Buzz!
In the underworld, like the pluck of a string, an invisible anchor line spread upward, connecting directly to the Sea of Imaginary Numbers.
Crash!
Waves surged as a towering figure with the touch of green earth upon its head surfaced from the depths, lifting its palms to gather a humanoid spirit of light.
"Morning, Tiamom..."
The greeting, conveyed through resonance of consciousness, traveled along the anchor line to the fingertips of the Goddess of Beginning.
"Where were we yesterday? Oh, right! That tsundere goddess, Ere!"
"You have no idea how contradictory she is. She says she hates trouble, hates humans, but she works harder than a bee, churning out Spear-Cages day and night."
"I figure she must sense that the Mesopotamian world is nearing its end. That's why she's mass-producing these soul-protecting devices."
"But what really gets me is—fine, she wants to work herself to death on a 9-9-6 schedule, whatever—but then she drags me, a snake, into constant overtime too! Absolutely inhuman!"
"And get this—she never even hits her production targets! Can you believe that?"
"In the end, she always runs out of Mana, or the Gallû Spirits start acting up, or another batch of souls needs collecting. She always fumbles at the worst moment."
"So the next day, you'll find her clinging to her quilt, rolling around in bed..."
In the mountains of the underworld, an ancient snake who had skipped work curled up inside a rocky crevice, eyes closed, chattering away with Tiamat across the Sea of Imaginary Numbers.
"And lately, she's been obsessed with sneaking off to dig holes in Uruk during her breaks. She scurries around like a groundhog that freaks out at every noise."
Ian's vivid analogy made him snicker to himself, hissing softly in amusement.
But then, his gaze lifted to the pitch-black dome of the underworld, his expression growing more solemn.
"Tiamom, I don't know why, but even though you've stepped back, the Three Goddess Alliance that destroyed Mesopotamian civilization has still come into being."
"According to the souls that have recently poured into the underworld, they're conducting a full-scale hunt against humanity."
"Forests, oceans, magical beasts, goddesses—everywhere you look, humans are surrounded."
"And now, even the Eleven Offspring are appearing on the surface..."
"That power was supposed to be yours. I just don't get why this is still happening..."
Ian fell silent for a moment, tilting his head as if listening, waiting for some sort of reply.
But Tiamat, floating in the Sea of Imaginary Numbers, remained still—her gaze hollow and pale.
After a long pause, the ancient snake slowly lowered his head and sighed softly.
Most of the Goddess of Beginning's divinity and authority had already been transformed into the framework that gave rise to the Mesopotamian world.
The opening of the Rift in the Sky had allowed her to make brief contact with reality and regain fragments of her emotions.
Had history unfolded as expected, perhaps Tiamat would have reclaimed her divine origin while gradually tearing the world apart.
Yet at the very edge of that desire, the goddess who had become a magical beast had somehow overcome her instincts—sealing the Rift in the Sky with her own hands.
Ian recalled the silhouette he had seen in that white space of consciousness, and the deep sorrow etched on Tiamat's face.
A gentle ripple stirred within his slit pupils. He lowered his head, softly flicking his tongue as he murmured,
"Mother Goddess... the choice you made wasn't just because of me."
"No matter how betrayed you were, no matter how much pain you bore, you still loved your children... still loved humanity, didn't you...?"
"That's why you suppressed your beastly instincts... why you chose to seal yourself away... to exile yourself..."
There was no reply from the Sea of Imaginary Numbers, but Ian faintly felt the anchor line between them tighten, ever so slightly.
As if that sorrowful existence had gently moved her fingers.
The ancient snake curled his lips into a faint smile.
The guilt he carried for pushing Tiamat back into her beastly form was, if only a little, eased.
"Rest assured. Since you love them so deeply, I will follow your will and make sure Mesopotamia is spared."
Immediately, his slightly opened, snake-like vertical pupils gleamed with a deep, mysterious light.
"However, in exchange, the Sumerians will need to make a small sacrifice—and some changes…"
The reason the Mother of Genesis couldn't return was mainly because she had been stripped of the power and divine foundation that sustained her existence.
And her beastly side, as the "Mother of Evil Dragons," was something humans feared and rejected.
But what if both of those problems could be resolved?
Even if the colossal ark of life sank into the Sea of Imaginary Numbers, and a single anchor line tied to the World Egg couldn't pull her back—
Then use a hundred! A thousand! Ten thousand!
Even a hundred thousand! A million! Ten million!
As long as the inherent image of Tiamat as a "Great Disaster" could be changed, and her radiant divine nature restored—Couldn't the worship of the entire Mesopotamian region, the unified belief of all the Sumerians, be enough to call the Mother of Genesis back?
That was the insight sparked by the thread in Ian's mind.
Even if he was to bring Tiamat back, it definitely wouldn't be as a monstrous beast that everyone wanted to slay.
Pitting that sorrowful Mother Goddess against her children, forcing them into a bloody battle to decide who survives—
What a cruel and tragic ending that would be!
But now that the future had already changed, anything was possible.
So why couldn't there be a future where humans and gods both win?
Breaking away from conventional paths and blazing his own trail, the ancient snake hissed softly from within the rocky crevice, his heart already itching to rush to the surface and start preaching to the Sumerians.
But when Ian lowered his gaze to his dark, scaly body and long, slender form, he had no choice but to shelve that enticing plan—for now.
In his current shape, how was he supposed to compete with the gods of Babylon for territory?
Heh. Secretly clearing Tiamat's name and laying the foundation for the Mother of Genesis to return to the surface—this was a hell-level quest.
After all, it was by killing the Mother of Genesis, Tiamat, that the gods of Babylon built their legacy of splitting heaven and earth and creating humankind.
What Ian planned to do was no different from challenging the legitimacy of all those deities.
And even if the gods didn't notice his little scheme and smite him on the spot with a thunderbolt—
That didn't mean Ian himself was safe.
The humans of the Age of Gods could teach him what it really meant to "be a snake."
Yes—the cooking kind.
If he carelessly showed up in a Mesopotamian city, some food-short household might just catch him, skin him, slice him up, and stew him into snake soup.
And not the gentle kind of scene either!
Besides, he'd just picked a fight with Gilgamesh. If he showed up now preaching, who knew if that golden bastard would be generous enough to spare him next time?
After all, the King of Heroes was never particularly fond of gods.
And of course, there was one more crucial point.
The humans of the Age of Gods weren't easy to fool. If he wanted to infiltrate Sumerian society and gain their trust, that alone would be a massive hurdle.
With the beast disaster wreaking havoc as it was, if he wanted any chance of making this work—
He'd at least… need to be human, right?
Tsk. What a long road ahead...
Ian glanced at the tip of his tail curling in front of him, his long body slumping.
His once-burning enthusiasm was now mostly snuffed out by cruel reality.