The Divine Realm The Astral Void
The Primordial Gods sat comfortably upon their colossal, floating thrones of raw cosmic energy.
The massive, nebula scaled Dragon of the Deep Seas rested its heavily armored chin on its glowing claws, silently observing the cosmos. The terrifying Empress of the Frozen Skies sat rigidly upright on her towering throne of eternal, unmelting ice. The King of Lava burned silently in his shifting spirit form, warming the absolute vacuum of space. And Grand Duke Yash, the God of Time and Space, was casually lounging upside down on his floating asteroid, lazily tossing a localized, miniature galaxy back and forth like a glass ball.
Suddenly, the silent fabric of the void rippled violently. A celestial being composed entirely of blinding, pure starlight stepped gracefully into the circle. It was Lumis, the Herald and personal servant of the Original God.
Lumis bowed deeply, the starlight bending around his form. "My absolute respects to the Primordial Gods. I bring a direct, sovereign mandate from the Creator."
The massive Dragon of the Deep Seas slowly opened one terrifying, sun like eye. "Speak, Herald. Why does a servant of the Original God walk among us today?"
Lumis turned fluidly to face Yash. "The Creator has sent me to deliver a mandate to the God of Time and Space. Akaasha, you are summoned to the Pinnacle of Creation immediately."
Yash nearly dropped the spinning galaxy he was holding. He caught it clumsily against his chest, his silver eyes widening in pure, unadulterated panic.
What a colossal mess! Yash thought, his heart hammering against his ribs. Why is He calling for me right now?! I swear on the dying stars I haven't broken any major rules recently!
"I do not know the exact details of your transgression," Lumis said, his voice echoing with absolute, terrifying neutrality. "But it seems, Lord Akaasha, that you have broken a divine law once again."
The Empress of the Frozen Skies let out a long, cold, profoundly exhausted sigh. She wasn't surprised in the slightest. The Dragon of the Deep Seas just shook his massive, scaled head in disappointment. Only the King of Lava looked genuinely shocked, his flames flickering in rapid surprise.
"Wait, please believe me!" Yash pleaded, looking desperately at the other Primordials for backup. "I didn't break any rules this time! I've just been sitting on this rock!"
"Oh, don't play dumb, Yash," the Empress of the Frozen Skies sneered, crossing her pale arms. "You break the absolute laws of the universe as casually as mortals breathe air."
The Lord of the Deep Seas let out a deep, vibrating rumble that shook the surrounding asteroids. "You are exactly like your predecessor... the original Akaasha, the First God of Time, who died tragically in the Great War."
The Dragon narrowed its burning eyes, studying the sweating God of Time. "When a Primordial God falls and casts the ultimate Reincarnation Spell to be reborn, the absolute laws of the universe dictate they must lose exactly fifty percent of their original power as a cosmic toll. Yet... you did not lose a single fraction of yours when you became Yash. I was always quite surprised by that."
"That is because Time is not a straight line; it is a closed circle," Yash explained nervously, rubbing the back of his neck and smiling awkwardly. "When my predecessor reincarnated into me, he didn't transfer his power across a linear distance. He just folded the past directly into the present. I didn't lose any power because, technically, I am my own past. It's a temporal loophole."
To cheat the ancient laws of the universe is never a mark of supreme intelligence; it is merely borrowing time until the ultimate, devastating toll inevitably comes due.
"Enough explaining," Lumis interrupted, his voice perfectly polite but completely unyielding. "I must take you to the Original God now."
The Pinnacle of Creation The Creator's Throne
Lumis brought Yash to the absolute highest point of existence, an ethereal plane where the Original God sat upon his infinite throne of shifting galaxies and deep purple nebulas.
"I have brought the God of Time and Space, My Lord," Lumis bowed low, then vanished instantly into pure starlight, leaving Yash entirely alone with the Creator of the universe.
Yash looked up, forcing a brave smile and casually crossing his arms to hide his trembling. "So, Original God, or whatever you want me to quietly call you down here... first of all, 'Akaasha' was my ancient name from an era long gone. I go by Yash now. And second, why are you randomly calling me by my birth name?"
The purple nebulas making up the Original God's face instantly stopped shifting. The celestial temperature plummeted to absolute, unforgiving zero.
"I think you have completely forgotten your manners, Grand Duke Yash," the Original God's voice echoed, hitting Yash's immortal soul with the oppressive, terrifying, crushing weight of infinity.
Yash instantly dropped to his knees, his casual, arrogant attitude vaporizing into pure, primal terror. "P-Please forgive my rudeness, My Lord! Why have you summoned me?!"
"You broke the rules again, Yash," the Creator stated, the galaxies around him turning dark.
"When?!" Yash panicked, his mind racing through centuries of loopholes. "What did I do?!"
"When the Angel of Fate cast the divine magic of luck upon the pregnant Princess, you subconsciously interfered," the Original God explained, his omniscient gaze pinning Yash to the floor. "You could not bear the thought of your nephew's carriage taking too long to reach the safety of the Southern Summer Palace in the cold fog. So, you secretly, quietly folded the spatial coordinates of the dirt road, shortening their journey by exactly three miles without divine authorization. You manipulated mortal space."
Yash completely froze. He had done that. It was just a tiny, imperceptible spatial fold to help Lyra get out of the freezing forest faster! He didn't think the Original God would ever notice such a microscopic, harmless change in the vast universe.
The grand tapestry of destiny cannot tolerate even the most microscopic threads of unauthorized mercy; an entire universe can unravel from a single, stolen shortcut.
"Please forgive me this one time, My Lord!" Yash begged, pressing his silver forehead desperately to the cosmic floor.
"This is not the second, nor the third time you have done such things," the Original God replied coldly. "I am not in the mood to forgive your chronic arrogance today, Yash. Let us decide your punishment."
Yash began to tremble violently.
"Your punishment," the Creator decreed, "is that you are going to work directly under the Empress of the Frozen Skies as her subordinate servant. You will remain in her icy domain for the next few months. Exactly how much time you spend there will depend entirely on your discipline and your manners."
"NO!" Yash gasped in sheer, existential horror.
"Summon the Empress of the Frozen Skies," the Original God commanded the void.
A blinding flash of absolute, freezing ice shattered the air, and the Empress materialized perfectly. She dropped gracefully to one knee, her white hair cascading down her back. "You summoned me, My Lord?"
"From now on, the God of Time and Space will work under your direct, absolute command," the Original God stated.
The Empress of the Frozen Skies blinked. She looked down at the trembling God of Time kneeling pathetically beside her. "For how long, My Lord?"
"That is entirely according to your discretion. If his discipline and manners are poor, you may keep him as your servant for as long as you see fit."
On the outside, the Empress maintained a perfect, respectful, flawlessly icy expression. "As you wish, My Lord."
YES! the Empress screamed internally, her heart soaring. The bureaucratic paperwork in the Northern Galaxy has been piling up for three centuries! I have a slave! Finally, my crushing workload is going to decrease! Thank you, Original God!
"You may both go now," the Creator dismissed them, closing his supernova eyes.
Before Yash could even push himself up from the floor, the Empress of the Frozen Skies turned to him. She raised her pale hand and snapped her fingers with lethal precision.
Sizzle.
A freezing, glowing blue mark shaped like a shattered snowflake instantly branded itself painfully onto the back of Yash's neck. It was the absolute Mark of Subordination. Yash was now magically bound to her soul. He could only leave her icy, miserable domain when she explicitly allowed it.
Yash touched the freezing mark on his neck, shivering uncontrollably.
Why, My Lord?! Yash cried in his own mind. You could have temporarily sealed my divine power! You could have stripped my authority! Why did you send me to HER?! She is a freezing, heartless dictator!
There is no divine punishment quite as agonizingly effective as handing a chaotic, free spirited god over to a master of absolute, freezing bureaucracy.
The Empress of the Frozen Skies grabbed Yash firmly by the back of his collar, a terrifying, wicked smile finally curling on her pale lips.
"Come along now, Subordinate," the Empress whispered happily, her breath turning to frost. "We have three thousand years of cosmic ledgers to sort."