【……Hm?】
Jioh set one foot off to the side.
She tilted her chin, just slightly crooked.
“I said I didn’t say I’d make a contract. So why are you talking like a fish you’ve already caught? Am I a fish?”
【What are you saying! You’re a cat. I cannot permit such a weird character interpretation.】
No, that’s not how this is supposed to go.
【Why not?】
Like a raccoon that washed cotton candy in a brook and lost it, the Constellation was flustered.
【Where else would you find a contract that gives away this much?】
Customer, it’s a problem if you suddenly change your mind like this.
Sounding like a rookie agent in their first month, the Constellation argued back emotionally.
Nine-year-old grade-schooler Gyeon Jioh didn’t back down and replied like a seasoned nightmare customer.
“Well, sure, there are a lot of options, but it’s not really clicking.”
【Of course you won’t get it just from words. Experience it yourself. It’ll blow your mind!】
You have to try it on to really feel the difference from other Constellations, Unnie.
It’s an item I handpicked from the cosmos itself. You absolutely won’t regret it.
At the classic overhyped shopping-mall spiel, Jioh folded her arms like a battle-hardened veteran consumer.
This posture is, psychologically, read as discomfort or defensiveness toward the other party.
“……”
Any more talking would be amateurish.
Experts apply pressure with silence.
Growing anxious, the Constellation switched to a pitch tailored to the customer’s eye level.
【R-right.】
【I phrased it a bit pretentiously. I admit it. I repent. I regret it. I was trying to put on airs—my bad.】
【But listen carefully. Kiddo, if you sign a contract with this Oppa, then you can play, eat, and sleep and still always come in first.】
【Because of Seon-yeong next door who’s always first in the whole school, even if you didn’t show it, how stressed have you been all this time? Oppa understands all the hurt in our baby’s heart.】
“Hm……”
【From now on, whenever that nasty Seon-yeong brags about being first, all our Jioh has to do is laugh at her inside.】
【‘Hey, you little brat! You’re only first at Saetbyeol Elementary? I’m first in the world. I’ve got a truckload of big brothers and sisters under me! Hmph!’】
“Hmmm……”
True to a people weak to the sweet taste of revenge soda, little Korean kid Gyeon Jioh wavered.
The Constellation’s sharp-tongued impression was unusually flavorful, too.
After that came every repertoire under the sun—an easy, honey-licking life differentiated from everyone else’s with guaranteed luxurious comfort; a super-deluxe life where you never lift a finger, not even get your hands wet, and so on.
Having trotted out this and that, the Constellation made a final declaration.
【I-I’ll make sure you walk only on flower paths.】
“……”
【Our Gyeon Jioh can do everything except what she doesn’t want to.】
“Okay.”
【If that’s still not enough…! Hm?】
“I said okay.”
Why? If you don’t like it, return it.
Doesn’t matter to me.
Unfolding her arms with lofty air, Jioh clasped her hands behind her back like a tyrant from the Joseon era.
……This cheeky little brat. She’s really toying with me.
Before that tiny squirt could throw another tantrum, he called for the administrator.
【Babel.】
Beneath Gyeon Jioh’s feet, buoyancy rose.
The Transcendents—the Constellations (星位)—who appeared with the calamity that led the world toward its end.
As to what exactly these beings are, opinions still differ to this day.
Some believed they were benevolent absolutes who descended to help humanity.
Others hated them as in league with Babel, one of the causes of the apocalypse.
But when you weighed everything, the conclusion always came out similar.
Whether they were good, or evil.
Whatever they were.
If not for them, humanity would have met its end long ago.
The power they granted to an Avatar (化身) once the bond was made came without any price.
From the observatories atop the Tower, the stars simply watched, simply aided,
and simply guarded.
Thus, through a contract with the stars, humans exceeded their limits and succeeded in becoming more than mere Awakeners.
Babel called this contract a sacred promise—a “Covenant.”
As if it had been called that from times immemorial, as if it were only natural.
Jioh drew a breath.
Different.
Even a child’s intuition could tell that something tremendous was about to happen—properly.
The surroundings darkened sharply.
Soon, an oppressive presence fell like a weight.
A Constellation, whose ultimate grade
explosively permeated the space.
- -. – – – .
Unknowable golden sigils began to densely fill the air.
Then, as if a crack ran through a wall, the space split—and in the abyss revealed, an eye!
‘What is that?’
Jioh swallowed dry. Her baby hairs stood on end. Goosebumps? Fear?
The instinctive terror of an overwhelming difference in grade bore down on her.
He whispered, soothingly.
【Do not fear.】
【There is no need.】
【This is a vow of soul and source.】
【By the oldest promise, you and I shall share a fate.】
【I shall watch over you to your very last, final step.】
【Gyeon Jioh.】
【Will you make a Covenant with me?】
……
……
She hated ambiguity.
She hated weakness even more. If she was going to do it, it had to be for real.
Jioh checked one last thing.
“It’s really, really strong, right?”
【It’s hard when the Avatar is too young. Yes, it’s strong.】
“……Then change you into an Unnie. If an Ahjussi is stuck to me all the time, that’s icky. Feels pervy.”
【Even when you’re spouting such nonsense, you’re adorable, honestly.】
“You said I’m an Avatar. I’m obviously the one and only exception.”
【You haven’t even answered yet.】
“I will.”
The Constellation laughed.
She couldn’t see it, but she felt it.
『The Ultimate Constellation, “■■■■,” requests Covenant notarization from the administrator.』
[Babel Network confirms an external special contract.]
[Accessing the history of subject Gyeon Jioh for approval.]
[Insufficient access privileges. Operation aborted.]
[With higher star-realm authority, the verification procedure for Covenant approval is waived.]
[Executing Covenant inscription.]
The alerts—like none she’d ever seen before—appeared, and at the same time,
beneath her buoyant feet, a sigil—the emblem of Babel she knew well—was drawn.
Then the space, whoomp, dropped out.
“……Hup!”
A soundless scream rang out.
She couldn’t tell which way was ceiling and which was floor.
As directions went haywire, Jioh, now somehow on her back, was plummeting fast.
Clack, clack.
The feel of chains binding her whole body.
Dark golden chains sprouted from the air and wrapped around and swallowed her.
And like that, her vision receded.
【My little Jioh.】
[The Sole True Avatar — Gyeon Jioh.]
【The Covenant is concluded.】
[Your Constellation, “Reader of Fate,” announces that the Covenant has been concluded.]
【You are.】
[You are.]
【This time as well, mine—■■■■’s. ■■■■.】
[— Error occurred. Unable to read the Constellation’s voice.]
Within her dimming consciousness.
The last thing she remembered was a hand stroking her forehead and a gentle voice.
【Do not grieve too much when you return. It was an unavoidable span to receive a different grade.】
【Whether early or late, the result would not have changed.】
What those words meant became clear at once.
When Jioh opened her eyes, she was on a hospital bed.
Not at Korean Medicine Hospital “A,” but at a university hospital in Seoul, and the family who came running were all in mourning dress.
“J-Jioh. Hhic, Jioh. Thank you, thank you….. our Jioh. My daughter, my baby, my little one…… Mom is right here. Will our girl recognize Mom? Are you okay? Hm?”
“Mom……”
“Yes. It’s Mom. It’s okay now, it’s okay. It’s all over, it’s over……”
In her mother’s sobs as she stroked her, Gyeon Jioh stared blankly at the calendar.
The day she woke was April 1.
Fittingly, and all too ironically,
it was April Fools’ Day.