Morpheus held back the words he wanted to say, feeling that voicing them would make him seem guilty.
Seeing Apollo chatting and laughing with Artemis, Morpheus chose not to eavesdrop. It was, after all, a private sibling conversation, and it wouldn't be right for an outsider to intrude.
So, after glancing around, Morpheus walked toward Medea, who was savoring the delicacies of the divine realm.
"Morpheus!" Medea waved excitedly when she saw him approach, holding out a goblet. "Come try this! It's wine only the gods can taste!"
Morpheus took the goblet and sipped lightly. The wine was initially bitter, but moments after it touched his tongue, it transformed into a rich, fragrant sweetness... a striking contrast to its initial bite.
It was merely delicious, though, with no grand effects like "drink this and gain power." The gods' food was, at its core, just exquisite cuisine.
Medea took another sip, her cheeks already flushed from who-knows-how-many cups. The rosy glow made her look utterly charming.
Morpheus had the sudden urge to pinch her cheeks, certain it would feel delightful.
But, mindful of the crowd around them, he suppressed the impulse with great effort.
Noticing his odd demeanor, Medea leaned closer, her face breaking into a playful grin as she brought it near his. The scent of her breath, mixed with the wine, wafted toward him.
"What were you just thinking about?" she asked, blinking mischievously.
"Nothing! I was just thinking this wine tastes great."
"Nothing? That's a weird way to put it. If you weren't thinking anything, how could you think the wine tastes good? You said 'nothing' but then mentioned the wine... are you hiding what's really on your mind?!" Medea teased, leaning even closer.
Morpheus listened to her words, feeling her proximity... so close he could sense her breath from her mouth and nose, even catch a glimpse of what lay beneath her collar. Taking a deep breath, he said, "No, you're overthinking it!"
He absolutely wouldn't admit that his heart was racing or that his gaze was slipping beyond his control.
Medea seemed to pick up on this, leaning in even closer, her smile growing more pronounced.
"Oh? Is that so?"
Morpheus' breathing quickened. He forced himself not to step back, lest he seem afraid, and grabbed a goblet. "I'm drinking, drinking!"
Medea's lips curled slightly. "Go ahead and drink. I'm not stopping you."
From a distance, the gods watching this scene burst into laughter. Zeus stroked his chin and shook his head. "What a hassle. They clearly like each other... why won't they take that final step?"
Hera shot him a glare. "Not everyone's like you."
"Cough, cough!" Zeus cleared his throat, falling silent.
Artemis, observing the scene, pouted slightly. Apollo, standing beside her, said, "What's wrong, sister? Feeling a bit upset?"
"No, I'm actually pretty happy," Artemis replied, shaking her head but still pouting. "It's just… besides being happy, there's this uncomfortable feeling too. Weird, right?"
Apollo hesitated, debating whether to explain why she felt that way.
"Sister, do you know what love is?"
Artemis nodded. "Of course! I've seen plenty of people fall in love."
"Then do you understand what's going on with you right now?"
Artemis shook her head. "Nope."
Apollo fell silent, unsure how to proceed.
So, he decided to approach it indirectly. "Sister, you said the most you could offer was yourself. Were you serious?"
"Of course! The greatest thing I could give is myself."
"And you'd be okay with giving yourself to him?"
Artemis thought for a moment. "We have fun together, so I guess it wouldn't be a big deal."
Apollo was at his wit's end. He could only say, "What if Medea feels something similar toward Morpheus?"
Artemis froze, blinking as she glanced at Medea and Morpheus, then back at her brother.
"No… really?"
"I think you should give it some thought, sister," Apollo said, ending the conversation. He walked off, muttering to himself, "At least he's way better than that Orion guy!"
…
Night fell quietly.
Before Morpheus lay pages made of a special material, forming a book that wasn't particularly thick... perhaps a few dozen pages.
This book was crafted by Hephaestus at Morpheus' request. Conceptually, it bore the quality of a divine construct.
But its pages were blank, as per Morpheus' specifications, for he intended to use it for experimentation.
Using sanctified ink he'd carefully preserved, Morpheus wrote on the pages. A closer look would reveal the words were in Latin.
The words themselves might seem unremarkable, but when strung together, they held magical energy.
This energy flowed autonomously through the text, coursing through the book. As Morpheus wrote, the book seemed to come alive, pulsing with a rhythm akin to life itself.
What he inscribed was his magical knowledge, a culmination of his wisdom and experience. His current endeavor was to create his own Grimoire.
Normally, crafting a fully stable, self-sustaining grimoire was incredibly difficult. Neither the Morpheus of the Nasuverse nor the one from the Toaruverse could have managed it.
After all, he was just a small fry.
But with the existence of a divine construct as a foundation, he could bypass some limitations.
It should be possible.
Morpheus had asked Hephaestus to craft this with the intent of experimenting, and it was proving effective... quite effective, even.
If this grimoire was completed, his safety in this world would be significantly enhanced.
As for whether using a divine construct as the base would affect the grimoire, that was something to test later.
As Morpheus wrote the final word, the book began to tremble slightly, warping strangely and emitting a heartbeat-like thump before settling into calm, as if it had become an ordinary book. In the quiet courtyard, the sound of soft footsteps approached.
"Morpheus…"
It was Medea!
Her face slightly flushed, Medea walked slowly toward him. She seemed nervous, yet her steps were resolute.
***
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