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“This feels like an SF world.”
“It does, doesn’t it? Definitely doesn’t look like fantasy. Though, at this point, who even knows what counts as fantasy anymore?”
“We’ve seen a lot of worlds, after all.”

While chatting leisurely with Fumitsuki, I could feel Lullus giving us a look that seemed to say she had something to add, but was holding back. Fumitsuki was starting to feel more like me lately, but Lullus, after spending so much time with us, had become more of a caretaker type. Or rather, a chaperone. She gave off that impression even when she was first sent to me, so it felt oddly nostalgic.

Beyond our peaceful little moment, a spectacular battle was raging: a massive, pitch-black wolf-like shadow descending from the sky, clashing against a hyper-advanced scientific nation. For now, the nation’s forces were holding the wolf at bay with lasers and flamethrowers, trying, if possible, to take it down entirely.

The wolf, on the other hand, though slowed by the attacks, wasn’t taking much real damage. But it also couldn’t do anything. It let out a roar of frustration at the annoyance, but its cry carried little power, unable to halt the nation’s advance.

“This world has magic too, right?”
“Yes. Those laser-like attacks are actually magic.”
“It looks like they’re manipulating space itself, too.”

Indeed, this world had evolved through the fusion of science and magic. Among all the worlds I’ve seen, this one was exceptionally advanced. Cars didn’t fly, but teleportation technology was established, and most daily life was automated to the point where people barely needed to do anything. Monsters once existed here, but their numbers had been drastically reduced; some were kept as zoo exhibits, others protected as endangered species.

The powerful ones were mostly exterminated. The only remaining major creatures were two dragons, though whether dragons should even be called “monsters” was debatable. They didn’t need to eat to survive and didn’t attack humans. As ancient beings, they were too strong for people to bother hunting. One of them lived in the ocean, where humans were at a disadvantage anyway. Even in such a developed world, the seas remained largely unexplored, partly because of monsters, which made things even more difficult.

The nations maintained powerful weapons as deterrents against those dragons. In truth, a mid-sized nation could probably fight one dragon to a draw if attacked. That’s assuming the dragon came to them; if humans were the aggressors, it would be a different story. A superpower could probably win by building a massive base around a dragon’s lair, but international politics would never allow that.

So things remained in a stalemate. Some countries even argued that attacking dragons was morally wrong. From my perspective, as the god of the endings, attacking dragons was wrong. Dragons were an intelligent life form, in their own way, similar to humans. And honestly, humans caused far more harm to the world than dragons ever could.

“You did give them plenty of warnings, right?”
“Apparently, yes. But the divine messages were treated as elaborate pranks. The dragons understood them properly, though—”
“Most of them got killed by humans anyway, didn’t they?”

Lullus, who had been quiet until now, joined the conversation. There was still a hint of bitterness in her tone, perhaps remembering the old days. The slain dragons had their bodies repurposed into even stronger weapons, which were then used to kill the next dragon. The two remaining dragons were the ones who saw that cycle and gave up.

From the human perspective, this was a triumphant, thriving world, one that had pushed forward without realizing it was wearing itself down. Eventually, it reached the point where I could descend here myself. Normally, that would mean the world would gradually decay, or else burden itself further and speed toward destruction. But this time, it might not be either.

“So, what exactly is that thing again?”

Fumitsuki pointed toward the massive wolf in the sky. Beyond its enormous size, the energy it contained was incredible, at least at the level of a Demigod.

“That’s the World Eater, Orbis Manducale. Her specialty is consuming worlds. She’s my free-spirited younger sister.”
“I see. Doesn’t look much like you, though.”

“Different parents,” I replied, watching Fumitsuki glance back and forth between me and the World Eater. My so-called little sister, the World Eater, was essentially a failed attempt at creating another god of endings. Half of her being was not human, but the world itself.

A high-ranking god, one of the upper echelons even among gods, known as the God of Chaos, once tried to create a new god of endings using a world as an experimental base. The world itself gained consciousness but failed to become a god; that was the birth of the World Eater. As her name suggested, she devoured worlds.

Because she was modeled after me, she could descend freely into dying worlds, consuming them as they collapsed. She was a troublesome existence even for gods. There were even talks during the Divine Council (named by yours truly) that I, as the god of endings, should kill her. But her creator, the God of Chaos, refused. After all, the World Eater brought chaos to the worlds, and she only visited those already doomed to end, so while the damage was real, it was never truly catastrophic.

Besides, the World Eater was quite whimsical. She didn’t constantly devour worlds; she took long breaks in between. She was less than ten thousand years old, but as she aged, she was expected to sleep for tens of thousands of years at a time.

Honestly, I was jealous. Like, really jealous!

“Whoa, she’s starting to eat the lasers.”
“Guess she was hungry,” Lullus added.
“I honestly doubt that…”

Lullus offered a mild correction, but it wasn’t entirely correct. The truth was somewhere in the middle. The World Eater wasn’t hungry in the biological sense, nor did she stop eating when full. But she did consume to replenish her energy. If you defined eating as energy restoration, then yes, she was hungry.

Also, while she appeared to have a mouth, she could eat through other means as well. As a half-god, half-world being, she had no fixed form. Then again, neither did I, if I was being honest.

“Still, she’s not moving.”
“Maybe she has good manners.”
“Eating while walking is fun, but not exactly polite, huh?”

As Fumitsuki and I exchanged these pointless remarks, Lullus’ expression shifted into one of mild exasperation. But I knew the truth. She only looked that way. In truth, she found our silly chatter endearing. If anything happened, I’d let Lullus handle it, as the responsible one among us.

“So, Fini, you’re just going to watch?”
“Yes. The first thing I do when I encounter the World Eater is observe. My work in this world is already finished. Then, if she targets me, I’ll fight back. Otherwise, I stay out of it.”
“So she won’t come here, then?”
“Probably not. The gods are watching this closely, but some of them won’t be happy about how it turns out.”

Those displeased gods belonged to the faction opposing the God of Chaos. Still, there were quite a few gods that joined the God of Chaos’ side simply because they didn’t want to confront him. He was simply too powerful. Thus, the opposing faction didn’t intend to directly intervene, and if things didn’t go their way, they’d simply cry themselves to sleep.

For the record, my own parent god happened to be aligned with the God of Chaos faction. My parent was the only one capable of communicating directly with me, and the one who authorized my assignment to this world. So, reluctantly, I was on that side too.

God never seemed to have it easy. Still, I heard the new world he made was going well, so I wished him all the best. Apparently, a noblewoman named Fujiwara-something became a kind of god herself. Not a true deity, but more like a revered ancestor of humankind.