The Dire Queen allowed herself only a small sigh of disappointment as the last of the Archipelago dissolved into chaotic light and sped away into the space between worlds. Even now she could chase them down if she wanted. Despite their haste and attempts at stealth, the entire structure reeked of magic, a beacon to anything with even halfway decent senses. Plus, there were no annoying Firstborns, or Primordial Elders or Ascendants nearby to interfere.
Except… the False Father already had. It had only been a sliver of His attention and all of it was currently focused elsewhere, but just that tiny amount had been enough to ruin millennia of plans. Who was to say His attention or the Spider's wouldn't lock onto her the moment she made a move? Not to mention those annoying Birds were awake and abroad somewhere in the Apotheon. Mighty as she was, she could not stand against any of them and live.
Plus, if she were being entirely honest, she just wasn't interested anymore. The thrill of the millennia-long plan had evaporated, leaving behind a hollow ache. The continued survival of the artificial goddess had been unexpected; even more so her splintering of the Fragments from her being and the sapience that followed. That moment was when it all started going sideways and that silver-haired monkey's arrival had only hastened the inevitable. A flicker of annoyance sparked at the memory of Ayo, but it was quickly extinguished by a wave of dread.
Because a new presence, vast and terrible, now pressed down upon her like an unseen mountain. It was a sensation she hadn't felt in eons, a signature both terrifying and familiar. Instinct took over. At once the Dire Queen flattened herself on a nearby asteroid, her immense form shrinking until she resembled a common black beetle. Submission, complete and utter, was the only option and fear, primal and raw, coursed through her.
A Dire Empress had arrived.
A soft chuckle, like wind chimes tinkling in a forgotten corner, filled the void. The pressure lessened, allowing the Queen to lift her head a fraction and there, bathed in the soft light of a distant star, stood a figure cloaked in swirling nebulae. It was a being of pure power, its form shifting and morphing, defying definition before finally settling. It looked like a normal little girl, albeit with skin a touch too pale and thick, ebony hair that fell down to her ankles.
But no little girl in existence had ever worn a smile so cruel. Had possessed eyes so dark they seemed to drink in all light. The Empress stretched, as though testing out the body and only then seemed to notice the grovelling Queen.
"Oh, forgive my theatrics, little one," she boomed, the voice a chorus of a thousand people. "But I do so love a grand entrance."
The Dire Queen, still trembling, could only stammer out an apology. The Empress laughed again, a sound that rang out like nails down a chalkboard.
"No need for apologies," she replied, her voice gentling. "You've played your part admirably. True Mother's plan is unfolding perfectly. Those who fled have merely walked from the frying pan into the fire. A far more entertaining fire, I might add."
The revelation struck the Dire Queen like a supernova. True Mother? A plan? So. It was confirmed then. Her success here had never been needed at all. All this time, she'd been a pawn in a far grander game, manipulated by forces beyond her comprehension. A sliver of morbid curiosity flickered – what exactly was this plan? But the question died on her tongue, unspoken. In the presence of an Empress, such inquiries were not her place to make.
The figure turned, its gaze fixed on the empty space where the Archipelago had vanished. "Let them go," it said, its voice echoing. "They are but kindling for the true blaze to come."
Then, with another peal of laughter, the Empress shimmered and dissolved into the cosmos, leaving the Dire Queen alone with the immensity of her insignificance and the dawning realisation of a future far greater than she could have ever imagined.
“For the True Mother,” she whispered, borrowing one of those patterns of speech the Vestigians were so fond of. “For… The End.”
***
Leaning against the railing of his newly gifted balcony, Luan surveyed the bustling streets of An Layan below. Gone were the haunted faces of a people clinging to survival. Now, laughter and the shouts of playful children mingled with the rhythmic thwack of cultivators honing their skills. It warmed him, a stark contrast to the chilling winds whistling through the vast emptiness beyond the protective dome.
Luan gazed out at the endless expanse, marvelling at the way the inky blackness seemed to stretch on infinitely in all directions. Surreal barely began to describe the sensation.
According to Elder Nuru, Vestige's spirit realm had always been thin and tenuous - a consequence of the endless disasters that had beset their homeland over the centuries. With the planet itself now lost to the Calamities' rampage, what little metaphysical imprint remained was rapidly fizzling out.
This fragile interim state wouldn't last, but luckily it would hold just long enough for their exodus to pass and fully emerge into the vast spirit cosmos, the pathways between realms. But for now, Luan allowed himself to simply...exist. To bask in the reality of what they'd accomplished, against all odds.
A rowdy chorus of feminine laughter drew his attention towards his newly-gifted home on An Solidan. Three shapely figures leaned precariously from an open window, their skimpy attire leaving little to the imagination as they waved and called out to him with sultry invitations. Luan's returning grin was one of pure contentment. The perks of being best friends with the new gods of the Archipelago weren't half bad.
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The sound of approaching footsteps preceded Narai's arrival at his side. Her stormy expression clashed with the idyllic surroundings as she delivered a look of pure disdain towards Luan's paramours.
"Really? Those three?" she scoffed. "I know we're Icons now, but I didn't think that meant completely discarding all standards."
Luan dodged a playful swat. "Like you're one to judge," he countered with a wolfish grin. “Who was it that slept with those boys from House Sunfire?”
Her ire was short-lived, melting away as he pulled her into an embrace. Narai hummed contentedly, relaxing against his chest. "We should go flying. Just you, me, and our dragons. Get away from..." She waved a hand vaguely. "...all of this madness for a bit. Ayo knows this wasn't what we expected when we agreed to become Core Elders.”
"I don't think she'd want you swearing on her name." Luan kept his tone light, knowing how to handle his tempestuous friend's moods.
"Oh?" Narai arched an eyebrow. "Well, if she has a problem with it she can come down here and tell me herself."
A slight crease furrowed her brow as she glanced towards the encompassing dome shielding their travelling realm fragment. "How do you think they're doing?"
Luan considered the question. "I’m sure they’re fine. They're gods now, Narai. There's a limit to how much time they can spend with us fleshy folk. They'll be okay. Unlike us, if we don't get this housing conflict between House Westlight and Brightroar settled before dawn."
Narai groaned, then kept groaning as a young messenger rushed up to her, panting. He relayed a quick message, his eyes wide with excitement and her annoyance melted away as she skimmed the message scroll.
"Looks like we'll have to summon them sooner than expected," she said, a hint of curiosity battling with her usual stoicism. "Nuru says we just entered another world's spirit realm and some of their cultivators are headed this way."
She stared at the text in bafflement for a moment. "Apparently, they're called… dibias?"
***
Nuru leaned against the shimmering barrier of the dome, a mischievous glint twinkling in his rainbow-coloured eyes. Directly behind him, a flurry of activity buzzed through the Archipelago. Ayo, Wole, and Mairo, having once again taken physical form, hovered at the forefront, a celestial welcoming committee. Cultivators scurried about, weapons clutched defensively, their gazes fixed on the approaching figures warping into existence from the swirling mists of the spirit realm.
A soft chirp drew Nuru's attention. Perched on his shoulder was his Ironsoul, no longer the unfortunate hulking monstrosity it had been forced to take in Vestige. Here, amidst the richer essence of this new realm, it had reverted to one of its more favoured forms – a vibrant metallic hummingbird, albeit still far larger than its terrestrial counterparts.
"Well, Le'Kai," Nuru murmured to the tiny creature, its feathers catching the celestial light. "Looks like our student has learned a lot since we last met."
The Ironsoul chirped in agreement, its iridescent body shimmering with newfound vigour. Nuru couldn't help but grin, a touch of pride warming his ancient being. He had taken a gamble on the young Starborn, guiding her towards this very moment. And now it looked like another one of his pieces had blossomed in his absence.
Nuru always loved it whenever his candidates got to interact with each other.
"The Wandering Ghost approaches," he declared, a playful lilt to his voice. “Let’s go say hi.”
***
He feels her well before he sees her. It's a twinge in his skin, a cool metallic taste in his mouth. An unmistakable frisson of immense power entering his sphere of perception.
The Father scowls as he sits in the study of the House of Knowledge, surrounded by tomes and grimoires documenting eons of arcane lore, the familiar scent of old leather and ancient scrolls filling his nostrils. But they are of little comfort. Things have not been going well for him of late.
The Igbo gods have been freed, which is objectively a positive for the world...yet it has immediately skyrocketed the influence of the House of Life - a faction he'd been meticulously undermining for decades through careful machinations. All that effort, undone by some upstart dibia and some silly prophecies.
He exhales a frustrated sigh. It's not all bad news, at least. One of his nephews, Arinze, is finally turning into something resembling a credible asset, having just completed a difficult mission on the world of Oasis. Unorthodox, this realm-shifting business, but having allies beyond Earth certainly has its advantages.
If only the same could be said for his direct bloodline. His lip curls in distaste as he considers his wife - that wine-addled embarrassment. Were it not for her influential family's substantial holdings in the House of Charms, he would have discarded her already. As it stood, he'd been forced to have the woman restrained to ensure she didn't drink away the child she now carried.
The twins were still too young to evaluate their potential worth.
And then, there's her.
It's then that the presence fully materialises within his study. He recognizes her instantly, of course, despite the impossible transformation. A flicker of amusement dances behind his eyes as he regards her with an arched brow - regal, radiant, and utterly transformed from the powerless waif who'd departed his realm.
"So, you've done something with yourself," he remarks, treating her to a razor-edged smile. "You've become a goddess. Well done, daughter. Turns out you're not a complete disgrace after all."
Ayo, his eldest, offers nothing but a scoff as she enters. Her aura is potent, controlled with a tight hand. Yet it takes all his effort to suppress the instinctive awe that threatens to consume him, the urge to confess, to beg for forgiveness for all his many crimes. His brow furrows. Is that a Domain? Citadel or Cipher, perhaps? Unlikely Vestige, not unless she stumbled upon it by sheer luck or was somehow chosen. Now there’s an interesting thought. It certainly can't be Ingress. He'd have known the moment she arrived.
"How did you achieve apotheosis?" The question slips out before he can rein in his curiosity, earning him a flash of anger from his daughter's eyes.
"Of course that's what you focus on," Ayo bites out. "Did you even notice I was gone?"
The Father allows a hollow chuckle to roll from his lips. "Naturally. I knew the very moment you departed this realm. What, you think I don't keep track of what's mine?"
He settles back into his plush chair, steepling his fingers as he regards her with fresh calculation. "I suspected you'd finally grown a spine about rectifying your...unfortunate lack of abilities. The best course of action, I decided, was to let you rise or sink on your own. And look how high you've risen."
A lazy gesture indicates the solitary other chair. "Now, are you going to sit and explain what you want? Or will you keep wasting time with this charade of pretending you still value my opinion?"
Ayo blinks once, a flicker of surprise evident even through her carefully crafted mask and he takes a perverse pleasure in her momentary lapse. Fortunately, she composes herself quickly, the flatness that replaces her initial reaction strangely satisfying. Good, he thinks with a sliver of paternal pride. She's learning.
"Good evening, Father." The chill in her tone is refreshingly devoid of the emotional outbursts he'd wearied of in the past. At that moment, he almost regrets discarding his Name. "I have a proposition for you..."