Year 2465.

Creatures of shadows have flooded the grim blue sky of the The Kingdom of Nyx. Owls, bats, and even beings of the occult, such as shades and banshees, have gathered in anticipation around the next God of Dream's awakening. Circling around Castle Night's tall, gray spires, they flocked. Yet the moon failed not to spectate as the rays of its iridescent bows showered through the castle's mosaic windows.

From a beam just five feet under a cathedral's ceiling, the legs of a nine year-old Onyx were dangling as he gaped in awe at a ceremony beneath him.

King Astel, an aged man with vine-like white hair on top and in front of his face, have stood pridefully on a stage. White robes flailing as if winds were blasting upon him. It was in fact overwhelming magic arising from under this feet. He had raised his hands, palms wide open, releasing a purple mist so excited that it rushed to fill every space in the air around the god.

"Oddie, God of Musing, grandson of Koalemos!" announced a gray-skinned, bristled man, holding one wing of a huge double door open at the opposite side of the room.

Onyx had to twist his waist to see.

An emotionless boy, about the same age as Onyx at the time, walked lethargically across the indigo carpet stretching as far as the steps to the stage.

King Astel's power soared as his eyes glowed purple and a strike of light gusted at Oddie.

For a split minute, fear displaced the boy's apathy, and then a magic field displaced him from the scene as well as it tossed him to a side, at the feet of the other hundred and twenty-seven candidates who have also failed the compatibility examination.

The gray-skinned announcer at the entrance swallowed deeply. "Epressa, Goddess of Misery, descendant of Oizys."

A lady in a lengthy, black veil slid her sandals across the carpet, refusing to raise her head to see the realized god ahead her.

King Astel gathered magic between his palms and sent the same gust of light at the woman.

It dispersed.

Epressa pinched two sides of her dress, curtsied, and proceeded to join the rest. "I don't get why you even fell, you lame ass," she jabbed at Oddie who was hugging himself as if chilled.

"Alor!" continued the gray-skinned announcer. "Goddess of Rise! Great granddaughter of Hemera!"

King Astel started, but immediately put himself to a halt. "Oh come on!" He dropped his arms hopeless, like a child in frustration, and proceeded to mess up his hair and grapple, as he stomped and crashed into a seat. "Hemera? A goddess of daytime, really? Are we even trying anymore?"

A lady in a yellow gown walked in and headed straight for the row of failed candidates.

"We have to try everyone we can." The gray-skinned man reasoned, but said no more, leaving the room quiet for a while.

King Astel sighed. "I know that. I'm sorry. Don't tell me we have any of Selene's descendants here though. They're barely part of our family tree anymore."

"We have just one more candidate."

King Astel sighed once more, leaned back, and melted into the chair as he beckoned to let the last one in.

"He's Alor's twin."

"Uggggghhh." King Astel groaned, grabbing onto his armrests.

"Don't go all whiny now!" A woman snapped from pews arranged by the carpet. "If you hadn't been such a celibate, your heir could have been fifty by now."

"I was a busy god back then, okay?"

"And now?" asked an armored elder by the woman. "You still have time. Surely you still have juices flowing into that crinkly man tool of yours."

"Man tool? Who calls it that?" The woman sneered.

The elder frowned.

"No!" King Astel shrugged and raised his eyebrows at the two of them. "No, okay? I'm multiple centuries old and my back isn't so divine anymore."

The woman and elder glanced at each other, synchronically reclined, and crossed their arms and their legs.

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"What now?" A lady in mauve drapes raised a hand. "If we can't find a candidate before your death, the Mind of Morpheus will..."

"I know." King Astel suckled breath and kept the air within bloated cheeks.

"There is another candidate, Your Highness." Epressa locked her fingers in front of her chest and bowed.

The gray-skinned announcer marched quickly as he approached. "Epressa..."

"Enough of this!" Another man from the pews leapt to his feet. Below his curly black hair, his forehead's wrinkles tightened, and behind his rugged facial hair, his teeth gritted. By 2500, Onyx would probably look like him... as that man... was Onyx's father. "Why must you bring shame to me?"

Epressa smirked. "I'm the Goddess of Misery. It's just me doing my job!"

"If you need hear it from me yourself, so be it. My son is born of mineself and a mortal. He's nothing special. A human! None of my gods' blood has trickled into his veins. A failed attempt. Are you satisfied?"

"Ishtor, my nephew is still your son." The gray-skinned announcer came forth closer, keeping a heated glare at Onyx's father.

"A demigod and no contribution," Epressa murmured as she rolled her eyes, then went to peruse her triangular nails.

Ishtor's frustrated breathing crept to the people around him. He held back and seated himself back down.

King Astel tucked his lips, seeming to hold himself back from wincing at all the exchanges going around. "Right..." He returned his attention to the gray-skinned man. "Where is this final candidate, Olibas?"

The man twisted to check the audience in the pews. "Uhh..."

"Up there," whispered Oddie, gawking drowsily at the ceiling.

Onyx looked to his left and right.

Amongst the audience, a goddess flailed her hand, summoning brown bats that quickly swarmed and wrapped around the boy. Carrying him, they descended and left the kid blocking his face from everyone using only his arms.

Ishtor leapt to stand once more. "Did I not tell you to--"

King Astel shot a magic orb at the pews, but was blocked by a forcefield. "I need silence."

Onyx peeked through a gap between his wrists.

"What's your name, boy?" King Astel cocked forwards, his eyeballs almost dropping out of their sockets as he tried to look as closely as he could from where he was.

The boy took a step back.

"Come on, don't be afraid."

"Astel, he's not--" Ishtor voiced. "He's not a god!"

"He's too young, Ishtor. He very well could be," said the woman beside the elder.

"It's true. Isn't he only nine? Divine essence can manifest itself as late as twenty-one," added the elder.

"Everyone's such wishful thinkers here." Epressa blew at her nails.

"Son?" Astel called, still watching Onyx.

The boy took another step back. This time, barely able to keep his foot steady as his entire body started to shiver.

The people to his left... that's where the failed candidates were. Was he going to end up there too? What'll happen if his father sees him there? Another failure? His father... He was to the right, looking very angry. Why was he always angry at Onyx?

"Son?" Astel called again.

"Onyx?" Uncle Olibas called from behind.

"Onyx? Son? Onyx? Son?"

After a while, all the names he could hear started to jumble. To the point where he couldn't tell whether it was still him being called.

And not too long after... "failure" added to the mix.

Onyx pressed his temples with so much pressure that he almost crushed his own head.

The names grew louder and louder.

And after a while...

Onyx screamed, releasing a pulse so strong that the glass mosaics shattered, prompting even all the gods to duck and cover their heads.

Onyx sobbed, wiped his face, and ran for the closest window to jump out into the night.

Falling, he instinctively kicked the air and pushed himself back up by shooting Gravitate towards the ground.

He ran and ran in the wind.

As more tears flowed out of his eyes, the night engulfed him. Eating evidence of his existence... which made him joyful for a moment, thinking his father would forget about him too. Alas, it was not oblivion that swallowed him, but one of the first spells he has ever learned.

Night Stalker.

"Onyx!" King Astel scouted in the sky, tailed by several dozens of gods who could also fly. "Astral Manifestor! Divination!"

A white outline revealed the boy's location.

"Astral Manifestor! Astral Barrier!"

A transparent purple wall blocked Onyx's path.

"Wool of Slumber!"

A cloud of cotton wafted from the air and caught the boy before he plunged to the ground.

As King Astel descended to follow, he found a weeping child curled into a ball crying into his knees.

"Is it Gods' Grace?" asked one of the gods who have followed.

Alor landed along with the others. "No, that was..."

"Alor and I could use Gravitate too," shared her twin. "But that other spell was unlike any we have used before."

"It's Moon Magic," concluded Olibas.

"Is it not Moon's Sight?"

King Astel brushed hair off of the boy's face, lightly releasing magic to identify the kid's compatibility.

All the gods stayed silent in anticipation.

Olibas, struggling to keep his breathing steady, came just close enough to look over the God of Dream's shoulder. "Result?"

King Astel regretfully shook his head.

Olibas nodded.

"What was his name?"

"Onyx."

"Hey, Onyx." Astel patted the boy's arm. "Sorry, I'm not really good with children. Never really bore my own."

Onyx crumpled wool in his hand. "I'm sorry I'm not what you wanted."

"No, no, no. I'm sorry. I am. I should be the one to be. Please don't blame yourself for anything. It's not your responsibility to secure my heir. That's mine. And I have failed to do that. Not you. Not anyone else here."

Olibas checked the crowd who were beginning to murmur amongst themselves. Collectively, they were nearly as loud as the bats chirping in the sky.

"Hey Onyx." King Astel called again. "I'm sure you know by now that I'm the God of Dreams. Did you know that I have the power to grant some of them?"

"Mine is impossible," Onyx inserted between shuddering lips.

"I won't know that until I hear it." King Astel summoned magic at his fingertip. "What is your dream? Anything you want to be?"

Onyx rolled ever so slightly to peek at the sky from the corner of his eyes. As exhaustion reclaimed his strength, he managed to gasp out only two more words, before drifting to a sleep so deep that he couldn't be shaken awake.

The words were...

"A god."