"You dare to challenge me?" Aperio asked. Her voice slamming into the Human like a physical force, causing him to crumple further into a frail and helpless heap. "You are weak."

She brought her outstretched arm down in a sharp motion, reality itself seeming to split apart in its wake. A heartbeat later, reality shifted again. The ground reached for itself greedily, knitting itself back together. The air, too, seemed to imperceptibly rush into itself to once again become a coherent whole. Then, air and earth heaved, sliding spent blood and flesh back towards the fallen Human. With a grating slurp the two halves of the corpse stretched, accepting the offshoots of injury back within itself and molding back into a singular entity. As soon as the lungs reformed the screaming began anew, wordlessly proclaiming in no uncertain terms to all present that life, too, had returned to the Human.

Aperio had not wanted to kill him — at least not yet. All she had wanted to do was inflict pain, something the universe itself was seemingly very willing to help her with. Shifting her attention away from the now crying Kiro, the winged Goddess drove her hand through the air in front of her, breaking reality like a glass window and revealing a vast expanse of white. She did not know how she had done what she did, but what she needed from here was clear.

Her senses filled the white expanse, searching for what she knew to be present. In a fraction of a moment, what she sought appeared before her. The bladed staff hovered in the nothing, slowly spinning around its own axis. Waiting.

A thought was all Aperio needed to wake the weapon from its slumber.

Thin strands of silver came to life all along the black surface of the blade, a line of blue that seemed to slice through the very space it occupied forming on the cutting edge. Delicate cracks of blue appeared, pulsing rhythmically, and spread web-like across the silver haft. Once the progression of her mana throughout the weapon had stopped, Aperio willed it to return to her hand.

The swordstaff felt comfortable to hold, the weight it carried vastly preferable to the feather-like feel of the sword she had used before. Another thing this weapon — her weapon — brought was the knowledge that it would not break should she grip it with a bit more force.

Aperio spun the blade in her hand once before she pointed it at that cowering Human in front of her. A small flex of her newly empowered magical muscles brought the fanatic’s sword out from her Void and embedded it in the floor in front of Kiro. "Go on. Fight me."

Kiro's only response was to curl up, clearly trying to make himself as small as possible. Aperio scoffed at the movement. "You proclaimed the challenge! Now stand and fight!"

The Human youth, ever so slowly, stood up. His eyes were wide open in shock as his body obeyed Aperio's will and not his own. She could feel his fear, taste it in the air. Smell it. A rapid movement behind her, sensed through her aura, caused Aperio to rapidly spin in place and point her bladed staff at the approaching figure.

Aperio wanted to unleash the full brunt of her anger on the person who had dared to interrupt her, but at the sight of fiery red hair and the unmistakable touch of her daughter’s magic a tiny sliver of shock interrupted her movements. She had sworn to herself that she would not, would never hurt family, and yet in the heady heat of impending battle she had almost done just that.

She had almost brought the full force of her might against her own daughter..

She let out a breath, a thin line of wispy mana-smoke leaving her mouth. As the arms of her daughter carefully wrapped around her and a whispered "Calm" entered her ears, Aperio ceased the flow of mana from her well. As good as it felt to let her mana flow through her, it was not worth the loss of control it brought with it.

When she had felt power fill every fiber of her being, more than she had ever thought possible, she had wanted to use it to erase the insolent mortal who had challenged her from existence. And I almost did. Still, at least some good came of this. She had her own weapon again, one that would not break under the force of her wielding it, and she knew the frightful power of its abilities. What remained unrevealed to her was how she had known where it was. Or, for that matter, how she had gotten it back.

The light emanating from her skin and the wisps of mana that danced around her wings were slowly starting to vanish as the excess she had pulled from her well was rapidly incorporated into her physical form. Using her feathered limbs, Aperio concealed the two of them from the prying eyes of the people that surrounded them.

"Thank you," she whispered. That the note of power in her voice had yet again increased in strength was ignored; an obvious consequence of what she had done. She also tried not to listen to the murmurs of the onlookers, as what they had witnessed was obviously far outside the scope of what any of them knew.

"I have never seen you like that before. Just you standing there in that state, doing nothing, would be enough to kill most mortals," Ferio said, separating herself from her mother in what seemed to be an attempt to examine her. "I also didn't know you grew taller when angered."

Aperio could only tilt her head at the statement. She had not noticed a change in height; the Human had always seemed small and weak to her. Does it really matter? For her, such a minor change in her physical form did not. What did matter, however, was that she had lost control yet again. That she had been intoxicated by her own might. All because a mortal challenged me. I should be above that.

She let out a sigh, folding her wings behind her back again. Perhaps I just need to let loose once. Blow up a mountain or something. In the end, she would need to learn how to control the power she commanded one way or another. Hopefully regaining my memory helps with that.

Turning back around, Aperio moved towards the cowering form of Kiro. He winced as she stepped closer, trying to scoot away from the winged Goddess but failing to do so. "Do not challenge someone you cannot beat,” she said before gesturing to the sword that was still firmly embedded in the floor. “You may keep this as compensation for your broken one." And because I have a proper weapon now.

The swordstaff she had retrieved felt good in her hand, a familiar weight that she had not known she missed. Her mana had run through the weapon, causing shining lines to permeate across the haft and blade as it had waited to be used. It was almost like it was anticipating her desire to impose her will on creation and offering itself up as a tool to help that come to pass. Such power and abilities were concepts that she would have found uncomfortable just a few moments ago, but now they seemed to feel oddly welcome.

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Peering into the vast expanse of nothing but white light had changed — Restored? — something. The amount of information she received from her aura had not altered, but the quality of it had increased. Everything seemed to feel more palpable to her. She could feel the beating hearts of the mortals surrounding her, how they drew in her magic with every breath they took.

That was something else that had changed. She could see how things connected to each other and, in the end, to her. This new visual ability was fleeting, growing weaker with each passing moment as the mana was absorbed in her body's constant quest for improvement. No use denying it anymore. The way in which all that she could see connected back to her made it quite clear that her [Demiurge] title had meant exactly what she thought it did.

Still, she tried not to focus on the tiny threads that tied all of reality to her and instead brought a tiny bit of foreign mana to her attention. As she brought it closer she recognized the form of a prayer, its nature apparent by the quiet whispers that came from it. A quick inspection revealed it to be from Caethya. So she’s made her choice. ...Or she wants to know what just happened here.

A mental query to her daughter informed her that none outside of those directly present for her outburst should have noticed anything out of the ordinary. Ferio also asked that she please restrain herself in the future as the strain she had put on her daughter by merely existing had been greater than what she was comfortable with. Aperio could only grimace at the reply, another reminder that she had lost control. With a shake of her head, she focused on Caethya's prayer again.

"I wish to accompany you and your daughter to the core," the Elven woman's disembodied voice said. "My former party does not want to believe my words and may try to stop us. I beg for your mercy on their behalf, they do not know who you are and would not believe me if I told them."

It was understandable reaction of course; who would believe someone who was kidnapped when they claimed that the one that had taken them was the literal creator of the world?

Luckily, the way Aperio intended to cover the last part of their journey would make tracking them rather difficult. If they try to stop us… They simply would not be able to. Additionally, the tiny voice in the back of her mind that readily told her she did not have to fear mortal weaponry was also being quite vocal in its praise of the potential combat prowess of the one she had inadvertently blessed. She was fairly certain that, should a fight come to pass, Caethya alone could take on her group.

After she had informed Caethya that she would be with her shortly, Aperio stored her freshly reacquired weapon in her Void. Then, she quickly checked on Kiro, something she should have probably done sooner. He winced at the touch of her mana, trying again to distance himself from the winged Goddess. Aperio couldn't blame him, but neither would she feel sorry for him.

The only injuries she could find were already healing, and there was no sign of any permanent form of damage. At least physically. If he would recover from whatever shock he carried from this encounter was out of her hands. He had challenged her, and he would have to deal with the consequences.

Unwilling to give any form of explanation to the people that were still gathered around them, Aperio took to the sky. Ferio quickly followed her, a slight frown on her face as her mother had not told her she would be leaving. A mental apology later, the two set off to where Aperio could sense Caethya.

The short journey was not enough to clear her head from what she had done just moments prior, the feeling of her mana freely flowing through her still fresh. She wanted to experience it again, almost desperately so, but would not give in to the feeling until she knew she would not lose control. And not until I can do it without impacting everyone around me.

Their arrival did not go unnoticed, the group of adventurers immediately turning their attention to the pair of Goddesses. Aperio ignored the looks the others gave her and focused on Caethya. "Are you ready to leave?"

After a brief moment of hesitation, the Elf nodded. "Yes."

"Can you fly?"

In response to her question, Caethya began to hover slightly above the ground.

After a nod, Aperio kicked off of the ground and spread her wings again. She waited for both Ferio and Caethya to catch up before she moved towards the entrance of the next floor.

"Why the hurry?" Ferio asked.

Aperio could offer no proper answer to her daughter's question, just a feeling of general discomfort she got from being here. Perhaps it was the shame she felt for her loss of control, or maybe it was that the dungeon itself was starting to do something in order to get her to leave. In the end, it did not matter much — their journey downwards would continue now.

Much to her dismay, Aperio found Caethya's speed to be rather slow, something that was luckily not that important as the entrance was close by. Or am I just too fast? It was possible, but then, Ferio had no trouble keeping up with her thus far. But she is also a Goddess, and I have not yet flown as fast as I can.

Pushing the rather useless train of thought from her mind, Aperio focused on the entrance leading further down. Just like the ones in the upper floors, it had a booth staffed by a uniform-wearing member of the guild. The presence of the checkpoint did raise a question in her mind. Does Caethya have a token?

She conveyed her question as gently as she could to the newest member of their group, slowing down slightly when Caethya tumbled a little as the thoughts reached her. Once she had regained her bearings, she produced a small card not too dissimilar from the ones Aperio and her daughter had received. Not a problem then.

They set down just outside the small building that housed the stairway, getting a brief nod from one of the guards standing beside the open door. Caethya offered a small wave while Aperio and Ferio simply walked past the armoured figure.

Much like before, they were quickly waved through after they had presented their tokens. The stairs leading down were similarly unremarkable, the dungeon seemingly using the same design every time. Is it even intelligent? It was a question she would hopefully be able to answer soon.

"Uhm, Lady All-Mother. ...Did something happen?" Caethya asked. "I felt something in my blessing change. I don't know what it was, but I felt angry and ...powerful? I don't know how else to put it."

So what I feel leaks over to those who carry my blessing? Or is it because she was close? "Someone needed to be taught a lesson. What you felt was a part of what I felt." Why Caethya had felt more powerful was not something she knew, but something told her that the more concentrated her mana became in one place, the stronger someone with her blessing would be. They do use my mana after all. "You may also call me Aperio. I am not too fond of formality."

The statement got her an affirmative nod and a brief, confused look. "I hope whoever required a teaching from you has learned their lesson."

"I think they did."

The rest of the journey down was spent in silence, Aperio mentally preparing for what she had planned once they reached the next floor. She was relatively confident that it would work — or, at least, she saw no reason why it shouldn't. Only one way to find out.