Chapter Text
Chapter 1: Helant, Congratulations on Your Rebirth
Night had fallen. Dark clouds smothered the sky, and a cold wind cut to the bone.
A young man clutched a USB drive in his fist and squeezed into his dim rental room, shoulders hunched against the bite of winter air.
Click.
He went straight to his computer. The moment he found the right interface and plugged the drive in, lines of code flooded the screen.
“I finally got the source code for YGGDRASIL. Whether I succeed or fail comes down to this.”
He stared at the monitor with bloodshot eyes. Deep shadows sat beneath them, proof of nights that never ended. His fingers moved across the keyboard without pause, editing the code at a terrifying speed.
As he worked, he flicked his gaze to the desktop clock.
23:00.
“Every second counts.”
Bzzz.
The phone beside the keyboard suddenly vibrated and lit up. An in game message.
[Message: Helant san, in one more hour, YGGDRASIL will shut down completely. Nazarick was built by everyone. Please, you have to come online to say goodbye.] Momonga
He gave it a single glance, then went back to typing. Under the glow of the screen, his hands moved so quickly they almost blurred, command after command snapping into place.
“Relax. I’ve prepared for over twenty years. There’s no way I’m fumbling at the very end.”
At the same time, inside YGGDRASIL.
“Then, Momonga san… if fate allows, we will meet again.”
“Ah, Herohero san. Please… take care…”
Momonga withdrew his skeletal claws, Herohero’s words echoing in his skull.
Meet again if fate allows.
He raised his head and looked at the Round Table Conference Room. Forty two empty chairs surrounded the table, each one a silent monument to a former companion.
A weight settled in his chest, like a boulder pressing down harder with every breath.
He could not stop himself from opening his friend list again.
[Helant (Offline)]
“Momonga, I’m a bit busy lately, but don’t worry. I’ll definitely be online when YGGDRASIL shuts down.” Helant
It was a message sent more than ten days ago. Momonga had read it so many times the words felt carved into him.
In the final moments of the game… had Helant san still failed to make it?
Momonga remembered the first time he met him, back when the guild was still called Nine’s Own Goal. He and Takimi had saved Helant from being hunted down by human players.
After that, Helant began walking the path of a logistics master. Whether it was alchemy or equipment forging, he became the universally acknowledged number one in the game.
Most of the divine class gear worn by guild members had been forged by his hands.
And back then, by exploiting a bug, Helant had created the first and only man made World Item. In a single stroke, he secured a status no one could dispute, the unrivaled top of both alchemy and forging.
Yet despite his brilliance, Helant got along with everyone. Touch Me had once tried to recruit him relentlessly. Takimi and Ulbert treated him as a close friend. Tsukuyomi even claimed they were kindred spirits.
Momonga let out a long breath, forcing some of the heaviness out of his lungs.
“If you hadn’t refused the Guild Master seat… it never would have fallen to me.”
He checked the message he had sent.
Unread.
Slowly, Momonga stood and walked toward the guild weapon.
The Staff of Ainz Ooal Gown.
This staff carried an era of their lives within it. Someone had been dumped by his girlfriend because of it. Someone else had been fired because of it. Another had eaten only one meal a day for an entire month because of it.
And yet, they had been happy.
Ulbert and Takimi used to bicker like children. Tsukuyomi and Helant would argue over equipment designs with obsessive passion.
Momonga lifted the staff, gave the empty room one last nostalgic look, then turned to leave.
Creak.
Outside the door stood Sebas and the battle maids of the Pleiades, creations of Takimi’s hand in this world.
“Follow me.”
Momonga did not linger. He wanted to reach the Throne Room as quickly as possible.
That was where he would welcome the end of Nazarick, the end of a place that carried years of memories.
23:30.
Only half an hour remained until server shutdown.
“Helant san…”
The name box was still gray.
Bzzz.
The doors to the Throne Room opened.
The hall was cold and dim. Banners hung from the ceiling. Guardian statues lined the red carpet, which stretched straight toward the throne on the raised platform.
Momonga stepped onto the carpet and walked forward, one measured step at a time.
At the foot of the throne stood Albedo. She wore a pure white gown, beautiful and dignified, smiling as if she were welcoming him home.
Momonga knew she was only an NPC, a manufactured person with manufactured thoughts. Even so, he found himself momentarily stunned by her beauty.
“If she were alive,” Momonga muttered with a quiet chuckle, “Helant san would be in for quite the good fortune.”
He opened Albedo’s settings with the guild weapon.
The last line, buried among dense text, was painfully clear.
[Settings: In love with Helant]
“Helant san, this was Tsukuyomi san’s reward for your Pure Succubus Contrast Theory.”
When Albedo had been created, Tsukuyomi had wanted to set her as a “bitch.” Helant, however, had presented an argument so shamelessly bold it left everyone laughing.
“Instead of that, wouldn’t it create more gap appeal if a succubus was loyal to love?”
The line “In love with Helant” had been Momonga’s suggestion. He had wanted to use it to tease his friend together with Tsukuyomi.
But Tsukuyomi had already quit the game.
And now, even Helant had not stayed to the end.
Momonga’s mood sank again.
23:55.
Five minutes remained.
As the time bled away, Momonga could only sigh.
“Helant san… you broke your word.”
“I don’t think I did.”
A gentle voice answered him.
Momonga’s head snapped up.
Helant stood there in pure white mage robes, exquisitely modeled, handsome enough to feel unreal. He tilted his head, a faint teasing warmth in his tone.
“If I hadn’t come, would Guild Master Momonga have started crying?”
Momonga did not even bother to argue. The relief hit too hard. He spoke fast, a smile rising in spite of himself, his voice lifting with it.
“I thought you wouldn’t make it online. This is good. We can say goodbye to Nazarick together.”
Helant did not respond out loud. Instead, he added silently in his heart.
This is not just saying goodbye to a game.
It’s saying goodbye to the ordinary, painful life I lived before, and welcoming a new one.
He glanced at the time.
23:59.
Only the final minute remained.
Thump. Thumpthump. Thumpthumpthump.
Helant’s heart began to hammer, faster and faster, like it wanted to break free of his ribs.
Inside the gaming pod, his real body trembled uncontrollably.
More than twenty years of effort. Nearly all his savings. Nearly all his energy. Everything poured into YGGDRASIL.
There was no path back.
Success or failure depended on this single move.
The countdown began.
10… 9… 8…
3… 2… 1…
Helant closed his eyes.
Time hit zero.
Pleasure surged up from the depths of his soul and spilled through his limbs and bones. Endless vitality roared through him like a flood.
He could feel it clearly.
His soul was fusing perfectly with his current body.
Like a newborn, Helant drew in a deep breath.
For the first time, cool air filled his lungs.
He opened azure eyes. For the first time, his holy, handsome face curled into a smile that looked truly alive.
“Phew,” he whispered. “Helant, congratulations on your rebirth.”