Atlas made his way to the library —a grand chamber of endless spiraling shelves, each carved with ancient sigils that shimmered faintly with divine light.
The air hummed faintly, heavy with the essence of stored knowledge —Luminaria's personal archive, her eternity recorded and sealed in the form of living books that whispered truths only deities could comprehend.
He had spent hours here before, but even now, he had barely scratched the surface. Not by choice. Every attempt to reach beyond his current standing resulted in the same invisible barrier —an unyielding rejection from the knowledge itself.
As a Mid-tier Deity, his divinity allowed him access only to what his current level permitted. Any attempt to reach beyond that limit left him with nothing but a headache and the mocking pulse of restriction pressing against his temples.
The realization burned him, frustration clawing at his composure, yet he kept his expression calm and unreadable. Power without knowledge was useless —but knowledge locked behind power was a cruel joke.
He exhaled softly and returned to the tome before him, its runes rearranging with every turn of the page, offering fragments of enlightenment and taunting glimpses of what he couldn't yet touch. Thirty minutes passed before the door creaked open.
Lilim stepped into the library, silent as moonlight, her presence delicate yet arresting. The moment she saw Atlas, she froze for an instant —her instincts warring between reverence and nervous anticipation.
"You called for me… M–Master," she said, her voice trembling faintly, though it carried a softness that seemed almost too innocent for the atmosphere around them.
Atlas didn't lift his gaze immediately. Instead, he closed the book in front of him and set it aside with care before pulling out the chair beside him. His finger tapped once on the polished armrest.
"Sit," he commanded.
Lilim obeyed instantly, the subtle sound of her movement barely breaking the silence as she took her seat beside him. Her posture was straight, disciplined —yet her aura flickered with subtle unease.
"Lilim," Atlas began, finally turning his attention toward her, his eyes calm but sharp enough to pierce through her every defense.
"I know we've only just met, and there's still much we don't know about one another." His tone softened slightly, though it still carried authority.
"But understand this —you have already been mine for quite some time now. And I can tell that you've sensed it… and even accepted it."
Lilim's breath hitched. Her pupils dilated, a faint glimmer of recognition surfacing within them. The truth in his words resonated somewhere deep in her soul.
Atlas leaned closer, his voice dipping to a low, steady cadence. "Sadly, your submission… is not yet absolute." His hand brushed her chin lightly, tilting her face upward until her gaze locked with his. "And I cannot accept anything but absolute."
Lilim's pulse quickened under his touch. She tried to speak, but her words died on her tongue the moment Atlas bit gently into the inner flesh of his bottom lip. A small bead of blood welled there —dark crimson with a faint golden shimmer —and before she could react, Atlas closed the distance.
He pressed his lips against hers —a calm, deliberate act that carried both warmth and command. The taste of his blood flowed into her mouth like molten gold, searing and sweet, flooding her senses until her thoughts dissolved into instinct. The warmth from his lips spread rapidly through her body, radiating deep into her essence.
The moment their lips parted, a sudden shift occurred —Atlas's usual canines began to elongate, reshaping into sleek, sharp fangs that gleamed faintly under the library's ethereal light. Lilim gasped, eyes wide with both surprise and awe.
Before she could retreat, Atlas's hand slid to the back of her neck, guiding her closer. His voice dropped to a whisper, almost like a promise.
"Do not resist."
Then he sank his fangs into the side of her neck.
The bite was not brutal —it was deliberate, precise —and the instant his fangs pierced her skin, an overwhelming warmth burst through her veins, like liquid fire laced with serenity.
Her breath hitched, and instead of fear, a strange euphoria took over her body. The connection was intoxicating —it was more than blood; it was communion.
But Lilim was no ordinary being. As the divine exchange surged through her, her Mana Eyes activated on their own —glowing faintly as she analyzed every minute aspect of his fangs: the way they formed, the energy they conducted, the spiritual resonance they produced.
In the next heartbeat, she recreated them.
Her own fangs extended, sleek and identical to Atlas's. Driven by instinct —or perhaps the echo of his will —she leaned forward and bit into his neck without waiting for permission.
Atlas didn't stop her.
A faint, approving smile touched his lips even as her fangs pierced his flesh. The pain was nothing —the sensation, exhilarating. Power rippled between them like a living current, the exchange of essence merging their presence in perfect balance —dominance and surrender intertwined.
He let her drink, for now.
Absolute obedience and loyalty had yet to take full form —but this was a start.
And Atlas was nothing if not patient.
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Two months had passed since Lilim began living in Luminaria's sub-realm —a peaceful span of time where the stillness of eternity blended with quiet, unspoken bonds.
Every morning, Elizabeth would arrive for what she called her Seismic Senses training with Atlas. In truth, Atlas had long since mastered the ability —her visits were little more than an excuse to see him. She'd always arrive with a grin, ready with some shameless comment or teasing remark.
"Are you feeling naughty today?" she'd whisper when he was meditating.
"Don't you just want to claim me?" she'd suggest, leaning in too close.
Or her favorite, said with a mock sigh, "You know, I'm only ever going to be this young right now."
It was a daily ritual —her provocations, his sighs, and the faint smirk that always betrayed his supposed irritation. Elizabeth was an annoyance, no doubt, but an entertaining one.
Atlas never admitted it aloud, yet he found her presence… grounding. A peaceful life was dull, and her chaos kept him from sinking too deep into the stillness.
Meanwhile, Lilim's progress had been remarkable. Feeding on Atlas's blood every day had fully sealed her loyalty. The shy demeanor remained —a delicate contrast to her power —but her submission was now absolute. When she looked at Atlas, it was with quiet reverence and unshakable devotion.
Luminaria, as usual, spent her days in her office chamber, managing divine calculations and the flow of soul creation. Her focus was unmatched, yet she always knew where Atlas was —as though his presence guided the rhythm of her very thoughts.
Lilim, however, preferred the living chamber —specifically, the couch. Despite being a deity —a being who needs no sleep, she indulged in it constantly. When asked why, her answer never changed:
"Because it brings me closer to death,"
She'd say with a small, content smile —a response that was both morbid and oddly poetic.
That afternoon, Atlas sat outside beneath the vast sky of Luminaria's realm, the air around him resonating with divine hums as he cultivated. Elizabeth sat beside him, pretending to do the same —but she was far more focused on him than her own energy.
After nearly an hour of ignoring her endless chatter, Atlas finally finished. The aura around him dimmed to stillness, signaling the end of his session.
He rose, brushing the grass from his sleeves, and without a word, left Elizabeth behind.
"Rude!" she called out after him, earning only a faint smirk in return.
Inside the mansion, the atmosphere was tranquil. He moved through the marble corridors until he reached the living chamber —and there, as expected, Lilim lay curled on the couch, fast asleep. Her obsidian hair glowed faintly under the ambient light, her expression peaceful.
Atlas approached silently, crouching beside her. For a moment, he simply watched —then leaned in and pressed his lips against hers.
The warmth of the kiss startled her awake instantly. Lilim's eyes fluttered open, wide and soft, her face turning bright red as she realized what had happened.
"M…Master," she whispered, voice barely audible, her tone laced with flustered affection.
Atlas smiled faintly. "Time to wake up," he said, his tone calm but edged with command. "Today will be hectic. I need you in top condition."
She nodded quickly, still dazed.
"I'll get the coordinates of the realms Luminaria mentioned," Atlas added, rising to his feet.
Lilim watched him go, her heart still racing, before curling her knees up on the couch, covering her face with her hands —a Goddess reduced to shy tremors at a single kiss.
When Atlas entered Luminaria's office, the goddess was already aware of his presence —her quill paused mid-air as she turned toward him.
"Luminaria," Atlas said, stepping closer, "I need the coordinates of the realms you mentioned —the ones Fate rarely watches."
"Of course, Master," she replied instantly, her tone warm yet efficient. She reached across her desk and retrieved a celestial sheet glowing faintly with golden threads of energy.
"These are all the realms I've found with minimal risk," she said, handing the sheet to him with both hands, head slightly bowed.
Atlas scanned the list. There were dozens upon dozens of them —small, isolated worlds, forgotten or overlooked by Fate's gaze.
A hundred at least. Enough for now.
His lips curved in quiet satisfaction. "Good," he said simply, rolling the glowing sheet between his fingers.
The next phase of his plan was ready to begin.