Chapter 390: The Vocation
Sophia was hired.
The interview protocol had been remarkably rudimentary. The Director of the
Evernight Academy Library (Orlando Branch)—a human woman with silver hair and a
stoic gaze—had queried her with exactly three variables:
"Are you literate?" "I am." "Are you physically capable of transporting a
ten-kilogram load of archives?" "I am." "Do you possess a 'Negative Record' in
the Imperial Judiciary database?" "Zero matches."
The elderly woman lowered her head, stamped the form with professional
precision, and looked up. "Initialize your shift tomorrow morning."
The entire sequence had lasted less than two minutes.
As Sophia exited the Director's office, she realized that in her entire life—no,
in the cumulative tens of thousands of years of her existence—this was the first
time she had undergone an audit devoid of power plays, political trade-offs, or
divine bargains.
She was an employee. A Goddess of Time. Monthly compensation: 8 Silver Coins.
Room and board included.
On her first cycle of employment, Sophia manifested at the library wearing her
grey Relief Station attire. The Director handed her a deep blue work-coat with
the Evernight Academy Crest embroidered on the sleeve.
"Equip this."
Sophia donned the coat; the sleeves were slightly over-scaled for her current
avatar, so the Director assisted in rolling them up.
"You are assigned to the Ancient Archives on the third floor," the Director said
as they navigated the corridors. "Pedestrian traffic is statistically low there,
and the inventory is sparse. However, these are archaic documents—high-fragility
assets. Maintain a 'High Caution' protocol when handling them."
"Understood."
"One more thing: the Archives manifest a 'Logic Error' daily after 15:00. The
local temperature crashes significantly. The reason is currently undetermined,"
the Director furrowed her brow. "Academy Maintenance has audited the sector
several times with zero results. If your thermal parameters drop too low, bring
extra insulation."
Sophia nodded.
The Ancient Archives sat at the terminal end of the third floor. The door was
heavy oak; as she pushed it open, the scent of aged parchment and stagnant mana
hit her sensors. The room was modest, walls lined with shelves, a single desk
and two chairs positioned in the center. The window overlooked the rear mountain
range, providing a view of a pine forest.
Sophia closed the door and began a slow sweep of the shelves.
The books were undeniably ancient. Most were Old Era documents salvaged and
categorized after the founding of the Empire. Some were etched in Elven script,
others in Dwarven runes. A few were even written in Archaic Lostarn, a language
she knew intimately.
She casually extracted a volume and flipped the cover.
[CHRONICLES OF THE SOLAR PRIESTS: VOLUME III]
Lostarn Faith data.
Sophia's fingers lingered on the parchment for several seconds. This volume
logged the "Expansion Period" of her religion, approximately three millennia
after her apotheosis. At that time, the Theocracy's jurisdiction covered
one-third of the continent. The "Faith-to-Od" conversion rate was at its peak.
She returned the book and continued her audit. On the second shelf, she located
several hand-bound manuscripts in Elven script. She pulled one—no title—and
found it was the "Field Research Journal" of an Elven scholar.
"...The missionary activities of the Lostarn Faith in the Northern Ranges
triggered high-intensity resistance from the indigenous population. The
Theocracy deployed three 'Extermination Squads,' liquidating all dissenters.
According to surviving variables, the squads utilized a High-Tier Authority
known as 'Divine Punishment.' An entire village was leveled in a single
night..."
Sophia closed the book.
Divine Punishment. That was indeed an Authority she had granted the Theocracy.
As for how the clerics had utilized that power... she had processed zero concern
for the logistics at the time.
She restored the journal to its coordinates and moved to the next section. The
work was simple: reorganize displaced assets, register newly arrived archives,
and log structural damage for repair tickets.
She worked for the entire morning. Not a single unit entered the Archives. The
Director's assessment was accurate; the sector was virtually abandoned.
At noon, she manifested in the first-floor cafeteria to process sustenance with
the other staff. The dining hall was small, occupied by about a dozen units.
Aside from herself, there were three humans, two Elves, a Dwarf, and…
A Skeleton.
Sophia nearly triggered a "Choke Response" on her noodles.
The Skeleton sat diagonally across from her, wearing the same deep blue
work-coat. It was currently auditing a thick registration ledger. The Skeleton
clearly didn't require biological fuel, yet it sat there as if its presence were
a standard social protocol.
The Dwarf nearby leaned over with his bowl. "Hey, Bone-man. Can you assist with
a 'Heavy Lifting' task on the second floor this afternoon? My lower lumbar unit
has suffered a minor failure."
The Skeleton looked up, the blue soul-fire in its sockets flickering. Gah-clack.
"You reported a lumbar failure last cycle. And the cycle before that."
"Because you possess the highest strength-stat in the building!"
"Your 'Laziness' variable is red-lining."
"Fine, fine! I'm lazy. Are you accepting the prompt or not?"
"Accepted."
The Dwarf chuckled, satisfied, and returned to his meal. Sophia lowered her head
and focused on her noodles, feigning zero interest.
A skeleton working in a library, assisting a dwarf with logistics. She realized
her world-view required a massive "System Rebuild."
Returning to the Archives in the afternoon, Sophia resumed her audit.
Around 15:00, the temperature crashed exactly as predicted. She tightened her
coat and maintained her workflow.
While organizing the fourth row of shelving, she discovered an atypical asset.
Strictly speaking, it was a notebook. Bound in vellum, zero title on the cover,
pages yellowed with frayed edges. She opened the first page.
"LOST-ARN CALENDAR, YEAR 9874. AUTUMN. I HAVE ARRIVED AT THE TEMPLE OF TIME."
Sophia's hand trembled. My Temple.
She read on. "The structure has been abandoned for indeterminate eons. The dome
of the Great Hall is 50% collapsed. The altar is overwritten by vines. However,
the murals remain intact, depicting the manifestation of Sophia, the Goddess of
Time."
Sophia's respiratory rhythm skipped a beat. Her name. Her full, divine
designation.
"In the murals, Sophia manifests with silver hair, a white gown, and an
hourglass. Lore claims she wields Authority over the flow of time—acceleration,
deceleration, and brief temporal reversals. After Ragnarok, she vanished along
with the other four Primary Gods. The Theocracy claims she was liquidated, but
Elven archives suggest a different logic."
Sophia flipped the page. "Elven 'Ballads of the Stars' state: 'The Five Pillars
are not dead, merely in Hibernation. When the world-logic requires them again,
the Sleepers shall wake from the Planar Core.'"
She slammed the notebook shut. Her fingers were vibrating.
The Five Pillars are not dead, merely in Hibernation.
Who was the author of this log? She flipped to the final page and found a
signature:
[IMPERIAL ARCHEOLOGICAL INVESTIGATION SQUAD – TEAM 7] [INVESTIGATOR: LIN JI]
[DATE: SPRING, YEAR 3 OF THE EVERNIGHT CALENDAR]
The Empire's Archeological Squad.
Sophia returned the notebook to the shelf and retreated a step. The Empire was
actively investigating the Old Gods. This was not a "Random Variable." An Empire
capable of planetary unification and advanced energy monitoring would naturally
audit the highest-tier powers that had once governed this land.
They were hunting Gods. Or rather, they were confirming if the Gods were truly
"Offline."
Sophia sat back at the desk, staring at the pine forest outside. Her heart rate
had yet to stabilize. The Empire knows of the Old Gods. The Empire can monitor
fluctuations in the Planar Core. The Empire's agents have breached her Divine
Sanctuary.
The critical query: Does the Empire know I have initialized?
Sophia closed her eyes, pushing her microscopic divinity even deeper into her
soul.
Gou. (Lay Low). Maximum Gou protocols remained active.
She opened her eyes, snatched the ledger, and began logging the serial numbers
of the archives she had organized. Her hand moved across the paper—stroke by
stroke—with total stability. But inside, her processors were working at high
speed.
She needed more data. And this "Ancient Archive" was likely her highest-density
information source.
Footsteps approached from the hallway. A knock manifested on the oak door.
"Sophy? Are you present?"
It was the vocal output of her Skeleton colleague.
Sophia took a deep breath and stood up to open the door. The Skeleton stood
there, holding a fresh stack of archives.
"The Director requested that I deliver these. A new batch just arrived from an
Elven ruin. Audit and register them."
Sophia took the stack. Her eyes locked onto the cover of the top volume.
[RAGNAROK: A CHRONICLE OF THE END-TIMES FROM THE ELVEN PERSPECTIVE]
Her grip on the books tightened.
"Acknowledged. Thank you."
The Skeleton turned and departed. Sophia closed the door and set the stack on
the desk. She stared at the title for several seconds.
Then, she sat down and initialized the first page.