1. An Invitation from the Goddess

"Alright! Final build complete. System rebooting."

With a flourish, Kami-kawa Shiro activated the Filidia System.

The Filidia System was the computer system Shiro had spent years developing to run a game world crafted in VR—Virtual Reality, or simulated reality.

Built on a novel architecture he had devised, the system could construct worlds with unprecedented realism and intricate settings and environments.

Shiro donned his VR headset and issued a voice command.

"Mitoka, report the system status."

Mitoka was the name of the voice-interactive help AI—Artificial Intelligence—Shiro had developed himself. A cutting-edge, fully conversational AI, she was his latest creation.

The VR headset was far smaller and lighter than older models, equipped with full audio and visual input/output.

Though not the full-dive, sensory-overload kind seen in sci-fi novels—regrettably, modern science still couldn’t link brain and machine.

Still, in visual terms, it offered over 180 degrees of field of view, and resolution at the center matched that of a 4K display. A significant improvement over past models, offering a decent sense of presence.

"All engines operating normally. Frame rate maintained at 240 FPS."

Mitoka reported in a neutral, slightly mechanical tone.

"Shall I display the system status screen?"

She inquired. A top-tier AI, capable of presenting what was needed based on the situation.

"Yeah, please."

A screen about eight feet across—six of them, roughly—popped into view just a few meters ahead in his vision, displaying the system's operational status. All status check items glowed green.

After confirming the necessary details, Shiro briefly scanned the scenery in a full 360-degree sweep.

"Yeah, it’s spectacular! Mountains in the distance, forests, lakes. All that effort really paid off! Well, it’s algorithmically generated, sure. Still, I guess I’m proud of the algorithm I built."

Shiro smiled, satisfied.

"Integration test looks good for now… phew. Been pulling all-nighters for days—no surprise I’m wiped."

He murmured that, then removed his headset, sinking deep into the chair and leaning back against the headrest.

Shiro was a second-year university student, turning nineteen this year. Majoring in cyber-molecular engineering. A lifelong programmer who’d even launched a small startup based on his own apps.

His father had been a top-tier software engineer, so Shiro had been taught programming from childhood—playing with code as naturally as breathing. He could write code like he spoke his native language.

Passionate about programming—more than food, more than sleep—once he got into a groove, he’d code through the night without pause. This time, with the final polish underway, he’d pushed himself hard. That’s why he was exhausted now.

The system Shiro was currently developing was a prototype world simulation system, running on over five hundred computers connected in a distributed network, all housed in a single room of his home.

Don’t underestimate a computer. Modern ones pack the power of a supercomputer from a generation ago. Connect five hundred together, and you’ve got serious distributed processing.

Even so, the whole thing’s barely a meter cubed in size.

The world simulator running on that hardware is Shiro’s personal VR system—a dream since childhood, bringing to life the sword-and-magic world he’s always imagined.

Shiro loves building everything from scratch, so the core of the simulator—the “world engine”—was designed and built entirely from his own unique architecture, down to the last screw.

Today, after long effort, he’d finally succeeded in rebuilding the system, rebooting it, and achieving stable operation.

Then—ping—came the intercom chime.

“Huh? Someone showing up this late? Unusual.”

It was past nine o’clock. Shiro frowned, but checked the intercom screen anyway. A woman appeared.

He decided to open the door.

There she stood: a Western-looking woman with long black hair reaching her waist.

Her hair was loosely tied at the back, flowing down to her hips. Sun-kissed skin, sharp features, and eyes so gray they seemed to pull you in—stunningly beautiful.

She wore a white, high-end coat over a business suit, slender and tall. Slightly taller than Shiro, she seemed.

“You must be Shiro Fushikawa? Nice to meet you. I’m Firumia.”

Her voice was clear and pure—Shiro froze for a moment, caught off guard.

“Eh… y-yes, uh, likewise. So, uh… what brings you here?”

Shiro stumbled over his words, flustered by Firumia’s sheer beauty.

“I actually have a matter to discuss regarding the system you’re developing.”

Firumia spoke without preamble.

Shiro’s mind reeled. The system he was developing was private, never released to anyone.

No one should know about it. He paused, then decided to ask her instead.

“Uh… where’d you hear about my system? Well, uh… anyway, please, come in.”

Though hesitant and wary, something about her felt… safe. He invited the woman into the living room.

—Feels like I’ve met her before somewhere… but a beauty like that? I’d never forget. Probably just my imagination.

He shook it off, then settled across from her on the living room sofa.

“So… what exactly is it you’d like to discuss?”

“Yes. I’d like to ask for your cooperation in developing a system I manage. I’d truly like to extend an invitation to your world.”

“Development-related, huh? … Uh, ‘invitation to your world’? So, like, a job offer? Your company’s invitation?”

“No. An invitation to the world I oversee. And as a sign of respect, I’ve named it ‘Filidia’ for you.”

Shiro’s confusion deepened.

“Sorry, I’m a bit lost here…”

Filidia—exactly the name of the world his newly bootstrapped system was meant to run. The phrase “invitation to your world” hit him like a system error his understanding couldn’t parse.

Actually, I am a goddess—specifically, the governing deity of the world known as 'Filidia,' which exists in another realm from Earth's perspective.

Firumia casually dropped an utterly outrageous statement.

"……" Shiro didn’t know what to say, words catching in his throat.

"And now, there's a problem in that world," Firumia said, her expression sorrowful, continuing on.

That issue is believed to be a critical system bug, requiring investigation and repair from within the world itself. However, according to divine management protocols, gods cannot directly intervene once a world has been activated. Therefore, we’d greatly appreciate it if Shiro could take on that role.

Firumia explained.

Shiro’s confusion wouldn’t settle.

"Uh, so a goddess is like a female deity, right?"

Yes, that one.

Firumia smiled—a teasing, affectionate curve of the lips—and held Shiro’s gaze as she answered.

Shiro stared at her for a moment, caught in thought. Then,

"So, that request for system troubleshooting in the other world, right?"

Yes, that’s correct.

“……”

Shiro stared at Firumia, expression unreadable—what could he even say?

Shiro had done system troubleshooting before, but even he thought this situation was off—something was clearly wrong.

Fufu. Sorry about this—suddenly claiming to be a goddess and asking something like this… I know it’s hard to believe, right?

Firumia smiled, watching Shiro’s bewildered face.

"No, well, hehehehehe."

Shiro could only let out a dry laugh.

"Then, would this convince you?"

Firumia pressed her palms together as if in prayer at the shrine, then snapped them once.

In an instant, everything except the sofa and table they were sitting on vanished, leaving only a blank, empty space.

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