"I reject."
I didn't sugarcoat my words. Honestly I didn't have any intention to become a puppet to a god.
The word 'Apostle' might sound all noble and divine on paper… But from what I knew about the novel? It was just a prettier word for slave.
Sure, most people would think, Oh wow, a god's sharing their soul with me! I must be special.
But the truth? It was a scam. A divine leash dressed up in reverence.
That "shared soul" meant they could whisper into your thoughts. Move your limbs without your permission sometimes. Make you feel what they wanted you to feel.
One day, you're a person. The next, you're a mouthpiece in holy robes, smiling while your mind screams inside.
I didn't know what effect my rejection would have. Not really.
I mean, there were a thousand other ways a god could kill me without triggering heavenly principles.
Obviously each demanded a hefty price.
Like he could just make someone his apostle and let them do his bidding.
