Freya looked at Nova, confused, as though the words he had just spoken were something she had never expected to hear from him. After all, he was the strongest being in the universe, second only to Father. He possessed more power than almost anyone in existence, yet he stood before her talking about entering the mortal realm because he wanted to know what it felt like to bleed.
Nova avoided her gaze, almost like a child who was afraid of being scolded. It was rather unusual for him, especially considering how confidently he normally carried himself. Freya wasn't angry with him, though. She was interested in his proposal, but she was also trying to understand what had brought him to such a decision.
"Well, I won't lie," she finally said. "I half expected you to say something along these lines, so I'm not sure how exactly to react."
Nova looked up at her.
"You've been gloomy lately," she continued, her voice softening. "I've noticed it for a long time. Even when you're smiling or spending time with me, there are moments when you look like you're somewhere else entirely. I've wanted to ask you about it, but I thought you'd tell me when you were ready."
"I want you to live your life the way you want, Nova. I truly do. But I also know what I'm about to say is selfish. I want you next to me. I don't know if I can live without you."
Her last words came out more quietly than the rest. Nova could see the uncertainty in her expression, and the sight made him feel rather guilty. He had spent so much time thinking about everything he wanted to experience that he hadn't properly considered how his decision might affect her.
He reached for her hand, gently interlocking his fingers with hers before drawing a little closer.
"Don't worry," he said, giving her a reassuring smile. "I won't be able to live without you either. You know that. Besides, we'll be communicating with each other daily, so you won't have to worry about losing me."
"Daily?" Freya asked. "You're talking about living among mortals, experiencing their limitations, and getting hurt like they do. How much of that will you still be able to do if you're always reaching back into Heaven?"
Nova considered the question. It was a fair point, and he couldn't pretend he had worked out every detail of his plan.
"I haven't decided how everything will work yet," he acknowledged. "But wanting to live as a mortal doesn't mean I want to abandon everything I have here. I want to experience struggle, fear, and pain. I want to know what it's like to work toward something instead of already having it. None of that changes how much I love you."
Freya studied his face for a moment before shaking her head, smiling despite the sadness in her eyes. She still disliked the thought of being apart, but she understood how much it meant to him. Her smile finally turned into a soft laugh. Nova gently wiped away the few tears that had gathered beneath her eyes, and she leaned into his touch before wrapping her arms around him. He held her close, letting the silence settle between them. There was still a great deal to discuss before he left, but for the moment, she was relieved that he had finally told her what had been troubling him.
After a while, Freya drew back and turned toward the black hole again. Her expression brightened almost immediately as she remembered the creation she had left unfinished.
"Anyway," she said, raising one hand toward it, "I've been thinking about where to keep this little one."
Nova smiled as she returned to caressing the black hole, her earlier enthusiasm gradually returning.
"I was thinking of putting it into the folds of the Andurian Veil," Freya explained. "It's far enough from the mortal systems, but close enough that I can keep an eye on it. You know how fragile they are. One wrong pull, and it's all dust and memory."
"You said you were going to keep it instead of putting it in the new galaxy."
"I am keeping it. The Andurian Veil would simply be a nice place for it to stay. I can't leave every one of my babies floating around my chambers forever."
Nova glanced at the enormous mass of darkness suspended beside them and raised an eyebrow.
"I suppose that would become a little crowded eventually."
"Exactly. See? You understand."
He tilted his head, a smirk appearing at the edge of his lips. "You're such a good mother. The Outer Heaven goddesses should take notes from you. They spend so much time looking after their celestial children, and somehow their angels and newly formed gods still manage to be more volatile than the mortals themselves."
"You know what?" Freya said, suddenly looking thoughtful. "Maybe I should educate the Outer Heaven goddesses on how to handle their angels. I might host a presentation day for everyone. Even some of the gods in the Outer Heaven are irresponsible."
Nova watched her for a little longer before another thought occurred to him.
"I still like the way you baby them," he said. "It makes me wonder how our own child will turn out. Hopefully, our child takes after you, because I'm far too impulsive."
Freya turned toward him, looking almost offended. "I made them. The black holes are my babies, so of course I'm going to look after them. Besides, you destroyed half their ancestors. Someone has to balance out your extinction tantrums."
Nova laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It wasn't a tantrum. It was a cosmic correction."
"That's what you always say."
"Because it's true."
"And I also hope our child takes after me," Freya added, giving him a pointed look. "Because Father knows how impulsive you can be."
"So we agree, then."
"On that one thing, yes."
"I think this one has potential," Freya said, returning her attention to the black hole. "I can meld it a little further, add some controlled time slips, and perhaps even let the mortals observe it eventually. Give them a glimpse of something they're not ready to understand."
Nova chuckled, the sound echoing faintly through the beautifully decorated room. Wherever he looked, Freya's chambers reflected her love for life and creation. Even something as destructive as a black hole appeared peaceful under her care.
"Can you picture their faces?" Freya asked, growing excited again. "The mortals, I mean. They'll be staring up at the sky, watching this thing ripple with time distortions, all while thinking it's simply a void."
"And then they'll give it some ridiculous, poetic name," Nova replied. "God's Breath, perhaps. Or the Eye of Eternity. All without realizing it's one of your babies out on a little stroll. They might not even recognize it as a black hole, considering how massive it's going to be."
Freya laughed and placed a hand on his shoulder. "A little stroll? You're making it sound as if I'm taking it for a walk."
"Well, you are planning to let it wander around where mortals can see it."
"It's not wandering. It's developing." Freya pointed at a small spiral forming along the edge of the black hole. "Look at that. See the way it's chewing through spacetime?"
"It's teething."
Nova stared at her for a moment before bursting into laughter. Freya joined him, and soon neither of them was able to stop.
Their divine bodies glowed faintly as their amusement spilled out into the chamber, neither of them bothering to suppress the warmth of their presence. The sound of their laughter carried through the room, growing louder as Freya continued making increasingly ridiculous remarks about her creation.
Eventually, Nova exhaled and began to settle down. Freya was still smiling when a sharp knock suddenly rang through the chamber door.
Both of them turned toward it.
A second knock followed, louder than the first, vibrating through the room with enough force to make Freya frown.
"Well," Nova said, his smile fading slightly, "I think we both know who that is."
"He could at least knock normally," Freya muttered.
They moved away from the black hole, which remained suspended safely within Freya's control, and approached the entrance. Another impatient knock sounded just as Nova reached the door.
He pulled it open.
Standing outside was a tall, blond man, nearly the same height as Nova. His hair was blond, his eyebrows were blond, and even his eyes carried a brilliant golden color. His entire appearance seemed to radiate light, as though every part of him had been carefully designed to announce what he represented.
It was Apollo, the Supreme God of Light.
He looked thoroughly irritated.
"Do you have any idea how loud you two are when you laugh?" Apollo demanded. "It's unbelievably annoying. I could hear you from down the corridor."
Nova stared at him, unimpressed. "Then perhaps you should stop listening."
Apollo's expression tightened. His gaze shifted toward Freya for a moment before returning to Nova, and the irritation in his eyes gave way to something much less pleasant.
"And you," he continued, addressing Nova, "you know you can't simply reincarnate in the mortal realm whenever you please. You're supposed to oversee the God of Destruction in the Outer Heaven. You understand that, don't you?"
Nova raised his eyebrows, a teasing smirk appearing on his face. Of course Apollo would find some reason to interfere. Even when he made a fair point, he had a remarkable talent for making it sound like an accusation.
"The God of Destruction in the Outer Heaven can take care of himself," Nova replied, his voice growing firmer. "I hardly even need to help him because he's smart enough to understand what he should and shouldn't do. He's been fulfilling his responsibilities perfectly well without me constantly standing over his shoulder."
"That doesn't mean you can abandon your own responsibilities."
"I never said I was abandoning them. I said I wanted to experience life in the mortal realm. There's a difference. So, please excuse me if I want to live my life the way I choose."
Apollo's jaw tightened. A faint golden light gathered around his fingers, and the Divinity of Light began to spark across his hands. For a brief moment, he came dangerously close to activating Luman Break, the power rising in response to his anger before he forced himself to restrain it.
He knew better than to attack Nova over an argument, especially while standing in front of Freya's chambers.
But his hatred had never been limited to disagreements over divine responsibility.
Apollo had always wanted Freya for himself. What he felt went far beyond ordinary jealousy. He wanted to possess her, to have her belong entirely to him, without respecting her wishes or the fact that she had chosen someone else. His desire was disturbing, but in his own mind, he saw nothing wrong with it.
Nova, meanwhile, treated Freya as his equal. They loved each other, laughed together, and enjoyed the sort of closeness Apollo had never been able to obtain through all his pride and power. What irritated Apollo even more was how easily Nova seemed to achieve everything he wanted.
To Apollo, Nova was a better version of everything he believed himself to be, and he despised him for it.