Phos collapsed onto a soft, cotton bed.

He’d successfully returned to the Anima Mundi—the “Soul of the World” where Gods and Lords resided. Depending on a being’s status and power, they could enter this realm without the use of a medium… unlike Phos.

He sat up, his eyes skimming across his small cottage. A gentle ray of light glimmered through the open window—did he leave it open when he left?—and embraced his home with hues of amber and oak. He could hear the twittering of some birds from afar; no doubt the Lord of birds, Ornis.

Anima Mundi acted as a safe haven for Lords and Gods alike. In this realm, no being could hurt another. Directly, at least.

After all, the Major Gods Bios, Psuche, and Zoe were always watching.

Phos let out a sigh and turned onto his side. Even though the Anima Mundi was literally a haven, he didn’t like staying for too long. He’d rather stay on Earth, watching how his light bulbs influenced humans’ lives.

Morning on Earth was approaching. He wanted to go back.

The issue of the sharpshooter had already been pushed deep into the back of his mind. When the time came, they’d duke it out. But that time wasn’t now.

With a hum, Phos leaped off of his bed and closed the window. As he walked, he stretched, sighing in satisfaction.

150 years; he’d been alive for about 150 years.

Being alive felt great.

For the first half of his life, he simply confirmed his existence, staying with his creator in the laboratory until he died of old age. For the next half, he’d wandered aimlessly, trying to ascertain his role on Earth.

To this day, Phos still didn’t understand. The Sun was already such a big source of light and power, and solar panels had become useful in recent years. People could rely on the Sun, so why did they need artificial light?

Furthermore, candles and fireplaces existed as well. Didn’t he just steal the Lord of Fire’s job? Granted, the two had never met before… but that Lord must have been furious.

Phos truly viewed himself as a lesser god. If he ever disappeared from existence, he didn’t think he’d impact the Earth too much.

Standing on his tiptoes again, Phos reached for the light bulb hanging at the centre of his room. In a flash, he was out on the streets of London again. The Sun was just rising, and along with it, the people of the city.

Everywhere he looked, he saw little lights flickering on. The opening of small shops, the start of new businesses, the waking of familiar homes.

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No matter how many times Phos saw this scene, he’d always feel a warmth travel from his heart through his entire body. Mornings were his peace.

In his white pyjamas and tall boots, he clearly stood out from the crowd of morning workers in black suits and ties. But humans couldn’t see him, and paid him no mind as they rushed off to work.

Phos wanted to try working like them. Maybe then he’d understand more about the world.

As he strolled the streets, he came across many different types of humans: business workers, who he’d seen earlier, partygoers, dressed in short shirts and long, wide pants, foreigners, simple passersby, and more. Phos found them fascinating, and followed a couple to their destinations, where they’d disappear behind a door and never come out again.

In the distance, a man with blue hair and white highlights caught his eye. What a bold style for 1980’s London! The man wore a black-and-white trench coat, decorated with flakes of gold and a belt of pouches slung across his left shoulder. He was tall, with a refined yet dangerous air about him. Phos wondered how no one had stopped to pull him over for interrogation yet.

He followed the man for a long time. He didn’t seem to have a destination in mind, and aimlessly walked about. After a while, Phos decided stalking the man was boring, and turned away to leave.

But the more he thought about the man, the more he found him strange. Perhaps he was looking for someone? That would explain the aimless wandering.

A story began in his mind, one where the blue-haired man was a marksman and could shoot down his targets from a mile away—no, reality had blended too much with his imagination. Yesterday night’s incident probably had no relation at all to that man.

When Phos had explored enough of London, he followed a stranger into a building and jumped up to touch the light bulb that would teleport him home. Landing on his soft bed again, Phos’s thoughts lingered on the sharpshooter from yesterday, and a hint of anticipation arose in his heart.

If they met again, instead of fighting like he once thought they would, he’d try to hold a real conversation with that man. Maybe, after Phos convinced him not to kill him, they could even become friends.

As Phos lost himself in thought, a slight knock on his door brought him back to reality.

Phos lived in a tiny cottage in the big Anima Mundi, but acquaintances he’d made throughout the years would visit from time to time. His closest friend thus far being the Lord of Nature, Nymph, who he’d gotten to know through conventions.

He always admired Nymph, but due to his main element being categorised as fire, with his sub-element as light, he could create tiny flames in his hand, and was always cautious around plants and wildlife. Especially around Nymph, who’d grown wary of the Fire Lord for his impulsive wildfires on Earth, yet still chose to be friends with Phos.

As expected, the person standing at his door when he went to open it was none other than Nymph.

She was rather tall, even more so than Phos, and stared down at the Light Lord for a solid second. In her hands was a white vase, the branch of a willow leaf peeking out from the thin bottleneck.

Nymph had tan skin and short brown hair, and when her piercing azure eyes pulled away from Phos, he realised he’d frozen to his spot.

“Hello, Nymph.” Phos greeted her cordially and forced his legs to move.

“It’s been a while, Phos,” Nymph bluntly stated, sitting down on the light lord’s bed and crossing her legs. “You can relax, you know.”

Phos nodded and sat next to her.

“How have things been? Are you used to this world yet?” Nymph gently placed the willow branch down and smiled at Phos, her kind voice like a sister’s.

“I think so….” Phos responded punctually and fidgeted with his fingers.

“That’s wonderful. Did anything happen recently?”

“Yesterday, I ran into someone on Earth. They tried to kill me.” Phos looked down at his hands, restraining the urge to summon a tiny fire to play with in place of the awkward silence.

When he glanced at Nymph for her reaction, he found a cold light in her eyes.

“It’s alright! I shot him in the stomach.” Phos resolutely added onto his statement.