All beings are born within the confines of rules—how could any be deemed nobler than another?
The only difference lies in the weight of the Authorities they command.
A god who holds greater authority naturally appears loftier, while one who governs a single power still possesses a high rank.
But neither the measure of power nor the strength of the self is reason enough for gods to place collars upon their own kind.
For those born with Authority understand such tricks all too well. If the collar were truly of divine making, someone would have devised a way to counter it long ago.
Which is why the gods of Genkai are never bound by their own kind.
"Snap!"
A pitch-black collar clamped around Ikelos's neck. Chains locked his wrists and ankles, and in an instant, the god became a prisoner.
The other end of the chain vanished into the void, holding fast to every one of Ikelos's movements.
"Ouranos… ah… you actually resorted to a trick like this…"
Ikelos forced out the words, his face twisted with humiliation.
He knew they had all been played—played by Ouranos.
What stung even more was that, thinking back, he couldn't recall finding anything strange about Ouranos's decision at the time. It had felt like the natural, inevitable outcome.
But was it truly inevitable?
Were they, the gods, simply fitted with collars and made to dance like puppets on strings all along?
...No. Perhaps they weren't even worth that much.
The thought only deepened Ikelos's despair. What had his past amounted to? Nothing but a life manipulated at whim.
Gods? Ha… perhaps they weren't even as precious as the children of Genkai.
"This is just a farce… What is the meaning of our existence as gods?"
If everything was already arranged, did the gods' existence truly carry meaning?
Many children of Genkai claim their lives have value, that life itself is meaningful.
Their time is fleeting, but every so often a few burn brilliantly, leaving a radiance far beyond their short span.
Then what of the gods?
Perhaps nothing more than playthings.
Or… not even that.
Realizing this, Ikelos broke completely.
He could not accept it. He could not understand it.
"No, our existence as gods is not meaningless!"
Ikelos clenched his teeth. He could never admit that his life was worthless. He could never accept that the existence of gods was meaningless.
"Hermes, Loki, say something!"
Watching Ikelos thrash against reality, both Loki and Hermes wore mocking smiles.
"You even need others to tell you whether your existence has meaning. Ikelos, that makes you truly meaningless."
Loki's sharp words cut deep, mercilessly ridiculing the useless god.
Of course, the gods were not without meaning—their existence had always carried weight.
But that weight depended on their own conviction that they mattered.
A being who cannot even decide the purpose of his own existence, who needs others to affirm it—such a being is meaningless.
Hermes pressed down on the brim of his round hat, his voice low.
"Ikelos, you're such a hollow, empty thing—just like your child."
"No... I'm not..."
Faced with Loki's mockery and Hermes's denial, Ikelos grew even paler than when the threat of banishment had been raised.
For a god, returning to the joyless realm of Tenkai was already torment.
But compared to amusement, it was the meaning of their own existence that mattered most to the gods.
Once the value and purpose they clung to were completely denied, then their existence itself became meaningless.
And that was something most gods simply could not accept.
It was a truth sharp enough to shatter a divine mind.
'Ah, he's completely broken.'
Loki and Hermes could see it clearly in Ikelos's eyes, now devoid of light, and in his mad, incoherent muttering. He had lost his sanity, unable to bear the weight of it all.
Bell cast a glance at Ikelos, now consumed by self-doubt, and shook his head slightly.
The Hazer had regained clarity before his death, yet his Familia God had fallen into madness the moment he was captured. How ironic.
Does existence truly hold meaning?
That question was nothing more than a word game.
For meaning is not defined by others—it is defined by oneself.
Even in a world as distorted as this, where gods and mortals alike are nothing but puppets on strings, as long as the one living in it believes there is meaning, then within that world, their existence carries meaning.
Those who cannot accept reality always collapse from within.
Hermes and Loki had long since learned this truth. They had been shocked, yes, but they never obsessed over it, never let themselves get trapped in such pointless thoughts.
As for Ikelos's dazed state, Bell had no intention of offering comfort.
No matter how much that god doubted himself, it would not change what needed to be done.
On the contrary, if Ikelos could behave himself afterward, that would actually be for the best.
"Loki-sama, let's go."
Everything here had been resolved. The ones who needed to be captured were already in hand. It was time to leave. Bell could clearly sense people beginning to gather around.
To avoid sparking an open conflict, it was best to depart quickly.
"Hey! Bell-kun, I need to witness what happens next!"
Just as Bell prepared to leave with Loki, Hermes snapped out of his solemn mood and hurried to follow.
"..."
"Hermes-sama, please come with us as well."
There was no helping it. He would have to bring Hermes along.
Bell disliked revealing his secrets—especially to a god like Hermes, whose integrity was practically nonexistent.
But since Loki-sama had already revealed enough, there was no way to take it back now.
Bell shook his head helplessly. He would just have to bring Hermes along.
It was hardly a good thing, yet Hermes still insisted on being a witness.
Tearing open space, Bell led the way with Ikelos, bound in collar and chains. Loki and Hermes followed behind the shackled god.
As they walked, they watched Ikelos, who looked moments away from collapse.