Chapter Text
When the Ancient Sun God first walked out of chaos sea and brought light to the world, he sensed an omnipresent entity prying into him.
''Mysteries''
Just from where exactly are you watching?
The ancient Sun God was the pinnacle of two pathways. Light and Darkness. Omniscient and Omnipotent.
In addition to his control of chaos sea and the slate left behind by the original God, he also possessed the Error uniqueness that should belong to the Lord of The Mysteries. No doubt spoils of war between the two old ones.
Even then, perhaps the most interesting thing he had in his possession is the simple black leather book secured tightly to him.
The notebook is small enough to rest in His palm. No title to hint at its origin or purpose. No scratch, no wrinkle, no sign of time to suggest a history. Only pristine white blank pages.
His omniscient ability was unable to see through it.
An object that held secrets and was completely unknown even to The Sun God, who's omniscient, one of the highest authorities in the world. It baffled him.
This notebook could only belong to the Lord of Mysteries.
Grisha decided to keep the notebook, regardless of its unknown origin. His intuition whispered that it would be beneficial in the long run.
And so, the notebook was kept in his personal research lab.
For now, there are more pressing matters to handle. Human civilization, city states, potential allies and enemies, deciphering the slate left behind by God.
The path of ascension to be God Almighty.
It was simple, really, to be the figure of Human worship.
For the humans of this age, light was the meaning to everything. Essentially, Grisha was the manifestation of their desires and prayers, The Sun God.
Even so, his first problem rose rather early on. Something he hadn't expected and wasn't very sure on how to deal with.
The awakening of the Original Will.
Thus, Grisha found himself spending endless hours in his lab, searching for a solution. He could not enter a deep state of slumber to battle the Will—not now, not when the foundations of humanity were still fragile.
An alternative had to be made.
So, out of an old habit etched into his very essence, Grisha researched—scribbling thoughts onto paper as if writing could chain chaos.
The cataclysm of the Original Will awakening in me seems to be related to the Sea of Chaos.
Can it be eliminated? Or only suppressed? What is the most effective way?
He stared at his own words, lost—perhaps waiting for divine inspiration to strike him.
How funny. Even after becoming a god, Grisha still thought like a man.
He sighed and lifted his pen again, intending to write further.
but then, under his hand, the blank space began to darken.
Ink bled into the paper on its own, forming words that should not exist:
Who are you?
— the Notebook asked.
Grisha blinked, startled. For the first time since awakening as an omniscient being, he was truly taken aback.
In his distracted state, he must have written on the mysterious notebook instead of his log.
Was this why his omniscience had led him to keep it?
Amused now, he wrote back:
''Shouldn’t you introduce yourself first?''
Slowly, new words surfaced, as if written by an unseen hand.
I’m the owner of these notes.
How did you get them?
They were only words, yet Grisha could feel the agitation behind them.
Following his intuition, he decided to answer honestly, as absurd as it sounded.
''They were with me when I woke up.''
Then, against his usual calm, and because this was giving him an unexpected headache, he added:
''Maybe you should take better care of your things.''
Says the thief.
— came the immediate reply. Grisha frowned, indignant.
''I’m not a thief. I’m a god.''
Mr. Thief God seems to have a problem.
He hesitated, mulling over his options. Somewhere in the back of his mind, his spiritual intuition hummed like a mockingbird—the same sound that had guided him on his path to godhood.
''Do you have a solution?''
I might. But why should I help a thief who stole my notebook?
''I told you the truth. I found it with me.''
He defended himself once again. Then, extending an olive branch, he answered the first question.
''My name is Grisha Adams.''
After a pause, he wrote more.
''I used to be a researcher in Chernobyl. After an accident, I woke up in this world, and somehow became a god.''
It was a gamble. But those who risk nothing gain nothing.
Slowly, new words imprinted themselves on the page, an answer, a mutual confession between two strangers who were no longer alone.
I am Zhou Mingrui. I used to be an engineer. Things happened… and I, too, woke up in this world as a god.
Nice to meet you, fellow unfortunate soul.
Grisha smiled despite himself.
Who would have thought that this unknown notebook would connect him to another soul, adrift like his own, in this foreign world?
''Nice to meet you too, my friend.''
I can help you with your problem.
This is the first contact, and the first blessing.
Grisha follows the instructions, using a part of his personality, the Authority of Degeneration and characteristic of the Hanged Man Pathway to make his first angel, Sasrir, allowing him to wield the Chaos Sea without falling to corruption.
Just like that, and from the most unexpected source, Grisha's first problem as a God was solved.
“Thank you for your help,” Grisha wrote, the ink drying in neat strokes. “It was a success.”
That was quick. Congratulations on silencing the annoying fly
“It’s because of your effective solution,” he answered. Then, unable to quale his curiosity, he asked, “Did you face a similar problem before?”
Yes, but my fly is different from yours.
Grisha paused, the corner of his lip lifting. He tapped the page thoughtfully, connecting two dots in his mind.
“Are you Mysteries? I felt your gaze on me when I walked out of the Chaos Sea.”
The reply came slower this time, like ink hesitating before taking shape.
Who knows? Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not.
Grisha chuckled, recognizing the bluff for what it was.
“It’s already apparent we inherited the powers of the two previous Pillars who destroyed each other and caused the cataclysm.
I am God Almighty, and you are Lord of the Mysteries.”
I used to be, but I’m not anymore.
“Because of the awakening?”
This makes us two people aboard the same sinking ship.
“In a way,” Grisha replied, his handwriting softening. “So let’s work hard together to keep the ship afloat.”
To say Grisha was fascinated by the notebook and its owner was an understatement. He was hooked, like a fish caught on a line, drawn by a curiosity he could not resist. He needed to understand how it worked, why it could defy his omniscience, and what secrets it concealed.
Perhaps it was the researcher in him, the man who had willingly handled radioactive elements in pursuit of truths he could barely grasp. The unknown radioactive element he once studied—something left behind by God, no less—now seemed almost quaint in comparison. A lesser man might have denied the impossible, but Grisha, a man of faith and inquiry alike, had always believed that science was simply another path toward understanding God.
And now here he was, a man made god, possessing all the knowledge he once chased.
The notebook’s power to nullify even his omniscience had puzzled him at first, but now it stirred something long dormant: the urge to learn, to probe, to dissect the mechanisms of the world, to understand how the unseen moved and shaped reality.
Grisha recognized this as a new puzzle, a problem to be pieced together, and for the first time in an age of divinity, he felt the old thrill of discovery surge through him.
It was only natural to share his theories and findings with a fellow researcher. in this case, Zhou Mingrui, the owner of the notebook and his fellow man made God.
“I’ve been thinking, The Lord of Mysteries is the King of Space and Time.”
Your point?
“I was just theorizing how we’re able to communicate through a notebook. Don’t you find it strange?”
It is strange, but not the strangest thing in this world.
“Still, it’s fascinating. Even in our previous era, this level of communication was only achieved on the later years."
Wait, what year are you from? 1980s?
Grisha was used to knowing everything. Yet this new companion kept catching him off guard, tugging the rug from under his feet.
“1983. How did you know?”
You said you worked in Chernobyl, and you clearly never experienced the internet
“My knowledge of the history after that point comes from omniscience. I take it you lived during a later era than me?”
2015
If you’re omniscient, then why are you theorizing the notebook instead of using your fancy powers?
“It’s because your authority over Mystery nullifies my omniscience, So let me finish my theory.”
The pen moved across the paper again, steady and precise.
“As I was saying, I think the notebook absorbed a portion of your powers, specifically those tied to space and time, and now manifests them in this way."
It sounds plausible, but there isn't enough evidence to draw a final conclusion
"This is why I experimented a bit."
Grisha was an established researcher, he wouldn't have presented a theory without practical evidence.
"I used my blood as a direct medium to tie it to an object. Now it has one of my abilities.
I decided to call it a Sealed Artifact.
Since your Notebook is the first of its kind, it can be Sealed Artifact - 0
This is my notebook, you can't name it however you want.
But Grisha simply ignored the text, and throughout history, objects of similar nature will be called sealed artifacts, each identified by a series of numbers.