The heart that had just taken shape pounded violently in his chest. Seriously? He was only a weak, newly born god. Was he really worth the supreme God-King dealing with him personally?
He thought of Ourea, that colossal being who bore half the world's weight, whose consciousness had been shattered before the God-King, leaving him incapable of coherent thought ever again.
And what did he have? A mass of chaos that had only just taken form, a lesser god whose divine aspect of emotion had no offensive power whatsoever. He did not even know how to turn emotions into weapons. He had nothing.
Nairmis's heart was pounding so hard it felt about to burst. He wanted to flee, but beneath the sky's dome, there was nowhere to go.
He nearly coughed up blood. After finally coming back to life, he was going to die just after being born.
Uranus gathered energy in his right hand. The laws trembled violently, issuing continuous warnings.
A dull ache came from deep within his body, the world's punishment for his destruction of Ourea's consciousness, but he did not stay his hand. He would show the entire world what came of defying the God-King's will.
Gazes converged from every direction, all bearing the same emotion: grief for another whose fate might be their own, helpless sorrow at the sight of a newly born life about to be crushed.
But at the very moment the God-King was about to strike, the entire world turned from day to night.
The goddess of day froze where she stood. She had already retreated to the farthest corner of the horizon, terrified of being caught in the attack.
Now she looked up toward the source of the darkness, first startled, then with wild joy flooding her eyes.
Mother. Mother was here.
The divine power in Uranus's hand slowly dispersed. His gaze turned grave as he looked into the distance.
The gods all turned their eyes toward the distance. At the far end of the darkness, a figure approached through the night.
She stepped out of the distant curtain of night, crossing a thousand miles with each stride. Wherever she passed, starlight twined like gauze beneath her feet, and moonlight flowed through her long hair.
Her beauty was too breathtaking to look upon directly, yet too fathomless to see clearly. Her long black robes trailed behind her, merging with the night beneath her feet. Her eyes were deep, and when you gazed into them, you saw the night itself.
Her presence silenced the entire world. Nyx, the goddess of night and fate, one of the five primordial gods, had appeared.
She crossed a thousand miles with each step. A moment ago, her figure had still been on the horizon; in the blink of an eye, she was already near the God-King.
Her face was calm. Her gaze passed over Uranus's enormous body and settled briefly on the young, blond god atop Mount Proeon.
Her gaze shifted slightly. She was the goddess of fate.
The deity who presided over night shared the same root and origin as fate. Night was the unknown, and the unknown was fate's most ancient cradle.
As the goddess of fate, Nyx should not have appeared here. She was the goddess of fate, yet she had never truly controlled fate.
The divine aspect of fate was trapped deep within the river, unable to break free, unable to respond.
The river of fate had always flowed peacefully, the paths of the gods clear and plain.
But the moment Nairmis was born, its waters had suddenly surged, variables spreading in every direction like ripples.
She had been drawn by a feeling she had never experienced before. The deity of fate had been imprisoned deep within the river of fate for far too long, and now, a variable offered her a sliver of a chance at release.
So she had come, first to stop Uranus from killing this newborn variable.
Second, Gaia's wails had gone on for far too long. The abyss, Tartarus, could not move, her husband Erebus was still asleep, and her younger brother Eros wandered formless and shapeless between heaven and earth.
She was the only one who could step forward.
Nairmis went rigid. That gaze was too quiet. There was no scrutiny, no curiosity, only a kind of seeing that he could not decipher at all.
For that instant, Nairmis felt as though he had no secrets whatsoever. The sensation suffocated him even more than Uranus's killing intent.
Nyx withdrew her gaze and turned to Uranus, her expression as calm as a night sea untouched by wind for a thousand years. Night winds circled her, and flecks of starlight glittered in her hair.
"Great lord of the sky, exalted Majesty, God-King." She spoke, her voice like the night itself speaking, soft, low, and distant.
"Through your creation of the firmament, order was established. You rule the high heavens, and your authority is beyond compare."
Uranus inclined his head slightly. This was the courtesy observed when deities met: first praise the other's authority, then speak of the matter at hand.
"The world is already covered in wounds."
Nyx continued, her gaze sweeping over charred ridgelines, dried riverbeds, and a sea covered in foam.
"The earth weeps, the sea gasps, and the mountains are shattered, even their sense of self scattered. You have seen all of this."
She did not tell him to stay his hand. She merely stated the facts, then left the choice to the God-King.
The world fell silent, and the gods' gazes converged on Uranus.
He stood between the firmament and the earth, the dull ache of the laws' punishment still lingering in his enormous body.
He looked at Nyx, this primordial goddess older even than himself, this being in whom night and fate coexisted.
He sensed her aura, deep as an abyss. Though he was already the God-King, his divine power reaching the level of a supreme god with the support of the God-King's rank, he could still feel danger in Nyx's presence.
But he also knew that primordial gods were constrained by the laws and could not act at will. That was an ironclad rule established when chaos first opened.
Were it not for that, he would long since have been unable to eat or sleep in peace.
And right now, he was not at his full strength either. The punishment of the laws still throbbed faintly, the breach in the firmament needed repairing, and although Pontus had been left paralyzed, the sea was still churning beneath the surface.
Killing a lesser god was a minor matter, but if it meant an irrevocable break with Nyx, the entire order would be shaken.
He remained silent for a long time. Then he spoke, his voice carrying across the earth.
"Your Grace, goddess of night and fate, your fair name is as eternal as the night, and your wisdom as profound as the stars."
He first returned her courtesy, his gaze sharp. "You are right. The world is indeed covered in wounds. I have no wish to inflict further harm, but someone challenged the God-King's authority, and I had no choice but to act to establish my might. From this day onward, if everyone knows their place, I will not inflict punishment without cause."
He paused, his gaze darkening.
"Under the laws, each has their place. As God-King, I have the God-King's duties. I hope Your Grace will remember the proper bounds."
With that, he did not wait for an answer. His enormous body slowly rose toward the firmament, and his presence vanished completely from the gods' perception.
All the gods let out long breaths of relief. Nairmis raised a hand and wiped his forehead with his fingertips. They came away wet.
His blond hair clung to his cheeks as he gulped down air.
He was saved. He really was saved. Nyx had come, the God-King had withdrawn, and he had survived.
Then he sensed another gaze, and tension gripped his heart once more.
At some point, Nyx had turned around and was now looking at him from afar.