“You are finally awake, my Lord,” a voice passed gently through my mind as I opened my eyes.
I was stunned to realize that not only had the pain vanished, but I felt wonderful. Energy ran through me, the mental exhaustion I had been carrying was gone, and even my mood felt strangely positive.
What happened? Wasn’t I supposed to fall asleep for six months?
I looked around, my vision still settling into focus.
My realm was exactly as it had been before the pain swallowed me. The Crimson Guardian’s manifestation towered above everything, and the stars hovered around it, still tethered to the trunk as before.
I looked around, trying to spot the changes. All that tremor and bubbling mist had resulted was only one thing - the mist had pulled back, and my realm looked vast now. I had always felt the mist was a natural part of my dwelling, something that belonged to me, and being unable to see through it had only strengthened the impression that my realm stretched endlessly in every direction.
However, now I could see the edges. But in some strange way, that clarity made the space feel larger instead of smaller, even if I no longer viewed the mist as my own and instead saw it as a boundary. The point where my rulership ended.
Where is the Angel?
Only then did I remember it, the being I had barely managed to see as consciousness slipped away.
Wasn’t that the Angel’s voice I heard?
My mind remained hazy, and it took a moment before I could gather myself enough to search for the creature. But there was no sign of it anywhere. Everything in my realm looked unchanged. Everything except for the absence of the Angel’s embryo.
And Karla.
She was gone too.
In an attempt to find them, I tried to float toward the place I had shaped as my dominion, the space where I usually pulled believers or other deities, but when I leaned forward I lost my balance and went face-first.
What…
I never hit the floor that was now dark and hard. The mist that covered it before was gone, yet something stopped me before I could fall.
“My King, I beg forgiveness,” I heard from the side as the hand holding me up loosened. I caught myself quickly with my divine power before I could disgrace myself entirely. A god slamming into the ground would hardly look divine.
When I straightened, I finally noticed what had changed. My figure was no longer a floating, shapeless mass. I had two legs, two arms, even fingers. My body still looked like a form sculpted from crimson mist, but at least it resembled a body.
I flexed my hands, watching the mist closely as it maintained its shape. Then I tried jumping. Just a small leap, or that was what I intended, but my body lifted far higher than I expected.
“My Lord?” the voice came confused as I landed. I had been so excited by the discovery of my new body and that I no longer resembled a crimson Casper that I had forgotten everything else.
I turned, and the creature was kneeling before me.
His head was bowed, long strands of silver hair spilling toward the ground. He knelt on one knee while the other rose high enough to almost touch his chin.
I tried to speak on my own at first, but no sound left my throat; even my new body seemed unable to form sound. So I pushed divine power into the words instead.
“Rise,” I commanded.
I wanted a better look at him. There was no fear and no caution in me. For reasons I could not explain, I felt a sense of familiarity and trust, the kind someone might feel toward a family member they had grown up with.
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The Angel obeyed immediately and rose, though I noticed he kept his eyes lowered. I still couldn’t see their color, but the eyes weren’t what pulled my attention anyway.
The wings did.
Two enormous, feathery wings unfolded slightly behind him. They were red, the rich red of healthy blood, with a faint golden glow dancing across the feathers. His shoulders shifted as he straightened, and the wings twitched as if eager to stretch fully, yet he held them back.
“My Liege,” he said, his tone deep yet strangely velvet-soft. Hearing him speak out loud instead of through thoughts made his presence feel more real. “I have a request, if I may.”
He lifted his head only a little, just enough for his eyes to become visible. They were crimson, both of them. My brief worry that even my angels might end up heterochromatic, which would confirm my connection with the Goddess, faded at once.
His face was long, with a straight, almost Greek nose. The upper half of his face - the broad forehead, the thick brows, and the sharp bone structure - gave him an aura of authority and confidence. But the lower half, the thin red lips and skin that was more lively than a Velmoryn’s yet paler than a human’s, softened him. It made him feel approachable, direct, almost friendly.
Was his appearance random? Or was it shaped to suit whatever role he is meant to have? And what even is his role?
My thoughts drifted. The haze of exhaustion was finally lifting, and with it came a flood of questions I hadn’t had the strength to consider before.
Did I fail to raise my rank? No, my form is clearly different now. I should check my status window and his as well…
I was pulled from the thought as my Angel’s dark armor shifted, the plates rattling softly.
“Speak,” I said, remembering that he had asked for permission.
“May I be given a name, my King?” he asked. The plea was genuine. I sensed the urgency in his voice, the excitement beneath it, and beyond that, something deeper. I was finally beginning to sense emotions again. My powers were returning, slowly but surely. “I cannot use most of my powers without one.”
“Is that why you need a name? To gain more power?” I asked.
“Yes,” he answered immediately.
But he was lying. The excitement he felt at the idea of receiving a name from me overshadowed everything else. He was like a child waiting for a gift from a parent, and that anticipation mattered far more to him than any practical increase in strength.
So he can lie to me. Even if this lie is harmless, I am not sure I like the idea of my Angel being able to deceive me…
As I studied him, he lowered his gaze again and opened and closed his mouth several times, searching for the courage to continue.
“My Lord… gaining more power does matter,” he said at last, “but I feel that the name you give me will decide who I am. I know I was born from you, and you are my Lord and Father, but I do not know anything else about myself.”
For a moment, I considered pressing him about the lie, but the uncertainty in his voice softened the thought. I still remembered how I had felt when I first awakened in this world. Perhaps that was why I understood the confusion and the fear he might be carrying.
I considered several names. Feanor came to mind immediately. Would the greatest Elf’s name not suit this powerhouse standing before me? It certainly would, but I had no desire to give him an Elven name.
I need something that represents a beginning. A first creation. A first child. This is my very first Angel and the very first life I have created. His name must reflect that…
Adam.
That was the only name that surfaced in my mind. No matter how hard I tried to approach it from different angles, the same name kept returning to me. But I wasn’t going to name my Angel Adam. It was too biblical, and more importantly, it revealed my past. If the Goddess was truly from Earth like I suspected, then there might have been several gods in this world who had also been Humans in their previous lives.
Giving away such a detail about myself might not have been immediately dangerous, but the less my enemies knew about me, the better.
So instead of Adam, I chose a different one.
“Your name will be Aurelion.”
The moment the thought formed, even before the sound finished traveling through my realm, Aurelion glowed. He rose from the ground, though his wings did not move. Crimson energy coiled around him, winding through the air like long strands reaching toward him. It reminded me of tentacles, but without the malice. My divinity was not restraining him; it was embracing him.
Only then did I realize how limited he had been without a name. The faint golden aura on his feathers brightened, and the crimson around him surged outward. The vague image I remembered from before losing consciousness, that blurred shape of gold and red approaching me, finally made sense.
Aurelion was now covered in thick, burning light, both golden and scarlet at once. He slowly descended toward the floor, and if he had seemed imposing before, now he was something entirely different. Even I could feel the weight of his aura, though nothing about it felt hostile.
He must have depleted the power he was born with while I was asleep. Without a name he couldn’t draw on my divinity, so he must have relied solely on his own. But what did he spend it on?
To me, it felt as though I had been unconscious for an hour at most. But perhaps I was wrong.
“Aurelion,” I called, pulling him from the excitement he had sunk into while testing his new strength. “How long was I asleep?”
He looked to the side, clearly weighing the response before answering.
“My Liege, in the mortal world two hundred and sixteen nights have passed.”
So I was truly out for six months…