Chapter 356 – "This Is Yours"
The chamber trembled.
Y'golonac — no longer bothering to maintain Set's shape — twitched violently as more of its false skin peeled away, revealing a grotesque blur of mouths, eyes, and pulsing dark tissue beneath the illusion of a man.
And in its clawed, shifting fingers—
The heart of Osiris hovered.
Beating.
Glowing faintly green and gold, pulsing with memory.
The parasite's dozens of eyes locked onto it with savage hunger.
"If I consume it… I will be whole again," it hissed.
"A soul anchored to a divine vessel—strong enough to rise again. To begin anew."
It lunged.
A sickening roar echoed through the stone — more psychic than sound.
Isis shouted.
Osiris's hand reached out—
Too late.
But not for Alex.
He didn't blink.
Didn't chant.
Didn't raise his voice.
He just moved.
A flick of two fingers.
A shimmer of black and gold mana twisted space itself.
And the heart vanished from Y'golonac's grasp.
Reappeared instantly in Alex's hand.
He stood firm — golden cloak unmoved by the rising force around them, face unreadable beneath the wrappings.
He looked at Osiris.
And held the heart forward.
"This is yours."
Osiris's eyes widened.
He stepped forward.
And reached out.
His hand met Alex's.
The divine resonance was instant — like puzzle pieces finally snapping into place after millennia apart.
The gods around them gasped.
The heart pulsed once — and then surged into Osiris's chest.
Light bloomed across his entire form.
Power restored.
Balance completed.
A god made whole.
Y'golonac screamed.
It wasn't a scream of rage.
It was panic.
The opportunity was gone.
Its one chance to re-anchor in the living world — stolen in a second.
Alex turned his head slightly toward the shifting monster of mouths and writhing limbs.
"You should have stayed dead."
The light faded from Alex's hand.
And now stood Osiris — crowned, whole, complete.
His eyes no longer flickered with fatigue.
His posture no longer bent with strain.
His voice, when it came, resonated through the stone itself.
"You defiled my death.
You twisted my memory.
You wore my brother's face."
He stepped forward.
Each footfall rang like a gavel.
Y'golonac shrieked — all its eyes twisting inward, mouths screaming curses in a dozen languages not of this world.
"I AM A GOD BEYOND YOUR STARS—!"
Osiris raised his hand.
"No. You are nothing now."
The air shifted.
Judgment had been called.
Behind Osiris, the great scale of Ma'at manifested itself, golden and black — an astral vision, weighing truth and corruption.
One side carried the essence of Y'golonac's twisted soul — pulsing, screaming.
The other side carried a single feather.
The Feather of Truth.
The scale tilted.
Hard.
Unbalanced.
Irredeemable.
Alex didn't say a word.
He didn't need to.
This wasn't his battle.
It was Osiris's right — the god of the dead, the final judge of souls.
Osiris stepped forward and lifted both hands.
"You sought a body not to live… but to corrupt."
"You wore a god like a mask and poisoned history with your breath."
He extended his hand.
Chains of black light erupted from the air itself — coiling around the parasite in a flash.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
Each one a law, a binding, a final denial.
Y'golonac shrieked, struggling with impossible force, as the divine weight of true judgment crashed down.
"You are denied form," Osiris said.
"You are denied memory."
"You are denied death's peace, and denied life's gift."
He closed his hand into a fist.
"You are erased."
The chains exploded inward.
The creature collapsed in on itself — screaming not with pain, but with the horror of being forgotten.
And then—
Gone.
No body.
No echo.
No name.
Just silence.
Osiris lowered his hand.
The scale faded.
The chamber stilled.
And for the first time in an age, the world felt balanced.
The silence after Y'golonac's erasure was different.
Not hollow.
Not tense.
It was the silence of resolution.
Of something lost now found.
Of justice fulfilled.
They stood in the great chamber beneath the Temple of Silence — a place that had once hidden a parasite from beyond the stars, now burned clean by truth and light.
One by one, the gods turned to Alex.
First Ra, stepping forward, fire still coiled in his gaze.
"You restored what even time tried to bury."
"You brought back my son."
"And erased a name no god should have ever had to learn."
He lowered his head — not a full bow, but one few had ever earned.
"You have my gratitude, Alex of no temple."
Ma'at stepped forward next, touching her staff to her chest.
"Balance was broken for longer than we knew. It was not Thoth's math nor my scale that revealed it."
"It was you."
Thoth, ever silent, etched a single sigil into the air — Alex's resonance, captured in divine ink, stored in the Book of the Ever-Present.
Anubis, the guardian of souls, simply nodded.
That was enough.
Even Isis, with all her immortal sorrow, approached slowly and laid a hand to her chest.
Her voice was quiet, but full.
"Thank you."
Then came Osiris.
He stood tall — not as the lord of the dead, not as the one once lost, but simply as a man restored.
He faced Alex.
"May I ask you something?"
Alex inclined his head.
"Of course."
Osiris's eyes softened.
"When you placed the heart back into my chest… when the two pieces met…"
He paused.
"What did you feel?"
Alex's voice was quiet, but clear.
"Harmony."
He let the word hang.
Then explained.
"Your original heart and the one I created… they didn't reject each other."
"They… completed each other."
"The original gave your body its identity. The artificial one gave it structure and strength."
"Together… they made something new."
A beat.
"Not a copy.
Not a restoration.
But… a rebirth."
Osiris was quiet for a long moment.
Then he nodded once — slowly, reverently.
"Then perhaps I was never meant to return unchanged."
Alex looked him in the eye.
"No one ever is."
And as the divine wind whispered through the chamber once more, the gods of Egypt knew this truth:
A mortal had entered their realm.
Faced a forgotten god.
And reminded them what it meant to be whole.
Chapter 357 – "Let the World Celebrate"
The sun rose above Duat for the first time in a way it hadn't in eons.
Golden.
Warm.
True.
Across the temples of the Nile, in both living and spirit realms, bells rang.
Priests of the old rites wept as they felt the shift — not in faith, but in balance. The long-lost king had returned. And somehow, they all knew.
Word spread.
Fast.
Too fast.
By dusk, the gods of other pantheons had already begun whispering:
"Osiris lives."
"He walks again."
"The one taken by Set has risen — whole."
From Olympus to Takamagahara, from Asgard to the Emerald Courts of the East, invitations were drafted. Envoys were summoned. Some gods were stunned. Others suspicious.
And still more… worried.
Because every version of the tale included one strange detail:
"It was not Isis, nor Ra, nor even Thoth who restored him…"
"It was a man. A mortal. A healer in golden robes and black wrappings."
Back in Duat, preparations for the Celebration of Restoration were well underway.
Divine halls were decorated in green and gold.
An honor seat was prepared.
And Osiris himself — calm and regal — watched it all unfold with deep silence.
But when the others turned to find Alex, he was already gone from the center of the activity.
They found him by the gate to the mortal realm, his golden cloak drifting like a quiet farewell.
Ra approached him. "Will you not stay?"
Alex looked back, calm.
"This is your celebration, not mine."
Isis placed a hand over her chest. "You restored more than a god. You healed an entire balance. Let us honor you."
He gave a faint, quiet smile.
"I don't want to be honored. I want to go home."
The gods didn't understand.
But Horus did.
He stepped forward, facing them all.
"Let him go."
"He prefers silence to applause. Secrecy to worship."
"He didn't do this for temples or songs."
"He did it… because someone was broken. And he could fix it."
The gods fell silent.
No one objected.
Osiris approached Alex one last time.
He extended his hand.
Alex took it.
"Thank you," Osiris said softly. "Not for restoring me—"
He looked into Alex's eyes.
"But for doing it… quietly."
And without another word, Alex stepped through the veil.
Leaving the celebration behind.
Letting the gods rejoice.
While he walked — finally — home.
Olympus – The Hall of Skyfire
The high chamber of Olympus was filled with a restless quiet — the kind that precedes storms not of nature, but of consequence.
Zeus leaned forward on his throne, thunder dancing faintly in his beard. Around him stood Athena, Hermes, Apollo, and other gods of the Twelve, all gathered to discuss a most unexpected piece of divine news.
Athena broke the silence first.
"Reports from Egypt. Osiris… has returned."
The words hung heavy.
Hermes nodded, producing a scroll of shimmering gold.
"Confirmed by divine resonance. The god of the dead lives again."
A pause.
Then Ares, arms folded.
"By whose hand?"
Hermes glanced sideways.
"That's the mystery."
"Not Ra. Not Isis. Not even Thoth. Someone else."
Athena's brows furrowed. "A foreign god?"
Hermes exhaled.
"A name was spoken — unintentionally. Whispered by minor gods who were… less discreet."
He unrolled the scroll and read a single word aloud:
"Aten."
A quiet ripple passed through the chamber.
Even Apollo, who had been lounging lazily, raised an eyebrow.
"The god of light and healing from ancient Egypt? I thought Aten was little more than a symbol — a sun disc."
Athena spoke thoughtfully.
"That's what we all assumed. But if Osiris's resurrection came from his hand…"
She let the thought trail off.
Zeus's voice thundered softly.
"The Book of Aten."
The others turned.
"It appeared not long ago," Zeus said. "A healing tome. Said to contain knowledge that surpasses most divine medicine."
"It should not exist."
"Yet it does."
Asgard – Beneath the World Tree
High in the mists of Asgard, Odin stood at the edge of the Well of Mimir, reading divine echoes carried on the wind.
Frigg approached quietly.
"It's true. Osiris walks again."
Tyr, watching from a distance, spoke.
"Egypt rises in silence. No parade. No war drums. Just resurrection."
Odin spoke softly, voice grave.
"And the one responsible?"
Frigg lowered her gaze.
"They only gave a name. Aten."
Odin turned toward the horizon.
"The god said to have written a book of healing that can cure what even death cannot."
He took a long breath.
"A god no one remembers… yet who reshaped fate with a pen."
He tapped his staff once.
"Watch him."
"A god who does not speak loudly… is often the one to fear."
Osiris's return shook not only the heavens.
It echoed across the veins of the Earth.
In sacred chambers, encrypted archives, and behind sealed vault doors — those who watched the unseen world stirred.
The Vatican – Holy Division of Occult Affairs
Within the silver archives beneath Saint Peter's Basilica, holy symbols glowed faintly along the walls as cloaked clerics gathered.
Cardinal Michele Augustin, head of the Vatican's supernatural intelligence unit, laid the report down on the obsidian table.
"Osiris has returned," he said simply. "And the Egyptian gods did not deny it."
A whisper swept the room.
Another priest asked, "And the one responsible?"
Augustin nodded. "A name was confirmed."
He turned the page.
"Aten."
The room stilled.
Another priest swallowed.
"The same Aten who authored the healing book we acquired a portion of?"
"Confirmed."
A breathless silence.
Then Augustin added:
"We don't know if the resurrection ritual is in the book."
"But the world now believes it might be."
Magic Association – Hall of Grandmasters
In the crystalline tower of the Arcane Assembly, where the most powerful living magicians gathered, the Seven Immortals read the mirrored report in silence.
"That book was already revolutionary. Spells that repaired organ failure, reversed decay, restructured magical tissue…"
"And now its author is said to have resurrected the god of death himself."
The scroll shimmered as it updated live:
"Aten: Confirmed presence at the event. Status – Unknown. Nature – Unknown. Power – Unmeasurable. Intent – Undetermined."
"The book was priceless before," murmured the Divination Chair. "Now it may become the most sought-after text in existence."
Elsewhere…
In the frost-lit chambers of the Vampire Lords, blood-crystal relics pulsed in alarm.
In Alfheim, the High Elves summoned silent councils under moonlight.
In the dragon palaces of the Far East, celestial serpents coiled around jade oracles, eyes narrowed in contemplation.
And through all their councils, one shared fact echoed again and again:
The Book of Aten is now worth more than gold, relics, and thrones.
It is a symbol. A promise. A question.
Could resurrection… be real?
By agreement forged after its discovery, the Book of Aten remains in the joint possession of five global forces:
The VaticanThe Magic AssociationThe Vampire LordsThe High Elf CourtThe Eastern Dragon Families
Each faction guards a sealed vault containing one section of the original copy — all enchanted, protected, and monitored.
But now…
That might not be enough.
"Triple the security," the Vatican ordered.
"Move the segment to a deeper ward," said the Magic Association.
"Track all dimensional breaches within 10 kilometers," barked the Elves.
"Deploy watchers," hissed the Vampires.
"Don't blink," growled the Eastern Dragons.
Because now, every secret organization, black-market circle, and ancient cult had turned their eyes toward a single idea:
"Find the Book."
"Find the one called Aten."
Chapter 358 – "Welcome Home"
The air was different here.
Soft.
Warm.
Real.
No divine pressure.
No torches burning with judgment or time-slowed sanctuaries.
Just a late afternoon breeze brushing the garden hedges.
The moment Alex stepped through the veil, the golden cloak resting over his shoulders dimmed — his bandages unwrapped themselves into a loose black shirt, and the last shimmer of divine combat fell away.
He was home.
The door opened before he reached it.
Iris stood there.
Blindfold in place, but posture calm, waiting.
She said nothing — only stepped forward and placed a hand gently on his chest.
Felt the rhythm of his heartbeat. The unshaken stillness behind it.
"You're back."
Alex nodded once.
"Yeah."
Inside, the house was quiet.
A soft fire danced in the living room. The aroma of tea drifted from the kitchen.
From the couch, Ciel turned lazily and offered him a faint golden-eyed smile.
Morgan glanced up from a book in her lap, eyes cool but unreadably relieved.
Reyne, resting against the window, let out a quiet huff and muttered, "Took you long enough."
From deeper inside the house, a faint child's voice echoed:
"Papa?"
Yuka's footsteps thundered in — impossibly fast for her size — and she launched herself into his arms.
He caught her gently, lifting her with one hand as if she weighed nothing.
"You're late, papa. Iris-mama said you'd come back before sunset!"
Alex smiled and kissed her forehead.
"I got caught up. Some old friends needed help."
She leaned into him, pouting dramatically, then said, "It's okay. Papa's home now."
They sat down for tea shortly after.
No gods.
No thrones.
Just family.
Yuka sat on his lap, already halfway asleep with her arms curled around his chest.
Ciel refilled his cup wordlessly.
Iris sat beside him, fingers brushing his.
Morgan leaned her head against his shoulder.
Reyne, quietly, opened the window and let the soft evening breeze roll in.
"Welcome back," Iris whispered.
"This house is quieter when you're gone."
"But never warmer than when you return."
Alex closed his eyes for just a moment.
And let the stillness wrap around him like peace made real.
The house dimmed into evening.
The tea had cooled.
The warmth hadn't.
Alex sat with Iris beside him, her blindfolded gaze turned toward him — though she saw better than anyone in the room.
Yuka had finally drifted off in his arms, her tiny cheek pressed to his shoulder, her black hair rising and falling with his breath.
The other women moved quietly about the room.
Morgan rested against his side, listening in silence.
Reyne sat near the hearth, sharpening a blade out of habit, though it hadn't dulled in years.
Ciel sat cross-legged on the floor, golden eyes reflecting firelight.
They were waiting.
Not demanding.
Not pressing.
Just… waiting.
Until finally, Iris spoke.
"You went to Egypt, didn't you?"
Alex nodded slightly.
"The Duat."
"Osiris was still broken."
He gently brushed a hand over Yuka's hair.
"His resurrection was incomplete. His heart had been hidden."
"Something ancient — something forgotten — was wearing Set's face. A parasite from beyond this world."
He didn't give it a name.
Didn't need to.
They listened.
"I found the heart. Took it back. Gave it to him."
"Then I watched him judge the thing that defiled him."
His voice softened further.
"And I left."
Silence again.
A long, calm pause.
Iris placed her hand over his quietly.
"You never stay for the celebrations."
He gave a quiet smile.
"I don't need to."
She smiled back.
"That's why they always talk about you."
"But never understand you."
Ciel leaned her head against the back of the couch.
"You were gone only a day."
Morgan murmured, "Felt like longer."
Reyne muttered, "I knew something big happened. The air changed."
Yuka stirred.
Sleepily.
Murmured:
"Papa…"
Alex whispered gently, "I'm here."
She blinked slowly, then said in a drowsy mumble:
"Mama's gonna be mad…"
The room went still.
Alex raised an eyebrow.
Then narrowed his eyes — softly, playfully.
"…Yuka, you didn't sneak out from your mother, right?"
There was a knock.
No—a shimmer.
A flicker of radiant light danced across the front door, as if the sun itself had decided to politely announce its arrival.
The women turned.
Alex didn't move.
He already knew.
A moment later, the door opened by itself, guided by warmth.
Amaterasu stepped into the house.
She wore a flowing white and crimson robe that shimmered like the dawn. Her long dark hair glowed faintly with divine aura, and her eyes—normally soft with restrained elegance—were sharp and golden now.
Beautiful.
Radiant.
Unamused.
Her gaze fell instantly on Yuka—curled up in Alex's arms.
Yuka blinked her black eyes slowly.
Then quickly sat up, wide awake.
"…Mama."
Amaterasu's foot tapped once on the floor.
Not loudly.
But with terrifying precision.
"Yuka."
The little girl shrank back just slightly.
Alex raised a hand.
"She missed me."
Amaterasu turned her eyes to him—golden light narrowing.
Then back to Yuka.
"You. Snuck out."
Yuka held up a tiny hand, index finger raised.
"I left a note!"
Amaterasu took one slow, deep breath.
Then walked across the room—graceful as moonlight—and knelt in front of her daughter.
"You vanished from Takamagahara."
"The shrine guardians thought you were kidnapped."
"The clouds froze. The flowers refused to open. The sunbirds searched for hours."
Yuka blinked.
"…They did?"
Amaterasu nodded slowly.
"I had to promise the stars that everything was under control."
"Do you know what it means when a goddess has to say she's 'calm' while tearing apart half a mountain?"
Alex gently coughed into his hand.
"Technically, it's not her fault. I think she inherited her teleporting talent from you."
Amaterasu glared at him.
Then sighed.
Long.
Tired.
Affectionate.
She scooped Yuka into her arms.
Yuka clung to her mother for a moment.
"I'm sorry…"
Amaterasu closed her eyes, kissed her forehead, and whispered—
"Next time, at least take me with you."
The kitchen smelled of grilled herbs and miso.
Steam curled from freshly cooked rice and roasted vegetables. A simmering stew of lotus root, soft tofu, and light-seasoned broth bubbled on the stove — infused with divine-grade ingredients that Alex had casually prepared with one hand while holding Yuka with the other.
Amaterasu, once radiating authority, now sat at the table in relaxed silence. Her robe had loosened at the shoulders slightly, golden strands of hair falling messily over her collar.
She watched Alex move.
Watched as he stirred, tasted, plated.
Ciel, with sleeves tied up, helped set out the dishes with elegant precision.
Morgan, surprisingly, passed out small ceramic bowls without a word.
Reyne, half-grumbling, refilled everyone's tea like a sullen older sister trying to act annoyed and failing.
Iris, as always, simply remained beside Alex — close enough to hear his heartbeat, but silent in her presence.
And in the center of it all:
Yuka, now officially forgiven, sitting between Amaterasu and Alex, her tiny legs swinging off the chair.
"This is peaceful," Amaterasu said quietly, glancing around.
Her voice had softened.
She looked at the other women — not as rivals or deities, but as companions.
Ciel smiled faintly. "He always cooks like this when he comes back from something heavy."
Morgan added, "It's his way of saying he missed us. Without saying it."
Alex raised an eyebrow as he ladled soup into her bowl.
"You're all being way too sentimental tonight."
Reyne grinned.
"Says the guy who peeled every vegetable by hand."
Yuka clapped her hands once.
"Papa's food is the best in all the worlds!"
Iris added gently, "Even the gods whisper about it behind their altars."
That earned a laugh around the table — even from Amaterasu.
She smiled at her daughter.
Then looked at Alex, the corner of her lips tilting upward.
"Thank you for feeding us."
Alex nodded, passing her a small plate of grilled fish.
"You're home, too. That's all that matters."
The meal stretched late into the evening.
No prophecies.
No politics.
Just the flickering of lanterns, the gentle rise of tea steam, and the warmth of voices echoing across the wooden floor.
The house had dimmed into silence.
Yuka was asleep, curled beside Iris with her fingers gripping a piece of Alex's shirt like a lifeline.
Ciel and Morgan had vanished into their resting state.
Reyne had retreated to her room with a muttered, "Too much warmth. Gonna die of it."
Only two remained in the hallway beyond the softly flickering paper lanterns.
Amaterasu, robe now untied at the waist, sleeves loose, barefoot, stood by the open porch door with her arms folded.
Outside, the stars shimmered. The moon cast long shadows across the yard.
Alex walked up beside her, quietly offering her a warm cup of barley tea.
She accepted it with a soft murmur of thanks.
They stood there together for a while.
Silent.
At peace.
Until she spoke.
"Many of the gods panicked when Yuka vanished."
Her voice was low. Honest. Unusually tired.
"They blamed storms. Accused mischievous spirits. Some even suspected an attack from Olympus or Takamagahara's enemies."
She sipped her tea.
"I didn't panic right away. I searched."
A pause.
Then a faint sigh.
"But when I saw her shrine was empty… when even the divine birds couldn't find her…"
Her eyes lowered.
"I thought the worst."
Alex glanced at her.
"You held yourself together."
Amaterasu gave a soft laugh, barely audible.
"I burned a valley by accident."
Alex blinked.
"...A small valley?"
"Medium-sized."
Another pause.
Then she added:
"But I'm fine now."
She glanced at him, golden eyes calm again.
"Because she's safe. And because you held her."
Alex took a quiet sip of his own tea.
"She came because she missed me."
"And because she knew I'd catch her."
Amaterasu gave him a long look.
Then, very quietly:
"You always do."
She stepped closer.
Not intimately.
Just enough that her sleeve brushed his.
"This home of yours… it's small. Humble."
"But somehow, it feels safer than the entire heavens."
A faint smile touched her lips.
"Don't let her sneak out again."
Alex gave a dry chuckle.
"No promises. You gave birth to a little goddess, not a houseplant."
Amaterasu sighed, half-exasperated, half-affectionate.
"You're impossible."
Alex tilted his head.
"Still staying the night?"
"Of course."
She walked past him slowly, brushing his shoulder with her fingers as she passed.
"Because if I leave now… she'll sneak out again."
The morning air was soft and clear.
A gentle wind stirred the curtains as golden sunlight spilled through the windows — not divine, not radiant with power, but simple morning light, quiet and warm.
In the front yard, Yuka stood barefoot in the grass, her little hands gripping the hem of Alex's shirt.
"Do we really have to go…?"
Alex knelt in front of her, brushing a hand over her unruly black hair.
"You'll be back soon."
She pouted. "I like sleeping here more."
Amaterasu stood a few steps away, her robes perfectly arranged once again, her hair tied in a loose braid that she rarely wore in public. There was softness in her eyes this morning — no goddess fire, no divine pressure. Only a mother.
"You'll make them worry again," she said gently, kneeling beside her daughter.
Yuka glanced between her parents.
Then suddenly threw her arms around Alex's neck.
"Promise you'll visit!"
Alex smiled, wrapping one arm around her.
"Always."
Amaterasu stepped closer, fingers brushing down the back of Yuka's hair, smoothing it as she met Alex's eyes.
"Thank you."
"For last night. For the food. For everything."
He nodded quietly. "She needed it. So did you."
For a moment, it felt like they weren't god and mortal.
Just man and woman. Father and mother. Two people trying to raise a child caught between heaven and Earth.
Amaterasu leaned in — and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to Alex's cheek.
"I'll send word next time," she said, smiling faintly. "So she doesn't need to sneak away."
"That'd help."
She turned toward the shimmering gate she had summoned — a warm beam of light stretching between two sakura trees.
Yuka looked back one last time and waved with both hands.
"Bye Iris-mama! Ciel-mama! Morgan-mama! Reyne-mama!"
Then she grinned at Alex.
"Bye Papa! Don't let them bully you!"
Alex chuckled. "I'll try."
And with that, the goddess of the sun and her half-divine daughter stepped through the gate —
And were gone.
Chapter 359 – "Among Gods, One Kept Silent"
High above the mortal world, veiled behind shifting constellations and hidden celestial threads, a secret divine summit convened — one not called openly, nor marked by thunder or prophecy.
Instead, it gathered in silence.
By fear.
By curiosity.
By a single name:
Aten.
The chamber was circular, vast and suspended within a dimension untouched by time.
At its center floated a low, luminous platform — surrounded by cosmic pillars that shimmered with the runes of a dozen pantheons. Here, gods and emissaries sat — not in hierarchy, but in caution.
Zeus, cloaked in stormlight, leaned forward.Odin, calm and one-eyed, watched from the shadows.Enlil of the Mesopotamians stood stiff and proud.Quetzalcoatl, serpent-feathered and radiant, observed silently.Minor deities and watchers sat between them, murmuring.
Each had their reasons to be present.
None were comfortable.
Zeus was the first to speak aloud.
"The resurrection of Osiris is no longer rumor."
"Egypt confirms it. And the power that restored him was not from any of their own."
He paused, gaze sweeping the others.
"They say a name: Aten."
Odin's voice followed, slow and deep.
"A name from myth. A sun god discarded. Lost in sands older than the Nile."
"And yet…"
He nodded toward Zeus.
"You say you confirmed something else."
Zeus's jaw tightened.
"I sent Hermes."
A few gods stirred.
"He infiltrated one of the five vaults — the Magic Association's archive."
"He copied what he could of the Book of Aten."
He raised a golden scroll wrapped in stormlight.
"Hundreds of spells. Healing at a level that rivals even divine ritual. Reversal of soul damage. Restoration of fading mana lines. Purification of spiritual poison."
Enlil frowned. "And the resurrection?"
Zeus shook his head.
"Not there."
"No spell in the text describes raising the dead."
"Which means… either it was hidden…"
Odin nodded.
"…Or it was never written at all."
The room buzzed.
A few gods exchanged uneasy glances.
Quetzalcoatl finally spoke — his voice like wind through jungle leaves.
"So this Aten… creates a book that changes mortal healing… then raises a god… and leaves no trace."
"Does he seek worship?"
Zeus: "No temples."
Odin: "No offerings."
Enlil: "No name in prayers."
Silence fell again.
And at the edge of the meeting, sitting quietly on a floating step with her legs swinging gently, was a single girl with silver-white hair and a playful smile.
Skuld.
The youngest of the Norns of Fate.
She had said nothing.
She didn't need to.
She already knew.
As the gods debated theories and conspiracies, Skuld watched stars flicker through the chamber walls and rested her chin in her hands.
He really did it, didn't he?
Revived Osiris. Changed the world again.
Her golden eyes sparkled mischievously.
Big brother… you're always making things more interesting.
Let them guess. Let them search. I won't spoil it for them.
It'll be more fun this way.
My lips are sealed.
She hummed softly to herself — a lullaby no god could recognize — and thought of the cotton candy he'd promised.
You did something amazing again, and no one even saw the whole picture.
But I did.
She smiled wide and kicked her heels in the air.
I'm your little sister after all. And I'll never betray your secrets.
Chapter 360 – "House of a Thousand Rooms"
It started with a simple thought:
"…It's getting a little crowded."
Alex looked around the living room.
Ciel was lounging on the couch reading an enchanted tome with gold-lit pages.
Morgan had taken over the west balcony with a spell-forged reading chair and three protective circles around her tea tray.
Iris sat quietly near the sliding door, blindfolded as always, but her awareness stretching across the entire house like a second security system.
Reyne had kicked her boots off and was already asleep on top of the kitchen counter.
And then there were the others — not currently present, but always drifting in and out of this growing home.
"I need to expand," he muttered.
But Alex didn't call contractors.
Didn't draft blueprints.
He simply stepped into the center of the house, placed his hand on the wall—
And whispered a quiet spell layered with reality-folding algorithms, high-level dimensional reinforcement, and some personal touches of absurd genius.
The world twisted.
1 Hour Later…
What had once been a modest family home now concealed a space larger than most castles, nested within the same outer footprint — courtesy of dimensional folding and quantum-alignment stabilization arrays woven through every inch.
"You expanded the house... inside the house?" Iris asked.
"Yep."
"It's a mansion now," Morgan noted flatly.
"Technically it's a multi-core, high-capacity micro-dimension. Mansion-shaped."
"Nerd," Reyne muttered, but she was already exploring with a smirk.
Three private hot springs (indoor, outdoor, and moonlit)Spacious private bedrooms with enchantment-tuned climate controlCommon kitchen & dining area larger than most restaurantsA massive central bathhouse with separate goddess-only zone (strictly enforced by Mira)Training dojo, library, greenhouse, and even a tea gardenHidden teleportation corridors so no one gets lostHigh-tech security system that includes:Dimensional breach alarmsIdentity resonance gatesA playful AI named A-Tenko, disguised as a fluffy floating fox
When Hanabi, Mary, and Mira returned later that evening and opened the door...
"…Did you build a castle inside the house?" Mira blinked.
"I love it!" Mary cheered.
"Does it have a confessional booth?" Mira added with a grin.
"No," Alex said instantly.
Ciel stepped into the new onsen wrapped in a towel and calmly declared:
"This was inevitable."
Morgan was already claiming a tower library.
Reyne tested the indoor waterfall with one finger.
"I might forgive you for being late to dinner," she muttered.
Iris smiled faintly.
"It still feels like home."
And somewhere near the back, Yuka's favorite plushies had already been moved to a new, oversized bedroom…
Ready for when she visited again.
They split up in groups, laughter echoing through the endless halls.
Ciel quietly explored the inner garden atrium — a perfectly balanced ecosystem with floating lily ponds and golden koi that only responded to divine energy.
Morgan tested the rune-engraved book lifts in the library tower — pleased to find that her favorite texts always floated to her hand before she asked for them.
Reyne discovered an indoor archery range that responded to her mana signature by generating increasingly difficult moving targets.
"He even included dragon-forged walls so I wouldn't break it by accident," she muttered, vaguely impressed.
Iris found the meditation chamber. Soundproofed. Dim. Designed for total mana clarity.
She smiled behind her blindfold.
"He remembered."
Mira and Mary accidentally triggered the mirrored hallway, which led them into a rotating spa-courtyard where the steam smelled faintly of strawberries.
"We're claiming this," Mira declared instantly.
"I didn't agree—" Mary started.
"Claimed!"
Eventually, they all reunited in the central residential wing — which looked less like part of a house and more like a tranquil resort palace.
That's when they arrived at the final door.
Alex's bedroom.
The doors were tall. Heavy. Glowing faintly with defensive mana.
When they opened, what greeted them was not just a room.
It was a cathedral of comfort.
A massive open space of dark wood and starlight glass ceilingsFloating drapes that moved gently on magical breezesEnchanted lamps that adjusted to the mood of the occupant
And at the center—
A bed.
No. Not a bed.
A continent of softness.
A magnificent, oversized sleeping surface the size of a banquet hall rug.
It could easily fit twenty people. Maybe more.
The women stopped and stared.
Morgan raised an eyebrow.
Ciel blinked once.
Reyne crossed her arms, visibly trying not to smile.
Mira tilted her head and whispered, "He prepared for a war, huh?"
Mary blushed furiously.
Iris tilted her head. "This is… practical."
Alex cleared his throat.
"You all like to sleep with me. All the time."
"So… I made sure you'd be comfortable. Just in case."
A beat.
Then Ciel nodded solemnly.
"Acceptable logic."
Morgan walked past him and threw herself into the center of the bed without hesitation.
"It's warm."
Reyne followed, flopping down like a lazy cat.
Mira sighed dreamily. "Now we just need silk pajamas and a snack tray."
Mary turned red. "This is so embarrassing…"
Iris reached for Alex's hand and whispered, "Thank you."
He stood at the edge, looking at all of them — these strange, divine, brilliant, chaotic women who had somehow become his family.
And thought to himself—
Maybe it's not a house anymore.
Maybe it's… a home.