The violet light that had flooded the room slowly began to fade, retreating like the final shimmer of twilight before the deep of night. Nyx knelt beside me, her hands gentle as she watched the transformation unfold. Her eyes shone not just with satisfaction, but awe and then, the Falna appeared.
Etched across my back in intricate detail, it shimmered with a spectral ink that only gods could see. Nyx traced her fingers across it slowly, her touch cool, her movements reverent. Then, without a word, she pulled out a sheet of parchment from her cloak and pressed it carefully against my back.
Her fingers glided up and down, pressing and tracing, capturing the image now branded into my soul. The moment the parchment was sealed, she gently slid off me, kneeling beside the bed again. She held the paper before her, eyes scanning.
"Welcome to my family, Cain." I sat up slowly, blinking away the dizziness and the tingling warmth still running through my skin. Nyx turned the parchment to face me.
"You are… truly blessed," she said with quiet wonder. "Even for my expectations, this is… exceptional. I do not believe most adventurers begin with so much potential." She handed me the paper. I read it slowly, my breath catching in my throat.
Cain Dawnstar : Level 1
Strength: I (0)
Endurance: I (0)
Dexterity: I (0)
Agility: I (0)
Magic: I (0)
-Luck (B)
-Abnormal Resistance (C)
-Elder Blood (I)- (Ancient elven blood with limitless magical potential. Grants unparalleled growth in magic and natural mana affinity. Potential still dormant.)
-Haki(I)- (The user's inner fighting spirit manifests as aura. Reacts to willpower. May evolve.)
-Mind's Eye(I)- (The ability to pierce deception and perceive truth. May occasionally reveal intent, and aura in combat or social situations.)
I stared at the parchment, eyes wide.
Everything I had requested… it was here. The seeds of something powerful—perhaps even legendary. And none of it felt out of place. The Danmachi world's power system had accepted these gifts, woven them into the its divine logic.
I made the right choices, I thought. I looked at Nyx, her midnight hair flowing over her shoulders, and asked, "So… what now? Are they even going to let you stay in Orario?" She smiled, leaning in, brushing a cool kiss across my forehead. "Child," she said softly, "they can't even dream of touching me."
I barely had time to absorb those words before she raised her hand. "Sleep," she whispered, and her fingers danced once through the air before my eyes. The world around me fell into darkness, not heavy or suffocating—but comforting, like a cloak.
Downstairs, in the tavern Nyx descended the staircase with quiet grace. The tavern's warmth had returned, filled now with murmurs, flickers of candlelight, and the quiet clinking of dishes being cleaned.
Mia stood at the base of the steps, arms folded, one eyebrow raised. " Lady you better not have hurt the kid." Nyx's smile was serene. "Of course. He's resting. His soul is adjusting."
Then she turned slightly, her eyes gleaming like starlight. "Would someone escort me to Ouranos?" There was a beat of hesitation. Then, surprisingly, Ottar stepped forward.
His eyes looked to Syr and with a small nod from her, he would say: "I will do it." Nyx inclined her head in thanks, and together the two departed, the doors closing behind them.
Back upstairs Syr and Ryuu entered the room, finding me sleeping soundly in bed, the parchment of my status resting on the nearby table. The Falna tatto across my back fading away. Ryuu walked over first, glancing at the paper. Her sharp eyes scanned the details.
"…Why would he join a Familia with her, what were you thinking Cain?" she muttered. She looked at Syr, unsure. " These are his stats they're good. Too good." Syr, silent for a moment, walked toward the table. She took the paper in hand, eyes quickly flicking across the information—until they froze. Her silver eyes widened, just slightly. She said nothing. Ryuu didn't catch the slip. But Syr felt something twist in her chest.
She knew once this got out all the gods will want to make him theirs. What was worse… he now belonged to someone else. That bitch shouldn't even be here. Freya's fingers tightened ever so slightly at her side as she gently placed the parchment back on the table.
Elsewhere…
The Tower of Babel rose like a pale sword in the center of Orario. At its peak, in the dim chamber beneath the stone, where no sunlight touched, Ouranos sat upon his stone throne, his eyes hidden beneath his hood, unmoving.
Then the heavy stone doors opened. And Nyx walked in behind her, Ottar remained in the shadows, respectful and at the ready. A few minutes later another set of footsteps echoed through the hall. Freya in her true goddess form.
Her silver hair flowed across her back. The room pulsed with the presence of gods. Ouranos slowly raised his head. "You shouldn't be here," he said—calm, but firm.
Nyx simply smiled.
"You should be at the deepest reaches of Tartarus, Nyx."
He stayed seated, as if the sheer weight of his presence could hold her in place. "I thought you said you would sleep until all of creation returned to the void. Why are you awake now, walking freely in this city? That should not be possible."
Nyx tilted her head, a smirk touching her black-glossed lips. "I am here because I choose to be here. And I do not owe you an explanation, old sky." Her silver eyes glinted. "But know this: I have, just a little while ago, created my own Familia. And it will be recognized."
The chamber stirred. Even the stones felt it. Ouranos's eyes widen, the first hint of surprise showing through his eternal calm. He turned toward Freya, who stood silently at the edge of the throne hall.
Freya gave the slightest nod, her eyes gleaming with conflicted frustration. "It's true. She's claimed a soul and placed a Falna. The boy from the Dungeon… the one who appeared two weeks ago." Ouranos exhaled, tone hardening. "So it is him. The child who emerged from nothing within the Dungeon's upper floors."
He composed himself. "What are your intentions, Nyx? For him… and for the world? And how—how could you possibly know how to perform the Falna ritual?"
The temperature in the room dropped. Nyx's silver eyes turned pure black absent of light like the void. Her smile vanished, replaced with something cold expression. Then she spoke—not with her usual softness, but with the authority of a being who existed before the gods had names.
"I learned," she said, voice layered with a thousand whispers, "by watching how many of your precious adventurers and children of the gods died in the depths of the dungeon over the years. As their souls returned to the sky, they passed through me… and I studied every one."
Her gaze bore into Ouranos. "I know your gifts. I know your rituals. I know the weave of your divinity into the mortals of this world and into those vessels to allow you to walk among these mortals." Then she turned back to Freya, whose eyes had narrowed at Nyx's growing power.
"I am here to help that child become what this world has never seen. A man unbound by its limitations and help him achieve his dreams. I will be what he needs whether it be a deity, a mentor, a sister, a mother…"
Her smile returned, this time edged with something sharper.
"Or even lover, if he chooses it." The pressure that exploded from her was immense—thick and oppressive, the very essence of night pressing in on the chamber like it might swallow everything into the void.
Even Ottar, Freya's unwavering shield, instinctively stepped forward and placed himself between Nyx and his mistress, arms loose, ready.
Ouranos gripped his throne, visibly unsettled now. "Are you… and the boy… our enemies?" Nyx's smile turned faintly amused. "No. Not for now, at least. But cross him and you know what beings like me are capable of" She turned, slowly, eyes dancing with predatory delight,
Freya stepped forward. Unlike Ouranos, her voice remained calm, curious. "Why?" she asked. "Why go this far for one mortal soul?"
Nyx's face softened. The void in her eyes flickered out, returning to moonlight silver. Her tone was light again. "Because I love him," she said simply. "And I want to see him achieve everything he desires."
Freya frowned. "Why?"
Nyx smiled and said nothing. That silence was more powerful than any curse.
Ouranos finally spoke again, his voice tight. "You may have forged a Familia… but the rules must still bind you. A god needs a vessel. A body. The fact that no one has died simply from standing near you is a miracle in itself."
Nyx's expression flickered with mirth. "Unlike you little god children, I know how to control my divinity. My presence will not burn mortals unless I will it. Your 'miracle' is called control."
Ouranos grit his teeth. He knew she wasn't lying. In truth, there might've been a way to stop her—if the Zeus and Hera Familias were still active but they would need every huge Familia just to make a dent in her power if we were to be lucky. If the true divine elite of Orario weren't scattered or dead.
With everyone else fractured, even the most powerful god in the city could do nothing. "Where will you stay?" he asked at last. Nyx turned away from them, her cloak trailing like darkness incarnate. "Somewhere close," she replied. "Perhaps beneath Orario itself. Perhaps where you buried your shame and your dead. But I will always be near…"
She glanced sideways at Freya, a faint warning smile on her lips.
"…for my child." Freya's brow twitched. Nyx leaned in slightly, her voice carrying a softness that masked barbs of steel. "You may watch and guide him as well while I do the same. But don't grow attached. The moment he rejects you, and you continue to pursue him against his wishes or try to force yourself on him" Her smile vanished. "I will come."
Freya smirked, brushing a strand of gold hair behind her ear. "You think he's yours? Just wait," she whispered. "I'll help him grow—and he will fall for me."
Nyx didn't respond. She simply turned to Ouranos one last time.
"We're done here."
And then—she was gone. No flash. No teleportation circle. No chant. She was simply no longer there. As if night had simply rolled back over the world and reclaimed her.
Freya stared at the empty space for a long moment before finally speaking. "How did she escape Tartarus…?" She turned her sharp eyes to Ouranos. "…And do we need to worry about Chaos, or Nyx's children too?"
Ouranos slowly lowered his head. "I… don't know."
Freya scoffed. "Useless." She turned away, cloak flaring behind her. "Ottar," she said sharply. He stepped forward and bowed his head. "Yes, Mistress." "Keep an eye on him. And train him," she said. "I trust your methods. Push him—but don't break him to the point he can't recover."
"As you command." And with that, Freya walked away from the throne room, her thoughts a whirlwind of strategy, desire, and irritation.
Elsewhere…
Morning sunlight pierced through the window. I stirred in bed, warm and comfortable.
I opened my eyes slowly—only to realize I was nestled between two very soft, very cool cushions. Nyx. Her arms were around me, holding me gently, like I was something sacred. Her black hair was draped across the pillows like a blanket of night.
She was smiling in her sleep and I was in her chest. "What the hell happened ," I whispered into the void.