...The woman was a god.
Not a true god, of course. She was something much closer, and that was exactly what made her so dangerous.
Born as the daughter of a cult’s founder, she had been worshipped as a special being since childhood by those who adored her father.
The Next God... To those who obeyed her father’s creed and revered him as divine, she was as good as a goddess herself.
Consequently, the girl grew up twisted. It wasn't because she was spoiled, but because her upbringing had been so profoundly abnormal.
The truly problematic part, however, was that she was fully aware of her own depravity.
Her understanding that she had been raised with values utterly detached from the rest of the world would eventually pave the way for a grand tragedy.
Even as her mind warped, she never once thought it strange.
She had been born the Child of God and raised to fulfill that role. She came to believe it was only natural to be an existence far removed from the common rabble, who could only pretend to be divine by mimicking the expectations of others.
Thus, as she transitioned from girlhood to womanhood, she was perfected as both a god and a broken human being.
As she matured, she realized a fundamental truth: the Order her father had established was far more vast than she had ever imagined.
It wasn't merely large; it was an engine of evil that wielded authority and shadow in equal measure to its scale.
The worshippers who revered her and her father were obedient fanatics, willing to execute any command without question.
Her father deployed these followers to eliminate obstacles or commit crimes, strategically placing the powerful under his thumb.
Growing under this philosophy, the Order came to dominate the world with power that exceeded all expectations.
Though her father kept many concubines and sired many children, he chose her as his sole successor.
Perhaps he had sensed the sheer weight of her divine presence.
His intuition proved correct. Once appointed, she was worshipped by the Order and unleashed her full, terrifying potential.
She was more ruthless than her father in purging opposition. She accepted more favors from the powerful than he ever had, turning those secrets into leverage to secure even greater authority.
With a mere word, her followers would plunge into criminality or discard their lives without a second thought.
Throughout a life lived entirely outside the bounds of reason, she supposedly never lost her smile.
Like a holy mother, like a goddess—wearing a calm, merciful smile—she sowed seeds of death and disaster across the globe.
How was she capable of such things? Was it simply because her abnormal upbringing left her unable to grasp the cruelty of her actions?
No. She understood perfectly. She knew she was committing atrocities and slaughtering thousands, yet her calm smile remained.
At her command, lives were snuffed out. Without a shred of doubt, her fanatics committed evil and discarded their own existence, genuinely believing their crimes would earn them divine praise in the afterlife.
It was fun. It was exhilarating. It was exquisite. To her, humans were such foolish, entertaining playthings. She viewed her own life through a god’s-eye lens.
That was the talent that had marked her as the perfect successor.
She lacked a moral brake. Whether it was an act of pure evil or the taking of a life, she could see it through without a flicker of emotion on her face.
Her warped psyche—relishing her divine perspective while laughing in the depths of her quiet madness—was her ultimate weapon.
With its moral brakes severed, the Order grew more radical, staining history with one atrocity after another.
At the center of it all were the woman's commands. The number of lives she had snuffed out indirectly exceeded ten thousand.
Naturally, the Order could not remain hidden forever, and she was eventually captured.
Even then, her composure never faltered. A faint smile remained on her lips until the very moment of her execution.
In the wake of her death, her followers committed mass suicide to follow her into the void.
Exactly as she had commanded. To the very end, she was a human being who treated life as something to be discarded with total indifference.
She understood the depths of human folly. She knew the sheer joy found in the ruin of others.
And she knew, above all, that she was special.
She was a twisted creature, a self-made god. With a single word, she could make people offer up their lives like tribute.
That was why she called herself Dogma. Knowing that she was the absolute rule of this world, she forced cruel deaths upon fools once again.
Wasting the lives she had stolen with cold, calculating cruelty—