Sanctuary Declaration

I woke up to find a translucent blue window, about the size of a smartphone screen, floating in midair.

Okay, hang on. Getting a reward for living a decent life was fine and all — but a Saintess? A Saintess of a Ruined Nation?

"…What is this."

I doubted my own ears for a second.

The deep, solid voice that should have come out of my throat was gone. In its place spilled a slender, clear girl's voice — soft and composed.

The wrongness didn't stop at my voice.

My field of vision sat absurdly low. The living room cabinet that used to sit at eye level now loomed like a distant cliff.

"…Huh?"

I snapped my gaze down at my own body.

The oversized T-shirt that had fit my shoulders perfectly yesterday now hung loose, sliding off to bare my collarbones. The wrists poking out of the sleeves were so thin they practically begged for someone to protect them. My thighs were pale and slender enough that a single kick looked like it might snap them clean in half.

"Th-this can't be real."

In place of an ordinary, sturdy male body stood a fragile girl who looked like a stiff breeze could send her to the hospital.

Unable to accept any of it, I scrambled into the bathroom. The moment I saw my reflection in the mirror, I froze solid.

Staring back at me was a pretty girl with porcelain skin, vacant sparkling eyes, unmistakably cute white hair, and violet irises.

"No way. That's seriously me? This?"

I pinched my cheek hard, just to check.

"Aaagh! That hurts!"

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. It hurt like hell — which meant this was no dream.

I had genuinely gone to sleep as myself and woken up Awakened… and simultaneously turned into a little girl.

I tried to steady myself with a deep breath, but all it produced was the image of the pretty girl in the mirror stamping her feet and looking like she was about to cry. Twenty-plus years of living as a red-blooded Korean guy on the inside, and this on the outside — the gap was horrifying.

Not that anyone else would notice. To the rest of the world, I'd just look like a cute girl.

A wave of pure injustice surged up my throat.

While other people went out and had fun, I'd spent every weekend at the orphanage looking after the elderly. Even after growing up, I'd donated hundreds of thousands of won a month to struggling neighbors. They said living kindly brings blessings — was turning into a little girl supposed to be mine?

"Status window! Show me my status window!"

The moment I shouted at the empty air, blue layers of light unfurled as if they'd been waiting for the cue.

I scrolled further down to check the traits and skills.

Esilly, my ass. I already had a name of my own, thank you very much.

"…These are all non-combat skills!"

Every last ability was EX-grade — the problem was that every last one of them was support or healing. Reading through my stats, physical attributes like Strength and Agility came in below even an E-grade hunter.

Sure, this was a world where Gates had erupted and Awakened had become the new aristocracy — but no matter how broken your skills were, walking into a Gate with zero offensive options was a one-way ticket to becoming a monster's lunch.

Worse than that, just existing outside in this soft little body and pretty-girl face was terrifying on its own. Who knew when some creep would get ideas? Wandering around ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠defenseless like this was out of the question.

I had zero confidence in the public safety of post-Cataclysm South Korea. Compared to the West, where crime was a daily fact of life, things here were still relatively civilized — but I was currently cute enough to be a walking hazard.

"Ah… I was supposed to volunteer today."

I had orphanage duty scheduled. The place was practically home — I'd been born and raised there, and even as an adult I still visited once a week. The elderly couple who ran it ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had offered to adopt me more times than I could count; I'd always firmly refused, but we were that close.

"Wait — what about my ID…?"

Cases of Awakening changing someone's gender or even species weren't unheard of. When someone's appearance changed drastically, the government sometimes issued a new identity. But if I showed up for volunteer work, would the two of them even recognize me?

Obviously not. Not a chance.

So did that mean I needed to go to the Awakened Association first and get my identity updated? Then again, if word got out that I was EX-grade, the fallout would be enormous.

Worry after worry piled up until my head felt like it was on fire.

"I don't know anymore… I'm just going back to sleep."

And with that, I crawled straight back into bed and decided to deal with none of it.

A furious buzzing from my smartphone dragged me out of sleep. The name on the screen read Director Lee — the old man who ran the orphanage and had looked after me like his own son.

"…Hello?"

I answered with one hand pressed over my face, heart hammering at the thought that my voice might sound wrong.

"Junwoo, didn't you say you were coming today? Were you still asleep?"

"Ah, um… Director. The thing is, something came up today, so…"

"Something came up, my foot. Why does your voice sound like that? Did you catch a nasty cold?"

"It's not that… I Awakened. And it went a little — no, a lot — weird…"

"Hm? You Awakened? Heh heh. Just come over and tell us about it. Your grandmother's been bustling around since morning making the galbi-jjim you love, anyway."

"…Yes, sir. I'll be right there."

The call clicked off. My head ached trying to figure out how to explain any of this — but these were the people who knew me best. Honesty was the only option.

With nothing else to wear, I rolled up the sleeves of a baggy hoodie, yanked the drawstrings tight until the hood swallowed my face, and stepped outside. The familiar neighborhood alleys felt strangely wide and stretched-out today. Hitching up the sagging waistband of my pants with every step, I hurried through the orphanage front gate.

"So you're here."

The old man sweeping the yard turned at the sound of the gate. What peeked out from under the deep hood was a slender neck, a small and fragile frame beneath it — and a white-haired pretty girl who clearly had no idea what to do with herself.

His broom stopped mid-stroke.

"……Whose kid are you?"

"It's me, Director. Junwoo."

"…What?"

He set the broom down, narrowed his eyes, and came closer. He stared hard at the face inside the hoodie for a long moment — then let out a disbelieving laugh.

"What kind of nonsense is that? You, Junwoo? You're half the size you used to be…"

"It's true. I woke up this morning, Awakened, and my body just… turned into this."

I raised my voice in pure frustration — and the moment he caught that trademark awkward hand-wave of mine and the shifty look I always got when I was flustered, the light in his eyes changed completely.

"…Wait. Is it really you, Junwoo? That half-awkward, reading-the-room look is pure Junwoo."

The living room door opened and Grandmother walked out from the kitchen in her apron.

"Honey, who's here? Is that Junwoo?"

"Come look at this! Our Junwoo Awakened and showed up as a little girl!"

"Good heavens, what kind of ridiculous— oh my!"

She took one look at me ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠buried in the hoodie and clapped a hand over her mouth in shock.

I let out a long sigh and walked them carefully through everything — waking up that morning, the contents of the status window, the complete overhaul of my gender and appearance from the Awakening, and the bizarre holy skills that had come with it. All of it.

The two of them listened in silence, glanced at each other, and then nodded.

"Now that you mention it, that tracks. Ever since the Great Cataclysm, the news has occasionally covered people whose species or entire appearance changed after Awakening."

"That's right. They always say the wildest things keep happening — and our Junwoo turned into a cute little girl."

"Wait, you're just going to believe me that easily?"

Their instant acceptance was so complete it threw me off balance. Director Lee chuckled and ruffled my hair.

"What else am I supposed to do? Voice and looks may have changed completely, but the way you talk, the look in your eyes, the way you carry yourself — it all gives you away."

Just like that, the thing I'd been most afraid of resolved itself without a fight. My entire social ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠circle essentially began and ended with these two, so there was nothing else I really needed to worry about.

Still, I made them swear not to breathe a word of this to anyone. My class was EX-grade — a rank so rare that fewer than five people in the world held it — and given that it was a non-combat specialty, having my identity leak would put me in serious danger. Rival nations would almost certainly send assassins, and neither the Korean government nor the Awakened Association was strong enough to protect me from that.

After a solid meal, I stretched out on the raised wooden platform in the yard, one hand resting on a comfortably full stomach. The soft, smooth give of my own skin under my fingers still felt deeply strange.

"Big sis! Where'd you come from?"

"Sis. Are you a college student too?"

I gave the little kids half-hearted answers while pulling up the status window again.

A passive, huh.

The Shrine could wait. I already knew exactly where the Sanctuary was going.

"Might as well put it on the orphanage."

It wasn't my land, but this place — run by the two people who were family in every way that mattered — was a far better Sanctuary than my five-pyeong rented room. And if there were buffs involved, the kids here would benefit too.

"Sanctuary Declaration."

"Yes."

I'd been half-expecting some massive visual effect or dramatic spectacle. Instead, the confirmation window simply appeared — and nothing else happened.

"Huh?"

A management menu? Curious, sure — but I set that aside for now. There was something else I'd been itching to test.

The skill description never specified that Sanctuaries and Shrines had to be physical spaces. So couldn't something intangible — an internet site, for example — also qualify as a Shrine?

A Shrine's size limit was roughly ten pyeong. In the real world, that was almost too small to be useful no matter where you put it.

"Community access."

At the words, a familiar interface bloomed over the blue status window: the site officially named the Korean Awakened Community. Most people just shortened it to Hangakgal — Korean Awakened Gallery.

"I'll designate Hangakgal as a Shrine."

At the same time, a notice shot to the top of the gallery.

Posting froze for a split second — then exploded.

"A sub-mod?"

In gallery slang, that meant an assistant manager had just been created. I checked in a hurry.

A brand-new badge had appeared next to my username.

Why on earth had I been made a sub-mod?