Nazarick – The 1st Floor – The Gate of Judgment
Yuri Alpha adjusted her glasses. The motion was purely habitual—she was a dullahan; her head was detachable, and her eyes didn't need correction. But habits were comforting, especially when the world was smelling of sulfur and wrongness.
Standing on the bridge leading to the Great Tomb was a single figure.
It was a girl. Or rather, the sketch of a girl that had been shaded in with charcoal. Her skin was the color of rain clouds. Her hair was a wild, static-charged mess of white.
"Identify yourself," Yuri commanded, her voice echoing through the entrance hall. Behind her, CZ2128 Delta (Shizu) raised her magic gun, the targeting reticle glowing red.
"Identity..." the girl giggled. Her voice was overlapping—a sharp, youthful soprano mixed with a grinding, ancient bass. "We are the mailman."
Shizu's eye widened mechanically. "[Alert: Target classification fluctuating. 50% Living / 50% Undead.]"
"Impossible," Yuri frowned. "You are either one or the other."
"Not anymore." The girl—Zesshi Zetsumei—tapped the scythe resting on her shoulder. The blade hummed with a frequency that made Yuri's teeth ache. "We bear a message for the Sorcerer King. Open the door, Headless Maid. Or we will delete it."
Delete? Not destroy. Delete.
Yuri felt a chill go down her detached spine.
"Hold fire," Yuri ordered Shizu. She pressed a hand to her earpiece. "Albedo-sama. The guest is... highly irregular. She possesses an aura similar to a Supreme Being."
There was a pause on the line. A heavy, suffocating silence.
"Send her down," Albedo's voice came back, dripping with frozen rage. "Escort her to the Throne. Do not let her touch the walls."
"Understood."
Yuri waved her hand. The massive gates creaked open.
"Enter," Yuri said stiffly.
Zesshi walked past. As she did, the stone floor beneath her feet briefly turned to wireframe—black lines on a blue grid—before solidifying again.
"Cute place," Zesshi whispered. "Ideally structured for formatting."
Nazarick – The Throne Room
Pandora's Actor sat on the Throne of Kings.
He was not panicking. He was theatrically concerned.
Transformation: Ainz Ooal Gown (80% power).
He looked like his father. He radiated the dark majesty of the Overlord. But internally, his mind was racing through sixteen different contingency plans, twelve of which involved dramatic capes.
"Father warned me," Pandora thought. "He said, 'Don't speak unless necessary.' But silence is a monologue of the soul! How can I convey absolute dominance without a soliloquy?"
"She is here."
Albedo stood at the foot of the stairs. She was fully armored, her helm tucked under her arm. Her Axe, Ginnungagap, was in her left hand. Her regenerated right hand was empty, flexing spasmodically.
The doors opened.
Zesshi strode in. The Floor Guardians lining the hall—Demiurge, Cocytus, Mare, Aura—tensed. The killing intent in the room was dense enough to crush a normal human lung.
But Zesshi walked through it like a breeze.
She stopped in the center of the room. She didn't kneel. She looked up at Pandora's Actor, her mismatched eyes spinning like loading icons.
"So," Zesshi said. "You are the Virus King."
Albedo stepped forward, her wings snapping open. "Watch your tongue, mongrel. You stand before Ainz Ooal Gown. Kneel, or I will sever your legs."
Zesshi ignored the succubus. She stared intensely at the throne.
"Something is missing," Zesshi murmured. The deeper voice—Surshana's data—seemed confused. "The ID matches. The visual matches. But the... texture. It lacks depth."
Pandora's Actor sweated. Does she know? Impossible. My disguise is flawless against anything below Level 100.
"Insolent child," Pandora's Actor spoke. He lowered his pitch, imitating Ainz's 'Serious Mode'. "You come from the Theocracy. The nation that dared to mind-control my servant. I should cast you into the Frozen River for simply breathing my air."
"Scary," Zesshi smirked.
She lifted the scythe.
"Guardians!" Albedo roared. "Kill her!"
"Wait," Pandora ordered. "Let her speak."
Wait, did I just overrule Albedo? Oh god, Father is going to demote me to scrubbing the toilets.
"I am not here to fight," Zesshi said, spinning the scythe. "The Dragon Lord sends his regards. He wants to offer a truce."
"A truce?" Demiurge scoffed. "After preparing for war?"
"Not a truce with Nazarick," Zesshi corrected. "A truce with the System."
She slammed the butt of the scythe into the floor.
[Item Activation: Charon's Guidance.]
[Effect: Synchronization.]
A ripple of gray light exploded from the scythe. It wasn't an attack. It was a handshake request.
The light hit Albedo—she shrugged it off.
It hit Demiurge—resisted.
It hit the Throne.
Pandora's Actor felt a jolt. Not physical pain, but a sudden interface pop-up in his mind.
[Connection Attempt: Admin Key #2 detected.]
[Syncing with Throne...]
"She's hacking the chair!" Pandora realized.
The Throne of Kings began to glow. The gold luster faded, replaced by flowing binary code. The red world-class item embedded in the throne pulsed violently.
"Found you," Zesshi's eyes rolled back, glowing pure white. "Root Access confirms... Unauthorized User."
She pointed a finger at Pandora.
"You aren't the Admin. You're a mimic."
Silence shattered the room.
Albedo turned slowly to look at the figure on the throne. "What did she say?"
"Lies!" Pandora stood up, flaring his aura. "Deception of the highest order!"
"Is it?" Zesshi laughed. She vanished.
Before Cocytus could draw his blade, Zesshi reappeared on the dais, directly in front of Pandora's Actor.
She didn't strike him. She reached out and touched the Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown.
But Pandora wasn't holding the real staff. He was holding a high-tier replica created by Ainz for safety.
[Object Identification: Counterfeit.]
"Fake King. Fake Staff. Fake World."
Zesshi grinned, revealing shark-like teeth.
"System Command: Force Revert."
A beam of anti-magic mana blasted point-blank into Pandora's Actor.
He had no World Item to protect him. His Doppelganger shapeshifting was a skill, and Skills could be suppressed by Authority.
The illusion shattered.
The majestic Overlord dissolved. Standing there, lanky and egg-faced in a bright yellow military uniform, was Pandora's Actor.
"Ach!" Pandora stumbled back, his cover blown. "Zoinks!"
The room froze.
Albedo stared. Her eyes twitched. The vein in her forehead pulsed.
"Pandora?" she whispered. The sound was more terrifying than any roar. "Where... is... my... beloved?"
"He... uh... bathroom break?" Pandora tried.
Zesshi raised her scythe. "No Admin present. Throne unprotected. Injecting Trojan Protocol."
She drove the scythe toward the seat of the Throne—toward the core of the Guild Base.
If she struck it, she could corrupt the base data. Nazarick could be unmade.
"Protect the Throne!" Demiurge screamed, transforming partially into his Frog Demon form to leap up the stairs.
Too slow. Zesshi was already there.
CLANG.
The scythe stopped.
It didn't hit the throne. It hit a wall of black obsidian.
A figure had stepped out of the shadows behind the throne. Not telepromted—he had been Gate-traveling so fast the arrival sound hadn't caught up yet.
Ainz Ooal Gown stood there.
He was panting. He wore the shabby traveler's cloak, which was currently smoking from friction burns. In his hand, he held nothing.
But floating in front of the scythe was a single, small, red sphere.
The Orb of Momonga.
[System Alert: Admin Key #1 (Primary) Detected.]
[Access Denied.]
Ainz looked at Zesshi. The red points in his eyes were pinpricks of absolute fury.
"You..." Ainz spoke. His voice was calm. Dangerously calm. "You sit on my armrest. You insult my son. And you try to scratch my chair."
He grabbed the haft of Zesshi's scythe with his bare hand.
[Anti-Glitch Patch: Active.]
His hand didn't phase. It held firm.
"Get the hell out of my house."
Ainz didn't cast a spell. He didn't have time. He utilized the authority of the Guild Master within the Guild Base.
[Guild Command: Eject Trespasser.]
The floor beneath Zesshi opened.
Not a trap door. A pixelated hole in the reality of the 10th floor.
"Wha—" Zesshi's dual voice glitched.
"BEGONE!" Ainz roared, channeling every ounce of his mana into the command.
He shoved her.
Zesshi fell backward into the hole. She grabbed at the air, her face twisting in shock.
"We will return! The corruption is deep!" she screamed as she tumbled into the darkness of the void between dimensions.
The floor sealed shut instantly.
Ainz stood panting. The silence in the room was heavy enough to crush diamond.
Pandora's Actor stood frozen in his yellow uniform, performing a 'salute of shame.'
Albedo stood at the bottom of the stairs, her axe lowered, her expression unreadable.
"Ainz-sama," she said softly. "You have returned."
"I..." Ainz straightened his back, trying to regain his composure despite wearing a smoking, dirty cloak. "I was... testing the perimeter defenses. I employed Pandora to... bait the trap."
"Sasuga!" Demiurge yelled from halfway up the stairs. "A brilliant double-blind! By removing your presence, you lured the enemy's key asset into revealing her function! You realized she targeted the Throne, not the Guardians!"
Ainz nodded slowly. "Ex... Exactly. Good job realizing that, Demiurge."
He looked at Pandora.
"Pandora, return to the Treasury. Your acting was... adequate. You fooled her long enough."
"Danke, Vater!" Pandora saluted so hard his hat nearly fell off. He transformed into a bat and fled the room before Albedo could kill him.
Ainz slumped onto the throne. He checked his smartphone hidden in his sleeve.
[Throne Status: Infected (1%).]
[Warning: Firewalls Compromised.]
Zesshi hadn't destroyed it, but she had scratched it. The virus was inside.
"Albedo," Ainz said.
"Yes, my lord?"
"The truce is rejected. Prepare the legions."
Ainz placed his hand on the infected armrest.
"The Platinum Dragon Lord wants a war? Then let us show him why players are called 'Catastrophes'."