Chapter 895: 895
It pleased Ikenga deeply to watch the primates slowly, methodically plug the glaring vulnerabilities in the current world of Nana. Up until now, technology outside of mana was a massive blind spot, a fact that could easily be exploited if they met a technological world who have a deep understanding of mana. But now, by laying the groundwork for a disciplined, capable technological civilization, the primates were ensuring that their world could truly stand on its own two feet to face whatever cataclysmic challenges the future held.
With those designs resting comfortably in his mind, Ikenga’s attention drifted down to his side, locking onto his young son, Ikelos.
It had been sometime since the birth of his second child, and looking at the boy copying his exact lounging posture brought a warm, genuinely amused smile to Ikenga’s face. He suddenly remembered the hilarious, rigid tension that used to grip Kele’s shoulders every time she looked at the newborn.
Because the origin godlings themselves had been birthed into existence as fully formed, mature adults, Keles had been absolutely terrified that the baby would suddenly, violently sprout into a giant adult right before their eyes. She had spent months walking on eggshells around the cradle, waiting for a sudden magical growth spurt that never came.
Ikenga chuckled softly at the memory, ruffling Ikelos’s hair.
As time passed, their son stayed exactly the way he was, a cute, tiny, fragile baby. Even Ikenga couldn’t help but breathe a secret sigh of relief alongside Keles.
His goal with this second true child of his had been completely different. He wanted to take his time, to genuinely make a connection and build a deep, emotional relationship from infancy, something he had never truly managed to do with his firstborn, Ikem. While his relationship with Ikem was still great and filled with mutual respect, Ikenga knew that he had been more of a stern teacher and an instructor to Ikem than he had ever been a father. Almost every waking moment they had shared was spent preparing the boy for the inevitable, brutal day he would finally leave the safety of his realm.
With Ikelos, he had almost made that exact same mistake. Ikenga had a strong, instinctual feeling that if the people around the boy had expected a fully grown god, the boy would have shifted to accommodate them. Born gods like themselves were hyper-receptive to the expectations and conceptual pressures of their surroundings, they molded themselves to the realities of their environment.
But as the months bled into a year, a new, quiet anxiety began to creep into the minds of Ikenga and Keles regarding their son’s divine nature. As a born god, Ikelos possessed a direct tether to the cosmic laws. The parents began to worry, "Did their child, like them, have his own realm?"
If he did, why hadn’t they seen a single spark of it? There were no fluctuations of space around the boy. The unsettling thought lingered heavily between them, an unspoken question mark hanging over the cradle.
Until one day, the silence of the palace was shattered.
Keles was sitting in her grand obsidian throne room, tending to the vast, grinding logistics of the dead, when a distant, piercing sound echoed through the halls. It was the unmistakable, distressed sound of a baby crying.
In a flash of divine authority, Keles vanished from the throne room and materialized instantly inside Ikelos’s nursery, where he was supposed to be fast asleep.
The room was completely empty. The beautifully crafted cradle sat still, the blankets undisturbed. Her son was nowhere to be seen. Yet, the air itself thrummed with the sound. Keles stood frozen in the center of the room, her heart tightening in a way it never had before, as she heard her baby crying out loud, his voice echoing clearly through the empty room, yet completely severed from a physical realm.
The sudden wave of sheer panic that shot through their tether hit Ikenga like a physical blow. He didn’t hesitate for a fraction of a second. Leaving his own realm behind, he ripped through the boundaries of space and materialized in the Underworld, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with Keles in the quiet nursery.
She was standing perfectly still, her eyes locked onto a seemingly empty patch of air. Ikenga followed her gaze, focusing his divine sight. There, layered directly over the physical reality of the room, was a tear in space. Visible through the distortion was a small empty plane of pale sand stretching out into an unnatural horizon. Right at the dead center of that barren desert sat tiny Ikelos, completely overwhelmed by confusion, bawling his heart out.
Instinct overtaking logic, Ikenga stepped forward, his hand reaching out to forcefully tear the space open and pull his son back into the room.
Before his fingers could touch the rift, Keles’s hand shot out, gripping his wrist. She shook her head slowly, her expression tight.
"I think that is his realm... the one we have been looking for this whole time," Keles said. Her voice was laced with a forced, unnatural calmness, but the tremor of panic underneath was undeniable.
"I am happy we can finally see it," she continued, her grip on his wrist tightening. "But we cannot force our way through. Even if we have the power to break it open, we can’t. He has to be the one to let us in, or we risk fracturing his mind and hurting our boy."
Hearing her words, Ikenga’s expression completely froze. In his frantic desperation to protect his son, he had completely forgotten the fragile, volatile nature of a newborn god’s nascent domain. Forcing their way inside with their massive, heavy conceptual presences could easily crush the infant’s spiritual foundation.
As the two gods stood in the center of the silent nursery, unsure of what action to take, a slow, scraping sound dragged across the obsidian floor.
Down by their feet, the pet tortoise that Krogan had gifted to Ikenga so long ago was slowly marching past them. It paid no mind to the swirling panic of the deities. With tranquil deliberate steps, the tortoise approached the shimmering rift and gently nudged the edge of the distorted space with its shell.
Through the transparent tear, Ikenga and Keles watched in silence as their son suddenly reacted.
Ikelos’s crying hitched. He paused, wiping his eyes with a chubby fist, his face filled with confusion as he felt the faint, comforting vibration of the nudge ripple through his realm. Wiping away his tears, the little boy wobbled unsteadily onto his feet. Balancing himself with his arms out, he began to take small, hesitant steps forward toward the boundary.
Right before their eyes, the air in the nursery rippled like the surface of a disturbed pond.
Ikelos stepped cleanly through the veil, his tiny feet touching the solid floor of the nursery once more as the barren desert plane vanished behind him. Still sniffling slightly, his small hand reached out immediately, patting the shell of his pet tortoise. The heavy, suffocating silence of the room broke as the boy let out a tiny, relieved coo, completely unaware of the panic he had just given both of his parents.
Watching Ember work, Ikenga patted the head of his son before his presence smoothly shifted out of Keles’s realm. In the very next instant, he materialized within the domain of Tide.
Tide’s current realm looked vastly different than it had during his last visit. Welcoming him stood Tide himself, draped in a magnificent, golden-plated robe and adorned with heavy jewelry that caught the light of his changing domain.
"You look to be doing well," Ikenga said with a genuine smile.
Tide laughed, flashing a rows of shark-like teeth that had also been meticulously plated in gold. "I have had a lot of unfiltered faith to digest since we last met, Uncle," he replied, his tone vibrant and brimming with power and purpose.
He led Ikenga back toward his grand palace, where the two of them sat down. Wasting no time on empty formalities, Ikenga asked, "How are things coming along?"
If he truly wanted to, Ikenga could have simply leaned into the omniscience part of his heritage, to know and be aware of everything happening. But doing so would eliminate the need for communication and communication was the very foundation of the relationship he was trying to build with Tide.
Tide heard the question and furrowed his brow, a shadow crossing his face. "It is going great... but the progress is too slow."
Ikenga remained silent, offering an attentive nod to let him continue.
"Due to the nature of the plan, I can’t order the worshippers among my merfolk godlings to act for me," Tide explained, frustration bleeding into his voice. "I am forced to depend entirely on my human worshippers."
He leaned forward, adjusting a piece of his heavy gold jewelry. "They do as I say, but a closer look shows they are becoming deeply curious. They are questioning my sudden, increased attention toward them, and why I am initiating such frequent response and communication."
