The Counter Force can often act in strange ways. Despite laying as the foundation for Human Order, shockingly little is known about how it actually operates. Mages that became obsessed with researching it were often overcome by paranoia, losing their minds trying to uncover whether their actions were dictated by their own free will, or guided along by an invisible, omniscient power, becoming mere puppets in service of ensuring humanity's survival. And their fear wasn't unfounded. For example, no one would suspect that some cosmetic changes made by some random players of a video game could be vital to an entire world's survival. Who would be able to tell if a certain's pervert's lolita vampire NPC design would end up having a striking resemblance to a young Hungarian noble girl, or that his sister would end up becoming obsessed with a certain London serial killer before getting into YGGDRASIL? But it was by these coincidences that fate continues to change, carving its way into the future.


"I'll look forward to it! I'm having trouble staying awake… I think I'll log off first. I'm glad I could meet you in the end. Goodnight."

"I was very happy to meet you too. Goodnight."

"Let's meet up again somewhere." Those were Herohero's last words, the last conversation between the members of the once legendary heteromorphic guild, Ainz Ooal Gown. There was a time when no player would not recognize the infamous newcomers that rose through the ranks with unprecedented speed, but in five years the name would have faded from everybody's memories, a footnote to be found by any past player who would scroll through the old forums for nostalgia's sake.

Those were the thoughts of Momonga as he strolled around the now-empty halls of Nazarick. Anger and resentment made their way through his mind, only to be kept away by the cold, unfeeling facts. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't bring himself to blame his fellow guild members for leaving behind a dead dream, no matter how glorious it once was. Maybe the one he was really angry with was himself, for being the only one unable to accept reality, the only one unable to move forward, choosing to cling to a hollow fantasy. But he couldn't bring himself to leave. If he did, he would then prove that it was all for nothing. That every moment of adventure, the joy of getting a rare drop, the despair of a raid that ended in failure, that everything he and his comrades lived through didn't mean anything in the end. He couldn't do that. He would carry on that legacy to the very end, that was his duty as the Guildmaster.

Momonga was suddenly pulled from his grim thoughts by the sight in front of him. A magic scepter of exquisite quality hung on the wall, seven bronze serpents hungrily coiling along the staff, diamonds, and rubies shining along its length. But even that paled in comparison to the rest of the item. Where the serpents ended, a cup of pure gold stood in their stead, the soft glow emanating from it making itself apparent even in the brightly lit room.

Anyone would be able to recognize it as a supremely high-quality item, and it was a Guild Weapon that was unique to this guild. One could call it the symbol of Ainz Ooal Gown. It was intended to be a treasure used by the Guildmaster, yet was instead kept as a decoration. Guild weapons were typically kept hidden away in safe places and not used for their tremendous powers because a guild would be disbanded if its associated guild weapon was destroyed. Even Ainz Ooal Gown, a guild that existed at the peak of YGGDRASIL, was no exception to this.

This was the reason why the weapon had been kept here, and Momonga had never touched it. In fact, he wasn't even sure what it did, the flavor text regarding it had been rather vague. "Whether he be worthy or not, for he who had touched Heaven's Feel, dreams shall no longer be an illusion ". It reminded Momonga of "Shooting star" a special rare item that was rumored to be released in a patch a couple of years ago but was apparently scrapped at the last moment.

The last member of Ainz of Gool hesitated for a moment, before gripping the staff with a sigh. Items in game weren't supposed to have any actual weight, yet it felt awfully heavy in his hand.


It wasn't long before Momonga reached his destination. The stuff had been an impulsive decision, the place he was looking for awaited him before two huge, imposing doors. At the entrance, he was greeted by one of the Tomb's many NPCs A short, rather girlish boy, dressed in a sailor-man outfit. When he first heard that Whitebrim-san went back on his initial idea of maids NPC in favor of these mini workers clad in seamen cosplay that he called the "Nemo series" (apparently due to a popular pirate anime he got into at the time), Momonga wondered if his friend's screws had come loose. After all, in the soul of every man laid only one truth, a general law which the world functioned: "Maid uniforms are justice!" However, he had to admit the little crew wormed their way into his heart. The sight of them running along busily all over the tomb, their little feet struggling to keep up with their diligence, was enough to cleanse away the fatigue of a long day of farming. The blue-eyed marine at the entrance gave a military salute, then proceeded to easily open the huge black marble doors for him. A chuckle escaped Momonga's mouth.

"Thank you!" It was a meaningless gesture, but he no longer cared whether something had meaning for him to do it. Plus, despite the robotic movements, there was something about the NPCs that gave them a feeling of life. He couldn't think of them as a mere bunch of pixels and lines of code anymore.

Passing through the doors, he found himself in a wide, high room, easily capable of hosting hundreds of people, perhaps with room to spare. Flags and chandeliers adorned the walls and the ceiling respectively, their quality giving off a regal feel. Not that the room really needed it. No, that purpose was thoroughly accomplished by the giant throne that sat proudly in the middle, flanked by the huge red banner that hung behind it, bearing the symbol of the guild.

This place was located in the deepest reaches of the Great Underground Tomb of Nazarick. It was also its most important place — the Throne Room.

No matter how many times he walled in, Momonga couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the sheer majesty of this room. It stood as the greatest creation in the whole Nazarick, a symbol of its invincibility, for no enemy player ever managed to even glance at it. "A fitting place to wait for everything to wait," he thought.

His steps carried him towards the throne, the sound accompanied by another pair walking from behind one of the curtains. Momonga should have expected her to be here, but the thought was all but forgotten today. The NPC here was the past Overseer of the Floor Guardian, now a Guardian herself of the seventh floor. She was dressed like a nun, yet the tight clothes did nothing to hide her accentuated curves. Her smile was pleasant and welcoming, yet her eyes hid a madness that would make most people shudder. Her walk was restrained and timid, yet somehow bold and seductive. She was a perfect image of a woman of cloth while being an absolute perversion of it, and that contradiction had always put him on edge. Soon after Tabula-san created her, he had found himself unconsciously avoiding the areas she resided in more and more often. He was almost ashamed of that now. She was still a creation of one of his dear companions, and more importantly, a member of Nazarick. As the Guild Leader, he ought to treat everyone fairly, be they sentient or not.

The skeleton avatar sat on the throne, the scepter in one hand, and the NPC by his side. "Yes, this is a good place for it to end" he murmured to himself. All that was left to do was stare at the clock as the seconds passed, each second feeling like an eternity and passing like lightning, each second closer until a part of himself would be lost forever.

As the final moments approached, his gaze wandered to the huge flags on the ceilings. Forty-one in total, each one for one of the guild members. He began listing them off, for each one of them of his comrade's face flashing before his eyes. Not their real faces, he never knew how any of them looked in real life, yet the faces of their avatar filled him with the same warmth as if he was looking at the actual person. He only knew them for who they were in the game, but the connection between them was as genuine as they come.

As he finished counting, his empty eye sockets fell on the woman beside him, and he was filled with sadness once more. The characters that his friends had spent countless hours to perfect, each one of them carrying their masters' personalities on their sleeves. Their loss had perhaps hitten him the hardest. They might not be real, but they didn't deserve that. If he could have saved at least one part of the game, he would have saved them. That was his earnest wish.

As the timer announced only three minutes remaining he considered summoning all the NPC's to the Throne Room, so he could spend his time together with them, when suddenly, the scepter in his hand was enveloped in a brilliant light. Startled, he almost let it slip out of his hand when he noticed the pop-up notification appearing on screen.

'Unique spell available, Throne of Heroes, want to learn? Y/N'

A dull glimmer of excitement ran through Momonga. One final spell, a spell only for him, the final player. A stage set only for him, the lone performer. He would have loved to show it off to the rest of The Guild, but that would have to do now. He hastily clicked yes, and a new window popped up.

"A chant? Tier magic in YGGDRASIL never needed a chant to activate before. Huh, the shitty devs must have gone all out for this one. I'm almost touched."

'1 minute remaining. The announcement forced him out of his ramblings. It was now or never. Pointing the scepter forward he began to chant. Slowly, in the beginning, out of fear of messing up, yet slowly increasing in speed and volume. By the end, the words felt foreign to him, as if his mouth was not the one speaking them, as if those words rang truer than anything he ever heard before.

"Let silver and steel be the essence.

Let stone and the archduke of contracts be the foundation.

Let The Great Tomb be the one I bow to, the one who bows before me.

Let rise a wall against the wind that shall fall.

Let the four cardinal gates close.

Let the three-forked road from the crown reaching unto the Kingdom rotate.

Let it be declared now; your flesh shall serve under me, and my fate shall be with your sword.

Submit to the beckoning of the Holy Grail.

Answer, if you would submit to this will and this truth.

An oath shall be sworn here.

I shall attain all virtues of all of Life;

I shall have dominion over all evils of all of Death.

Seven Heavens clad in the words of stargazers,

come forth into the new world,

protector of the holy balance! "

The chant was finished just before the clock ran out, and the world was enveloped by light.


"Aaah" Momonga groaned, bringing his bony fingers to his temples. He could already feel a headache coming. "What was that?"

"Indeed, what could have that been, Master?" A sickly sweet voice rang in his ear.

"EEEEEEEEHHHHHH?"