Chapter 547 Extra: Natasha
June 2046.
Early summer in Starlight City turned sweltering. Seasonal winds from the Gulf of Mexico failed to disperse the subtropical heat, bringing only humid air instead. Summer always arrived earlier in the South than in the North.
Even the cicadas seemed more industrious than their northern counterparts, climbing early to the banyan treetops to create their maddening chorus—a sound that encircled the Shinrikyo temple grounds, restless and impatient like a crowd engaged in heated argument.
In the Japanese-styled courtyard, a young woman in shrine maiden attire sat beneath the eaves. Her hands rested quietly at her sides as she watched a green cicada perched on a branch outside.
As the holy maiden of Shinrikyo religion's Starlight City branch, Natasha had been groomed since childhood as the church's successor. Her parents had proclaimed to the world that she possessed extraordinary abilities.
When she was young, she found the blessing ceremonies fascinating. Though she didn't understand why the faithful gazed at her with such devotion, she enjoyed being respected and adored.
With age came awareness—she gradually realized she possessed no special powers whatsoever. The Blessing ritual merely comforted followers and served as her parents' tool for gathering wealth.
Natasha grew to dislike these performances. She struggled to bear the way followers looked at her—like drowning swimmers clutching at straws. Adolescence brought rebellious feelings, yet she couldn't resist her parents' demands. Perhaps deep down, she still enjoyed being revered.
But if people discovered she was merely an ordinary girl, she would lose her identity, status, and privileged life.
She tapped her wooden clogs against the floor, her feet wrapped in pristine white socks. Since Shinrikyo originated in Solstice, she always wore traditional shrine maiden attire—red and white garments that appeared both striking and peculiar. In Starlight City, she rarely ventured outside in such clothes.
Behind her, the temple buzzed with noise. She'd come to the courtyard seeking fresh air, uninterested in whatever strange argument the elders were having now. Looking up, she saw white clouds like mountain peaks slowly pressing downward. The air felt stifling.
Discomfort rose in Natasha's chest. Something was about to happen. She placed her hand over her heart, feeling its accelerated rhythm.
"Is something bad going to happen?" she whispered.
The wooden door behind her slid open. Natasha turned to see the Shinrikyo High Elder—the man who had always shown her special care since childhood—looking at her with grave seriousness.
"Natasha, I must inform you of something. Two hours ago, the High Priest and Priestess's plane crashed over the Gulf of Mexico."
Something exploded in Natasha's mind, leaving her thoughts blank. Whatever the Elder said afterward became incomprehensible noise. She only registered his face, more severe and cold than usual. Even his ridiculous bald head resembled an icy stone.
In the summer of 2046, Natasha's life trajectory changed dramatically. From heaven, she fell to hell.
---
Bob and Isla's funeral was held a month later. Their bodies were never recovered.
With their deaths came a devastating crisis for Shinrikyo. Bob and Isla, as High Priest and Priestess, had promised followers that faith in Shinrikyo would bring happiness and shield them from disaster. Countless adherents had become entranced by these fabrications—disillusioned people seeking meaning, chronically ill patients seeking healing, family members desperate for cures for loved ones.
For these hollow promises, they had donated everything, some even defrauding friends and relatives to give more to the church.
When Bob and Isla died, these dreams shattered. Many awoke to realize they had been deceived.
At the funeral, Natasha knelt before their photographs dressed in black. No one came to pay respects. Instead, enraged followers stormed in, hurling abuse at her family. Those once gentle faces now twisted with horrific anger.
Only her childhood friend Neil stood firmly before her, dressed in a black suit, shielding her. But Neil's strength alone proved insufficient against hundreds of furious followers who initially only shouted insults but quickly escalated to violence.
They ransacked Natasha's home, stealing everything they could carry. Some, finding nowhere else to direct their fury, kicked over the memorial photographs.
Natasha watched in terror, begging through tears for them to stop. "Please, take whatever you want. Just leave my parents' photos. Please!"
Seeing her pleading only intensified their satisfaction. Someone slapped her face hard. "You damned fraud! Your whole family deserves death—dying a hundred times wouldn't atone for your sins!"
Natasha's cheek swelled, but she clutched the photos to her chest, refusing to let go.
Neil stood before her, begging, "Natasha is innocent. If you must vent your anger, do it on me. Spare her! She's just a child."
No one refused such an invitation. Neil was quickly beaten to the ground, fists and feet raining down on him like hailstones. Natasha watched in horror, her body trembling.
From within the crowd, someone reached toward her. "You little fraud—since you're still alive, you'll pay for everything your parents did!"
Natasha's mind went blank. She felt her body suddenly grow cool as she was thrown to the floor. Countless hands reached for her. She had never experienced anything like this.
The overwhelming trauma numbed her mind; her body lost all sensation. She only knew that every part of her felt as though covered with crawling ants. She couldn't even open her mouth to scream.
In that moment, she became like a doll, violated by too many to count. Even the bald head she had once fondly patted crawled atop her.
Natasha believed she had died, but somehow she survived. Yet what kind of survival was this? She had lost everything.
During two years of recovery, she attempted suicide countless times. Neil remained by her side, insisting none of it was her fault, that she was the best girl in the world.
For Natasha, however, such warmth couldn't fill the enormous void in her soul.
"Neil, don't you think this world is too corrupt?" Natasha said softly, sitting in her wheelchair, gazing at the snow outside. "If divine beings truly exist, why don't they cleanse this world?"
Neil approached, kneeling before her, his eyes filled with compassion and sincerity. Yet he had no answer to her question.
Natasha smiled weakly. "Of course. There are no gods in this world. Everything is merely the consequence of human actions. My parents were manipulative frauds. Shinrikyo's followers were greedy, ignorant believers. And I was a weak, helpless puppet manipulated by everyone."
Her expression suddenly hardened. "This world shouldn't harbor creatures like humans."
Neil held her cold hand, silently comforting her. The snowfall grew heavier, never ceasing.
---
The snow disaster descended without warning. Relentless blizzards continued as though they would never end. The world descended into chaos, filled with hopeless cries.
But Natasha felt no fear—she felt something like joy. Because finally, the gods had heard her voice and come to purify this corrupt world!
In the apocalypse, humanity's ugliness emerged in full display. She witnessed children abandoning parents for food; husbands and wives living under one roof, each keeping knives beneath their pillows.
Natasha smiled with satisfaction. She had expected to die in this cleansed world. The apocalypse brought chaos everywhere. Frail as she was, she became separated from Neil. She should have died.
But as she neared death from cold and starvation, a special voice suddenly resonated within her. She awakened an ability called [Supernatural Ability Return.] Like growing an extra limb, she intuitively understood its purpose.
The empty eyes of Natasha finally gleamed with light. Wasn't this divine guidance? This must be her mission as God's apostle—to Bless others, to take power from the unfaithful, and ultimately to become a god who would punish all impurity!
She recalled everything that happened at the funeral. If she had been powerful enough then, none of it would have occurred. To change the world, one needs power sufficient to overturn everything.
Natasha survived. Her life was no longer aimless. To fulfill the divine purpose, she would sacrifice anything.
Her first victim was a nun named Jasmine Faye.
In the bitter apocalypse, Jasmine had sheltered many orphans and refugees at the Church of the Holy Ground. She provided food and medicine, encouraging them to maintain hope despite the apocalypse.
Jasmine was like a lighthouse in the end times, bringing warmth to countless people—including Natasha, who had nearly died.
Jasmine possessed a Supernatural ability called [Jehovah's Healing Touch]. Those touched by her hands had physical wounds healed and spiritual unrest calmed. With Jasmine, Natasha felt a long-forgotten warmth.
Jasmine was a true believer with a devout heart and saint-like goodness. Natasha needed her power—the most useful ability for commanding the ignorant masses during the apocalypse. So she exploited Jasmine's trusting nature, tricking her into using Frostheart, then killing her with a kitchen knife.
"Jasmine, you'll forgive me, won't you?" she whispered, covering her face with blood-stained hands, tears flowing through her fingers. Everything for divine will. Everything could be sacrificed.
Jasmine's death brought grief to many. But soon Natasha appeared, demonstrating identical abilities.
People quickly forgot Jasmine—they were too cold, too hungry to think beyond immediate needs. They promptly knelt at Natasha's feet. The Snowfall Cult was born in that moment.
Initially, Natasha refused to accept male followers. After what happened, she deeply rejected all men, believing them to be filthy beasts acting only on base instincts.
She couldn't bear to look at them, let alone be touched. Any male gaze reminded her of that seemingly endless night of agony.
But when Neil found her, everything changed. When Neil located Natasha, he looked as wretched as a homeless dog. Yet when he saw her, his eyes lit with joy like the brightest stars. "Natasha, I'm so relieved you're safe!"
Her response was only cold indifference. "Leave," she said icily. To uphold her convictions, she couldn't allow her heart to soften.
Neil asked in horror, "Why? Did I do something wrong? I know I failed you when we were separated. Please forgive me! Without you, my life has no meaning."
Natasha frowned. To drive away this man who threatened her resolve, she said, "I despise all men! You should stay far away from me—the farther, the better!"
Neil's heart nearly broke. He smiled bitterly. "In the past, when you were in Solstice and I was in Starlight City, separated by thousands of miles, I sent you messages daily. I felt you were right beside me. Now you stand before me, yet you feel as distant as the horizon."
How far is far enough? Once two hearts separate, even the closest proximity becomes an unbridgeable chasm.
Natasha didn't answer, simply walking away coldly.
The next day, Neil found her again. He was covered in blood, looking near death. But he smiled at Natasha. "You hate men, but I'm not one anymore. So I'll never hurt you."
"Can I stay by your side now?"
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