Book 2: Lizards and Religion

  Prologue: Script

  Momonga sat at her desk in her office space. The man turned woman was thinking, she was thinking of her and her people’s future. She had decided to build a religion around herself, so that she may better make sure that the people of this world didn’t kill it.

  Yet, she found herself stumped. How did one make a religion? How did one create worthwhile follows and trust? It was a rather tricky thing to pin down. She wanted to make religion and build trust and faith around it.

  That was why she found herself sitting in front of notebook. Its spine and covers, covered in leather bindings. The pages bnk for her to write in. She had been sitting here for the past six hours. Yet, she hadn’t the faintest idea on how to start.

  “Oh,” inspiration struck her, “I’ll just write our guild’s history. Maybe only the philosophical spots, though,” she said holding her pencil in her hand.

  As she wrote the first words to the entire religion, millions of lives tied to this moment, she smiled. It was time to reminisce once more. This time, for a reason.

  “Hail, readers of this scripture. I am the st of the forty one, the st of the nine, Momonga. I write this scripture so that any who wish to learn of my comrades lives, and learn of their wisdom may do so. Yet, remember, each chapter of this scripture will be a different supreme being’s tales. Some may counteract each other,” she spoke as she wrote, her smile never fading.

  …

  Momonga walked down the hallway. His voice ran through the voice changer as he hummed as he walked. He had yet to obtain the name, “World Disaster,” from Ulbert. He was still a He. He had yet to be transported to the new world, in effect.

  “I wonder,” He spoke, his voice going up an octave as he thought, “I wonder if Ulbert is on?” he said to himself more than anyone else.

  Yet, there was someone there. The very same someone that he was talking about. The sounds of his hooves were quiet as he walked behind the overlord. He didn’t even try to sneak up on the man.

  “Yo man! You needed something?” the demon asked, and Momonga wheeled around and let out a spooked noise.

  “Ah!” he spoke, the AI voice doing a very good job of making him sound like a woman, “You scared me man! I was just wondering if you wanted to talk?” he asked finally.

  “Oh, about what? Anything in particur? I got time right now,” Ulbert spoke, looking down at his wrist as if a watch was there, there wasn’t, “Yeah, I got like an hour before I have to go to bed. What’s up?” he said.

  “I was just wondering, for the longest time, you have said that a government ruled by an iron fist would be the best, why?” he asked, his mind coming up with a question before he could really formute the words in his mind.

  “Why?” Ulbert tilted his head back and rubbed his chin like an evil wizard, “Because then someone could finally direct this world,” he said while looking at Momonga with a serious expression, “All of the different businesses fight each other. If we got one person directing us, then we wouldn’t fight as much and only follow his or her dream. The world wouldn’t be as divided. This dictator could unite the whole world together in shared kinship with them, or untied hatred for them. We would be one people once again. Not a fragmented world as we are now,” he expined, his voice growing heated.

  “Huh?” Momonga simply responded, “That’s a neat idea. I get it,” he said, then they continued on with the day.

  …

  She smiled, her face shifting into happiness. She had just finished her book on Ulbert Ain Odle. He was a strange man to pin down, with all of his quirks and strange fascinations.

  Yet, she loved him as she loved the rest of the tomb. Her heart was in it, her love was in it. Ulbert, she felt, would be proud of the path she was carving for her family, for her home.

  She closed the book, her mind sleepy and tired from the writing. She sighed and leaned back in her chair. She would write in it ter. After she had some sleep to reset her mind.

  She closed her eyes and thought of what chapter to write next. With nothing truly coming to mind, she sighed again. She got up, wrapped her bnket around herself, and left the room. Right out of it was her maid for the day. She believed this one’s name was… Foth?

  She looked just like any other of the maids inhabiting the 9th floor. Her garb was that of a maid’s uniform, and her appearance was utterly cute. It was shocking how well people could design the looks of NPC sometimes, Momonga herself included.

  “I’m ready for bed. Prepare a nighttime bath for me and my nightwear. Make sure to set aside some water on my bedside table,” she instructed with her practiced voice.

  …

  Zogsalken