The sound of nothingness was vast.
Vastarael found himself barefoot on an infinite plane of an ocean so still it mirrored the heavens like glass. The sky above him was just as vast, stretching forever in hues of soft velvet cerulean, the clouds barely dusting its edge. There was no horizon, no land and no sun. And yet, not a single ripple disturbed the ocean's serene silence.
His fingers opened and closed slowly, feeling not wetness, warmth nor cold. Everything here breathed a quiet peace that felt older than reality. But his thoughts weren't idle. This wasn't a dream. He was in a state. He turned around. There, standing across the still blue mirror of sea and sky, was someone. He could recognize the curly dark hair and cerulean eyes anywhere.
Lysameria Richinaria, his mother.
"Mother? Am I dead?"
Lysameria laughed.
"No, my sweet boy. You are not dead. You're within my Overwrite. A projection of spirit, tethered by the song you used."
He looked around again, then down at his own reflection. He wasn't translucent or fading.
"My spirit... not my soul?"
"The spirit is the consciousness of the soul. It responded to something only I made, The Path of the Maiden's Current. When you resonated, I felt it. You left yourself open just enough for me to call to you."
Vastarael's lips parted slightly. "So you heard me?"
"No. I felt you and I pulled you here. It's just for a while though. You used it, didn't you? The song I made. I never thought I'd see the day."
He scratched his head. "I… had to improvise."
She laughed again, stepping closer across the unmoving ocean.
"You're not just improvising anymore. You're a Dynasty Monarch now. You've inherited my legacy. You have five beloveds who are strong, unique and fearsome women who care deeply for you. And you've become powerful, my dear. Truly powerful."
But Vastarael didn't smile at that. His gaze dropped, then wandered.
"I didn't do all this to be strong. I'm getting stronger to finish the mission to end the Second Generation Deities. Wasn't that why Dynasty Richinaria was made?"
The moment he said it, the color of the sea seemed to dull. Lysameria's smile faded. The air around her shifted slightly. Her arms dropped to her sides and her long hair slid forward, covering the light of her gaze.
"So you've been doing all this just because you were born to be a Monarch?"
She stood still for a moment too long, then said something that hit harder than any blade.
"You didn't have a childhood. You were seven to eight when I began teaching you the Plenituse Technique. That was three years of constant pressure. Then your father took over with magecraft for seven more years with no rest. While your siblings had festivals, friends and laughter, you had stances, scrolls and scars."
Her voice broke. "I told myself it was for the mission. I convinced myself I had to raise the perfect heir to carry our burden. I let the world carve purpose into you without once asking what you wanted."
The ocean rippled once.
"I'm sorry, Vastarael. I'm sorry for giving you purpose but never permission to just be a child."
He stepped forward slowly. He was even taller than her now compared to when he was seventeen on his second birthday. He wrapped his arms around her in one firm, encompassing hug.
Lysameria froze. He was... warm.
"You did everything for me and I never saw it that way. You weren't cold. You were just scared. You loved me so much that you never let yourself be weak around me."
Lysameria's breath hitched.
"I did have a good childhood. It wasn't normal but I had you. I trained with you. I learned discipline and pride. I listened to the Cat Therianthropes squabble like kids, and I always stole food from your subordinates' trays when they weren't looking. You taught me how to stand and how to listen too. I did have a childhood sure, it wasn't like those of normal kids but I don't regret it you know."
He pulled back and smiled.
"And no, I'm not doing all this just to defeat the Second Generation. That's a goal, sure. But it's not the one that drives me."
He looked upward, into the infinite blue.
"My real goal is to live in peace and find a life where I can rest and some place I can walk down a street with no gods looming over me. I want to make a place my daughters can laugh without worry, where Adelasta doesn't have to suppress her feelings, where Narisva doesn't need to put on that cocky front just to cope, where Elyonari can be more than a mediator. Phaenora can be wild without danger and also Asenane can sleep soundly for once."
He clenched his fist and looked into her eyes.
"And as long as the gods still exist, that future is impossible."
Lysameria looked at her son and saw not a child molded by love, not a tool of vengeance. Her lips trembled as she whispered.
"Thank you."
The ocean pulsed once. Vastarael exhaled, then smirked faintly.
"That tune… it was weirdly catchy, you know."
She finally laughed.
"I had nothing but silence for three hundred days. I had to make something worthwhile."
"You did."
The skies faded from sapphire to gold as the ocean began to shimmer away. Lysameria leaned forward and softly cupped her son's face.
"I can help you reach the Sixth Enlightenment quickly."
Vastarael blinked. His expression faltered into something between disbelief and awe.
"Wait, I'm still at the Third Enlightenment. I'm close to touching the Fourth but the Sixth?"
His voice cracked a bit on the last word. That wasn't something you just "offered." That was a climb that drained even gods, a pinnacle that most never reached and she just said it like offering extra food on his plate. But Lysameria didn't smile this time.
"The Sixth Enlightenment is the threshold where Divinity stops whispering and begins governing. But you're right, it's not linear. But you you have to go beyond that, and soon."
Vastarael stood silently, hands clenched. There was no hesitation in his voice as he replied,
"Then let me train under you. Time doesn't exist here anyway, right? At least not in the normal way."
Her expression brightened.
"That's my dearie."
She walked with him along the translucent ocean, which shimmered now into fragmented reflections.
"What you did to your body… was reckless. But also brilliant."
"You mean the Divinity Tether fusion?"
She nodded.
"Fusing your Divinities of Protection, Love, Water and Justice into your Pinnacle and Base Tethers was a maneuver even ancient gods would fear to attempt. You've weakened their individual potency but you've spread their influence through your body. That cannot be undone. And I couldn't have been more proud that you wove my Divinity of Water into your Aeterium Tethers. That was… more meaningful than you know."
He gave her a soft glance. "It felt like it belonged, like it had always been there."
Lysameria smiled, wiping a tear away.
"With that, you've shortened your need to reach the Sixth Enlightenment. Also, you shortened your need to reach the Seventh Enlightenment to access the Third and Fourth Plenituse Techniques. You've inherited them directly into your flow."
Vastarael exhaled, almost laughing. "That explains the surges. I thought my body was breaking down."
"In a way, it was. But now we rebuild. So here's what we'll do. Your Enlightenment will rise naturally as we train, but the goal isn't only ascension. You need to master three things."
"One, you have to reach the Eighth Circle of Magecraft. Two, master all Four Plenituse Techniques. Three, to learn to wield your Divinity not as a force but as instinct."
Vastarael narrowed his eyes. "Wait. You said magecraft. You've never really… talked about that. Do you know anything about it?"
She looked at him with a smirk that curled like a rising tide.
"No. I never touched magecraft. That domain belongs to your father."
Before he could respond, the entire horizon peeled like a curtain tearing through light. The sky fractured into hexagonal plates of refracted color and the ocean pulled away like drapery into nothingness.