, razor-sharp line across the void. The streak of red carved through the darkness at blinding speed, leaving behind a luminous afterimage—and in its wake, the void itself, the very fabric of space, cleaved clean in two. Like a dying comet, the streak left behind a breathtaking scar before dissolving into nothingness.
“That should suffice.”
Al Camidew stepped out from the darkness. Or rather, it was no longer a void. It had been reduced to fragmented shards of severed space. The mark he left behind had shattered the abyss into pieces.
“Brat, I thank you for the vessel.”
Thud.
With those parting words, my body collapsed limp onto the floor.
A brilliant flash—
“Gaaah!”
A ragged scream tore from my throat as I jolted awake.
“Haaah… hah… ugh…”
What happened? What just occurred? Was I alive?
It felt just like before—as if my very soul had been wrenched from my body and shoved aside. And just like last time, my memories of the intervening moments were completely blank.
{Hey, brat. How was that?}
“Wh-what are you talking about?”
{Haaah… Just now! Did this noble presence not just deliver you from ruin?}
“You’re telling me… you really saved me?”
{Indeed! Do you feel nothing? No profound awe?}
Felt something? How could I feel anything when I hadn’t seen a damn thing? All that met my eyes right now were tiny, black fragments scattered across the surface—presumably the shattered remnants of that void.
“Well… uh, yeah. Thanks.”
{What a pathetic, half-hearted reaction. Truly fitting for someone like you.}
The voice sneered in haughty disapproval, chiding me from within my own skull.
“Pathetic? Me?”
{Who else would I be speaking of?}
He clicked his tongue, a quiet, disdainful sound echoing in my mind.
“Drop the act,” I muttered, lowering my voice into a cold, serious register. “Who the hell are you?”
{……}
A heavy silence descended, suffocating enough to feel as though the world itself had ground to a halt. When that silence finally shattered, he spoke with solemn, ancient gravity.
{I am Al Camidew. Pope of the Qurban Cathedral.}
“…What? Qurban Cathedral? Does a place like that even exist?”
{Not where you hail from, no doubt. This world is entirely separate from your own. An otherworld.}
“Wait, hold on. An otherworld? You’re saying I came to another world?”
{Indeed. You perished in your former realm, but by some stroke of fortune, you were granted reincarnation.}
“Reincarnation… Then I really did die?”
{Are you only realizing that now? Foolish creature.}
“Ha… haha… This isn’t a dream…?”
I reached up and pinched my cheek. A sharp sting shot through the skin. It definitely wasn't a dream.
“Then… what the hell is this place…?”
It was a realm that utterly defied every law of physics from my old world: an infinite horizon of crystal-clear water stretching endlessly under the sky, bordered at its periphery by a cosmic, grasping abyss. Dreams felt far more grounded in reality than this.
{This place? It is a Sub-Dimension.}
“A Sub-Dimension?”
{Yes. A realm severed from reality itself. One fashioned by my own hands.}
“What? You made this?”
{Good grief… What a bother it is to explain every little thing. Figure out the rest on your own.}
He brushed off my questions with lazy indifference. Sighing, I brushed off my knees and pushed myself to my feet. Miraculously, the pristine formal suit I was wearing hadn’t absorbed a single drop of water.
“Al Camidew, then you must know how to get out of here, right?”
{Naturally. Do you wish to leave?}
“Yeah, I want out.”
{Then ask Tira.}
“Tira? Who’s that?”
{The voice you heard when you first woke.}
“Ah, that voice? Do you know where she is?”
{Call for her, and she will appear at once.}
“Um… alright.” Hesitating for a beat, I called out into the open air. “Uh… excuse me… Tira?”
“Yes. Did you summon me?”
“Whoa!”
I leaped back in shock at the sudden voice materializing right beside me.
“Y-you scared the life out of me! Make some noise before you pop up like that!”
“My apologies. In the future, I will make my presence known before speaking.”
“Right… uh… anyway, do you know how to get out of this place?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Oh…! Then could you let me out?”
“I cannot, Lord Al Camidew.”
Contrary to my expectations, her refusal was flat and immediate.
“…Huh? Why not?”
“The Mass has not yet been conducted.”
“Mass…? What’s that?”
“It is a sacred ritual wherein we offer worship to God.”
“Wait… but I don’t believe in God…”
I had never believed in religion, not once since childhood. I lacked the will, the passion, or the spirit to place faith in anything. My former life had been nothing but a haze of lethargy.
“There is no need for you to believe in God, Lord Al Camidew.”
“Huh…? Didn’t you just say it’s time to pray to God…?”
“Because the God we pray to is none other than you, Lord Al Camidew.”
“…What?”
I stared dumbfoundedly into empty space. Worshipping this arrogant bastard running rampant in my head? Unthinkable. And besides—
“I keep telling you, I’m not Al Camidew.”
“I see. In that case, how should I address you?”
“Uh… well—”
Words failed me. I couldn’t answer her because I still couldn't remember my own name. After agonizing over it for what felt like an eternity, a single word surfaced.
“…Altin. Call me Altin.”
Altin.
I didn't know why, but the name simply floated to the surface of my mind. It was a name that had never existed in any memory I possessed, yet it felt strangely right.
“Understood, Lord Altin.”
She accepted the name without the slightest hesitation.
“Then let us proceed to the cathedral. The believers are waiting.”
“…Do I have to pray too?”
“No. You need only receive the prayers of the faithful, Lord Altin.”
“Man, that’s a hell of a burden…”
I scratched the back of my neck. I was someone who had never even managed to give a proper classroom presentation in school, and now I had to stand before a crowd? My stomach twisted in knots.
“Screw it, whatever! I’ll just do it!”
“A wise decision. Please, follow me.”
At that moment, a brilliant radiance surged forth—a sacred, pure white light. The luminescent strands gathered together, weaving into the silhouette of a person. Arms, legs, and a head formed in turn, gradually solidifying into human flesh.
“Uh…? Whoa…?!”
Not merely a crude shape of light, but an actual, living person.
Alabaster skin. Striking blue eyes framed by long, delicate eyelashes. Flowing golden blonde hair. If angels truly existed in this world, the woman standing before me was undoubtedly one of them. She was beautiful beyond any mortal description.
“Come, let us depart.”
“Y-yes, ma’am!”
I was in serious trouble. I had never spoken to an actual woman in my entire life!
{Hey, brat. What are you dawdling for?}
“I’m… I’m going…”
Shaking off my stupor, I hurried after her. Splish, splash. The gentle lap of water against our shoes filled the stillness of the realm. With neither she, nor he, nor I uttering a word, an excruciatingly awkward silence settled over us. It was stifling. Unbearable. But for someone like me, who had spent his entire life dodging other human beings, I had neither the social grace nor the courage to break it.
“We have arrived, Lord Altin.”
“A-already?”
“Yes. Please, enter first.”
We had stopped before a doorway. There were no walls, no ceiling, nothing else around it—only a solitary door standing upright in the middle of the shallow water.
“Here goes…!”
Creak—
Taking a deep breath, I gripped the handle and turned it.