"They forced me to become a god, but they didn't know that I was already dead."
Before falling asleep, I carved a tombstone for myself with my own hands and forged miracles and legends.
When I woke up three thousand years later, believers were kneeling all over the mountains and fields, and the Pope was holding my diary with tears in his eyes.
"According to your holy book," he kissed my rotten fingertips devoutly, "the seventh page states, 'On the third day after the resurrection, the temple shall be washed with the blood of the blasphemer.'"
I looked down at the yellowed diary——
That line of writing was clearly made up by me before I fell asleep.
