With the Mask of Silence, an artifact crafted by the goddess of silence that has the ability to conceal divine aura, I teleported to Nexus City.
Physical appearance doesn't matter; gods recognize each other by their divine aura, and this is why my kids still confuse Vicky with me, even with her dragon form—they still feel "me" in her.
That is understandable; after all, my sister and I are twins. Our souls are intertwined; we are two halves of the same whole.
Anyway, I didn't use the mask to fully conceal my divine aura; that would be out of place in the city of the gods. I simply changed into the wolf form and used the mask to "scramble" my aura to make me appear as a lesser god of wolves or something similar.
I didn't want to cause a scene.
The last thing I needed was a bunch of fangirls throwing themselves at me, asking for my signature in... very spicy places. I love my fans, but I have a quest to complete, and my sister to fuck.
The Nexus City was exactly as I remembered it: a dazzling, hyper-maximalist monument to divine ego and rampant capitalism. It was built from... no fucking idea... reinforced with the despair of a thousand dying worlds, and policed by bored, oversized gods with ridiculously perfect hair.
I padded forward on silent paws, my claws clicking softly on the pristine white stone streets.
Everywhere I looked, there were gods. Big gods, small gods, old gods, new gods, gods with too many arms, gods with too many eyes, gods with too many... everything.
Are there gods with too many cocks and pussies?
That would probably be me.
I mean, I can grow as many as I want and change any part of my body. The goddess of breeding is nothing if not generous.
"Good for me," I muttered to myself, my tail wagging slightly.
People noticed me. They just didn't recognize me.
Good.
A pair of fox-eared goddesses paused mid-conversation as I passed, noses twitching.
"Do you feel that?" one asked.
"Probably a regional spirit," the other shrugged. "Smells… territorial."
I smirked internally.
Correct on all counts, sweetheart. Just not your territory.
I kept moving, taking the portal to the red district, where I swiftly made my way to the Scarlet Den brothel. The building was the same as I remembered it, a massive, opulent structure that reeked of sex, power, and expensive perfume.
As soon as I stepped inside, the lovely scent of the place, a mixture of sweat, cum, and a dozen other things, made me feel at home.
The brothel was busy, filled with gods and goddesses of all shapes and sizes, indulging in their desires.
Sadly, I had to ignore everything. I slipped inside a private room that I hired and pulled out the red card, calling the big Minotaur god.
...
Ten minutes of waiting passed.
The silence in the room was broken by a deep, resonant voice that seemed to vibrate through the very walls.
"Ah!... Morgana, I thought you would never call."
The door to the private room swung open, revealing the hulking form of the Minotaur god. His muscular frame filled the doorway, and his eyes, a fierce golden hue, locked onto mine. He had the body of a man, but the head of a bull, complete with massive horns that curved proudly from his brow.
"Hey," I purred, my voice laced with a mix of amusement and desire. "Always a pleasure to see you."
I stood up, walked to him, and pressed my body against his, my hands resting on his chest.
"Sorry, I was... busy these past months, so I couldn't call," I looked up at him, my eyes meeting his.
"You seem to be... different, but the same," he said, a curious glint in his golden eyes, his nostrils flaring as he took in my scent.
"Enough about me," I waved my hand dismissively, and with a flick of my wrist, the glowing disc materialized in my palm.
His breath hitched. His massive shoulders went rigid. The raw, primal energy that radiated from him sharpened, focusing on that small, pulsing light like a hawk zeroing in on its prey.
"He's ready," I said simply. "He's strong. Focused. He's yours. And he will be a king."
The Minotaur god didn't reach for the disc. He fell to one knee. The stone floor cracked under the impact. He lowered his head in a gesture of respect so profound, so filled with reverence, it even gave me pause.
"My queen," he rumbled, the title a prayer, a vow, a thunderclap in the quiet room. "You have fulfilled your end of our bargain. You have given me an heir."
He finally looked up, and in those molten golden eyes, I saw not just lust, but a fierce, protective pride. He was looking at me, the mother of his son, the goddess who had granted him a legacy.
"He will be more than a king," I said, my voice soft but firm. "He will be a god. He is our son."
To be fair, I planned to give him plenty of threats, you know, some "if you dare to hurt him, I'll feed you your own balls" kind of talk.
But seeing him like this, so humble, so... proud, it felt wrong. It felt like I would be insulting him, insulting our son.
"He is a warrior already. I can feel it," he said, his gaze still locked on the disc. "I shall train him myself. He will learn the ways of our people, the strength of our blood, the honor of our name."
Honor. Huh. What a fascinating concept. But hearing it from him, from a god who embodied it so completely, it didn't sound so hollow.
"See that you do," I said, my voice regaining its usual teasing lilt. "I expect regular updates and visits in the future. I don't like being away from my kids."
"Of course, my queen," he said, a small smile playing on his lips.
I placed the disc in his outstretched palm. Our fingers brushed, and a jolt of pure divine energy passed between us. Then he took out an orb similar to the communication orbs that I bought from the shops and gave it to me.
"This is linked to my world; you'll be able to speak to him whenever you like," he said, his voice low and husky.
"Good." I smiled, taking the orb and placing it in my inventory.
He held the disc for a moment, and I saw a flicker of something in his eyes—a deep, abiding love, a joy so pure it was almost painful to witness.
"Thank you, Morgana," he said, my name on his lips sounding like a sacred vow. "You have given me everything."
"And you gave me a very memorable afternoon," I countered with a smirk, my tail swishing playfully. "We're even."
"Hehehe," he chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that shook the room.
"Not even close," he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"I wish you good fortune in the wars to come," I said, my expression serious.
He knew what I was talking about, but he simply stood up, and with a final, respectful nod, he turned and walked out of the room, leaving me alone with the lingering scent of him and the echo of his words.
"Well, that was unexpectedly... wholesome," I muttered to myself.
I stood there for a moment, feeling a strange mix of emotions—pride, satisfaction, and a weird, maternal ache that I wasn't used to.
I had sent my son away to be a king. I had fulfilled my promise. I had done a good thing.
And I hated it.
It was so... boring.
"Sigh... I need dicking," I whined, my tail drooping.
After that business was sorted out, I didn't linger inside the den. I swiftly made my way toward Lucy's gaming hub, where I planned to meet Katarina and use her pink cat sticker to teleport to Lora's world.
Mine was destroyed when I broke through the portal.
Lora's condition was... not good.
The worst part was that it wasn't a physical condition, but a mental one.
She was stuck in a loop of reliving her trauma over and over again. Her mind was a prison, and for more than five months, she locked herself inside her temple, refusing to see anyone.
Katarina and Lucy were unable to break through to her. All they could do was stand there and hear her cries that never stopped.
I hoped my presence could.
When I got there, I found Lucy sitting on a comfy sofa with a gaming console in her hands, but she didn't seem in the mood to play games, just staring blankly at the screen.
Katarina was sitting next to her with a bottle of wine.
"You look like you've been chewing on a lemon for a week," I said, making my presence known.
"Hiii!!" Lucy jumped, dropping her controller. "Morgana! Don't sneak up on me like that!"
"I wasn't sneaking," I said innocently. "I was just walking. You're the one who's too busy brooding to notice a giant wolf goddess."
"We're not brooding," Katarina retorted, taking a long sip of her wine. "We're... processing."
"..."
"It's that bad?" I asked, even though the look on their faces said it all.
"You have no idea," Lucy said, her voice barely a whisper. "Lora... she's... she's not getting better. She's getting worse."
She didn't say more, but the unspoken words hung heavy in the air.
"She just... cries. All day, all night. The same words, over and over again. 'My fault.' 'I'm sorry.' 'I should have been stronger.'" Lucy's shoulders slumped, her usual vibrant energy dimmed to a flicker.
Katarina sighed, swirling the dark red liquid in her glass.
"We've tried everything. We've talked to her. We've brought her favorite foods, but nothing worked."
"She just... cries," Lucy continued, her voice cracking. "Sometimes she screams. Sometimes she just... whispers. But the words are always the same."
I let out a slow breath, the warm, familiar anger coiling in my gut. The one that had driven me to shatter worlds and slay gods. The one that was currently simmering just beneath my skin, waiting for a target.
"Alright," I said, my voice flat. "Let's go. Open the portal. I need to see Lora."