Above the firmament, the God King's divine domain of the sky floated above all things, at a height neither day nor night could reach.
Nothing belonging to the mortal world existed here, only a vast void condensed from pure divine power, shimmering with a deep, dark-gold luster.
At the very center of the dome stood a towering, ponderous throne.
Upon the throne, Uranus sat with his eyes closed. His frame was immense, his presence oppressive even while seated. His skin had the texture of ancient metal, and the contours of his muscles were as hard as carved stone.
His face was handsome and majestic, carrying a cold severity that brooked no defiance even in sleep.
Most striking of all was the crown upon his head, formed from pure, supreme divine power. Light streamed across it, and its flickering glow released a suffocating pressure.
It was the Crown of the God King, the symbol of the world's supreme authority. Its very existence proclaimed to all things that the one seated beneath it was the god of all gods, the incarnation of the sky and laws, the absolute sovereign who could not be defied.
His eyes were closed, his breathing steady and deep. The injuries those laws had inflicted on him were slowly healing. Divine power surged through his divine body like rivers, mending those invisible cracks.
Beneath the throne, twelve figures knelt on the empty, dark-gold floor.
The Twelve Titans, children of Uranus and Gaia, had been born with powerful godheads. They needed neither accumulation nor tempering; they had started as first-class deities.
They were tall, yet now they huddled in on themselves. They dared not raise their heads, meet one another's eyes, or even breathe too loudly.
Yet two of them still lost control of their breathing.
Mnemosyne was the goddess of memory. Her godhead governed everything in the world that was remembered. Her divine power had always grown steadily and sluggishly, without any breakthrough fluctuations.
But last night, she had seen the effects of that music through the memories of living beings. Something had suddenly surged within her, and her domain of memory had expanded.
Those joyful memories of living beings moved by the music, those warm moments from the past that flashed through their minds before death, those fragments that were no longer cold because they were remembered-all had entered the scope of her authority, and her divine power had abruptly risen.
Iapetus, the god of souls, also looked ashen. His domain of souls had expanded. Those souls that went peacefully to their deaths had been soothed and healed before departing, making the souls themselves more complete and more attuned to the rhythm of the laws.
His godhead had benefited as a result. The boundaries of his authority had become much clearer, and his divine power had also risen.
The two raised their heads at the same time, exchanged a swift glance, then lowered them together. Their eyes held nothing but terror, without a trace of joy.
What would Uranus think if he discovered that their divine power had grown for no reason?
Their eldest brother Oceanus, god of oceans and rivers, and their elder sister Tethys, goddess of the sea, were living examples.
After their union, they had given birth to three thousand ocean goddesses and countless river deities. Through childbirth and propagation, they had continually expanded the boundaries of their authority, their divine power rising rapidly until they were on the verge of reaching the threshold of great gods.
But this had also directly provoked their brutal father's displeasure and wariness. Uranus believed they harbored thoughts of rebellion, and without another word, he had seized all his children and brought them to the celestial domain to enslave them.
Their younger brothers and sisters born afterward had fared even worse. They had barely opened their eyes, without even a chance to see the world, before a hand of the sky seized them and stuffed them into this prison.
Now they had done nothing, yet their divine power had inexplicably grown.
They dared not investigate its source or ask why. They could only pray that Uranus would not sense these faint fluctuations while secluded in recovery.
If he woke and discovered that his prisoners had grown stronger rather than weaker, none of them dared imagine what torment would await them.
The other Titans also noticed the faint fluctuations of divine power coming from the two. Rhea turned her head slightly and cast them a sympathetic glance, then quickly lowered it again.
Cronus's fingers curled slightly against the floor, his lips pressed into a thin line, but in the end, he did nothing.
Invisible chains bound every one of them by the neck. None had the power to share another's burden.
Time slowly passed. Driven by the laws, night retreated toward the horizon, and the radiance of Hemera, goddess of day, once again spread across the world. Dawn had come.
In the bushes, Nairmis was awakened by the light.
He blinked twice, his vision gradually coming into focus. His long golden hair lay scattered across his shoulders and the grass. He sat up and stared blankly at the empty sky for a while.
Then the events of yesterday slowly came back to him: afterward, he had sat on the grass and happily gone over everything in his mind, only belatedly realizing that an intense wave of drowsiness had washed over him.
Once he relaxed, all his physical and mental exhaustion had come flooding out. He could not even be bothered to move elsewhere. He had simply fallen backward onto the grass and fallen asleep almost at once.
"Handsome and beautiful Lord Nairmis, you're awake."
Nairmis turned toward the voice. The nymph crouched nearby, holding a broad leaf in her hands, her eyes bright and clear. When she saw him look over, a smile immediately lifted the corners of her mouth.
Nairmis smiled at her and casually tucked his golden hair behind his ear. "Hello, little nymph."
The nymph carefully held the leaf out before him. "Are you thirsty? I collected this water fresh this morning. It's very clean."
Nairmis took it and lowered his head to drink a mouthful. He smiled at the nymph. "Thank you, and thank you for yesterday, too, for helping me pick up so many stones."
The nymph bit her lower lip and fell silent for a moment. Then, as though she had made up her mind, she walked barefoot up to him and bowed her head. Her pale-blue fingertips overlapped before her chest in the most solemn gesture of supplication she had learned from her inherited memories.
"Honored Lord Nairmis... I, I want to... if, if you wouldn't mind... could I... could I serve you? I'm very weak, and I can't help you fight, but I can watch over the pool for you and find things... I won't cause any trouble. I really won't!"
When she finished, she waited without raising her head, her fingers overlapping a little more tightly against her chest.
Nairmis tilted his head and thought for a moment. He was indeed very weak now, but he was certain he would not remain a weak deity forever.
Besides, what he planned to do next would certainly be exhausting for just one god.
He needed helpers who could keep an eye on his surroundings, gather information, or even simply stand quietly nearby while he worked to keep him from being disturbed.
But one nymph seemed a little too few. He needed more worker nymphs.