The World of this Fantasy Novel is in Crisis

I trusted my sister, and that included trusting her taste.

My sister died.

She was always altruistic, the kind of person who genuinely enjoyed helping others. That nature had cost her a lot throughout her life, and even in death, it hadn’t changed. She used to proudly say she’d never jaywalked in her life. But in the end, she died saving a child who’d run out onto the street, struck by a truck on the spot.

I’d been close with my sister, so the grief hit me hard. And of course, it did—our family was… No, no, never mind the details. This isn’t the time for some sob story. I mean, there’s an angel right in front of me—this is no time to be lost in thought.

Luckily, the angel didn’t seem to notice my mind wandering. At least, I didn’t think they noticed.

—Your sister accumulated great virtue and ascended to a higher dimension.

“…Okay?”

—She left behind residual virtue, which has been inherited by you. Rejoice.

“Inherited? You can inherit virtue?”

—Indeed. You likely can’t even begin to comprehend how much virtue it takes to ascend to a higher dimension. That she had enough left over to pass down—it’s something that may only happen once in a thousand years.

I didn’t really know what this “higher dimension” was, but… damn, my sister really was amazing.

I stood there, dumbstruck with admiration, when the angel flapped its wings and started speaking again—though I hadn’t asked anything.

—It appears your own virtue is pitifully low.

“Yeah…”

Unlike my sister, I was just a regular person. No way I’d racked up much virtue. More like karma, if anything.

—Do not worry. With the virtue you’ve inherited, a complete reversal of your life is now possible.

Now that I think about it, isn’t this angel’s speech kind of weird? Not that I’m entirely convinced it is an angel. It just looks like some bizarre clump of feathers to me. A featherball with a head…

Honestly, it looks terrifying. When it first appeared, the first thing it said was, Do not be afraid. Yeah, that totally helped.

Still, when I look at it, I do feel something holy. So maybe it really is an angel…?

Again, the wings fluttered.

—Speak your wish.

“Anything I want?”

—Almost anything.

“Then… bring my sister back to life.”

—That is not possible.

“Even if I die in her place?”

—It is not that simple. You wouldn’t understand, but ascending to a higher dimension is a tremendous honor. To resurrect someone who has already ascended, dragging them back down to a lower dimension—that would be punishment. Would you wish punishment upon someone who earned their virtue?

“Well… no, I guess not…”

If she didn’t go unwillingly, then it wouldn’t be right for me to just pull her back.

“Then… I just want to see her one last time.”

—That, too, is impossible. Beings from higher dimensions cannot descend lightly to the lower ones. From your sister’s perspective, it would be a significant loss. Surely that is not what you truly wish for.

So much for “turning my life around”—nothing I actually want is possible.

“Then never mind. I don’t really plan to live that long anyway, and I’ve never seriously thought about reversing my life or whatever…”

No sooner had I finished speaking than the featherball started twitching. Its expression didn’t change, but the way its feathers moved was so unnatural it sent chills down my spine.

—Are you saying… you wish for nothing?

“I mean, I haven’t really thought about it.”

—Think carefully. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. With this virtue, you could—

“Ah.”

—What is your desire?

Something suddenly came to mind, but it was so ridiculous I felt embarrassed just thinking about it. I waved it off quickly. “It’s nothing, never mind.”

The featherball jerked and writhed.

—Speak it, at least.

“It’s just… too absurd. Seriously, don’t worry about it.”

—Speak.

“You’re not supposed to laugh.”

As soon as I said it, I realized it was a mistake. This thing hadn’t changed expression even once since earlier—maybe it didn’t even know how to laugh.

Thankfully, the featherball didn’t take offense. It simply pressed on without rebuke.

—Speak.

“W-Well, there’s this novel my sister used to write…”

—Go on.

“Never mind. This is too ridiculous.”

—Speak, now!

The featherball trembled violently. Its expression gave no hint of emotion, but somehow, it felt angry. It was so terrifying that I gave in and just blurted it out.

“I want to go into that novel.”

The featherball fell silent.

Was it thinking it over? Up until now, it had answered immediately. Why the hesitation this time? Could it be because this one wasn’t impossible?

It’s bizarre, really. Meeting my sister one last time is a no-go, but entering the world of her novel might actually be doable?

Eventually, the featherball spoke.

—…Are you familiar with the contents of that novel?

“No.”

I asked her to let me read it once, but she always refused. Still, I wasn’t too worried. My sister had accumulated enough virtue to pass it down to her sibling—surely, the novel she wrote must be filled with beauty and hope.

“I want to live as the character she cherished the most in that story.”

I’ve only lived about twenty years, but that’s long enough to get a sense of how the world works. Most people aren’t like my sister. They’re not even lukewarm, much less warmhearted.

No matter how great a gift you receive in this cold world, the joy won’t last. Whether it’s money, fame, beauty, or power—it’s all fleeting.

But a fabricated world is different. In a story shaped by my sister’s imagination and dreams… maybe I could actually be happy. No hardships, no struggles—just a world where the only sorrow would be not seeing her again.

“Is it impossible?”

—It is possible.

“Wait, really? How?”

I mean, I did ask for it, but… how can that actually be possible?

—Beings of the lower dimension, like you, can only plant seeds through imagination. But beings of higher dimensions… can make those seeds bloom into full flowers.

“Huh?”

—When your sister ascended to the higher dimension, the world she once imagined as a being of the lower dimension was fully realized.

“Whoa, that’s incredible.”

Images from sci-fi movies flashed through my mind—creating a world just by imagining it? If this was real, it was beyond amazing. My sister had become something truly incredible.

As I was lost in admiration, the featherball asked again.

—Do you truly wish to enter that world? Know this: no matter how much virtue you accumulate there, you will never be able to ascend to the dimension where your sister now resides. The world she created is, relatively speaking, the lowest dimension—far below even the one you currently inhabit.

The featherball spoke as if this were some grave warning, but it didn’t really register as a big deal to me. After thinking it over for a moment, I asked,

“If I stay here and accumulate virtue, is there a chance I could ascend to the same dimension as my sister?”

—It’s not impossible.

“Be specific.”

—Based on the life you’ve lived so far, the probability is approximately 0.000000000……

“Yeah, okay. That’s enough. You can stop talking now.”

The featherball gave a faint shudder.

—Beings of the lower dimension are truly difficult to understand.

“So, when’s the wish going to be granted?”

—Close your eyes.