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"I dreamed of a god..."
"But I'm sorry, Senior Brother. I can't share it with you."
Isolte gazed at Allen, her eyes dissolving into the darkness. Yet Allen still "read" her emotions clearly through the Water God's senses.
His lips parted, but no words came out.
Was Allen some dense anime protagonist who pretended not to notice while girls fought over him, passively waiting for good fortune to fall into his lap?
Absolutely not.
He was the type to seize his own future with both hands—meticulous, even obsessive.
His orphanage upbringing had sharpened his ability to read emotions, making him acutely sensitive to the subtlest shifts in others' moods.
But for a long time, even when he noticed, he couldn't bring himself to acknowledge or accept them.
Because of the insecurity bred from growing up without close bonds.
Because of the fear that Hitogami would exploit any emotional attachments to manipulate fate.
Because of his stubborn determination to avoid the tragedies of the original timeline and achieve a perfect ending in this life.
Like ignoring the unspoken tension when he and Roxy held hands in the Rikarisu forest.
Like brushing off the concern in the air when his family "tried" him in his bedroom after returning to Buena.
Like failing to see the trust and dependence in those reddish-brown eyes beneath the moonlight as they fell into the snowy ravine.
But these flaws—his inability to be honest—had been slowly mended.
By Roxy's letters.
By Sylphiette's relentless efforts.
By the hugs that crashed into him after the blizzard.
Love, in all its forms, had filled those gaps.
So he understood exactly what Isolte was thinking.
And precisely because he understood, he had deliberately framed their reunion under the context of the Water God style—establishing a clear senior-junior relationship from the start.
Was Isolte, his childhood friend in this life, a bad person?
No. She was wonderful.
Too wonderful.
Her concern—"Senior Brother... you must have suffered a lot, haven't you?"—had never wavered.
Looking back, her feelings were sincere, unwavering, always fixed on him.
But.
Allen already had Roxy and Sylphiette.
Some people were blessings just to meet.
To ask for more, to make the two already by his side suffer—what kind of man would that make him?
This was Allen's Mushoku Tensei.
Not Rudeus'.
He couldn't replicate the original Rudeus' harem ending—balancing Roxy and Sylphiette's feelings on a knife's edge, relying on sheer luck to avoid disaster.
He wouldn't.
Either the people beside him stood with him, smiling without shadows.
Or he wouldn't repeatedly hurt them chasing some self-serving "possibility."
If he added Isolte to the mix—
Roxy, that clueless little teacher, might not object.
But what about Sylphiette?
What about Isolte herself?
A devout Millis follower, raised on monogamy—could she accept a harem?
And.
And!
HITOGAMI!
That vile shadow looming over him—the more people he cared about, the more blades Hitogami could wield against him.
It was already risky enough. The capital trip was already walking a tightrope—
How to convince both families in Buena (and the Boreas household) to leave Fittoa before the Teleport Incident?
How to prevent Hitogami from interfering through his apostles?
The plan was already in motion. The pieces were set since yesterday in Buena.
No room for error.
The more Allen thought, the sharper his gaze became. Just as he was about to speak—
Isolte's voice cut through the silence.
She glanced at her door, her expression distant.
"Sylphiette's reactions... are cute. She's a good person. Senior Brother has good taste."
"May God bless you both."
With that, she turned, stepping toward her room. Her hand touched the doorknob.
A pause.
"Senior Brother, you haven't slept all night. Rest soon. I'll go back first."
The knob turned with a creak.
Then—
"Wait, Isolte."
Her fingers froze. For a split second, she considered ignoring him and walking in.
But the thought vanished as quickly as it came.
She released the knob, her smile self-deprecating as she turned back.
"Senior Brother, you—"
Her words died.
The darkness should have obscured Allen's face.
But his eyes burned like torches—just like in her dream—searing into her heart.
"Isolte, if you don't want to share the dream, I won't ask again. I have no right to demand it."
"But..."
His voice was steady, earnest.
"Today, I need to say this. It's important. For both of us."
"I want to ask you for a favor. It might sound absurd, but please consider it carefully. In all these years, this is my first request to you. I mean it. And I trust you—so please, trust me too."
"Can you?"
Isolte stood motionless, gripping her sheathed sword. The hallway was silent save for their breathing.
Yet the darkness itself seemed to tremble.
The night was still.
But her pulse roared.
The night was loud.
With the emotions surging in her chest.
"Senior Brother... Of course I trust you. Don't say such things again..."
Allen exhaled.
"First, I'm sorry, Isolte."
Her heart plummeted. Before she could process the sudden shift from hope to despair—
His next words landed like stones.
"I know you've believed in Millis since childhood. I know it's because of your parents. In the capital, I couldn't help you—just empty words, dragging Dantoris into sleepovers to distract you from the loneliness."
"But in the end, it barely helped. Because some truths couldn't be changed. So... I'm sorry."
Her breath hitched. Her heartbeat—so loud she thought it might burst—drowned all else.
Heat rushed to her cheeks, shattering her noble composure.
"You poured your heart into Millis. I understood. I respected that. But things have changed. Now, what I want to say is—"
Isolte's eyes flicked to the door in panic. She tried to interrupt.
"Senior Brother, you—"
"The god is the god. You are you."
The words struck like lightning. She thought of Zenith's defiance—the broken doctrine.
And Allen's gaze—blazing.
"I'm asking you to let go of blind faith. Question Him. Trust your own heart."
"Even if He appears before you. Even if He seems worthy of trust."
"Doubt Him."
"Then, in the future—or now—if I clash with this 'god'..."
"Choose based on your heart. Don't let Him sway you."
"If that's too hard, just remember one thing:"
"Trust me."
"And..."
"Choose me."
Allen swallowed, picturing Hitogami's slimy grin. He kept his tone gentle, careful not to trample her beliefs.
"Can you? Would this request... be too much?"
Silence.
But not dead silence.
Because two hearts—both trained in the Water God style—pounded violently.
Isolte stared at him, her expression wavering between tears and confusion.
Finally, she whispered:
"The god is the god... I am me?"
A question to herself? Or an answer to him?
Allen relaxed slightly—
Then froze.
Plink. Plink. Plink.
Tears fell from Isolte's face like shattered crystal. She kept murmuring:
"The god is the god..."
"I am... me?"
Allen's brain short-circuited.
Why is she crying?!
He scrambled to explain, terrified he'd been too harsh—
Then paused.
Something felt... off.
Before he could react, Isolte wiped her face roughly.
"Sorry... Senior Brother, I need... to think. I need to calm down."
And like a startled deer, she yanked the door open—
"GYAH!"
—and tripped over Sylphiette, who had been eavesdropping. They tumbled inside in a tangle of limbs.
A flash of—something—before the door slammed shut behind them.
Leaving Allen gaping like a fish.
"Huh? Wait, what?!"
"She needs to... think about it?!"
"No, no, no—that's not what I meant!"
His mutters echoed in the empty hall.
Finally, he groaned.
"Damn it."
"I've turned into a generic harem protagonist."
Moonlight Through the Window
The guest room was brighter than the hallway.
Black and white hair tangled on the floor, faces inches apart.
Sylphiette lay beneath Isolte, her reddish-brown eyes calm despite being caught eavesdropping.
Isolte's face was hidden behind her dark locks, unmoving.
After a beat, Sylphiette reached up, brushing the hair aside—
And felt the wetness on Isolte's cheeks.
Salty. Bitter.
She knew that taste well.
So she simply wiped the tears away, her touch firm.
Then—
Isolte hugged her.
Burying her face in Sylphiette's neck.
Sylphiette blinked, then patted her back gently.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..."
"It's okay... It's okay..."
Outside the Door
Allen raised his hand to knock—again and again—but stopped each time.
The silence inside was terrifying.
Then—
Creak.
His own door opened. Rudeus peered out, bleary-eyed.
"Allen? Why are you still up? I heard voices—was I dreaming?"
Allen licked his dry lips.
"Not a dream. I was just talking to Isolte and Sylphiette—"
"Got it."
SLAM.
Rudeus' voice floated through the door:
"Carry on. Pretend I don't exist, Lord Allen."
Allen twitched. He yanked the door back open, dragged Rudeus out by the collar, and dumped him on the floor.
"I wasn't—ugh!"
Allen hauled him up, staring dead into his soul.
"Emergency. I need advice."
Rudeus blinked, suddenly wide awake.
"Uh. Advice on... what? Last time, I didn't even get to—"
THWACK.
"Listen. If you accidentally say something to a girl that gets misinterpreted in a catastrophic way—how do you fix it? Fast. Use that big brain of yours."
Rudeus pondered.
"...Get on your knees and beg for forgiveness?"
A long silence.
Then, through gritted teeth:
"Never mind. Useless."
"Cool. Good luck!"
"You—!"
"This is a you problem! Wait—ACK!"
Soon, Rudeus was "asleep" again.
Allen slumped by the window, staring at the darkened tavern across the street.
Since Isolte entered that room, he'd called for the system repeatedly.
No response.
Hitogami had gone offline—again.
But the timing was unclear.
When Isolte first appeared?
When Sylphiette woke up?
When he gave that speech?
No way to tell.
But one thing was certain:
The future had changed again.
For Sylphiette. For Isolte.
Sylphiette's "dream" and Isolte's "divine vision" weren't the biggest shifts tonight.
The real variable was his words.
Isolte's tears.
Her murmured "I need to think."
Something had shifted—steering toward a possibility he'd avoided.
A turning point?
Allen's mind raced.
This chain of events—the ambush, his panic over Hitogami's schemes, Isolte's "misunderstanding"—felt orchestrated.
A series of "coincidences," each reliant on the last.
Classic Hitogami.
But with only three apostles, could Hitogami alone engineer this?
His own actions had only changed after realizing both girls woke simultaneously. If only Isolte had stirred, he wouldn't have warned her.
And Sylphiette's dream showed no signs of divine interference.
Yet the outcome required all three of them.
Not Hitogami.
Change. Calculation. Hitogami's disappearance.
A perfect sequence.
Allen's eyes narrowed.
Puppetmaster...
Did you have a hand in this?
This turning point—
Did Hitogami win?
Or lose again?
The wind outside gave no answer.
Dawn approached.
The wheels of fate rolled on.
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