The mont I hit [Yes], reality tore itself open in a blinding whirl of gold and black light. My stomach gave a single rebellious lurch—then the sensation was gone, replaced by weightlessness.
Space.
I floated in a place that wasn't space as mortals knew it—no empty void, no dead silence. The Nexus City lay before , suspended in an endless canvas of suns, nebula, moons, drifting constellations, and worlds without nas, every distant point glittering like diamonds scattered on a canvas of velvet darkness. A stream of souls flickered in the air around like dancing fireflies, rging into one giant column that pulsed with warm golden light.
It wasn't just a city—it was THE city. The heartbeat of godhood. A place built in the fucking space for beings like … and the ones arrogant enough to think they were above .
Eir appeared after , her black wings flaring slightly in awe.
"It's… beautiful," she murmured, voice low as her silver hair caught starlight.
"It's big, yes," I smirked. "But you're prettier."
"Th-Thank you, M-Mother." Eir smiled. Her skin flushed a faint, embarrassed pink, yet she couldn't hide the joyful bounce of her wings. She loved it when I praised her, especially when my words were sweet and deceptively innocent.
We descended through a circular gate of pure light, the kind of thing that would have disintegrated a mortal into glitter just for looking at it wrong. My feet landed softly on marble inlaid with rivers of liquid gold, and for a brief mont, I let myself take it in—the sheer scale of the Nexus. Streets the width of rivers wound between temples, palaces, and towers so tall they vanished into clouds of nebula dust. Floating bridges arched over plazas, connecting the city's levels like strands of a divine spiderweb.
And then ca the sound. The noise of thousands of gods gathered in one place.
The main square stretched out before us like an ocean of divinity. Armored war gods with swords taller than buildings. Delicate beauty gods in gowns that shimred like liquid petals. Bestial gods, their bodies part-animal, part-cosmic horror. Elental deities wreathed in fire, storm, and stone.
The air itself pulsed with power. Divine auras clashed like colliding storms, each god subtly—and not-so-subtly—flaring their presence to see who would flinch first. Mortals would have been reduced to ash in a heartbeat just by breathing this atmosphere.
"By my holy tits…" I muttered under my breath. "They really rolled out the entire pantheon zoo."
Then I started giggling like a maniac, unable to hold the excitent in.
Just imagining a few of these self-important peacocks bent over for a punishnt made my cock hard enough to punch through my divine bikini.
Eir's wing brushed against my back, a subtle reminder that now was not the ti to be drooling over hypothetical conquests. I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing out loud again.
Still… The possibilities.
My gaze swept the crowd like a predator sizing up a buffet. A goddess of the hunt, draped in furs and shadows, t my eyes with a wolfish grin that promised trouble. A sun god, his skin molten gold and eyes like flares, gave a slow once-over and tilted his head in approval. A trio of storm-blooded warlords, each radiating enough killing intent to drown a continent, whispered among themselves and kept glancing my way.
Other gods that I had no idea what their race was, their appearances ranging from the cute to the terrifying, seed equally interested.
A goddess wrapped in white veils whispered sothing to the god beside her, her eyes sliding over my body like she was already imagining in her bed—or under her heel. A war god with skin like bronze and four arms openly sized up like prey.
I smiled at them both. Slowly.
Good. Let them notice . Let them wonder if I'm here to shake hands… or cocks... Hehehehe!
Eir's hand found the hilt of her black-and-gold spear, her posture perfect, radiating the kind of disciplined grace that could make even the cockiest deity think twice before picking a fight. She was my shadow, my war, and—if necessary—the one who'd carve a bloody path through this crowd should anyone forget whose presence they were in.
The main square's dais lood ahead, a monolithic platform of black stone veined with molten light, each pulse beating in ti with the Nexus itself. The divine architecture wasn't just built—it was alive. Every carved glyph shimred with the breath of creation, every glowing vein humd with enough power to birth stars.
And standing on it was… a puppet?
Not taphorical. Not "Oh, that guy's just a puppet for soone else's power." No. This was a literal, strings-attached, wood-and-fabric puppet.
It or 'He' wore a perfectly pressed butler's outfit, black tailcoat, crisp white gloves, and polished shoes that clicked sharply against the stone as it walked. A thick, curled mustache twitched with every wordless hum, and a single golden monocle glead over one glassy eye.
The thing's jaw didn't move when it spoke. Instead, its voice—smooth, deep, and unnervingly polite—rolled out of the air itself, bypassing the ears entirely and vibrating in the soul.
"Esteed divinities, I am pleased to welco you all to this Gathering of the Gods."
The words weren't loud, yet they reached every corner of the square, slipping into the mind like a whisper in an empty room.
Around , the crowd went still—thousands, maybe millions, of beings with the power to erase worlds, standing in perfect, unnatural silence.
The puppet's glassy eyes swept over us, pausing here and there as though evaluating the worth of those present. When they landed on , they stayed for a beat too long.
I smiled back, slow and deliberate.
'I wonder if I could breed a puppet?'
Hehe... Just the thought of the tiny wooden body buried between my thighs had squirming.
"My na," the puppet continued, "is Number Seven, the appointed voice and moderator of this convocation. I speak on behalf of the Nexus."
'Number Seven?' I narrowed my eyes. 'What kind of fucking na is that?'
The puppet raised a hand, and a massive holographic screen materialized behind him. A series of floating numbers appeared. So of the gods around narrowed their eyes, staring at the first row of numbers.
"In the last one hundred years we had," Number Seven spoke again, "one thousand, nine hundred and sixty newborn gods."
'Wow! That's a lot of gods.' I raised an eyebrow, not expecting that number, but again, my horny mind shifted to the "1960" new opportunities to fuck that the universe gave .
Then another number appeared on the screen behind him.
"In the last one hundred years we suffered," Number Seven spoke again, "five thousand, four hundred and six fallen gods."
"!!!" The puppet's words shocked the crowd, making so of them gasp in surprise, including .
5406 dead gods!
I wasn't sure which hit harder—the sheer size of the number, or the fact that the Nexus was saying it like they were announcing a grocery sale. Or maybe the fact that gods could be killed. I noted that from the keyword 'suffered' that the puppet said.
"That's… nearly triple the newborn count," Eir murmured, her voice low so only I could hear.
"Shit, the void is eating us more than normal."
Suddenly, I began hearing the whispers. The crowd of gods was murmuring among themselves.
"Can't this be a mistake?"
"No, it's true."
"So many dead..."
"This is higher than the last ti."
The only thing that I did was to listen, gathering any information about the situation, and just when we gods thought that the puppet was done speaking, he opened his mouth and continued.
"In the last one hundred years we had," Number Seven spoke again, "one new ascended god."
"..."
Silence.
The word dropped into the crowd like a stone into still water, and the ripples were imdiate.
For a heartbeat, no one moved. Not a single twitch of a wing, not a flicker of divine aura. Even the elental gods' ever-churning flas and storms froze in place, suspended in the mont. The only sound was the faint hum of the Nexus itself, like the city was holding its breath.
Then… a ripple of motion, starting at the edges and sweeping toward the dais.
"A new god ascended."
"What?!"
"Are you kidding ?!"
"This is a joke, right?!"
"It's true..."
"Impossible…"
"No… not impossible… terrifying."
Ascended.
A single god, born from mortality, climbing the impossible steps into true divinity. Not granted. Not created. Not born from a pantheon's loins. Earned.
One lucky bastard had done the impossible.
"Hehehe, look at their shocked faces." I giggled to myself, a shit-eating grin forming on my face. "I wonder who's the lucky bastard that ascended."
[...]
[Really?!... Morgana] Herma's voice suddenly echoed in my head. [Are you stupid or pretending to be stupid?]
"..."
'Oops!!' I said, flashing an innocent look. 'I forgot that the lucky bastard was ... Tehe'
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