Inside a massive castle built from gold and an unknown white stone, a woman walked through long, radiant corridors toward her office.

  The castle was vast and grand, enough to put any royal or imperial palace to shame. Every wall shimmered faintly with divine light, and the air itself carried an invisible weight of authority. This was not merely a residence.

  It was a seat of godhood.

  The woman moving through the halls was Thymera, Goddess of Bravery and Cowardice. One of the gods of Helena’s original world.

  She walked with calm elegance, her posture straight, her expression neutral and composed. Not a hint of hesitation showed on her face. This was the bearing of a goddess who ruled without question.

  Angels filled the halls.

  Some wore simple uniforms and carried tools, clearly laborers. Others moved with scrolls and ledgers in hand, civil officials managing the endless affairs of the Upper World. And then there were angels clad in ceremonial armor, those who served Thymera directly.

  As she passed, angels stopped and bowed deeply.

  “Your Majesty.”

  “Goddess Thymera.”

  Thymera acknowledged them with small nods, neither warm nor cold. She was not only a goddess but also a monarch. Her white castle stood at the center of a vast angelic city, and most angels within her territory worshipped her above all others.

  Yet today, her steps were heavier than usual.

  Not because she was tired. A divine being could not feel fatigue like mortals.

  Something else weighed on her.

  She reached the doors to her office.

  Waiting there was an angel wearing thin-framed glasses, her blond hair tied neatly behind her head. She stood perfectly straight, hands folded, as if she had been waiting for some time.

  The moment Thymera stopped, the angel dropped to one knee.

  “Greetings, Your Majesty.”

  Thymera paused, then nodded. “Rise, Rionis. We have a lot of work to do.”

  Rionis rose smoothly. She was Thymera’s personal assistant and the highest-ranking civil officer in her territory.

  Without another word, Rionis stepped forward and opened the doors, gesturing respectfully for Thymera to enter first.

  But Thymera stopped.

  Her foot hovered just above the carpet.

  Something felt… wrong.

  Her brows knitted slightly as a faint unease crawled up her spine.

  Was she being paranoid?

  Was there a trap?

  Had someone dared to do something inside her own castle?

  She hesitated.

  Rionis noticed and turned back. “Is something wrong, Your Majesty?”

  Thymera frowned. “I don’t know. I just feel like… I shouldn’t enter this room.”

  Rionis blinked, then smiled lightly. “There’s nothing wrong, Your Majesty. I’ve gone in and out of this room countless times today. I didn’t sense anything unusual.”

  Her smile lingered just a little too long.

  Thymera noticed it.

  She swallowed.

  Rionis continued, her tone gentle. “Please enter. I assure you, nothing bad will happen once you step inside.”

  Thymera hesitated again.

  Rionis was not someone who would betray her. That much she trusted completely. And yet, the strange feeling refused to fade.

  Still, turning back now would be unbecoming of the Goddess of Bravery.

  She stepped inside.

  The office was exactly as it should be.

  Grand. Dignified. Orderly.

  A divine desk made of polished brown wood stood at the center. Shelves lined the walls, filled with neatly arranged documents. Soft white light illuminated the room evenly.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Nothing happened.

  Thymera released a quiet breath she did not realize she had been holding.

  “Maybe I really was imagining things,” she muttered.

  Then she heard it.

  Click.

  A heavy metallic sound echoed behind her.

  Thymera turned sharply.

  Rionis stood by the door, fastening a large reinforced lock. The mechanism slid into place with a solid, unmistakable clunk.

  “What are you doing, Rio?” Thymera asked, confused.

  In public, they were goddess and servant.

  In private, Rionis was more like a friend. Thymera only used the nickname “Rio” when no one else was around.

  Rionis didn’t answer. She gave the lock one final pull to ensure it wouldn’t open.

  Thymera stared at her. “Why did you lock the door? Is someone trying to assassinate me?”

  Rionis turned slowly.

  Her expression was calm. Too calm.

  “No, my goddess,” she said casually. “I locked it so you can’t run away.”

  Thymera laughed. A short, amused giggle escaped her lips.

  “Run away? Why would I run? I govern Bravery.”

  “Please hold onto those words,” Rionis replied.

  She walked to the desk and snapped her fingers.

  A storage portal opened above it.

  Stacks of paper poured out.

  Not one stack.

  Not two.

  Dozens.

  They slammed onto the desk, piling higher and higher until the entire surface disappeared beneath them.

  Thymera’s face went pale.

  She swallowed hard.

  Slowly, she turned back toward the door.

  The lock gleamed mockingly.

  “Ah—”

  Before she could scream, Rionis’s cold voice cut in behind her.

  “Didn’t you say you wouldn’t run away, Lady of Bravery?”

  Thymera turned back stiffly, her neck moving like it had forgotten how to work.

  Her eyes met Rionis’s.

  Rionis was smiling.

  Thymera let out an awkward laugh and rubbed the back of her neck. “Rio… listen. Could you open the door for a moment? I suddenly need to… use the bathroom.”

  Rionis raised an eyebrow. “Why would a divine being need a bathroom?”

  Thymera froze.

  Her smile stiffened.

  It was the worst excuse she could have made. A goddess didn’t eat. Didn’t sleep. Didn’t relieve herself like a mortal.

  Rionis’s voice dropped. “Get your ass down here. I won’t say it twice.”

  She pointed at Thymera’s throne-like office chair.

  Thymera opened her mouth. “Hey, you can’t talk to me like—”

  “Come here. Now.”

  Thymera immediately rushed over and dropped into the chair.

  In front of her rose an overwhelming mountain of paperwork.

  Just looking at it made her dizzy.

  Rionis placed a hand on Thymera’s shoulder, gripping just hard enough to keep her in place.

  She leaned close and spoke near Thymera’s ear.

  “Did you enjoy your extra-long vacation?”

  Thymera didn’t answer.

  Rionis tightened her grip. “Answer me.”

  “…Yes,” Thymera whispered.

  Rionis let out a soft, humorless laugh.

  “Of course you did. While dumping all your work on me.”

  Her voice trembled, anger carefully restrained.

  “I haven’t seen my children in over a month.”

  Thymera’s shoulders slumped.

  Her gaze dropped to the desk.

  She knew she had messed up.

  What was supposed to be a ten-day inspection of life in her Upper World territory had somehow turned into two full months of wandering, sightseeing, and doing absolutely nothing.

  Even ten days of absence was enough to overwhelm the civil offices.

  Two months had been hell.

  And Rionis had taken all of it head-on.

  The castle, the city, the Upper World, and countless matters connected to the Mortal World had all piled onto her shoulders.

  Rionis straightened.

  “I’ve been waiting for this moment,” she said calmly.

  Thymera swallowed.

  Rionis’s voice was steady, but every word landed like a blade.

  “I don’t even know what my children look like anymore.”\

  Thymera blinked, confused. “It’s only been a month, not a century.”

  Rionis slowly turned her head.

  Her glare hit Thymera like a physical force.

  Thymera immediately broke eye contact, her shoulders shrinking. “S-sorry. My mistake. People can forget faces in a month.”

  Rionis let out a low laugh.

  It wasn’t warm.

  It wasn’t amused.

  It was chilling.

  “Don’t worry,” Rionis said softly. “I’ll make sure that for the next few days, every time you look at another person, you’ll see documents instead of their face.”

  Her smile widened. “I will personally make that happen.”

  A cold shiver ran down Thymera’s spine.

  For the first time, she truly wanted to run away.

  If this were anyone else, the locked door would mean nothing. She was a divine being. She could leave whenever she wanted.

  But she didn’t.

  Because if she ran now, she didn’t want to imagine what Rionis would do afterward.

  Thymera might be lazy. She might be irresponsible.

  But she was kind.

  And she cared about her people.

  If she truly wanted to abandon her duties, she would have done so long ago. She wouldn’t still be sitting here.

  Rionis straightened, her expression shifting instantly.

  She entered work mode.

  “There are many documents that only you can process,” Rionis said. “I haven’t touched them. They require your authority.”

  She pointed at the towering stacks. “Read them carefully. Most concern matters of both the Upper World and the Lower World.”

  She continued speaking, her voice steady and relentless, listing categories, approvals, and consequences.

  Thymera’s eyes began to glaze over.

  Her soul felt like it was leaving her body.

  Rionis kept going.

  Thymera suddenly raised both hands. “Wait! Wait! Wait!”

  Rionis stopped and looked down at her. “What.”

  Thymera hesitated. Then asked carefully, “If… if I finish all this… will you forgive me?”

  Rionis laughed.

  Then her tone turned completely flat.

  “No.”

  Thymera froze.

  “And for your information,” Rionis continued, “this barely covers one percent of the work still waiting inside my storage portal.”

  She leaned forward slightly. “So hurry up and finish this batch.”

  Thymera’s face drained of color.

  “I… I will die,” she whispered.

  “Then I’ll bring you back from the dead,” Rionis replied without hesitation. “The work comes first.”

  She tapped the stack sharply. “Many matters are pending divine approval. Finish these, and I’ll bring the next batch.”

  Then, coldly, “You don’t have time to chat.”

  Thymera felt tears well up.

  But she didn’t cry.

  Because she knew this was her fault.

  That ten-day inspection hadn’t turned into a two-month vacation by accident. She had chosen to stay longer, again and again, enjoying herself just a little more each time.

  And before she knew it, two months had passed.

  As Thymera stared down at the documents, drowning in regret, Rionis suddenly slammed two specific files onto the desk in front of her.

  Thud.

  Thud.

  “These two,” Rionis said sharply. “These are the most important.”

  Thymera forced herself to focus.

  Rionis continued, “A dimensional fissure appeared again. A few days ago.”

  Thymera’s breath hitched.

  “It’s the same type,” Rionis added. “Identical to the one recorded seven years ago.”

  Thymera slowly lifted her head.

  Her exhaustion faded.

  Something else replaced it.