Faker stepped into the water last.
It swallowed him whole.
No memories at first. Just silence.
Then—
A thousand versions of himself. Masks. Names. Roles he had worn until they became comfortable lies. He felt belief not as strength, but as expectation. A person who had lived a hundred times over.
After that he jolted back in a pure white realm. A woman stood there, smiling at him.
"That is creepy you know." Faker said as looked the woman in her eyes.
"It's not creepy if we have met each other." The woman replied as she walked around in circles about him.
"We haven't though." As faker said that the woman started closing her distance.
"Are you sure about that?" The woman stood close now. Too close.
Faker's breath hitched.
"…Marina."
She tilted her head, smiling but not denying it.
"You don't believe in gods" she continued.
"I gave up on gods a long time ago." Faker replied. "Not long after the gods forsake our world."
"Well, here I am standing in front of you. A God. Maria." The goddess cam closer to him an whispered. "Believe in me, and I can give you everything you desire."
"That won't work on me. Even you could sense, i am as powerful as you are." faker said as he flicked his wrist and the white dimension changed into the mansion The three mercenaries stayed at.
"But you are handicapped aren't you. I could solve that." The goddess sat on the couch.
"No offence, but first solve your own problems." Faker replied.
"Fine." The goddess got up and clicked her fingers and the scenery changed again. They were back t the pristine white environment.
"You believe in inevitability. In systems that respond because they must."
He clenched his jaw. "What does that even mean?"
"Because even inevitability needs a direction" she said. "And you, Faker, need to choose what you expect the world to answer to."
The water rose to his chest. Not threatening. Intimate.
"You are not required to believe what Gilbert believes," she said gently. "None of you are. Faith is not uniform. Choose what you trust. Choose what you refuse to let go."
Images flickered—
Faker standing alone, younger, realising the world rewarded confidence more than truth. Realising belief could be manufactured.
He whispered, "There is always hope at the end of a dark passage."
After that Faker also rose from the water basin.
The three of them just stood in the chamber dripping over the floor.
A quiet pressure inside their chests Their were new channels forming, newly recognised. The world no longer resisted them.
The priestess exhaled, shoulders sagging with relief. "It's done."
Tolstoy rolled his shoulders. "Huh. That feels… cleaner."
Grey nodded. "Like the world stopped pushing back."
Faker said nothing.
He looked toward the edge of the chamber.
For just a moment, a woman leaned against the pillar there she had dark hair, familiar smile, festival dress clinging just enough to remind him he hadn't imagined it.
She met his eyes. Smiled a smidge after seeing him.
Then she was gone.
The priestess bowed her head. "Welcome," she said, voice steady with emotion, "to the faith system of this world."
Faker exhaled slowly.
So that's how gods survive, he thought.By walking among the believers.
"Come" princess requested, turning toward the stairs that led upward. "You've been through alignment. That is enough for one day."
They followed her out of the sanctum.
The chamber did not empty when the others left.
Faker stayed behind.
He told himself it was habit—checking exits, checking echoes—but the truth was simpler. Something had remained unfinished, and he had learned long ago that unfinished things came back sharper if ignored.
"You're allowed to leave, you know" a familiar voice said lightly.
He didn't turn.
"I figured" Faker replied. "But you're still here."
A pause.
Then footsteps. Unhurried. Confident. Someone who had never needed permission to occupy space.
She leaned against a pillar near the edge of the chamber, festival clothes instead of divine white. Hair loose. Smile lazy. The same woman who had vanished into the crowd yesterday.
Marina.
"You're perceptive" she said. "Most people stop listening once the miracle ends."
Faker finally faced her. "Most people don't realise the miracle never started."
Her smile widened, not pleased. Seen.
He gestured vaguely at the chamber. "So. Was that the part where I kneel? Or the part where I pretend I'm grateful?"
She laughed. Actually laughed. Warm. Human.
"Gods who demand kneeling are insecure" she said. "I don't care for insecurity."
There it was.
Just ownership.
Faker exhaled slowly. "You're not supposed to talk like this."
"I'm not supposed to do many things" she replied, stepping closer. "Yet here we are."
Silence stretched.
"You didn't ask for anything," Faker said at last. "Not obedience. Not worship. Not even acknowledgement."
"No" she agreed. "Because I wasn't offering power."
She stopped an arm's length away. Close enough that he could feel her presence. Not pressure, not divinity but attention.
"I was offering alignment" she continued. "You already had belief. Strong belief. Dangerous belief."
Faker's eyes hardened. "Belief in what?"
She tilted her head. "Hope"
He didn't deny it.
"That belief" she said softly, "built empires. And broke them. You learned to weaponize expectation."
Faker smiled thinly. "And you learned to hide behind festivals."
Her gaze sharpened, but there was no anger in it.
"I learned" she corrected, "that people believe best when they aren't afraid of believing in themselves."
She turned, walking slowly toward the basin. The water rippled under her shadow.
"You noticed it, didn't you?" she asked. "During the ritual."
Faker said nothing. For the first time since arriving in this world, Faker felt something unfamiliar twist in his chest.
Not fear but Responsibility.
"You're dangerous" he said quietly.
She smiled, unapologetic. "So are you."
The basin stilled completely.
"You won't tell them" she said, it was not a question.
"No" Faker replied. "Not yet"
For a long moment, they simply stood there.
Then Marina stepped back, the warmth receding, the weight thinning until she was just a woman again.
"Good" she said lightly. "Then this worked."
She turned toward the exit, pausing only once. "I hope you three save my world."
And then she was gone.
The chamber was empty. The water reflected nothing.
And Faker stood alone, holding the quiet certainty that he had just spoken to a god who chose to be believed in accidentally.
That night, when the bells rang steady and whole,he did not pray.
He simply expected the world to keep turning.
And it did.