I am your God.

Don't leave me.

Another warning! I am from Russia and, accordingly, I speak Russian. The story was translated with the help of a translator, and there may be errors. I apologize for this, but I want to show you my little job again, haha

" People are creatures of a narrow mind and reflection. I can't stop being a diva about the uselessness and pity of their existence. »

– Please, O gracious founder of the cult of Eternal Paradise! I beg you to have mercy, it can't go on like this anymore! – Sobbing from his own grief and anguish of loss, the nameless opponent bows, almost falling at the feet of the sectarian sitting next to him. – You are my last hope! – The visitor chatters incessantly, whining and yearning for his own, expounding the course of his thoughts with all the revelations, as if hoping for the help of the pseudo Gods of the messenger.

"Your existence is so insignificant that you leave all your last tiny hopes to the Gods invented by your own brain. Well, that's hilarious. »

– I have heard your wishes, dear visitor. Come on, come on! Please get up from your knees! Stand up proudly and straight in front of me. After all, this oversight was solely my fault in front of you, and I should be on my knees, but not you! – Artificially gasps the head of the cult, rising to his full height from the place of comfortable sitting, slowly catching up with the innocent victim.

The heel of the sole is especially sharp and the bell continues to beat on the polished surface of the room.

– Not at all!

"Keep bowing to me. Keep praying to me. Keep kneeling in front of me, showing me how worthless you are. Keep doing what I want."

– I am guilty before you, as before no one else! I could not prevent this nightmarish, heartbreaking tragedy! – The blonde, fully getting used to the role of an innocent, sincere head-owner set for centuries, begins to actively gesticulate with the fingers of elongated hands, continuing the already memorized monologue of speech. – I will definitely report your confession to the Gods themselves, I will ask them to direct you and your family to the sanctuary of the Heavenly Father! – Such words are heard from day to day by every newly arrived visitors of the named sect who want to think and believe in the rightness of their words – the words of an uncomplicated blonde, the truthfulness of which he himself doubted.

– Thank you, thank you, O dear founder of the cult of Eternal Paradise! – The visitor buries his nose to the very wooden boards of the floor covered with a soft carpet. Hunching over, reality bending in two in front of the color-eyed sectarian, showing him his infinite gratitude.

"I am your God."

***

– Oh! Hakuji-san, Hakuji-san! – With a breathless, anxious cry, he rushes along the spacious light walls of the corridors of the cult, calling out to the finally found guy. A pretty little girl of about eighteen, clearly looking for a named youngster not for a simple heart-to-heart gazebo.

– Hmm?

– Ah-hah...! There you are! – Finally, a fellow follower exhales with relief, as if a heavy mountain eventually falls off her shoulders. Pausing for a short moment in order to formulate the necessary request properly, so that the listener understands everything to the smallest detail, and to justify such an unexpected visit of a black-haired boy. Plaintively, wearily, she looks up. "The lord of the cult, Douma–sama, has asked you and me to clean up his chambers while he greets the newly arrived followers. But I've spent so much time looking for you that we don't have time to talk at all. Let's go quickly! – And the girl, with an unusual for her thin, petite physique, grabs the hard wrist of the incomprehensible Hakuji, taking advantage of the moment, after jerks hinting that he would follow her straight without unnecessary hassle.