"But Dax," Gramps said, staring hard at the containment tube, "if you say she's your woman… why is she floating in something that looks just like the others?"
Omin turned slowly toward me, his gaze steady and unreadable.
"I changed her genetic code," I said. "She's far from human now. She's healing."
Gramps froze. His lips parted slightly as the implications sank in.
This boy… is a monster. What if he altered my genes too? Made me something closer to a god?
He began to dream.
---
I broke the silence with a question that sliced through the room like a blade.
"Where were you, Father?" I asked flatly. Then, almost playfully: "In my past life, you abandoned me… didn't you? Why?"
I tilted my head, curious.
"Was it because I was weak?"
Omin's eyes flared wide, the mask cracking for a breath.
"I would never—"
But I didn't care. The past held no weight anymore. Those emotions? I'd outgrown them.
This was a new life—my life. And I intended to enjoy every moment of it.
Internally, I grinned.
"But Father," I said, spreading my arms slowly, "I'm different now. I'm better. I'm useful."
Omin's cold stare softened. The light in his eyes shifted—hesitation, guilt, maybe even pride.
He was falling.
I dropped to my knees. A perfect gesture. I nearly laughed out loud at my own performance.
"Dax, get up," Gramps muttered, irritation and confusion mixing in his tone.
He stepped forward, heavy boots clicking on the floor.
"Hmph. Can't believe I raised a son like this…" he said, voice gruff. Then, quieter: "Get up, my boy."
He placed a hand on my shoulder.
"It seems I didn't raise you right. I'll scold you hard enough to make up for the past."
He chuckled, but his laugh faltered. A chill crept up his spine. Something wasn't right.
For a moment, he stood frozen. Then he simply said:
"…I'm sorry."
Their suspicions were cleared—for now.
And with that weight gone, I asked the question that had been itching at my mind.
"Grandpa… what is that thing latched onto you?"
His face darkened.
He sighed.
"Long ago, I devoured the corpse of an evil dragon god… and drank from a divine relic. Oshun's Bowl."
His gaze turned inward, distant.
"The bowl was alive in a way. It held strands—no, *strings*—of faith. I was meant to reach the pinnacle."
"Strings of faith?" I echoed, leaning forward. "What are those?"
He laughed, the sound hoarse but genuine.
"Haha, Dax, don't be so impatient. You're far from ready to understand all that."
Then, after a pause:
"Faith belongs to the divine. And divine items… they're made from the essence of gods themselves."
My curiosity deepened, but something told me to just listen. So I did.
He continued:
"Oshun's Bowl… it fused my soul with the shattered essence of that evil god. The price of that power is that I now carry him inside me."
I nodded slowly.
I had a plan—a clear path forward. I was going to break into the Vanishing Realm.
But before I could say anything more, Omin's body stiffened. His expression twisted.
Rage.
The air changed.
The room darkened. The floor groaned. The walls trembled with invisible pressure.
"Father," I said carefully, watching him.
"What's happening—?"
> *Unstable energy wave detected.*
> *Unstable energy wave detected.*
Omin's hair lifted, floating, as an unseen force surged around him.
The air screamed. One of the drones sparked—then cracked, like a bone snapping in an iron grip—
BOOM!
It exploded into smoke and metal fragments.
"Calm down!" I snapped, stepping forward.
"Omin!" Gramps shouted, his voice slicing through the storm.
And in an instant—it was gone.
The pressure vanished like it had never existed. The room stilled. Omin exhaled, his eyes dimming.
My heartbeat slowed, but my mind raced.
*I'm surrounded by monsters.*
And gods help me… I was thrilled.
Gramps turned to Omin, voice low.
"We have to tell him," he said. "He'll find out eventually."
Omin nodded, then looked at me with that same old weariness in his eyes.
---
Then Gramps continued.
"Fifteen hundred years into the Odama life cycles," he said, "I was forced to act."
He paused.
"It was the day… we lost your mother. To a god."
My breath caught in my throat. My thoughts spun.
*Odama? Taken by a god?*
I didn't understand. Not yet.
Gramps must have seen the confusion written on my face.
"The Odama Realm is the invisible realm that lie's between the Magic Emperor Realm and the Vanishing," he explained. "Those in the Odama realm… are known as the Little Immortals."
His voice deepened.
"I was about to seal the last fragment of the shattered god's soul… when the Blood River Cult struck."
My brows furrowed.
"Why? What did they want?"
Gramps met my eyes.
"Your mother," he said. "She bore one of the Ten God Physiques. Number six: the Vessel Body."
The words hung in the air like a curse.
The Vessel Body.
I understood immediately. She wasn't just powerful—she was meant to contain power.
A divine chalice.
I etched every detail into my mind.
"Blood River…" I whispered. The name left a bitter taste in my mouth.
A storm brewed in my chest.
Not confusion. Not fear.
Just rage.
Gramps saw it. He nodded solemnly.
"I know how you feel. Even with all this achievements… you're not ready . Not with your current strength."
He stepped closer, eyes narrowed with certainty.
"But you will be. With time."
He rested his hand on my shoulder again.
"For now… we deal with the present."
I looked up at him, the storm behind my eyes cooling into something more dangerous.
"I might have a way to help you, Grandfather."
My smile was warm, almost childlike.
"But… it comes at a little cost."