Vanitas sighed. Her body, once stiff with fear and shame, felt like it was melting into Kafka's embrace. Her arms tightened around him unconsciously as her face pressed against his chest, listening to that same heartbeat she had once sent a nun to share with him.
It was strong...steady...just like him.
She felt safe.
And it startled her.
Because she—Vanitas, the the Queen of the World, the being above all, the one feared by Gods and Kings alike, had never needed to feel safe.
Nothing could threaten her. Nothing could harm her. And yet...right now, curled up in her son's arms, with his warmth around her and his promise echoing in her ears...she felt it.
Safe.
Truly, deeply safe.
And loved.
"I..." She whispered softly, her voice barely audible. "I feel so lucky...to have a son like you."
She slowly looked up at him, her lips trembling into a fragile smile.
"A son who still won't give up on me even after all of this...even after what I said...even after what I feel..." Her smile grew a little sad. "It's more than I deserve."
Kafka's smile widened, eyes glowing with sincerity.
But then her smile faltered slightly, confusion creeping in. "But...Kafka..."
Her eyes searched his, uncertain. "What now? What do we do?"
He blinked as Vanitas continued, her voice hesitant.
"You say we'll get through this together, and I...I believe you. But how? This isn't just some misunderstanding or a problem we can talk through over dinner."
Her expression became more serious, almost afraid. "This is...deeper than that. This is something that shouldn't even exist. I shouldn't feel this way. You shouldn't have to deal with this. How do we fix something like this...?"
Kafka fell silent. Then, with a thoughtful hum, he said,
"Well...honestly...I don't really have a clear answer either." He scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "But...I guess we could try something normal. Like...I don't know, family therapy?"
Vanitas blinked in surprise.
"I mean it." Kafka said. "Real, actual therapy. People go through it all the time. Families break. People carry scars. They go to talk it out, to be vulnerable, to try and heal. Maybe we can do that too. Maybe if we put it all out in the open, talk to someone, try to sort through this...maybe one day...you'll be able to see me as your son again."
There was a flicker of hope in his eyes.
But before Vanitas could even process that fully—
"That won't work."
Evangeline's voice sliced through the moment like a cold blade and Kafka and Vanitas turned sharply toward her. She stood, arms crossed, eyes narrowed in her usual calm, though there was a weariness beneath it this time.
Evangeline exhaled as she said, "Therapy won't change it. Talking won't erase it...Nothing will."
Kafka frowned. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying..." Evangeline replied coolly. "...that no matter how many sessions you attend, no matter how much effort you put into 'healing,' it won't work. Because Lady Vanitas will never stop seeing you the way she does. She'll never be able to look at you only as a son again."
Her words echoed like thunder on the cloud they were on.
"You're saying that like it's...inevitable. Like it's written in stone." Kafka's eyes widened.
Evangeline's eyes locked onto his as she responded saying, "Because it is... Because no matter why you try, your fate with her will never change."
Vanitas froze beside him, breath caught.
Kafka stared at her. "Wait...what do you mean?"
"I should have mentioned it earlier..." Evangeline folded her arms tighter. "But there's actually a fifth aspect to your mother's situation."
Kafka nearly choked. "Fifth?!"
"Yes. The fifth and final aspect." Evangeline said evenly. "Her feelings...they are irreversible. No matter what you do."
Kafka stared in disbelief. "Wait, wait just a minute. You said there were four points. You were so confident earlier. You're always going on about being the God of Order! Order this, order that!"
He threw his hands up. "And now you're just pulling a fifth one out of nowhere?! What the hell Evangeline?!"
And hearing this, for the first time in perhaps all eternity—Evangeline blushed, almost as if she was embarrassed that she made such a mistake.
But then when she realised why exactly she made such a slip and who were the ones who were driving her crazy to the extent that even a god like her was making mistakes—
—she snapped unable to hold back her frustration anymore
Her lips thinned into a frustrated pout as she whispered, "S-Shut up, Kafka."
"W-What?..."
Both Kafka and Vanitas flinched, not expecting her hear her say something like that while. But Evangeline herself had enough of their bullshit and decided to go out.
"I said shut up, you two!" She shouted with all her heart. "Even I have limits, you know! I've been trying to keep you two from destroying yourselves and reality for hours now. One of you tried to throw yourself into oblivion, the other tried to kill his own mother—do you have any idea how difficult it is to stop two apocalyptic-grade disasters in a row?!"
Vanitas's eyes widened, while Evangeline stepped forward, face red with exasperation.
"I'm the God of Order, goddamit! I keep realms from collapsing, balance timelines, settle multiversal disputes—and yet you two are giving me the biggest headache of my entire immortal life!"
And with that, out of pure frustration and wanting to vent—she kicked Kafka on the leg.
"Ow?! What the hell—?!" Kafka yelped.
It wasn't strong, but the audacity was loud.
And Vanitas froze.
Her eyes turned cold. Lethal.
"Evangeline." She said dangerously. "Did you just strike my son?"
But to her surprise Evangeline wasn't scared and instead she whipped toward her, her expression fiery.
"Yes, I did, Lady Vanitas! And what if I did?! What are you gonna do about it?! Huh?! Obliterate me? Erase me from existence?! DO IT!"
Vanitas flinched.
"Go ahead!" Evangeline screamed. "At least then I won't have to deal with your soap-opera lives anymore! I've lived for eons, and never—NEVER—have I dealt with two bigger lunatics than you two! I swear, being deleted from extistence would be better than sitting through another second of this melodrama!"
She was panting now, her hair slightly tousled, her cheeks flushed red with rage, while Kafka and Vanitas just stared at her in dismay and disbelief that Evangeline of all people went on such a rampage.
And in silence...Evangeline stormed over to Vanitas's now-vacated throne, slumped into it, and summoned a bunch of orange juice cartons that she had grown fond of.
And then...she downed it.
Carton after carton, she guzzled the juice like a woman on the edge of a breakdown, until Kafka silently counted...fifteen.
Only then did Evangeline breathe.
The fury drained from her face. Her shoulders slumped. Her expression returned to its usual blank calm.
She then looked over at Kafka and Vanitas, who were still hugging each other in shock of what happened and to their surprise...bowed her head.
"I apologize." She said quietly. "My behavior was...inappropriate. I let my temper get the better of me. That was not the conduct expected of a person in my position. I was childish. I'm sorry."
But hearing this apology, Kafka flinched and waved his hands frantically like he couldn't bear to see her apologise.
"No, no, Evangeline! You're totally right! I'm the one who should be apologizing. I kept picking fights with you when you were the only one holding this whole thing together. You were doing you're absolute best to help us and I ended up blaming you for some dumb thing. I...I really am sorry, Evangeline."
Then he turned to Vanitas. "Mom. You too. Apologize."
Vanitas looked appalled.
"Apologize?" She repeated. "Kafka...do you know who I am? I am the incarnation of pride. I bow to no one. I apologize to no one. Except..."
She softened.
"...except to you."
Kafka smiled in response
And then—pinch!
"Ow! Kafka, what was that for?!" Vanitas yelped.
He narrowed his eyes as he said in a threatening manner, "Now is not the time to be prideful, Mom. Apologize to her. Now.
"...Say sorry. Or I'll make you get off my lap."
Her face went pale.
"No, no, please! Anything but that!" She grabbed his shirt like a panicked child. "Kafka, you can't, don't make me—"
"Then apologize."
She groaned dramatically, turning toward Evangeline.
"-I...I'm sorry. Alright? I apologize, Evangeline." She said in a rush. "I shouldn't have threatened you like that. You're the reason we're even here. You're the only one who ever tolerated my tantrums and listened to my endless rants. You...You've been patient and accepted my arrogant behaviour. So...thank you. And sorry."
Evangeline blinked in stunned silence, hearing this apology that she didn't expect, while Kafka just smiled and patted his mother's head.
"...I'm still not getting off your lap though, no matter what you say." Vanitas pouted.
"Didn't ask you to." Kafka murmured. "You're staying right there."
Evangeline stared at them for a long, unreadable moment.
Then...she smiled. A quiet, almost amused smile.
"To actually hear Lady Vanitas of all people apologizing to me...today really is a day full of surprises." She said with a light chuckle. "I've seen a lot in my time...but this? This might take the divine cake. If I told the gods about what happened today, they'd laugh me out of the heavens."
"Tch...don't get carried away." Vanitas huffed and looked away immediately, face slightly flushed. "It was only because my son asked me to. Nothing more. Don't go thinking too highly of yourself."
"Oh, of course." Evangeline smirked. "Only because your son said so. Not because you actually meant it or anything."
Her eyes sparkled with mischief, while Vanitas's glare was sharp enough to kill lesser gods, but Evangeline completely ignored it.
Instead, she turned toward Kafka. "But I did realize something else today."
Kafka raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
Evangeline nodded slowly, her expression now far more serious as she said, "I realized that you Kafka...you're actually the strongest existence in the universe."
He blinked, confused. "Huh? I don't even have any godly powers. I'm literally just a guy—"
She cut him off, gesturing toward Vanitas.
"Yes, you're just a 'guy.' A powerless demi-god who hasn't awakened his potential, technically. But she..." Evangeline pointed a thumb toward Vanitas. "...she is the strongest being in existence. And right now?...She's completely under your control."
"Evangeline..." Vanitas's glare intensified.
"You're basically her master now, Kafka." Evangeline continued shamelessly. "She listens to your every word. Does anything you ask. Just look at her, sitting on your lap like a puppy guarding her favorite pillow."
Kafka turned toward his mother and Vanitas stared straight ahead, silent, arms crossed...but didn't deny it.
"So what you're saying is..." Kafka grinned slowly. "...I control the strongest being in the universe?"
Evangeline grinned back. "Exactly."
Kafka leaned toward his mother with a teasing tone. "Is that true, Mom? You'd do anything I say?"
Vanitas's silence was thunderous. She didn't respond, but the way her shoulders tensed, and her refusal to meet his eyes, said more than words ever could.
Kafka laughed. "Well damn. I like the sound of 'Ruler of the Universe.' Has a nice ring to it."
Evangeline then stepped forward, her smile suddenly turning mischievous.
"In that case..." She said. "...even if I do something that would normally get me obliterated by Lady Vanitas...she won't be able to lift a finger against me, will she? Because she won't go against your wishes."
She tilted her head, then gave Vanitas a smug look, one that absolutely reeked of playful challenge.
And without another word, she strode over to Kafka.
Before either of them could react—she sat herself right on his lap, mirroring Vanitas's position, and leaned comfortably into his embrace, her expression triumphant.
Vanitas's eyes went wide with fury.
Her lips parted as she sucked in a breath, clearly about to unleash a storm of righteous indignation,
But Evangeline was faster.
She casually raised a finger and pressed it right against Vanitas's lips.
"Shh." She whispered sweetly. "You don't want to say anything that might upset your son, do you?"
Vanitas's eyes blazed.
"Your own son has no problem with me sitting here." Evangeline went on, pretending to be deep in thought. "So...who are you to tell me I shouldn't?"
She turned her head slightly and looked up at Kafka with a cheeky grin. "You don't mind, right? That I sit on your lap like this? That I snuggle into your warmth?"
Kafka gave a casual shrug and smiled back. "Not at all. My lap is always open to beautiful women."
Vanitas looked like she was about to explode.
Her fingers twitched. Her teeth clenched. Her eyes screamed murder.
But she said nothing.
She just pouted, crossing her arms and sulking like a child who had her favorite toy stolen.
Evangeline couldn't help but laugh and say, "You know...for the longest time, I was always a little scared of you, Lady Vanitas."
Vanitas turned toward her with a scowl.
"You were the only person I was ever close to in the heavens. But even then, there was always a line I couldn't cross. You were stronger, fiercer, untouchable. At any moment, if you wanted to...you could have crushed me."
She leaned back further into Kafka, sighing in contentment.
"But now? Now I feel liberated. I can speak my mind. I can tease you. I can sit on your son's lap. And you can't do anything."
She looked up at Kafka again, her smile softer this time. "You really are a miracle."
Kafka looked genuinely confused. "Huh?"
Evangeline nodded. "Just like you changed her...you're changing me too."
She gestured toward Vanitas, saying, "Your birth made her feel. It made her human. Made her vulnerable. Made her real. She learned what it meant to laugh, to cry, to love. And now...so am I."
"And I'm supposed to be emotionless." She chuckled. "Cold. The God of Order. But look at me now." Her voice grew quieter. "I think this is the most I've smiled in my entire life."
There was a pause, and then she added softly,
"There's this...feeling. I don't know what to call it. Maybe it's the joy of taunting Vanitas. Or maybe...it's something more."
She looked back up at Kafka. "But you're the one who made me feel it. So thank you."
Kafka, a little overwhelmed, gave her a sheepish smile. "Not a problem. Not at all. After all the help you've given me...this is nothing."
Then he let out a breath. "But still..."
He looked back at her, more serious now.
"I'd really like to know...about that fifth aspect. What is it exactly? Why is it that my mother can't go back to being...well, normal? Why is that we can't do anything about the problem of her, well...wanting to sleep with her own?"
He glanced at Vanitas, who turned even redder but said nothing, before he looked back at Evangeline.
"...What happened to make her that way?"