Third Talk of the Day The Pope's Perspective I left someone else to handle tidying up the conference room and headed for my private quarters.
Closing the door, I confirmed I was alone, then collapsed into my chair as though falling.
Only now were my legs beginning to shake.
I let out a deep, heavy sigh.
No matter how many times you experience it, the terror of death never gets easier to bear.
This time I'd managed to survive, but what would happen in ten days?
Dying is frightening.
But more than that, what gnawed at me was the fear that the world might be destroyed in my absence.
I had boasted at the meeting that things would be fine without me, and in truth, the God Word faith would endure even if I weren't there.
Still, I couldn't shake the unease that something might happen while I was gone.
I scolded my trembling knees, rose to my feet, and reached for the bottle on the shelf.
Normally I held myself back, but today I thought I could be forgiven for cracking this seal open.
That short meeting had pushed both body and mind to the breaking point.
"Could you prepare two glasses?"
At the sudden voice, I turned around, and there sat the Black Dragon, elegantly perched in a chair.
"Even you seem to have had quite the scare from that."
"I hardly think eavesdropping is something to be proud of."
She let my complaint slide without the slightest concern, her smile deepening with luster.
I swallowed the sigh about to escape, set out two glasses, and took a seat across from the Black Dragon.
I poured wine into one glass and handed it to her, then filled my own the same way.
"Then — cheers."
The clear clink of glass against glass rang out.
The wine poured in, trickling down my aged throat with a sharp sting.
First drink in a while — apparently it was a bit too strong for this old body of mine.
"What did you think of that?"
After a silence spent tilting her glass, the Black Dragon poured herself a second cup and asked.
"I don't know," I admitted honestly.
In this meeting, I had failed to understand a single thing about that girl called Shiro, the one who called herself the Administrator.
I couldn't even gauge what kind of person she was. If anything, it was the other way around — I had been the one being tested.
Those words she left me with at the end — "I shall look forward to observing your resolve" — spoke louder than anything else.
The tester and the tested.
It was as if the power dynamic between us had been laid bare, plain as day.
"I suppose so. I don't understand her either."
The Black Dragon laughed in high spirits and took a sip of wine.
"Is it true that she is the Administrator?"
"I feel it would be unfair for me to reveal that... but very well. She is, without question, the Administrator. More so than I am — she exists deeper within the system itself."
The Black Dragon's words brought a grim understanding, and with it, my exhaustion only deepened.
"So the situation must be dire enough that the Administrator herself has to act directly?"
"It is."
She said it so simply, already reaching for her third cup.
"But there's no need to be overly pessimistic. Whether she succeeds in what she's set out to do, or whether I cease to exist — in the end, it will be one or the other. All I need to do is move along the script she's prepared and pretend I know nothing."
She spoke of her own disappearance with something almost like cheer.
"Is that acceptable to you?"
"What do you mean?"
"That you would become the next living sacrifice to the system."
"Ah. That."
"Yes. Once the Goddess is gone, you will have no reason to remain in this world — much less any reason to take up her mantle."
"I told you before — having come this far, I cannot bring myself to abandon it.
Despite her occasional troubling remarks, I knew that pressing the matter would get me nowhere.
This was someone who refused to rely on anyone.
There had never been anyone who could stand beside her.
And there had never been anyone she could truly trust.
That was precisely why — just one person.
I did not have what it took to stand at her side.
Perhaps that was why.
Why the Black Dragon was in such unusually good spirits.
Because someone who was worthy of standing beside her had finally appeared.
"She's an interesting one. Do you know what she calls me behind my back?"
"I couldn't possibly guess."
"A coward."
Well, well.
Calling the most powerful being in this world a coward.
Was she bold or simply unhinged? The serene, dignified impression from the meeting felt like a completely different person.
"I'm self-aware enough to know I can't argue with that. I've refused to make a choice, again and again. And because of that, I've lost the right to choose anything now. I'll simply follow the script as written. Whether she sees it through to completion or stumbles somewhere along the way — I'll be there to witness it. Either outcome suits me just fine."
From her words, I sensed that Shiro harbored far grander ambitions than I had imagined.
And the fact that she was telling me this — it was an unspoken warning not to interfere.
"My only hope is that this script of hers brings no harm to the Human race."
That was my answer, and it was final.
No matter what the Black Dragon said to caution me, if it didn't serve the Human race, there was no reason to comply.
I, too, had lost the right to choose — save for this one choice: to act for the sake of the Human race.
"I see. You've been a good host."
Before I realized it, the wine bottle was empty.
In my glass, only the first cup remained, barely touched — just a single sip taken.
Most of it, it seemed, had been drunk by the Black Dragon.
By the time I noticed, she had already vanished from the seat across from me.