At six in the morning, Gospel time, in the Senheiser Family District of the second-layered city of Vanmura. 

Iger opened his eyes inside a wardrobe. He pushed the door open and stepped out. On the bed lay a bulging, human-shaped figure. It was an "Iger" he had meticulously crafted from pillows, blankets, clothes, and a touch of imagination. It was neither a spirit nor a Miracle, but this simple trick had saved his life more times than he could count. 

If he left a note on the bed reading "Good evening," it would convince any late-night intruder that the fraudster had foreseen their arrival and vanished through some secret passage. Cursing their luck, they would rush off to track his supposed escape route, while the real Iger, hidden inches away, seized the chance to slip away.

After all, Iger was only a fraudster, not an omniscient deity. He couldn't actually foresee every danger. Still, that did not stop him from presenting himself as a man who never miscalculated. With a little extra caution and a few tactical precautions, he could plant a seed of doubt in the minds of others.

What truly turned a lie into reality was not the fraudster's words, but the victim's own imagination.

Humans had an instinctive need to interpret the world. When information was lacking, they unconsciously filled the gaps with their own projections. That was why conspiracy theories thrived and why rumors outpaced the truth. People always believed what they wanted to believe.

The world might be objective, but perception was entirely personal. In the past, Mind Class sorcerers had even established religions, becoming "gods" within...