A Certain Multiverse's Holy Right

Roy awoke to a soft sensation on his head and a faint, pleasant fragrance tickling his nose.

His eyes snapped open, scanning his surroundings with caution.

The world around him was a vast expanse of grey, stretching endlessly to the horizon. It was empty, eerily quiet, and steeped in an unsettling yet mysterious aura.

To his surprise, Roy found himself lying down. Alarmed, he instinctively tried to get up.

But a small pair of hands pressed against his shoulders, gently pushing him back down.

Raising his gaze, Roy's eyes locked with those of his caretaker.

She appeared to be a girl of thirteen or fourteen, her hair a light shade of lavender tied into twin tails, its ethereal hue reminiscent of the infamous Gorgon Medusa of Greek mythology. Her delicate face carried a doll-like cuteness that radiated a youthful innocence, but there was a beguiling allure in her features that made one forget her apparent age and think of a "mature woman" instead.

She wore a thin white dress that accentuated her fragile, almost overly delicate figure.

To Roy's mild embarrassment, he realized he was lying on her lap.

He felt a brief flash of discomfort but quickly suppressed it. He wasn't some bashful boy who'd turn red at the sight of a woman. Regaining his composure, he asked cautiously, "Who are you? Where am I?"

In truth, Roy already had a good idea who this girl was: Pandora, the origin of everything in the world of Campione. The creator of the Campione, and the first woman crafted by the gods of Greek mythology.

It was only now that Roy understood Aiwass's earlier warning—about not learning too much about the workings of this world. Knowing too much could breed arrogance, causing one to inadvertently act superior, which would be a dangerous mistake.

If Roy inadvertently revealed that he knew Pandora's identity, it might spark her curiosity or suspicion. If she refused to use the divine tool Circle of Usurpation for the ritual of creating a Campione, all of his efforts and the hard-won triumph of slaying a god would go to waste.

After all, the act of slaying a Heretic God and seizing its powers wasn't a natural rule of this world. It was a ritual crafted by Pandora herself—a grand magic. Its conditions were exceedingly stringent, requiring the slayer to kill a god with their own hands and offer the god as a sacrifice.

So, Roy made a conscious effort to feign ignorance, presenting himself as confused and lost.

Pandora didn't seem to suspect a thing. With an amused smile, she leaned closer and said, "I'm your mother, darling~~~ As for this place? Hmm, I suppose it wouldn't hurt to tell you. You'll forget it soon anyway.

"...This is the Boundary between Life and Immortality. The Greeks call it the world of thought, while the Persians might call it the realm of the mind. By slaying a god, you've activated the ritual and come here to become my child. Now, go on—call me Mom! I want to hear it."

Roy stared at her, unimpressed by her mischievous grin and expectant gaze. He simply pursed his lips and said nothing.

The audacity of this girl to claim herself his "mother"! Did she know who his father was? Aleister Crowley! If that devilish man ever found out about her existence, poor Pandora would likely find herself in one of his Windowless Buildings, floating in a jar of formaldehyde as a subject of experimentation.

Suppressing the urge to laugh at the absurd thought, Roy decided to let her antics slide for now.

Seeing Roy ignore her, Pandora pouted in mock anger and huffed. "Anyway, my name is Pandora. Yes, that Pandora. As for why you're meeting me? Explaining would be a hassle, so I won't bother. You'll figure it all out the next time you come here."

She spoke with no divine dignity, acting more like a petulant middle schooler than a goddess.

Her demeanor shifted suddenly as she sighed, a sorrowful expression crossing her face—whether genuine or feigned, Roy couldn't tell. "This era already has six god-slayers, and now a seventh has emerged. The strongest steel is also about to awaken. My youngest child, your luck is terrible. Before you can enjoy the fruits of slaying a god, you'll have to face the end of days."

Pandora's words made Roy's heart skip a beat.

From her cryptic remarks, he gleaned several critical pieces of information.

He was the seventh Campione. If memory served, the protagonist of the original story was supposed to be the seventh. This meant Roy's arrival occurred just before the events of the canon timeline.

"Seven, huh? I sure have a connection with that number," Roy thought wryly, his expression caught between amusement and frustration.

He adjusted his position to make himself more comfortable, now certain of Pandora's identity and having lost his fear of the unknown. He watched her closely, admiring her ethereal beauty.

Her appearance was indeed captivating. In his thirty-plus years of life over two incarnations, only his sister Laura could rival her charm. And even then, he suspected it was his limited exposure to the world's wonders that skewed his judgment.

Pandora tilted her head, observing Roy's calm demeanor with mild curiosity. "How unusual. Your composure and wisdom are unlike most god-slayers, but your reckless defiance against the gods is proof you're a true Son of Fool."

Frustrated by his silence, she sighed dramatically. "Why won't you speak? You're making me look silly, talking to myself like this!"

Roy finally responded with a smirk. "Interrupting someone mid-sentence is terribly rude, Miss Pandora. I was simply waiting for you to finish."

"Calling me Miss Pandora feels so formal! Call me Mom~~ If you do, I'll give you a special reward!"

Pandora teased him further, her delicate hands gently combing his disheveled silver hair. Though her appearance was that of a young girl, she exuded a motherly warmth that was strangely soothing.

Roy raised an eyebrow. He had no patience for her games and decided to humor her. "...Mom."

Pandora's eyes sparkled with delight. "Hehe~~ Now, for your reward!"

She cupped his face with her slender hands, leaning down as a fragrant breeze enveloped him. And just like that Roy lost his first kiss since his transmigration.

Before Roy could react, the ritual which used Circle of Usurpation began in earnest.

The world around them surged with arcane energy as the ritual unfolded, marking the birth of a new Campione!