Atlas cleared his thoughts, regaining his usual composure and commanding presence.
"How close is my divinity to reaching Godhood?" he asked calmly, his tone steady yet edged with curiosity.
Lilim tilted her head slightly, her obsidian eyes narrowing in thought. "Since you've already acquired your Conceptual Divinity, I'd say you're extremely close," she replied. "Normally, a being first gains their Divine Title, which is the easier part, and only afterward manifests their Conceptual Divinity —the essence that links directly to that title. But you've done it inversely."
She smiled faintly, both impressed and concerned. "In your case, you already have your Conceptual Divinity —so the only thing left for you is to create your Divine Title. Once you do that, you'll ascend to Godhood. You're only one step away, Master."
Atlas nodded slowly, processing her words. "Well," he said, his expression turning distant and contemplative, "we still have ninety more realms to destroy or conquer. We'll see what happens after that…"
But as he spoke, a familiar face flickered into his mind —Luminaria.
Since she was connected to him through his blood as well, she must have endured the same agony Lilim had suffered when his divinity surged uncontrollably.
His expression darkened slightly. "We'll continue the conquest another time," he said, rising to his feet. "Right now, let's head back home. I have a feeling Luminaria isn't well."
Lilim nodded without hesitation. She lifted her right hand, and an obsidian dimensional portal formed before them —a spiraling gateway of darkness rimmed with faint light.
The two stepped through.
The moment they arrived, Atlas noticed the difference. The usual liveliness that once filled the sub-realm was gone. The skies were dull, the air heavy, and the very structure of the realm trembled, barely holding itself together. That alone told him enough —its owner was in no condition to maintain it.
Without a word, they made their way to Luminaria's mansion. Inside, silence hung thick and heavy. As they reached her office, the sight before them stopped Atlas in his tracks.
The chamber was in ruins. Celestial parchments and shattered glass covered the marble floor. Her chair was toppled over beside the grand desk, and the light from the broken lamp flickered weakly.
And there, lying motionless on the cold floor, was Luminaria.
Unconscious —and just like Lilim earlier, faint blood stains marked her cheeks.
Atlas immediately knelt beside her, his expression hardening. With a single touch —gentle but firm— he reached for her essence, allowing his divine energy to intertwine with hers. At once, Luminaria stirred, her eyes fluttering open.
The instant she saw him, her light blue eyes filled with recognition and emotion. Without a second thought, she threw herself into his arms, embracing him tightly.
"Master!"
Her voice trembled with both relief and fear.
Atlas said nothing at first, allowing her to hold him. Like her twin sister, Lilim, Luminaria's hugs were tight —almost painfully so, yet sincere in every sense.
As she buried her face against his chest, Atlas gently patted her head, his hand brushing through her soft blonde hair. The familiar warmth between them calmed the tension in the room.
When she finally released him —reluctantly— she looked up, her expression shifting from relief to something far more serious.
"Master… what happened?" she asked, her voice unusually sharp. For the first time, there was anger in her tone, though it was tempered by deep worry.
Atlas met her gaze and answered honestly. "I wasn't careful enough."
Luminaria stared at him for several long seconds before exhaling softly, her expression easing into one of resigned relief. "Next time… please, be careful," she said gently.
"Yes," Atlas replied, his tone subdued. For a brief moment, he didn't feel like a master —but rather a reprimanded child. The sensation was foreign… and unpleasant.
Then, her tone shifted again —from gentle to inquisitive. "Now, tell me, Master," she said, straightening herself, "why did you absorb my lifeforce —how did you even do it without being in my presence or having any direct contact with me?"
Atlas frowned slightly. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, though a flicker of unease crossed his mind. Lilim, standing beside him, also looked intrigued, her eyes narrowing.
"When you called for my help," Luminaria began, "I felt my lifeforce being drained. It wasn't life-threatening, but you took a considerable amount."
Atlas's expression hardened, his curiosity turning serious. "Be precise, Luminaria. Tell me exactly what you felt when it happened."
Luminaria nodded, recalling the experience vividly. "Your voice," she said slowly, "kept echoing in my head —over and over, pleading and commanding at the same time, demanding my help. The sound of it felt like a command I couldn't resist."
She placed a hand over her chest, her fingers trembling slightly as she continued. "Then, I felt my lifeforce drain away, as if my own blood was absorbing a portion of my essence and sending it somewhere else —to you. If I weren't a Goddess, I might have died. The only reason I noticed the loss was because my Conceptual Divinity is Life itself —otherwise, I wouldn't have sensed it at all. The absorption was that undetectable."
Her words hung in the air, heavy and unsettling.
Atlas's eyes narrowed, a faint crimson gleam flickering behind them.
He turned to Lilim, his gaze sharp and probing. "You also heard this voice, didn't you?" Atlas asked, his tone calm but laced with quiet intensity.
"Yes, Master," she replied immediately, lowering her head in acknowledgment.
Atlas fell silent. His mind began to race —calculating, dissecting, and connecting every fragment of what he had just learned. His crimson eyes flickered faintly, reflecting the storm of thoughts churning behind them.
All those voices I heard in my blood… he thought. Luminaria's and Lilim's must've been among them. Their essence, their connection to me —that explains part of it.
But then, his brows furrowed slightly. Still… why were there thousands of them? I don't remember allowing that many beings to drink my blood. Yet, when I heard them—each voice sounded alive. Real. Desperate.
A chill rippled down his spine as realization dawned on him —sudden and electric, striking through his thoughts like a bolt of divine lightning.
"...Selphira's realm," he muttered under his breath, his tone darkening as the pieces fell into place. His expression twisted into something both wrathful and hungry. The mere utterance of her name sent a pulse through the room —the air around him thickened, trembling faintly with divine pressure.
"Selphira," he repeated, louder this time, his voice heavy with restrained fury. The wrath within him was palpable, radiating like heat from a furnace —but what lay beneath it was far more terrifying.
A hunger.
Not the wild, uncontrollable hunger of his earlier frenzy —but something colder, deeper, and infinitely more dangerous.
His eyes gleamed with a predatory light, the corners of his lips curving into a faint, ominous smirk. The craving wasn't merely for blood —it was for domination, for the thrill of breaking something pure beneath his will.
Whether it was to subjugate her… or to destroy her entirely —Atlas hadn't yet decided.
But one thing was certain.
Selphira had made herself his next prey.