I woke up in a pile of blankets that may or may not have been stitched from shadows and lint gremlins.
Groggy. Confused.
I dragged myself to the bathroom, took a scalding hot shower that steamed the stone walls like a dragon's breath, brushed my teeth with a bone-handled brush, and stared at myself in the mirror for a good hour.
Staring contest: me vs. the abyss behind my eyes.
[Grey]: I win again.
My red eyes pulsed once. Time Eye blinked. Or maybe Death did. Hard to tell.
Then I finally opened the chat window.
Dozens of messages flooded in, including the most cursed one of all:
[Slime are Cute]: GUYS. I'M PREGNANT!! With TWINS!!
I stared. Blinked. Scrolled.
[The Overpowered Shield Hero]: OMG CONGRATS!! Who's the other parent??!!
[War Healer]: …What? How. Who allowed this? I leave for one day, and this happens.
[Slime are Cute]: It was a magic slime egg incident, long story!
I stared harder.
The letters on the screen started melting like candle wax, and the words slithered off into the corners of my vision.
Everything turned a bit... gooey.
Then the ceiling cracked open and a giant plush version of myself leaned in and whispered:
[Plush Grey]: You're dreaming, idiot.
I gasped—
—and snapped awake.
This time, for real.
On my bed. Under the sea. The cave glowed faintly from bioluminescent moss. One of the babies was asleep on my chest, drooling happily. Another was floating upside down near the ceiling, spinning slowly. The third was eating part of my pillow.
The chat was gone.
No pregnant slime lord. No weird emoji spam. No congratulatory cake gifs.
Just me. Just the babies. Just the room.
I lay back down.
[Grey]: Thank the abyss. That was almost too surreal even for me.
The pillow-eater belched a spark.
I sighed, peeled the baby off my chest like a mildly radioactive sticker, and trudged into the kitchen.
Opened the fridge.
Inside: chaos.
Jars of void honey. Pickled starfish. A half-eaten deep-sea whale wrapped in black kelp. Still cold. Still judging me.
I dragged it out, hacked off a few good slabs, and tossed them on the heat. Added eggs—crimson-yolked ones from those abyss hens I genetically spliced ages ago—and threw in some glowing sea-vegetables for color. A dash of soul salt. A hint of pepper made from actual nightmares.
The smell?
Criminally divine.
By the time I was done, the table was a steaming battlefield of flavors: sizzling void-steak, floating rainbow fruit salad, sizzling golden eggs, and grilled mushrooms that hummed gently when no one looked.
I threw a bone-shaped spoon across the room.
[Grey]: HEY. DINNER'S READY! GET OVER HERE YOU MIDGETS!
There was a pause.
Then the stampede came—one floated, one crawled upside-down across the ceiling, and one teleported via a puff of glitter-smoke.
The first baby came tumbling in like a drunken cannonball, wings flapping out of sync. It crash-landed into a chair and blinked up at the table with pure, unfiltered joy.
The second floated in like a ghostly balloon—head upside-down, arms limp, and spinning like a mobile of doom. It hovered over the rainbow fruit salad like a summoned god and screeched triumphantly.
The third… crawled in slowly, dragging the now mostly-digested remains of my pillow, eyes glowing with the quiet menace of a baby that's seen too much.
I set a fork in front of each of them.
They stared at it.
[Grey]: No. We use tools in this household.
The floating one bit the fork in half.
[Grey]: …Fine. Do whatever.
I took a seat, cut into my steak, and tried to pretend this was normal. It wasn't. But pretending kept the insanity manageable.
The pillow-eater gnawed like a champion—tiny milk teeth clinking off the stone.
The floating one sneezed with a choo! So powerful, it turned the rainbow salad into a spiky prism of crystallized fruit. It hovered proudly over its accidental masterpiece, then immediately tried to eat it, chewing the ice with a satisfied crunch like a baby shark in a candy store.
I sighed and stood up, scooping them up one by one.
First, I pried the table-biter off the wood, cradling it gently. Then the winged one, who latched onto my back like a hungry barnacle. The third—my little wolf-eared gremlin—was already curling around my arm like a scarf made of warm chaos.
I sat down and began feeding them small bites from every dish. Meat slices, scrambled eggs, soft sweetroot, grilled bone marrow, and fruit. One by one, their energy ran out. The table-chewer yawned so hard their wings drooped. The spark-belcher curled into my shoulder, humming in their sleep. And the last, with those haunting red X-pupils and twitching wolf ears, hugged my arm tightly like it was their entire world.
They stuck to me like enchanted glue.
One on the back.
One on my arm.
One on my leg.
Like emotionally needy barnacles.
I tried to pull the last one off gently. The one with the ears and the sad, glowing eyes. As soon as I managed to shift him, he blinked up at me, lip trembling, pupils dilating like twin red stars cracking in slow motion.
Tears welled up.
[Grey]: Whoa, hey hey—no. Don't do that. No sad sparkle bombs. I'll be back, okay?
He blinked.
[Grey]: I'm not abandoning you. I just need to go… destroy some stuff. But I'll return. Promise.
He tilted his head slightly… then opened his mouth, and with the softest, cutest voice—
[Baby]: …Mama.
I froze.
Right there. Mid-movement. Time may have stopped. My abyssal aura curled back into my chest in sheer panic and confusion.
My heart just took a critical hit from a 3-inch-tall eldritch war orphan.
My knees locked. My wings twitched. My pupils dilated.
[Grey]: N-no. Nuh-uh. Nope. Not emotionally equipped.
Ammar stepped through the entrance, arms full of glowing scrolls and ceremonial tea. He blinked at me. Smiled.
I didn't hesitate.
I threw the three clingy voidlings at him like sentient plushies.
[Grey]: YOUR PROBLEM NOW.
[Ammar]: Wait—My Lady—
I leapt from the cave entrance like a fleeing comet, bursting into the abyssal waters with the speed of panic and shame. A trail of air bubbles followed behind me like cartoon dust.
The silence of the deep sea welcomed me like an old friend.
Weightless. Quiet. Safe.
Far away from baby teeth and dangerous feelings.
But deep down, I knew… I'd be back.
You don't just walk away from a child who calls you "Mama."
Even if they chew through your furniture.
But I had other things to do now. Old threads to pull. Names to check off. The Hellsong Guild… and Dave.
I hadn't seen them since the Civil War.
So, I flew.
The sea gave way to sky, and the sky bent to my will. I donned the crest of House Walpurgis on my chest like a war medal made fashionable.
Then I saw it.
The Imperial Capital.
Still towering. Still bloated with gold, politics, and hypocrisy. The gates swarmed with travelers—traders, nobles, adventurers, desperate commoners, and more than a few suspicious players wearing fake mustaches and budget armor.
I descended slowly, letting my aura curl around me like fog. My feet hit the ground with a whisper, and silence fell in my immediate radius—like the world inhaled and forgot how to exhale.
Then came the idiot.
[Guard]: Halt! Identify yourself, monster!
He jabbed his spear at me with the grace of a drunken goat. His partner, however—a player, judging by the floating name above his head—was visibly pale, eyes locked on me like he'd seen a bug-infested god crawl out of his hard drive.
I calmly raised the Walpurgis badge and presented it.
The guard stepped forward, took it from my hand... smiled—and then, like a fool destined to die painfully, slipped it into his pocket.
[Guard]: MONSTER ATTACK! CALL THE OTHERS! RING THE BELL!
The player guard ran. The other players ran. Even a few NPCs turned tail and sprinted.
I stared.
Slowly. Calmly.
[Grey]: Well, well, well... Someone just disrespected the head of House Walpurgis.
I stepped forward.
[Grey]: And as Duchess of this Empire... I'm legally required to kill you.
Before he could scream again, I kicked him.
Hard.
Reality shuddered. His armor crumpled like paper. His insides briefly became outsides, and his lungs did a very dramatic pirouette before flopping to the ground. Silence fell again.
Just the sound of bubbling gore and the wind against my cloak.
Then—
[???]: Madam Grey? Is that really you?
I turned.
There he was—Dave. Still somehow alive. Still somehow Dave. Next to him stood a giant cockroach in a waistcoat (which I decided not to ask about yet), and his old friend Jon, holding what looked suspiciously like a nuke-sized potion bottle.
Dave waved sheepishly.
[Dave]: We were just, uh, sightseeing?
[Grey]: Through the Capital's corpse pile?
[Dave]: ...In spirit.
I smiled.
They smiled.
The cockroach bowed.
And just like that, we walked together toward the Imperial Palace, passing terrified guards and bowing nobles. I let my presence speak for me. My steps left behind small patches of frost and shadow. The people whispered, bowed, or fainted as I passed.
Inside the palace gates, a footman tried to stop us.
He opened his mouth.
He saw my eyes.
He closed his mouth.
He opened the door.
Good boy.
[Grey]: So, Dave, what did I miss while I was gone?
[Dave]: Oh. You know. The usual. Gods woke up and went feral, someone summoned a kaiju, Jon dated a sentient grenade for two weeks, and the Emperor tried to marry a golem.
[Grey]: ...Did it work?
[Dave]: They're expecting lava twins.
I stared at him. He wasn't joking.
I blinked once. Twice.
[Grey]: …The Emperor married a golem. A lava-based golem. And now they're expecting children.
[Dave]: Yeah. Apparently, love is volcanic.
I wanted to scream, laugh, and throw a reality-warping tantrum—but I didn't. Because honestly? After everything I'd seen, it didn't even crack the top ten weirdest events of the year.
I sighed.
[Grey]: You know, I did kill the Emperor's son. But this? This might be the actual punishment.
Still, I couldn't argue with the results. A lava-themed dynasty was weird, but hey, maybe the fireproof tax code would work in my favor.
[Dave]: He copes with grief through… industrial romance, apparently.
[Grey]: Dave… I really hope you're next in line to rule.
[Dave]: Funny you should say that…
He scratched the back of his head nervously. Jon was whistling like someone trying not to be noticed in a horror movie. The roach just kept sipping tea from a tiny porcelain cup balanced on one leg.
Then Dave's expression grew serious.
[Dave]: Miss Grey, I almost forgot. Please… help us.
He gestured to a floating, glitching map display hovering beside him. The entire north was marked in flickering red.
[Dave]: An evil god's destroying the northern regions. Cities are vanishing. People are melting. And our forces are stretched thin."
[Dave]: The east is a warzone—we're barely holding the front against the Chinese server's Republic of Eternal Order.
[Dave]: The West is a theocratic nightmare. Gods and cults are ripping each other apart—and the land with them.
[Dave]: And the south? We're bleeding trade routes. Pirates, rebels, a fleet of angry sea witches—you name it.
His eyes met mine.
[Dave]: But… if you help us, I'll give you full control of the northern coastline. Everything near your territory. It's yours.
My eyes glimmered. That was what I came for. The land. The sea. A place to protect the little midges who called me Mama. And with my [Create Kin] skill… it was time to build a haven of nightmares, safety, and occasionally ice cream.
A grin crawled across my face.
My tentacles slipped free from my back—fluid, shimmering with hollowed dread.
The Void bloomed in my eyes, turning them into depthless orbs of haunting power. My aura curdled the air, and the floor cracked beneath my feet.
People in the palace screamed and ran. Nobles wet themselves.
But not Dave.
He smiled, cool as ever.
[Grey]: Hope I didn't scar you.
[Dave]: No, Miss Grey. Compared to everything else I've seen… this is honestly kinda cute.
[Jon]: F#### furries.
I ignored that.
With a lazy wave, a portal cracked open beside me—hollow light spilling out like oil on fire and starlight reversed. I stepped through.
One hour. That's all I needed.
South: Pirates? Erased. Their backers? Exposed—the West, of course. Hypocrisy and holy fire always make fine bedfellows.
West: Welcomed me with open arms and closed eyes. The United Pantheon bowed. Begrudgingly.
East: The "Republic of Eternal Order" is no more. I renamed it myself before I left—The Dragon Empire. Every day is a new betrayal, and the backstabbing is practically a sport. They'll fit right in.
Now all that remained was the North.
Where he sat.
The wind howled.
The sky above the north cracked with black lightning, torn between realities.
Snow fell, then ash.
Across a plain of shattered cities and frozen corpses, I stood in front of the last problem.
He looked ten.
His voice was ancient.
He sat upon a throne of bones, carved from monsters and men alike. Hollowed eyes stared into mine—mirrors of my own... but twisted.
Two insectoid antennae twitched from his head, sensitive to rage, grief, and the weight of vengeance.
[Evil God]: Will, will, will… looks like you've finally arrived to see me, Mother.
That word hit me like a hammer.
Mother.
[Grey]: …I don't remember giving birth to you.
He grinned with fangs too sharp for a child. A twisted mimicry of innocence.
[Evil God]: B####. You abandoned us. You scattered us across dimensions like trash. We survived without you. And now? We remember.
The skies screamed above him as thousands of skeletal wings unfurled behind the throne.
[Evil God]: The others and I swore to find you. Swore to kill you. For leaving us alone in broken, hostile worlds. FOR GETTING TO START OVER WHILE WE BLED.
He raised one small, clawed hand.
Reality behind him fractured. Dozens of faint silhouettes—others like him—watched from behind the veil. Forgotten offspring? Echoes? Reflections?
My chest tightened. My instincts screamed.
[Evil God]: Now DIE, B####!
The ground detonated in a bloom of black fire.
I didn't move.
Let the fire hit.
Let it burn.
It peeled back my illusion, my stitched cloak of half-truths and nightmares.
My real form stepped through the smoke.
Tall. Inhuman. Crowned with coral and bone. Wings of void extending beyond the concept of "sky." Tentacles rippling through the fabric of space. A single horn glowing white-hot.
And my eyes…
Time and Death both awakened, overlapping in layered rings.
My voice broke the firestorm with quiet gravity.
[Grey]: If I abandoned you, it was because I didn't know you existed. If you were made from my power… then let me do what all mothers do best. Clean up the mess.
Behind me, the sea began to rise.
Behind that, the stars began to dim.
And above all, my [Hollowed Abyss Sting of Death] flickered into my hand, shaped like a god's executioner blade, humming with sins I hadn't even committed yet.
[Grey]: Let's make this quick, little god. Mama's got midges to feed.
[Chapter end]