He awoke to a canvas of stars unlike anything he'd ever seen.
No light pollution. No hazy glow of cityscapes. Just endless constellations stretching across the velvet black sky, so vivid he could trace entire galaxies with his fingertips.
The stars arched overhead like a celestial river, its brilliance casting faint silver shadows across the moonlit clearing. For a long moment, he simply lay there, breath caught in his throat, marveling at a sky Earth had lost centuries ago.
Then the stars vanished.
One by one, their light winked out as something far brighter descended from the heavens. A pillar of liquid moonlight poured down from the sky, bathing the forest clearing in ethereal silver. The trees stood motionless, their leaves catching the glow like thousands of tiny mirrors.
He scrambled backward as the light touched down before him, the grass beneath it crystallizing into delicate frost patterns. The radiance dimmed, coalescing into a feminine silhouette that hovered inches above the earth.
A woman stood before him, her very presence making the air hum with power. Raven-black hair cascaded down her back like liquid night, adorned with silver ornaments that glittered like captured starlight. Her skin held a faint lavender hue, smooth and flawless as polished marble. The gown clinging to her curves seemed woven from shadows and twilight, shifting with her every movement.
But her eyes—those were what froze him in place.
Pools of deepest violet stared down at him, containing entire galaxies within their depths. They weren't merely looking at him—they were seeing through him, reading his very soul. A small, knowing smile played across her full lips as she took a graceful step forward, her bare feet hovering just above the grass.
"Oh?" Her voice was the whisper of wind through midnight leaves. "A mortal here to greet me in my descent?"
One delicate hand extended toward him, palm upturned. Rings of starlight danced along her fingers.
"Perfect timing, child," she purred. "Do you wish to be the first to join my Familia?"
His mind reeled. The clearing. The trees. This wasn't the cramped apartment he'd fallen asleep in—this wasn't Earth at all. And that word… Familia. It prickled at his memory, a term from some half-remembered game or anime. If this was Genkai…
But no. That was impossible. Wasn't it?
His throat tightened. Questions surged—Where am I? Why me?—but his lips refused to move. All he could do was stare at her outstretched hand, the starlight dancing along her fingers like a taunt.
The words hung in the air, heavier than the moon above them. Still, he said nothing. Could say nothing.
Nyx's smile deepened, mistaking his silence for awe. "Speechless? How… adorable."
The air thickened with the scent of ozone and crushed herbs. Somewhere in the forest, a creature shrieked—then silence. The goddess's smile widened as if she'd heard his racing thoughts.
"No words?" She tilted her head, her hair a normal black with her arcanum now sealed. "Strange. Most people agree when they meet divinity." Her fingers retracted, leaving trails of slight sensuality. "Yet you… have yet to give me an answer."
He tried to speak, but his tongue felt leaden. The symbols on her rings pulsed—ancient, hungry shapes that hurt to look at. Her offer hung between them, heavier than the moon.
The silence stretched between them, thick as the forest mist.
He swallowed hard, forcing air into his frozen lungs. Get a grip. This is real. The grass beneath his palms felt solid, damp—too vivid for any dream. Slowly, he pushed himself up onto unsteady legs, dirt crumbling from his pajamas.
The goddess watched, amused, as he swayed like a newborn fawn. Her starlit eyes tracked his every twitch, reading the pulse in his throat.
"Y-your name," he managed at last, voice rough. "If I'm to join your Familia… shouldn't I know who's claiming me?"
A beat. Then—laughter like shattering crystal.
"Claiming you?" She drifted closer, her shadow stretching long across the frost-laced grass. "Oh, clever mortal. Bargaining with divinity already?" Her fingers brushed his chin, tilting his face toward hers. The scent of night-blooming jasmine flooded his senses.
"Very well." Her lips curved. "I am Nyx. Mother of night. Weaver of fates. And you…" Her thumb traced his jaw, leaving a trail of cold fire. "…are the first soul in this world to hear my name."
The weight of that admission settled between them. Somewhere in the trees, an owl screamed.
"Um. So I'd be the first to receive your Falna?" He wiped his palms on his jeans, steadying his voice. "Wouldn't that make me the captain of your Familia?" A hysterical laugh bubbled up. "Are you 'sure' you want me? Some guy you just met?"
Nyx's grin turned razor-edged.
"Captain?" She echoed, drifting so close her breath fogged against his lips. "Oh, my darling moth, you misunderstand." A finger tapped his chest—thump, thump, thump—matching his rabbit-quick heartbeat. "First means only. My Familia begins and ends with you… unless you prove worthy of company."
Her hand slid down to his wrist, grip deceptively gentle. "As for 'some guy'…" Shadows coiled around their joined hands like serpents. "You are here to greet me at the moment I descended in a place where no one else is present. That makes you interesting, maybe this is fate!"
The unspoken threat hung in the air: Disappoint me, and you'll cease to be.
"Why only one member?" He eyed her warily. "Most gods want armies. Or at least… a dozen lackeys."
Nyx yawned, stretching her arms overhead with feline grace. The light in her eyes dimmed sleepily.
"Mm. Two reasons, little moth." She held up a finger. "First? I despise noise." A second finger joined it. "Second? I adore naps."
Her form melted into the ground, reappearing draped across a suddenly materialized chaise lounge of starlight and shadow from her clothes. She nestled into it like a cat finding sunbeams.
"You'll fetch Valis," she murmured, already half-lidded. "Pile high the softest pillows in Orario. Layer blankets like clouds. And in return…" A lazy flick of her wrist. "I'll grace you with my Falna. Fair trade, no?"
She peeked one violet eye open. "Unless you'd rather I, your goddess, sleep on roots and rocks like a 'peasant'?"
Nyx twirled a lock of raven hair around her finger, examining him like a particularly unimpressed housecat. "Naturally, you'll start tonight," she declared. "I require a featherbed by dawn—imported from the Far East, stuffed with phoenix down, and scented with vanilla. Or perhaps jasmine. I'll decide after my second nap."
His mind short-circuited. Phoenix down?! Vanilla?! He had no money, no weapons, and—oh gods—no idea where Orario even was or what phoenix down is?! The shadows around her chaise seemed to giggle at him as he choked out, "What if I—"
"Fail?" Nyx sighed, rolling onto her side. "Then I'll revoke your Falna and turn you into a footstool. Now shoo. I'm dreaming of silk sheets."
Regulus Nihil.
The name tumbled from his lips before he could stop it—a desperate construct, half-remembered from some old novel. "I'm… Regulus Nihil."
Nyx's eyelashes fluttered, her violet eyes sharpening with sudden amusement. The shadows around her chaise stilled, as if holding their breath.
"Oh?" Her finger tapped her bottom lip. "Regulus. The little king." A slow smile. "Nihil. Nothing." She leaned forward, the scent of jasmine thickening. "How… fitting."
His stomach dropped. Of course she knew. Gods could taste lies like wine—he'd read that much.
But to his surprise, Nyx merely yawned again, stretching like a satisfied predator. "Truth or lie matters little, my would-be servant. What matters is that you've accepted." Her gaze pinned him. "Haven't you?"
The unspoken alternative hung between them—the forest's creeping dark, the distant shrieks of monsters, the sheer impossibility of surviving this world alone.
"…Yes." The word tasted like ash and honey. "I'll join your Familia."
Nyx's laughter rang like shattered crystal as she snapped her fingers. The shadows surged, ink-black tendrils coiling around him. And the world shone with divine light as her ichor inscribed her Falna between his shoulder blades.