"I should be returning to the divine realm now," Sunny's projected voice said, the cosmic energy that formed his image beginning to shimmer, preparing to dissolve. But before he could vanish, a hesitant voice called out, filled with a desperate, fragile hope.
"God Cosmos... could I ask for another favor?" Medusa stood before him, her earlier confidence replaced by the vulnerability of a supplicant.
Sunny's projection stabilized. He chuckled internally; Thea's analysis had already predicted this very request. "Go on," he said, his tone patient. "I do not know when we will meet again. It is better to listen to your favors while I can."
Medusa's face, a mask of resolve, lit up. She turned and ran back towards the deep darkness of her cave. She returned moments later, her immense strength straining as she carried a colossal, three-headed serpent made of cold, lifeless stone.
The statue was a monument to a brutal battle. One head was completely severed at the neck. The remaining two were scarred and broken, each with only a single, terrified eye remaining, the other socket a gaping scar.
"God Cosmos, this is my friend, Hessia," Medusa whispered, her voice cracking as she gently caressed the stone scales. Tears streamed down her face, and the living snakes in her hair seemed to weep with her, their hissing turning into soft, sorrowful sounds.
"She was with me since my birth," Medusa explained, her story a torrent of grief held back for three hundred thousand years. "due to our matching strength she was immune to my curse, so she was the only one who could stay by my side. She was my only friend. But on that fateful day, when I was on the verge of my own breakthrough to the demigod realm, we were attacked by an S-Grade beast. Hessia... she protected me. She gave up her own chance to ascend, holding the beast back while my power surged."
She hugged the cold stone, the memory as fresh as if it were yesterday. "But my breakthrough... my talent... it became too strong. While she was protecting me, my uncontrollable aura washed over her. She turned to stone, just as you see her now." Her voice broke.
"Can you... please, can you save her?" she pleaded, her hesitation born from the three hundred thousand years of hopelessness she had endured. She didn't even know if a soul still resided within the stone.
"Why should I?"
Sunny's voice was as cold and distant as a faraway star. The words hit Medusa like a physical blow, shattering the fragile hope in her heart. She looked up at him, her eyes pleading, a demigod reduced to a heartbroken child.
"You should be responsible for the things you do," Sunny continued, his tone absolute. "Even if they were not in your control." He let the hard lesson sink in, a test of her resolve.
Then, his voice shifted, the cold authority melting away, replaced by a power that seemed to command the heavens themselves.
"But what is the point of living if you cannot change your past mistakes?" he declared, his voice no longer a question, but a divine decree. "From this moment on, let the talent of the Gorgon race be rewritten! Let them have the power to revert the petrification they cause!"
This time, the universe didn't shake. It sang. A soft, harmonious chord resonated through reality as a single, cruel rule was gently erased from the cosmic rulebook, and a new one, one of mercy, was written in its place.
The act cost Sunny a staggering five hundred billion faith points. 'Divine Command is far too costly,' he thought with an internal sigh.
He looked at Medusa, who was glowing with a new, ethereal light. "Correct your mistakes," he said. "I must get going. I have a few billion worlds to take care of." And with a magical whoosh, his projection vanished, leaving behind a demigod with a new gift and a mortal king in absolute awe.
Medusa turned to the statue of Hessia, her hands trembling. She focused her will, her new, altered talent flowing from her.
The stone began to crack, not with the sound of breaking, but with the gentle whisper of life returning.
Flesh and blood began to reform from the inside out, a miracle of divine mercy. A deep, ancient hiss echoed from within the stone, the first sound Hessia had made in three hundred thousand years.
"I have a healing pill here," Ragnok said, stepping forward and offering a shimmering, SS-Grade pill. "Perhaps it can even grow back her head."
Medusa accepted the gift without hesitation. She gently placed the pill in Hessia's slowly reforming mouth. A wave of powerful vitality surged through the serpent's body, her scales regaining their luster, her muscles coiling with newfound strength.
She hissed in joy, a sound of pure, unadulterated life. But her missing head and eyes did not return.
"I think... after so long, her body accepted its wounded state as its new, perfect form," Medusa reasoned, a hint of sadness in her voice.
"Yes, three hundred thousand years is a long time," Ragnok agreed with a solemn nod.
Medusa looked from her recovering friend to the half-orc king who had made all of this possible.
She thought for a moment, and then, a demigod, a queen of her own ancient race, bowed deeply before a mortal. "My King," she declared, her voice ringing with absolute conviction, "I and my entire race will be under your care from now on."
"No, no, Medusa, you are a demigod!" Ragnok protested, taking a step back. "I am just a mortal. How can you serve under me? You should create your own kingdom."
"It is my choice to make," Medusa chuckled, a newfound lightness in her voice. "Did you not hear what God Cosmos said? He instructed me to join a kingdom, and I choose yours."
"If it is the wish of the God, then... you can join," Ragnok finally conceded, his mind reeling. And in that moment, as he accepted the fealty of a being far more powerful than himself, something inside him snapped.
His Comprehension talent ignited. He finally understood.
A king was not the strongest person in the kingdom. A king was a vessel, a focal point for the collective strength and loyalty of his people. By accepting the pledge of a demigod, his own mortal vessel had reached its breaking point. It was time to ascend.
Light exploded from Ragnok's form. The air crackled with raw power. His physical body, the half-orc shell that had carried him through a life of slavery and struggle, began to crack like sun-baked earth.
The cracks widened, revealing not blood, but pure, golden energy. Then, his mortal form shattered, dissolving into a maelstrom of light and power, a supernova of potential.
From the heart of the storm, a new form began to emerge, larger, stronger, and radiating an unmistakable divine aura.
His mortal lifespan was burning away, replaced by the aura of immortality. He was not just breaking through; he was being reborn.
Master, your judgment was correct.]
"What happened?" Sunny asked, his focus snapping away from the exhilarating, ever-climbing number of his faith reserves.
[Master, Ragnok has broken through. He has ascended to the demigod realm. His breakthrough was tied to a concept he is calling the 'Law of the King'.]
"The Law of the King?" Sunny leaned forward, a current of genuine curiosity flowing through him. "Did he gain any new talents?"
[Yes, Master. A new innate talent with the potential to harm even a God, similar in concept to Sister Nova's Charged Explosion.]
"Show me," Sunny commanded. 'Maybe I will copy this talent next time,' he thought, his gaze fixed on the description that materialized before him.
[Talent Name: King's Authority]
[Grade: SS]
[Description: You can draw upon and wield the powers of any being under your rule, provided they have absolute loyalty in you. With a deeper understanding of the Law of the King, you can wield multiple powers simultaneously.]
"That's... a truly awesome talent," Sunny breathed. The restrictions were immense, requiring absolute loyalty, but the potential was boundless.
This wasn't just a talent for fighting; it was the very definition of kingship; a power that grew not from one's own strength, but from the collective will and loyalty of those who followed. His next choice for Skill-Resonance was decided.
"Give him full access to the demigod System Shop and the merits system," Sunny ordered. "But let him keep his lottery system as well. It has served him, and us, well."
With his champion's ascension secured, Sunny turned his attention to his own operation. With a casual thought that would have bankrupted a lesser god for a thousand lifetimes, he spent ten trillion faith points and brought his twelfth clone into existence.
The new being, a perfect copy of himself, bowed silently and was immediately tasked with the most crucial long-term project: the comprehension of the Law of Manifestation.
Just as he settled back, another notification from Thea arrived.
[Master, Light Celestine is about to finish his teaching journey in Veridia. Should I open the portals for him to begin his work in the worlds of the other Gods?]
"Oh? Light," Sunny murmured. He focused his divine senses, his consciousness drifting down to Veridia, to a small, forgotten corner at the very edge of a continent, a place time had seemingly left behind.
The village was nestled in a valley carved by a wide river, a place of wood, stone, and quiet strength.
Its buildings were sturdy huts made of dark, moss-covered timber and reinforced with smooth river rocks, smoke curling lazily from their thatched roofs.
In the center of the village stood a great long house, its entrance flanked by the skulls of massive, tusked beasts defeated by generations of hunters.
The air smelled of woodsmoke, damp earth, and roasting meat. This was a place of simple traditions and a deep, unshakable connection to the wild.
In a muddy pen near the village edge, a group of orc children were playing. Their laughter was a series of joyous grunts and squeals as they chased after a young, tusked boar-pup, a creature that looked like a furry, four-legged battering ram.
These boars were the village's most prized companions; used for hauling lumber from the forest, guarding their homes, and, for the children, a source of endless, rough-and-tumble fun.
Watching over them was the village head, Tether. He was a mountain of an orc, his broad shoulders and powerful arms covered in faded tattoos of clan symbols.
But despite his intimidating size, his eyes were kind, and his movements were deliberate and gentle as he sharpened a hunting spear.
He was the village's anchor, a leader whose strength was matched by his wisdom.
His daughter, a cute little girl named Tiya, suddenly burst from their hut, her eyes wide. "Father! There's a human outside the village! He said he wanted to talk to the village head!"
Tether's brow furrowed in curiosity, not alarm. "Oh, really? Perhaps he is lost. I will go and help him." He set his spear aside and walked towards the village entrance. He immediately saw it; a small, elegant wooden house that hadn't been there that morning, standing in a clearing as if it had grown from the earth itself. He knew it belonged to the newcomer and walked towards it.
He raised a heavy fist to knock, but before his knuckles could touch the wood, the door swung open on its own. Inside, a handsome half-elf with a serene smile stood holding a tray with two steaming teacups.
"Welcome to my humble abode, Village Head," Light said, placing the tray on a small table.
"Hello, young friend," Tether replied, his gaze warm and polite. In the unified and safe culture of Veridia, a stranger was not a threat, but a potential friend.
"Hello, Village Head," Light returned the greeting, getting straight to the point with the confidence he'd gained over eighty years. "I am a wandering teacher. I travel to the villages of Veridia that are disconnected from the great cities, helping them find their path."
He explained his mission: to check the talents of the youth and offer them the guidance needed to grow.
Tether's kind eyes widened, a flicker of profound hope igniting within them. "Can you... can you really check the talents of our people?"
Thea's system had connected their village to the wider world, but the ability to see one's own status was a feature Sunny had deliberately withheld, a quiet act of grace to ensure that Light's journey would be meaningful.
For this isolated village, a teacher like Light was a miracle.
"Yes, I can," Light said. He reached into his bag and pulled out a smooth, glowing blue orb.
"A talent appraising ball?" Tether's jaw dropped, his broad orcish mouth forming a perfect 'O'. This was a mythical object, a treasure he had only ever seen on the system's news feeds.
He turned and bellowed, his voice echoing through the quiet village with a joy it hadn't known in generations. "Everyone! Come to the square! A blessing has arrived!"
That day, the village of the quiet orcs became a festival of joyous noise. The largest boars were roasted over a massive bonfire.
The sounds of children's laughter mixed with the astonished gasps of their parents. Children who had only ever expected a life of hunting and gathering suddenly saw paths to becoming mages, blacksmiths, or alchemists laid out before them.
Elders, who had long resigned themselves to their village's isolation, wept openly, their tears carving paths through the dust on their weathered faces.
In the center of it all, Light sat with the children, the blue ball glowing in his hands, a quiet, satisfied smile on his face as he unlocked the potential of a generation, his eighty-year journey in Veridia will finally be complete in a month.
The village of the quiet orcs was no longer quiet. The air, usually thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, was now a joyous mix of roasting meat, woodsmoke, and the excited grunts of hundreds of orcs.
It was a festival born of pure, unexpected hope. In the center of it all, Light sat with the children, the talent appraising ball glowing in his hands like a captured star.
He had already identified a few interesting talents: a boy who could make plants grow slightly faster, a girl with an uncanny sense of direction. But now, he focused on a young orc whose ball had displayed the words [Healing Air].
"This talent of yours is meant for healing," Light explained, his voice calm and encouraging. "As the name suggests, you can infuse the very air with your life force. Try it. Close your eyes, and imagine your own energy, your mana, flowing out and becoming one with the air you breathe."
The boy, a stocky child with earnest eyes, tried to concentrate on what Light had just instructed. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a soft, green light began to emanate from his hands.
It wasn't a solid spell, but a shimmering mist of glowing green particles that floated gently into the air. The particles drifted towards the crowd of watching villagers and, as if guided by an unseen intelligence, settled upon those who were old, ill, or injured.
An old warrior, his back bent from a century of battles, suddenly straightened up with a loud crack, a look of utter disbelief on his weathered face as a pain he had lived with for fifty years simply... vanished.
A mother nursing a sick child watched in awe as the feverish flush on her infant's cheeks began to fade. The healing was weak, a temporary relief, but it was a miracle nonetheless.
"See?" Light said, patting the little orc's shoulder. At his touch, the boy's eyes snapped open, and he saw the looks of gratitude and wonder on the faces of his kin.
A huge, never-ending smile stretched across his face. He had a gift. He was special.
"You just need to practice," Light joked, his voice full of warmth. "Once you reach the S-Grade, or even become a demigod, you'll be known far and wide. Don't forget your old teacher at that time, okay?" He winked and moved to the next child.
"Walkthrough," Light read from the ball. "A vague name, but a wonderful ability." He walked to a nearby tree, and with a perfect, controlled pulse of mana, sliced a thick, solid piece of bark from its trunk. He returned and placed it upright on the ground.
"Now," he said to the child, a small, nervous-looking orc. "Close your eyes. Imagine your body isn't solid. Imagine it's like the wind, like a ghost. And then, just walk straight."
The little fellow did as he was told, his small hands clenched in concentration. He took a hesitant step, then another, walking directly towards the slab of wood. The villagers held their breath, expecting a comical collision.
But a miracle happened. As the child's foot touched the bark, it didn't stop. It passed right through. His whole body followed, phasing through the solid wood as if it were nothing more than a curtain of smoke. He emerged on the other side completely unharmed.
A collective gasp swept through the crowd, a sound like the wind being knocked out of a hundred powerful lungs at once.
In their world of solid, unyielding reality, they had just witnessed the impossible. They erupted in thunderous applause.
The child, startled by the noise, opened his eyes. "What? What did I do?" he asked, looking at the happy faces around him. His father rushed forward, sweeping him up into the air.
"You have an amazing talent, son!" the father boomed with pride, explaining what had just happened.
The excited child immediately tried to do it again, running full-speed at the bark, and collided with it head-on with a loud thump.
Light laughed. "Ah, I forgot to tell you. You need to maintain your focus until you truly master it. And beware of the mana consumption. In the future, you might even be able to walk through walls."
He left the boy to practice and moved to the next child, a quiet orc who was nervously trying to hide his glowing ball. Light gently took it and read the words. "Dark Magic Affinity." He looked at the child, who refused to meet his gaze, his shoulders slumped in shame.
"Are you sad because this talent sounds evil?" Light asked gently. The little orc nodded rapidly.
Curses and necromancy were things of nightmares, stories told to scare naughty children.
Light looked down, so his eyes were level with the child's. "Listen to me," he said, his voice soft but firm. "Is a river evil because it can flood? Is fire evil because it can burn? No. Power is just power. It is the hand that wields it that chooses its purpose. You can use this to curse your enemies, or you can use it to break the curses of others. The choice, little one, will always be yours."
The child looked up, a spark of understanding in his eyes. He tentatively held out his hand, and a small, swirling ball of black mana, shot through with veins of cool violet light, appeared in his palm.
It wasn't scary. It was actually... kind of cool.
Light's ability to guide them so swiftly was a gift in itself. It was the S-Grade "Learning Teacher" blessing from Isiah, which amplified his teaching effectiveness a hundredfold, allowing him to turn complex concepts into simple, intuitive lessons.
As he finished with the last child, a familiar, high-pitched voice called out. "Teacher! Teacher!" It was Tiya, the chief's daughter, running towards him, her cute dress and big orc eyes a combination that could melt a heart of stone. "Check my talent, too! Check my talent, too!"
"Yes, yes, of course," Light laughed, holding out the talent appraising ball.
Tiya placed her tiny, chubby hands on the orb. For a second, nothing happened. Then, the ball glowed.
But it was not the steady, gentle blue of before. It was a deep, hungry violet, a color that seemed to absorb the light around it.
Light's smile froze on his face. The name of the talent pulsed with a quiet, terrifying potential.
[Emotion Eater (A-Grade)]
"Divine Library," Light's thought was a sharp, urgent command, "give me every detail you have on a talent named 'Emotion Eater'."
Instantly, his mind was flooded with knowledge. It wasn't just a dry description; it was a series of visions.
He saw the immense potential for good: a mind consumed by grief being brought back to peace, a warrior's uncontrollable rage being siphoned away before a fatal mistake.
But he also saw the horrifying flip side: a victim, their joy and sorrow completely devoured, left as a walking, breathing husk with nothing behind the eyes.
"My worries were right," he thought, a cold knot tightening in his stomach. "This is a double-edged sword. A sword that can heal or kill with equal ease."
He looked at Tiya, the small orc girl who was staring up at him with wide, innocent eyes, completely unaware of the monstrous power sleeping within her.
"Tiya," he said gently, "you possess a talent that can help you grow strong very quickly. But it can also consume you if you do not learn to use it well."
"What does that mean?" she asked, blinking her large, curious eyes. The entire village was now watching them, a silent, expectant crowd.
Light gave a meaningful look to her father, the village chief.
Tether immediately understood. "Teacher Light, you have traveled for so long and worked so hard for us today," he boomed, his voice a warm and steady presence. "You must be tired. Please, come and rest in my home."
Light nodded gratefully and followed the chief towards the largest house in the village. Tiya trotted alongside him, her small hand tugging at his robe. "Teacher, what did you mean?" she asked again, her curiosity unquenched.
"I will tell you when we reach your home," Light promised.
Inside the guest room, Light sat across from the massive orc chief, with Tiya perched on another chair between them.
"Village Chief," Light began, his tone serious, "Tiya's talent, Emotion Eater, allows her to devour the emotions of others. She could make someone completely emotionless, or she could eat a specific feeling, like anger or sadness." He paused, letting the weight of his next words sink in.
"If she eats too much, the person whose emotions are taken can become mentally unstable, their very soul fractured."
Tether pulled his daughter close, his massive arm a protective shield. "What can we do?" he rumbled, his voice thick with a father's primal fear.
"Do not only look at the downside," Light reassured him, his voice calm and steady. "As I said, power is a tool. She can use it to cure those who are emotionally unstable by eating away their excess feelings. And she can use it to become strong very, very quickly. It is a double-edged sword, capable of harming both the user and their opponent."
He looked at the worried father and then at the confused child. "Don't worry. For this, I will stay. I will personally teach her how to use her power with control and wisdom."
After some more conversation, Light returned to his own small, magical house, his mind already formulating a new lesson plan.
For the next month, he became Tiya's personal mentor, while also guiding the other children. He taught her not to devour, but to taste.
He taught her empathy, how to feel the emotions of others without being consumed by them, and how to use her power to bring balance, not emptiness.
When his work was finally done, he stood at the edge of the village, said his farewells, and mounted his magnificent companion, Lily.
"Sigh... Lily, where should we go now?" he said, his voice laced with a strange melancholy as they soared into the sky. His eighty-year journey across Veridia was over.
"Master, why don't we go to the other worlds you spoke of?" Lily's voice chirped in his mind, a melodic sound that was a testament to the Divine Comprehension buff that now graced every living thing.
"We don't have permission for that," Light sighed, lying back against her warm feathers. "Demigod Isiah said that only when I break through to the demigod realm can I travel to the other worlds."
"So then just break through," Lily replied with the simple, carefree logic of a magical bird.
"Easy for you to say," Light laughed, though there was no humor in it. "You just need to eat powerful things to get stronger. I have to comprehend a Law. But which Law? That is the real question."
From his throne, Sunny watched this scene and knocked his head with his palm. "Eighty years of teaching others, and he can't teach himself what to do next," he groaned. "The boy has all the comprehension in the world, and he's still stupid."
"Thea," he commanded, "give him a nudge. Plant some hints in the Divine Library, something that will guide him to his path. The Law of Learning, or Teaching, perhaps. He needs to find his own way, but a little push won't hurt." He sighed again. His champions were powerful, but they required so much management.
He looked away from Veridia, his gaze shifting to his other grand project: Earth. Eight thousand years had passed there.
Its technology had surpassed even that of his lost home, Endor by many times. Gleaming spires pierced the clouds, and silent vehicles crisscrossed the skies.
But the people... they were lost in a different way. Many were immersed in full-dive virtual reality, escaping a perfect but boring reality to play games of their own making.
"I suppose it's time to harvest," Sunny mused. He began to peer into the lives of the billions of humans on his talent farm.
"Not you... not you either..." he murmured, rejecting the choices Thea's algorithms presented. He was looking for something specific.
He saw a brilliant but underfunded engineer sketching designs for a new form of clean energy.
He saw a charismatic but powerless community leader, trying to rally her neighbors against a corrupt corporation.
He saw a doctor with a revolutionary, life-saving idea but no one to listen.
He was looking for souls with immense, untapped potential, seeds that just needed the right soil to grow.
A slow, wicked grin spread across his face as a new, grand idea took hold. Why just strengthen his empire when he could be entertained by it?
He would reincarnate these chosen souls, not into Veridia, but into the worlds of his subordinate Gods. He would give them a system, a second chance at a life of adventure and power.
And in return he would broadcast their entire lives, their struggles, their triumphs, apart from some private things offcourse, to the billions of Gods in his Pantheon.
He would create the greatest show in the multiverse. A live-action novel. A real-life anime. And the Gods, bored by not having anything to do, would pay handsomely to watch this show.
"Haha, I will take good care of you. So, what's your name, Windy?" Sparrow's voice was laced with the casual arrogance of a victor speaking to his prize.
He looked at the wind spirit demigod, who stood with his head bowed, his form flickering with shame.
Being sold out by his own God was a humiliation he would carry for a thousand years. But his loyalty was absolute. He would follow his master's order.
"My name is Windy, indeed," the demigod replied, his voice a low, defeated murmur.
Sparrow burst out laughing, a sharp, mocking sound that echoed in the misty clearing. Windy gave him a sharp side-glance, his form swirling with annoyance, and turned away.
"Alright, alright, I won't laugh at your name anymore," Sparrow said, his laughter finally subsiding. He turned his attention to the real prize.
He stepped forward and plucked the True Beauty Pill from its stone pedestal. The moment his fingers touched it, an intoxicating wave of pure, perfect energy flowed into him. He held it in his palm, a universe of potential. He immediately struck a defensive stance, his senses on high alert, waiting for the trap to spring.
Windy, ever the loyal soldier, did the same. A powerful gust of wind erupted from him, clearing the surrounding trees in a perfect circle, creating an open battlefield with no place for an enemy to hide.
They waited. One second. Ten. A full minute stretched into an unnerving silence. Nothing happened.
"I was certain there was no demon here," Windy said, relaxing his stance slightly. He trusted his senses, and they had told him the area was clear.
"Yes, I was sure, too," Sparrow lied, his own heart finally slowing its frantic beat. They turned and began their journey back towards the shimmering purple portal that led to Kitsune's world.
But as they flew, in a dimension they could not perceive, an invisible demon chuckled, a low, guttural sound like grinding stone and tearing flesh. He licked his lips. "Two prey at once, ain't i lucky?" the voice whispered.
In the next instant, he was there. Sparrow and Windy, flying at full speed, didn't see a figure or a wall. They simply hit... something. It was like crashing into a mountain that had appeared out of nowhere.
The impact sent them hurtling backward, their divine forms tumbling through the air. As they righted themselves, the invisibility spell of the demon broke, and they saw what they had hit.
Their hearts froze. It was a creature of pure nightmare. It was vaguely humanoid, but its form was a shifting mass of condensed shadow, with too many limbs and a dozen slowly blinking, crimson eyes that held no malice, only a cold, predatory hunger.
Horror washed over them. Windy reacted first. He unleashed a gale of razor-sharp wind, weaving it together with a torrent of blinding light magic from Sparrow.
Together, they created a swirling prison of elemental fury, a cage of wind and light that enveloped the colossal demon.
Upon seeing their spell connect, they didn't wait to see the result. They turned and fled, a silent, shared understanding between them: run.
But the demon just smirked, a gesture that was terrifying on its shifting, shadowy face. It was a look of pure, condescending amusement. He opened a mouth that was not a mouth, but a tear in reality, a black hole of pure oblivion, and inhaled.
Their combined spell, a technique that could have leveled a small city, was simply sucked in and devoured.
"Run like a prey," the demon's voice echoed in their minds, a chilling, terrifying promise, "and I will catch you like a hunter."
He vanished, turning invisible once more.
Sparrow and Windy felt the connection to their magic shatter, and a new wave of terror washed over them. The demon was coming.
"Windy, you wait here and stall him! I will deliver the pill to my master!" Sparrow shouted, his voice cracking with desperation as he pushed his speed to its absolute limit, leaving Windy behind without a second glance.
In that moment of pure terror, loyalty to an ally was a luxury he could not afford. Survival was the only currency that mattered.
"Why should I?!" Windy shouted back, turning to follow.
"Because I said so!" Sparrow retorted. "And your master has ordered you to listen to me! Now do it!" He knew it was a cruel, selfish command, but it was his only chance.
Windy stopped in mid-air, the order of his own God a chain around his soul. He gritted his teeth, his form flickering with rage and despair, and turned to face the empty air, to face the invisible monster that was hunting them.
Just then, the voice of his own master, Snatcher, echoed in his mind, a lifeline in a sea of terror. "Don't die, you fool! That is not your master! Retreat to our portal! Now!"
Awakened by the voice, Windy felt a surge of joyous relief. With a final, hateful glance in Sparrow's direction, he changed course, flying desperately towards the location of his own world's portal.
"That fool really stopped to fight that monstrosity," Sparrow thought with a sliver of relief, his eyes locked on the shimmering purple portal ahead. It was a beacon of hope, of safety. He was almost there.
Just as that thought crossed his mind, he hit the invisible mountain again. He bounced back, his body aching, and the shadowy, multi-limbed demon reappeared before him, its dozen red eyes blinking slowly, its form radiating an aura of absolute triumph.
"Oh?" the demon's voice echoed, filled with mock disappointment. "Where has the second little fly gone?"
Sparrow didn't answer. He poured every last ounce of his remaining power into a single, desperate act.
A sun-bright flash of pure light erupted from him, a magical explosion designed to blind any creature for a precious few seconds.
'He can't invade my world,' Sparrow thought frantically as he turned to make a final dash for the portal. 'He should be fearful of my master!'
But the demon wasn't affected at all. The light was simply absorbed into its shadowy form. It smirked, a gesture of final, playful cruelty. It reached out one of its too-many limbs and snatched Sparrow by the legs, its grip like solid iron.
Sparrow was lifted into the air, his world turning upside down. He looked up into the swirling, shadowy face of the demon, into the dozen red eyes that held no anger, only a cold, predatory hunger. He saw the tear in reality, the black hole of a mouth, opening to consume him.
In her God space, Kitsune felt it not only as a mental, but as a physical blow too. A golden thread of connection that had bound her to Sparrow for centuries suddenly... snapped.
The world went silent. A scream of pure, undiluted rage and loss tore from her throat, a sound that cracked the sacred cherry blossom trees in her realm and sent her other lifeforms scattering in terror. "No... No, you can't die like this! I spent everything on you! Return to me!"
[Master, Kitsune's only demigod, Sparrow, is dead,] Thea's calm, emotionless voice reported to Sunny. [I suspect that vixen will be coming to you for help as soon as her sanity returns.]
"You sound quite harsh, Thea. Did she do something to offend you?" Sunny asked, a rare amusement in his voice. He was intrigued by this flicker of human-like personality from his perfect, logical system.