Inside the school, Matt was pounding wildly on the window.
"Andrew! Andrew, come out and see this— it's God!"
Andrew, his face gloomy as ever, frowned in irritation. Still, he forced himself to open the window. The moment he did, a blinding radiance poured in. After the painful glare subsided, he stared up at the sky in disbelief.
"Motherfu— what the hell… did the world finally go nuts?"
Across the ocean, inside a small white house—
Though it was already deep into the night, the lights inside still blazed. A certain national leader sat there, brows deeply furrowed, staring at the sudden celestial phenomenon on his monitor.
"A new kind of atmospheric weapon? Or… did God really descend?"
Then, a crooked smirk tugged at his lips.
"Whatever it is— it belongs to the America!"
Even if God Himself had come down, well… how many divisions does He command?
All across the world, chaos erupted— excitement, awe, frenzied discussions, cheers, and screams of faith filled the night.
In the sky, that radiant sun hung suspended for several minutes.
Then, finally, the divine sun fell— shrinking back into a halo behind Balder, before quietly merging into his body once more.
"So this world truly has no transcendence…"
Balder, the God of Light, could sense the truth. His divine power ruled over illumination itself— even among the gods of Asgard, few could manipulate light as purely as he could.
Light's destructive power and speed were no weaker than lightning; its scope, however, was far broader. Its sensitivity too— unmatched.
When Balder released his divine light to provoke the world, any being with even the faintest trace of extraordinary power should have been able to sense it— and he, in turn, would sense them. But just now… there had been nothing. No response.
"Seems like that telekinetic crystal was either a lab creation… or something alien."
A flicker of disappointment passed through his eyes. The third possibility— a demonic origin— had been the most interesting one. If it were merely a human experiment or an extraterrestrial relic, its potential was far less appealing.
"Well, no matter. An entire world's worth of resources still has its uses. That crystal's only one piece of the pie."
"Now, time for Plan B…"
Originally, Balder had planned to seize the crystal as a rare transcendent artifact and leave. But now, with its value diminished, he'd find profit elsewhere— from the hearts of the people.
"Faith… an entire world's faith will do nicely."
He smiled faintly.
"For that, I'll need a new identity… and a suitable pawn."
Three names surfaced in his mind: Andrew and Matt
Andrew — one of the three protagonists, gifted but unstable. A perfect villain in the making, though far too emotionally volatile.
Matt — the pure-hearted saint type. Pass.
Suddenly, he turned his head toward the distance. The faint sound of shuffling feet reached his ears.
"Quickly! The divine object fell just up ahead!"
Balder chuckled. "Efficient. Impressive response time— as expected of a nation's machinery."
After a brief thought, he realized none of the three boys were suitable vessels of faith. Perhaps… it was time to change perspective.
"This country's true power lies in its tycoons, not its heroes…"
With a knowing smile, Balder's form began to blur. His body dissolved into pure radiance— scattering into countless motes of light until he vanished completely.
Lakeside Manor
One of the most luxurious estates in the America— owned by the Trump family, a clan of old-guard financiers.
At that moment, Ivanka Trump, the family's most beloved daughter, was sitting in the high balcony, one long, flawless leg crossed over the other. With a glass of red wine in hand, she gazed down at the night below.
Her father— the family head— was already shifting from business into politics. One day, perhaps, he might even claim the nation's highest seat of power, leading their family to ultimate greatness.
But the road was hard. In a country where capital ruled all, even the Trumps felt pressure. Lately, Ivanka herself had been restless.
"Perhaps… the family needs a new source of power."
Her beautiful eyes glinted with ambition.
She knew her strengths— her stunning body, and a reputation cleaner than most socialites'. Both could buy her a powerful alliance.
As for love? She'd long understood it was a fool's luxury.
She began sorting through names of eligible heirs in her mind when—
A strange noise echoed through the manor grounds.
Ivanka frowned, irritated that her servants were disturbing her quiet. But the next instant, her expression froze.
Silence.
An eerie, absolute silence.
All the previous commotion stopped abruptly— as if the world itself had been muted. The entire Lakeside Manor grew so quiet it was almost suffocating.
Compelled by an inexplicable force, Ivanka turned her gaze toward the estate's entrance—
And saw him.
A man stood there, watching her. Their eyes met across the distance— and a faint, unreadable smile curled at his lips.
Then, before she could even react, the man vanished.
Not walked away. Not faded.
Vanished. Literally— erased from sight.
"W-What was that? Who is he?!"
Was it a magic trick?
Or… something beyond human?
Ivanka's heart pounded wildly. Her reason screamed that there was no such thing as the supernatural. Her family stood at the pinnacle of society— if something like that existed, they would've known.
And yet—
A voice deep inside whispered insistently:
What if it's real?
Her breath quickened.
"Find him. Find that man!"
"Looking for me?"
The voice came from right beside her.
Ivanka froze— her curvy body trembling as she slowly turned her head.
The man— that same mysterious being— was now sitting casually where she had just been. He swirled her wine glass, watching her with playful amusement.
A second passed. Then another.
Finally, Ivanka spoke, her tone a mix of awe and instinctive reverence:
"Y-You are…?"
Balder smiled faintly.
"You may call me… the Apostle."
The Apostle.
A word steeped in divinity— often used to describe preachers or messengers of faith. Many had claimed such titles falsely in pursuit of power. But this man… this one radiated truth.
A chill swept through Ivanka's chest— quickly replaced by feverish excitement.
This was opportunity.
For her, for her family.
After all— what was a mortal noble's heir next to the chosen messenger of a god?