The five women lounged close to Vastarael as he sat in the center of them, as if the universe had arranged them around him like constellations. Then, as if realization had finally dawned in slow, quiet awe, Vastarael exhaled and muttered:
"I really have five women…"
They all turned to look at him.
"Five of them. An Aeterium, an Omniscient, a High Elf, a Dragon, and a Celestial…"
His voice cracked just slightly at the end. Phaenora tilted her head with a teasing smile. Was he becoming aware of it just now?
"Veneri, are you okay? You look like you just saw the ghost of your teenage self from the past."
Elyonari blinked at him with concern.
"You seem overwhelmed."
Adelasta narrowed her eyes subtly.
"You're thinking again. Deeply."
Even Narisva sat up straighter, her lips twitching with curiosity.
"You're spacing out. Seriously, you should know by now how seductive you look."
And Asenane just blinked, puzzled, her long tail coiling slightly under the couch.
"I… I have a multiracial harem. Amd I love all of you. All of you."
There was a brief silence. Phaenora's lips curved up into that rare, fond smile that only came when she wasn't trying to be annoying.
"Oh, he's spiraling."
Adelasta gave a quiet huff of breath.
"He's finally comprehending what we already knew."
Vastarael leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees.
In his thoughts, he saw her again. Greshina Emberforge. She was the woman he had once cherished on Earth. She was a strong, wild-hearted woman. And for years, it haunted him. There had been a time he thought he could find her again, that maybe, somewhere in this vast world or beyond it, she would be reborn.
But now…
'No more.'
And for the first time since being transmigrated in Spheraphase, Vastarael didn't flinch from the idea that he was done. That there would be no more searching. That this was it.
'I don't need Earth anymore.'
He'd clung to Earth like a severed limb. He was too scared to let go because of what it once meant. But it didn't mean anything now. Spheraphase was home now. And if he had to become the God of Time to protect it, then so be it. His thoughts spiraled again, years compressed into seconds in that deep, weightless place in his mind.
As an Essentia, he grew stronger because he was supposed to. His parents carved his path. He had been groomed to be the next Monarch of Dynasty Richinaria, whether he wanted it or not. He did choose that destiny for himself after all. Then, during the Epoch Cycle, when he became an Ascender, it changed. He wasn't just fulfilling a duty. He was surviving and fighting for everyone he cared about. Protecting wasn't a responsibility anymore. It was instinct. It was love.
And now as a Divine, it was war.
The Mopherian Pantheon had their claws already stretched into the seams of the world. They wanted to crush the Dynasties and steal Spheraphase and crown themselves rulers of its broken shell. But not while Vastarael lived. Not while he breathed. Not while he remembered every name, every laugh and every person he loved. His sister Anamorsia had bought them seven years. Six remained. By then, he had to ascend to Godhood, or the entire Dynasty system might collapse.
He was already at the Third Enlightenment. Four more remained. Just four. And he knew that the Sacred Trials were the key. If the Primordial Existence itself was offering him the path, then he would walk it.
All of this flew through his mind in just a few seconds. And meanwhile, the women were casually discussing Asenane's dragon tail.
"It's warm," Elyonari was saying, touching the scales. "Like it's made of sunlight."
"It's not sunlight. It's… dragon heat. Sort of."
"Your horns are cute," Phaenora added. "I bet you could headbutt someone into the next realm."
"I have done that," Asenane said quietly.
That's when Vastarael stirred again.
"We need to head back to Anqerise."
They all looked at him.
"The Dynasties need to talk. All of them. The future's already moving faster than we can hold it back. The Gods aren't waiting."
Adelasta's eyes glinted as she nodded.
"It's time to prepare. Soon, we'll all be fighting Gods."
Vastarael stood, slowly, stretching his arms.
"But before we get to the Second Sacred Trial, we should rest. We've earned it.And we're strong enough. Some of us are already at the Third Enlightenment."
"Some of us," Phaenora echoed teasingly.
Adelasta rolled her eyes. "Don't start."
He looked at them again. He had five years and Four Enlightenments to go.
"I'll protect all of you. Even if I have to bend time itself."
And behind him, the five women stood in quiet understanding, each feeling the oath thrum in their bones. They didn't need him to say it again. They knew. He belonged to them just as much as they belonged to him.
"I think we should head back tomorrow."
Everyone glanced his way. Narisva blinked once, tilting her head.
"Already, Darling?"
"Yeah. I'll arrange for all the Dynasties to meet in Richinaria Palace in a few days. Nari, can you create a dimension for all of us to meet in? Somewhere beyond the Pantheon's sight?"
Narisva grinned, her lip curling with pride.
"Of course I can. You're talking to the Divine of Space, remember? I'll fold the edges of spatial reality so tight not even a Primordial God will eavesdrop."
Vastarael chuckled at that. "Good. I just... I don't want the Pantheon listening in. We are not taking any chances."
He folded his arms and looked out the window, watching the garden sway gently in the afternoon light. His thoughts began to unravel again, more frayed now.
"I don't like acting as a Dynasty Monarch. Not all the time. It's tiring. I know it's my role but sometimes it feels like I'm trapped by the title more than I am defined by it."
Phaenora blinked slowly and smirked.
"You're doing great. Stressed and gorgeous, just the way we like you."
He gave her a soft smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. He thought about telling. Elyonari, Asenane, even Narisva about his past life but his words caught in his throat. Not yet. Only Phaenora and Adelasta knew. They knew that he wasn't truly born of Spheraphase and he came from a planet called Earth. And right now, he liked it that way.
Even if Earth still existed, even if it was untouched by the wars that plagued his dreams, he would never go back. His future heart and soul were tethered to this world now and to the people within it. He looked down at his hand, curling his fingers in, clenching lightly.
He had seen her in his future in the Submerged Island. And in that vision, they were together, laughing, holding hands, living a quiet life far from war. But it was gone now. That future would never come. He had rewritten it with his own hands. He changed his destiny with this. Instead, he now stood with five women, each from a different race. And he loved them. He really loved them.
That was when they all turned toward him, confusion blinking into concern.
"Are you okay?"
Vastarael blinked out of his thoughts and scratched the back of his head with a sheepish look.
"It's nothing, Ellie. Just... my future's going to change."
He paused.
"And I'm okay with that."
Little did he know that no matter what he did or how much he tried to believe, Greshina Emberforge's Destiny and Fate was always linked to him, no matter if he transmigrated through time and space.
They would always meet, no matter the situation or consequence.