Naturally, that was the hard part...
“Okay. I’ve extracted most of the information I need now. I suppose now’s the time to make a status report.”
The woman started trying to contact her own world, which would’ve been impossible if this world’s defense systems had been working properly. Fortunately for her, this world had no Observer.
Or...while it technically did have one, that Observer was still an embryo.
A screen manifested in front of the woman, and she attempted to open a connection to her boss.
A video feed appeared on the screen, showing the inside of a cluttered apartment—and, for some reason, what looked like the back of a boy in a school uniform.
The boy whirled around to face the screen, and—
“Hi ho! Kemo the Observer here.”
—introduced himself in a chipper voice, like an iconic character from a long-running educational show for kids.
The woman felt a strange sweat run down her back.
“Master... Just how long have you been standing there waiting to do that?”
“Aww, come on! As if I’d have the free time to do something like that! What are you suggesting, Lucifer?”
“Nothing. I’m well accustomed to your eccentricity by this point, Master. There’s nothing more I have to say.”
“Boooooo! You’re so cold to me! Are you still mad about what happened ages ago? When I thwacked you and sent you flying? I was only getting back at you for striking, you know. Plus, I said sorry already, didn’t I?! So many times! But, I mean, it was a long time ago, so I thought, like...maybe it’s about time you could finally forgive me, or something? Looking back, yeah, that was my bad too...”
“I’m not angry. I’ve just given up.”
Kemo was Lucifer’s boss, and as far as she knew, the most powerful of all the Observers—but he was just plain weird.
He did strange things—traveling back in time to early civilizations to leave crystal skulls and precious metals that didn’t make sense, or adding relief carvings depicting advanced scientific societies to the stone buildings those civilizations had built.
In other words, he had no problem leaving things on the surface that would later be known as out-of-place artifacts. He was a pain of a custodian.
When he saw these artifacts become the talk of various occult magazines, manga, and more, he secretly grinned. He was twisted like that, delighting in people’s reactions to his antics.
He did fulfill his job as an Observer, sure, but he also crossed between timelines to carry out pranks. The foreign substances he left behind often led to the creation of anachronistic weapons like the Arrow of Indra and the onset of large-scale military conflicts, and what had been established history began to branch into multiple timelines. Over and over again, he’d altered history in ways that were just minor enough to have no major impact but still left problems—problems that Lucifer and the others had to deal with. An increasing number of timelines meant more work for the custodians who had to manage them. Eventually, they’d come together to organize a strike.
Kemo hadn’t been happy with the strike. If you’re familiar with the Bible or other religious texts, you might already know what happened next...
For what it’s worth, Ragnarok had actually been a drinking party between custodians, including Kemo. They’d gotten into quite a brawl, and the story had been exaggerated over the years.
“Why did we end up as the ‘demons,’ anyway? Weren’t you the one at fault there, Master?”
“I didn’t do that, though, did I? Some of the other custodians probably let slip what happened when they were giving revelations, right? Then whatever they said got misinterpreted and written into the Bible? Something like that.”
“I know that, but just... Please stop time-traveling for fun! Frankly, you’re troubling all of the other custodians!”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it, but... I just can’t help myself, y’knooow?”
“Do you mind if I hit you when I get back? I was kidnapped in the middle of my part-time job and sent here without any say in the matter, you know...”
“K-Kidding! I was just kidding! I found somewhere else to play recently, and other Observers have started joining in too, so I don’t plan on getting up to any more mischief like that for now.”
Observers largely just watched events unfold and recorded them.
They possessed incredible power, but those powers were only supposed to be used to create and manage the worlds in their jurisdictions. That said, many did abuse their powers to get up to mischief here and there.
Why? Well, they were bored.
Observers weren’t “gods” in the way that humans pictured them. Not in the slightest. They were actually mischievous rascals and voyeurs with far too much free time on their hands.
“So? Think you’ll be able to access the hallowed realm?” Kemo asked. “My mentor made that administrative system, and it’s pretty elaborate, so it’ll probably be a pain...”
“I should be able to get in, but I’ll need administrative codes from multiple other Observers,” Lucifer replied. “Just relying on the custodians’ negligent supervision won’t be enough to get me in. The defenses are too intricate. The gate to the hallowed realm won’t open unless I input codes from other Observers.”
“My mentor managed more worlds than I do, and he was a higher-ranking existence too. Makes sense his system would be complex. Well, then, I’ll send you the administrative codes of thirty-eight Observers, including mine.”
“Thank you. I just want to get this job over and done with.”
Lucifer’s tone was blunt, despite her speaking to the being who was technically her boss.
Her annoyance was understandable. She had been dissatisfied with her job enough to strike, and the ensuing fallout had gotten her labeled as Satan, a name synonymous with evil.
She’d been given an extended vacation as an apology for the whole affair. As a result, Lucifer hadn’t worked since the era of mythology. It had been a very extended vacation.
“Well, the last time I was there, I was constrained by the covenant,” Kemo said. “I couldn’t bring anything back except the data I specifically requested. This time, though, you can use our power as Observers, so it should be easier.”
“It should? That doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence.”
“That’s just how it is. My mentor had way more authority than I did. I mean, who’d even think to seal away their own successor, make a bunch of stand-in custodians, and let them just run wild?”
“This is your predecessor we’re talking about, Master. It sounds entirely plausible to me.”
“Hey! What are you implying?! Even I wouldn’t be that irresponsible!”
But when Lucifer shot Kemo a cold glare, he avoided her gaze, proving that he knew just how irresponsible he could be.
“Please hurry up and send more support staff, okay?”
“Don’t worry! I’ve got it all prepared. Right, then—I’m gonna time-travel a bit and confess to that girl. This time, I’ll definitely make her fall for me! And then I’ll get her to wear cat ears and a school swimsuit for me! If she says no again, I can always wind back time and—”
“So you were about to go off and cause more mischief! Please, stop time-traveling every other second already! Do you even understand how much trouble you’re causing?!”
“I’ll cause whatever trouble I need to if it gets that girl to wear a school swimsuit, cat ears, and a cat tail for me! We Observers live for fun, after all—and we’ve got so much time to kill! All the time in the wooooooooorld!”
“Ngh... All this free time? I suppose I can’t say anything... You do get all of your work done properly, and you clean up your messes when you have to...”
Kemo was the real deal.
He was also a real piece of work.
He’d make his subordinates cry if it meant getting to enjoy his hobbies—though he wouldn’t forget to care for them after the fact too.
“By the way, Lucifer...”
“What?”
“What’s the deal with those antennae growing out of your head?”
“Huh?”
Lucifer touched her crown and realized two long, black antennae were growing from her head.
She hurriedly checked the records covering the events leading up to her arrival in low Earth orbit and found one that showed she’d been incarnated with a disguise based on a great givleon. The antennae must’ve been a vestige from that data.
The records included her going all out, striking corny poses and prattling on about justice. As she cringed in embarrassment, she peeked at her boss’s face on the screen—and saw him grinning back at her.
At that moment, Lucifer realized everything that’d happened.
“Master... You set me up, you—!”
But it was too late.
Before her awakening in orbit, she’d behaved according to the artificial personality created by Kemo. Looking back at herself now, it was just so, so embarrassing...
Kemo chuckled at her reaction. Maybe this was just how he expressed affection.
“Well, good luck out there!” he offered, then he promptly cut the feed, leaving Lucifer to quietly bemoan those damned antennae and the strange program Kemo had installed in them.
Humans weren’t alone in being at the whims of crazy, unreasonable gods—the gods’ own disciples were too.