Let me clarify something upfront.
I did not start a cult.
Fluffernox did.
Yes, the same semi-sentient Voidcat with a void-stuffed belly, unpredictable glitch surges, and the moral alignment of a mood ring left in a microwave.
It all began when I tried to have a peaceful morning.
Spoiler: I did not have a peaceful morning.
It started like this:
I woke up to chanting.
Which, I'll admit, isn't the worst way to wake up. Not as bad as "waking up mid-fall from a tower" or "waking up engaged to three people at once" or "waking up possessed by your future evil self." (All of which I've experienced. Because of course.)
But this was a new flavor of existential dread.
The chanting was coming from the north monastery courtyard, which had previously been used for things like "quiet meditation" and "contemplative rock stacking." Now it looked like someone had turned it into a chaotic shrine of glitter, broken spoons, and Fluffernox plushies. I repeat: plushies. Of Fluffernox.
"I have concerns," I muttered.
Spoon, vibrating like a judgmental tuning fork in my bathrobe pocket, said, "Correction: you should have concerns."
As I stepped into the courtyard, I was greeted by thirty-four robed students (and two goats??), all kneeling before a gigantic pillow throne, upon which sat Fluffernox, draped in ceremonial tinsel, licking his own shoulder with divine indifference.
Mirielle was there.
"Oh thank goodness," I said. "You're here to stop this."
"Stop it?" she said brightly. "I made the robes."
Belladonna hovered a few feet off the ground—literally floated, her hair twisting upward like she'd just seen the face of God and told it "Try harder."
"Kael," she said serenely, voice echoing with uncanny harmonic resonance. "The cat has revealed the third layer of Echo Enlightenment."
"Okay," I said, already pulling out a snack bar because I knew this was going to take a while. "You're going to need to explain that using more words and fewer divine resonances."
Apparently, while I was asleep, Fluffernox had wandered into the monastery kitchens, yowled once, exploded in glitchlight, and accidentally levitated an entire sack of flour. This, of course, was interpreted as a divine omen.
Naturally, Spoon tried to clarify that this was a symptom of arcane indigestion. But by the time Spoon said "indigestion," the students had already:
Declared Fluffernox the Voidborn Oracle of Purification and Yeast
Built a floating cat shrine
Written three hymnals in Glitchscript
And found a prophecy in the scratch marks he left on the dorm door (which allegedly translate to: "Lo, the fluffy end draws near, bring forth the sardines.")
And Belladonna? She had reached her floaty phase.
Which is the phase where she interprets raw Echo magic as emotional metaphors and starts talking in riddles like:
"To ascend is to unravel. To unravel is to become a spoon."
I looked to Mirielle for help. She was painting sigils on a goat.
"The goat is important," she said.
I nodded. "Of course. As one does."
Spoon, exasperated beyond mortal comprehension, finally shouted in the Voice of the Cutlery Gods:
"ENOUGH! You're all misinterpreting ritual-level arcane flatulence as cosmic instruction!"
Silence.
Then someone in the back whispered reverently:
"The Spoon has spoken."
By midafternoon, things had escalated.
Fluffernox had an inner sanctum (read: a box with a blanket in it).
Mirielle had created a liturgical calendar based on his nap times.
Belladonna had moved beyond floating and was now phase-shifting through walls, quoting the Book of Forgotten Errors.
And I? I was sitting on a bench, holding a bowl of sardines, wondering if this counted as a religious war or just another Tuesday.
"Maybe I should talk to him," I muttered.
"Who? Fluffernox?" Spoon said.
"Yeah. I mean, he's technically the cult leader. Maybe he can shut it down."
"Kael," Spoon said slowly, "You want to negotiate religious policy... with a cat."
"You got a better idea?"
"No. But I resent the fact that I don't."
And so I approached the throne.
Fluffernox looked up at me. His eyes were glowing like galaxies. Probably just a side effect of unstable Echo surges, but still. The vibes were awful.
"Hey, buddy," I said gently. "You've started a cult. Again. Remember last time? There were lawsuits."
Fluffernox blinked. Yawned.
I held up a sardine. "I'll trade you fish for peace."
His tail flicked.
The crowd gasped.
"The tail has spoken," someone whispered.
I gave him the sardine. He devoured it with a horrifying noise.
Then, for no reason I can rationally explain, he climbed onto my shoulder, curled into a loaf, and transmitted a vision directly into my skull.
The vision was of a garden that wept stars. Trees bent inward. Voices spoke in triple-time. A bell tolled backwards. And in the center: me—or a version of me—wearing a crown made of glitchwire and holding the Spoon like a scepter.
Above me floated Belladonna, made entirely of light and spite.
Below us all: Fluffernox, sitting atop the bones of a thousand broken timelines.
He turned, met my eyes across dimensions, and said:
"Mrow."
I woke up covered in feathers.
"Okay," I said once I finished screaming and stopped coughing glitter. "New plan. We burn everything."
"You had a vision, didn't you," said Belladonna, who was now shimmering with minor omniscience and possibly wearing three separate reality cloaks.
"No," I lied.
"You saw the Ascension Path."
"I saw a talking fish and my own funeral."
"Same thing."
By evening, the monks had staged an intervention.
"Kael," said Elder Whispers-in-Chaos, who now exclusively communicated through interpretive spoon dancing, "Your familiar's divinity quotient is destabilizing the Echo Field."
"Translation?"
"You broke reality. Again."
Spoon muttered, "We need to quarantine the cat."
"I'd like to see you try."
"I have a containment circle and no mercy."
So now Fluffernox is in a floating bubble, purring smugly, while Belladonna and I are both on mandatory spiritual recalibration leave.
What does that mean?
Apparently it means "sitting in a room with a magical therapist goat named Reverend Baah and screaming into enchanted pillows."
And me? I'm starting to think I wasn't reincarnated into a fantasy world.
I was reincarnated into a long-form hallucination with a sardine budget.
But hey.
At least we've got a religion now.
Next Time on Yes, I Was Reborn. No, I Don't Want a Harem. Stop Looking at Me Like That:
Chapter 77 – "Echo Shrine Bake-Off: The Scones of Destiny"
Fluffernox's cult demands a celebratory feast. Spoon demands vengeance. Belladonna tries to bake something other than her own emotional repression. And Kael? Kael tries to survive long enough to NOT become a deity.
Spoiler: It doesn't go well.