The sacred realm was a separate dimension from which the gods subordinate to the God of Creation, or to any Observer, could manage the world.
Every world in the infinite multiverse had such a realm, existing as if it were adjacent to that world’s physical realm. Gods were only present on planets that contained life, however.
The most important responsibilities of these gods included maintaining dimensional stability and managing life, especially spirits. And to do so, these gods monitored their worlds at all times. While the why was a bit of a mystery, gods instinctively recognized it as their life’s mission the moment they came into existence, and they would immediately begin carrying it out in accordance with the proper processes.
Whether tasked with managing a single world or three thousand, these custodians would watch over their jurisdictions and devote themselves to their duties, spending what was practically an eternity dealing with any irregularities that appeared.
But there were always exceptions to the rule.
“Bored... I’m so incredibly bored...” grumbled a listless Aquilata, a blue-haired goddess with a voluptuous body.
In her see-through, skintight dress, she looked less like a goddess and more like an exhibitionist.
She stretched to reach a cookie on a nearby table, not bothering to get up from the extravagant sofa she was lazing on.
“We can’t do anything about you being bored...” another goddess replied. “Since...we can’t go to other worlds anymore...”
Aquilata sighed. “I thought we agreed to stop bringing that up, Windia? Truly, though—banning us from entering again merely because we put some stones on some train tracks? What narrow-minded spoilsports they are over there!”
“I know, right?! Thanks to that, we’ve got, like, literally nothing to do... Urgh! I so wanna eat some Fujiya cakes!”
“We...are the ones who broke the covenant. It’s too late to complain about it now...”
Windia was a cute-looking goddess with green hair, a sailor uniform, and a sort of spacy look to her. Flaress, the other goddess who’d replied to Aquilata, was a redhead with a goth-loli appearance.
Gailaneth—a blonde bombshell of a goddess, and a shut-in who loved sleep above all else—was here too, but she wasn’t part of the discussion. Even as the others talked, she snoozed nearby in her pajamas, sporting crazy bed head and drooling.
While many worshipped these goddesses as the Four Gods, the Four Slobs would’ve been a more fitting name. They were immoral, they were selfish, and they had zero intention to oversee the world like they were supposed to.
“We did give them the information they wanted about this world—surely they could have cut us a little slack!” Aquilata cried. “They are so ridiculously petty!”
“Yeah! I mean, who even cares if, like, 150 humans die?!” Flaress agreed. “They’re such tight-asses! And now... I...am...so...insanely...BORED! Bored, bored, bored!”
The issue went back seventeen years, in the goddesses’ time, when a god overseeing Earth had requested information from the Four Gods about their world. Apparently, the request had gone something like, “Just watching gets boring after a while, you know? I’d reaaaally like to make a playground in my world, where I can spend time with my children~ That’s where you come in...”
But Aquilata and the others, unable to wield the full breadth of the gods’ powers, hadn’t been able to access that information. They’d only ever been able to use a portion of the management permissions usually available to the gods in charge of worlds, and the God of Creation had divided those permissions between the four of them. They couldn’t even use the powers they did have to their full potential. They were gods, technically, but imperfect ones. In fact, “imperfect” didn’t even do it justice.
To fulfill the request, they would’ve had to enlist the help of a higher-ranking god. Unfortunately, the only god in their world with the correct management permissions had been sealed deep underground. Knowing that it would chase them until it had obliterated every trace of their existences if they woke it, the Four Gods had formed a covenant with the god from Earth. Under it, said god would gain access permissions to obtain the information it wanted from the Four Gods’ world itself as long as it didn’t interfere with that world; meanwhile, the Four could travel to Earth for sightseeing, but they were forbidden from using their powers when they were there.
Of course, there were other little clauses and details, but that’d been the gist of it.
After the covenant had been formed, the Four Gods went on a trip, curious to see the world the heroes had come from—the world shaped by their fellow gods—and well and truly let loose. When they left, they brought all sorts of items back to their own world.
All might’ve gone well...but there’d been no chance these four hedonistic, selfish goddesses were ever going to be able to abide by the covenant. Inevitably, they caused a problem.
The incident occurred in a huge city, inside a rush-hour train packed full of people.
The goddesses, sick of being crammed inside the train like sardines, had a thought. And it was a very dangerous, extreme one: Wouldn’t it be hilarious if this train just crashed right now?
The four of them—all demigods modeled after faeries—had a deep-rooted love of playing pranks.
And the “prank” they ultimately decided on was no laughing matter: They forced the train to accelerate, then derailed it.
Of course, an accident ensued, taking 157 lives and wounding 174 others. With 331 casualties, it became one of Japan’s worst train wrecks.
In the aftermath of this anomalous accident, the gods of Earth and other worlds were left in a panicked frenzy trying to restore the timeline and rewrite history.
Thanks to their efforts, it was ultimately as if the incident had never happened at all. But then came a flood of complaints from the gods involved in the cleanup.
The Four Gods, having broken their covenant, lost their rights to travel to other worlds. They never regained that privilege.
“It’s...the consequence of your own actions...” Windia mumbled. “If you hadn’t gone too far, Flaress, then right now we might still be—”
“Hey!” Flaress cried out indignantly. “Aquilata was on board with it too! Why are you only blaming me?! You’re being so unfair right now!”
“Windia, weren’t you the one who came up with the idea of speeding up the train to cause even more damage?” Aquilata said. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”