"Indeed, it was meant to test you."
Tyche found Gaea's reply even more absurd, yet the Earth Goddess laughed aloud with unrestrained amusement.
"Chaos should never have used our power to create the world," Gaea declared, laughing heartily. "Isn't it hilarious? The Creator God was ultimately consumed by His own creation. Chaos now slumbers within the Origin."
"His divine essence was fragmented, giving birth to concepts such as earth and night, and I was the first to awaken."
"We inherited the Creator's might and became Primordial Deities, while He could only watch helplessly as we usurped the world He had shaped."
Gaea laughed so hard that tears streamed down her face, trembling like a willow in the wind. "The Laws consented to my departure only after I threatened to unravel the earth. All I must do is provide them with a successor, and I shall finally be freed from this endless imprisonment."
"You've grown far beyond my expectations. Soon, I shall be free!"
Tyche remained silent for a moment. "Am I your chosen successor?"
Gaea nodded. "If you are willing, everything I possess—my Primordial Divinity and divine station—shall be yours. You too may threaten the Laws with the collapse of the earth and win your freedom."
"You desire to return to the world of your origin, don't you? I have always watched over you. You rejected Helios' love all these years because something still held you back, am I not right?"
Calmly closing her eyes, Tyche replied, "Helios fell in love with me under Eros' influence. Even Khaos and Zeus—were they not also part of your design?"
"You have lost nothing at all!" Gaia interjected eagerly. "Helios' love for you will remain eternal and true! And with Zeus ascending as King of Gods, you, as his divine mother, shall attain supreme glory!"
"If there is one thing I have learned throughout my long existence among deities," Tyche murmured, "it is the principle of equivalent exchange."
Her gaze lowered, concealing the emotions in her eyes. "I wielded the power of Fate without restraint, and in return, Fate offered me bonds—亲情, 友情, and love. What shackles would I bear should I accept your Primordial Throne?"
For a moment, Gaea hesitated before sighing sorrowfully. "Time. You shall maintain the earth's energies for an extended period until the Laws accumulate enough Origin essence equivalent to a Primordial Deity. Only then shall you be released."
"But surely you have sensed it already—the crystalline wall system you introduced into this world continuously transforms chaotic energy, strengthening it. Combined with the Origin essence drawn from sustaining the earth itself, your freedom shall come swiftly."
Meeting Gaea's hopeful gaze, Tyche slowly shook her head. "I do not believe that is the full extent of the cost. Perhaps Nyx would have been more forthright."
Tyche understood well—if she outright refused, she might never leave the Earth Temple alive.
Desperate hope once kindled and then extinguished could drive Gaea to unpredictable extremes. For now, stalling was the wisest course.
A flicker of disappointment crossed Gaea's face, quickly replaced by renewed confidence. "My offer remains unparalleled. The Earth Temple shall welcome you whenever you choose to return."
Without delay, Tyche departed but did not immediately proceed to the Underworld. Instead, she returned quietly to the Isle of the Unseen.
There was an undeniable inconsistency in Gaea's explanation. If she were to take Gaea's place as Primordial Deity, when would the next successor recognized by the Laws emerge? And what conditions would they need to meet?
These were critical questions deserving careful consideration—yet Gaea had deflected them entirely, offering no clarification.
Still, this visit had revealed Gaea's true intentions. She would not move against Tyche unless negotiations collapsed completely; otherwise, the Laws might demand compensation for the loss of the crystalline wall's power—an outcome Gaea, impatient and unwilling to prolong her confinement, would surely wish to avoid.
Only dryads and sirens remained on the Isle of the Unseen. Tyche's arrival disturbed none of her attendants.
Doubt and anxiety surged within her. Amidst the relentless events of recent days, she felt drained, both in mind and spirit.
Sighing deeply, she floated upon the surface of the pool, emptying her thoughts. Half-asleep, she was startled awake by a warm touch upon her face. A golden-red hibiscus flower had fallen onto her cheek—its large bloom exuding no fragrance, yet unsettling her further.
The nymphs had learned of Zeus' ascension to Kingship from the Rainbow Goddesses, and their jubilation was predictable. How glorious it was that the son of their Mistress had become the new King of Gods.
Their spirits lifted, the attendants moved about their tasks with newfound cheerfulness.
Iris and Arke brought news of Zeus' request—Atlas, persuaded by his brother Prometheus, had relinquished the recently obtained rulership. The King of Gods required the presence of the Elder Deities to witness the first divine succession since his coronation.
Tyche saw no reason to refuse. This was clearly an opportunity for Zeus to assert his authority before the gods. Gladly, she arrived at Mount Divine to support her son.
After his ascension, Zeus renamed Mount Otryes to Olympus, signifying its status as a beacon of radiance. This time, Tyche was spared the tedious feasts she detested. The gods, considerate and respectful, gave her ample space, refraining from approaching her unnecessarily.
As she sat lost in thought within the garden, Astraea interrupted her reverie. Despite the imprisonment of Leto and Eurybia, the Night Goddess bore Tyche no resentment. The goddess of astrology, ever loyal, simply sat beside her friend and remained there in quiet companionship.
"Leto has successfully integrated the domain of fortune and ascended as the Goddess of Fortune," Astraea said gently, sensing Tyche returning to awareness.
"She, like you, inherited the Fated nature of the Oracle. It was only natural. I suspect she shall soon ascend to the rank of a Middle-Tier Deity."
Smiling softly, Tyche sent her blessings to Leto.
Noticing her friend's melancholy, Astraea remained silent. Side by side beneath the pomegranate tree, both goddesses gazed at the blooming flowers in tranquil contemplation.
This unspoken companionship warmed Tyche's heart.
"Astraea," she finally whispered.
"I am here." The Night Goddess' voice was as gentle and serene as the night sky itself.
"What if… one day, you discovered that your life had been scripted by another? Would you still refuse to believe it?"
Astraea turned slightly, meeting Tyche's gaze. "More often than not, the answer is known long before the question is asked, isn't it?"
The gods gathered atop Mount Olympus, reveling in the grandeur of Zeus' ascension as King of Gods. Days and nights passed in an opulent feast, a spectacle of indulgence and splendor. Unlike her son, who remained at the center of attention, Tyche had quietly stepped away from the revelry. Zeus, now sovereign, bore the weight of countless divine greetings with forced vigor after the war's end.
Atlas' voluntary relinquishment of his throne disappointed many among the pantheon, who consoled themselves only with the knowledge that another Elder God seat remained unclaimed. Yet none realized how transparent their ambitions appeared to Zeus' keen gaze.
Aphrodite, emboldened by her recent triumph in a daring gamble, danced with unrestrained grace. At last, the gods abandoned their mockery, regarding her with newfound respect befitting a Primordial Ruler.
Tyche's arrival momentarily stilled the fervor of the celebration. Every deity, including Zeus himself, rose in reverence to greet the Sky Goddess. Yet such honor barely stirred her interest, and she took her seat upon her own divine throne with quiet detachment.
The eight remaining Elder Deities were all present. Atlas then stood, declaring before the assembly that he had sensed an opportunity to ascend to a higher divine tier, one he could not afford to squander while bound to Olympus.
Though each god knew the truth behind his departure, they played their roles with practiced ease. Meanwhile, Tyche idly toyed with the scepter symbolizing her station, her thoughts drifting once more to Gaia's proposition. It was indeed tempting—if Gaia truly succeeded in breaking free from the world's chains, perhaps Tyche could follow suit.
Yet all these claims came solely from Gaia herself, and their authenticity remained uncertain. This imbalance of knowledge left Tyche vulnerable. Nyx and Tartarus might currently oppose Gaia, but their desires aligned in this matter. Who was to say they wouldn't conspire together against her?
As Tyche pondered, Zeus smoothly reclaimed Atlas' vacant seat and bestowed it upon the ever-idle Khaos.
To the gods, it seemed natural enough—Khaos accepted the scepter with feigned delight under his brother's watchful eye, and settled beside his mother with a placid smile.
Now that Leto would assuredly take her place as Queen of Gods, only three Elder Throned remained. With so many vying for them, competition would be fierce.
Zeus, ever cunning, kept those final seats dangling like carrots before a donkey—promised, yet forever out of reach.
Hecate, now fully established as the Goddess of Wishes, approached Tyche. Her once-ominous aura had mellowed into serenity. "Lady Tyche," she murmured, "the Goddess of Night sends word—she awaits you by the River of Obsession."
Tyche's eyes widened. Was Nyx watching Gaia's movements so closely? This meeting offered the perfect chance to verify the truth of Gaia's words.
Leaving behind a convincing projection, Tyche slipped away into the Underworld. Styx had already learned of Nyx's imminent arrival. The goddess of Fate stood upon the river's surface, gazing toward the nearby Lethe. Along its banks, once-pure lilies, nourished by the blood and tears of the dead, had turned crimson. Their once-delicate scent now grew rich and intoxicating, stirring memories of the departed's deepest regrets.
Stepping from the portal, Tyche barely had time to exchange greetings with Styx before Nyx's veiled form materialized silently before the two Fates.
"Goddess Nyx." Both deities bowed deeply, honoring the Night Goddess for her rare visitation.
Nyx's shadowed eyes peered from beneath her dark veil as she extended a slender finger, trembling slightly, toward Tyche.
It was the first time Tyche had seen such visible emotion from the usually inscrutable goddess. Yet she felt no fear—Nyx, if seeking freedom like Gaia, would not willingly prolong her confinement.
Following Nyx's silent urging, Tyche reached out, fingertips brushing gently. In an instant, visions flooded her mind—a circle of robed seers adorned with fragrant herbs, painting cryptic symbols upon their faces with vibrant pigments. They swayed rhythmically, willow branches in hand, chanting an ancient hymn:
"Autumn orchids, wild and fair,
Grow lush beneath my chamber's air.
With verdant leaves and blooms so white,
Their fragrance fills me with delight..."
These were verses from the Chu Ci !
Startled, Tyche looked up at the trembling Nyx. Tears welled in both their eyes. A long silence passed before they laughed together, sharing a moment of profound understanding.
"You've spoken with Gaia, I presume?" Nyx's voice rang soft and clear, like pearls colliding. "But she has told you only half the tale."
"She threatened to unravel herself unless the Laws released her. But the Laws would never allow such a departure, nor did they wish for such a confrontation. Chaos still possesses the power to retaliate. Were Gaia to truly dismantle the earth, the Laws would suffer grievous wounds, shattering the delicate balance between Chaos and the Laws. If Chaos were to rise again, Gaia could never escape unscathed. She stole the most from Him—no distance would conceal her."
"That is why she needs a successor—one with the potential to become a Primordial."
Nyx fixed Tyche with a solemn gaze. "And this must be your choice. Should you willingly accept Gaia's mantle, you would also inherit the duty to aid the Laws in subduing the slumbering Chaos—an obligation you could not refuse."
"I understand now," Tyche said slowly. "The Laws require the aid of the Primordials to destroy Chaos completely. But Gaia, impatient and desperate, seeks escape—and thus requires a replacement."
Nyx inclined her head. "The absence of even one Primordial weakens the Laws. Thus, we must help her find a successor."
Her eyes gleamed with insight. "She acts too hastily. A helpless Creator God is a rare opportunity. With the Laws' guidance, we can peer into every secret of Chaos—a chance unparalleled!"
"The world favors outsiders greatly; the new knowledge they bring is essential to its evolution. And in return, the world shall grant us strength beyond measure."
Recalling the resonance she had felt when introducing the water cycle and the crystalline wall, Tyche found undeniable confirmation in Nyx's words.
"I am willing to assume Gaia's power and assist the Laws in restraining Chaos. But tell me—how should I proceed?"
Without hesitation, Nyx revealed a startling truth: "Demand half of the Supreme Divinity she stole from Chaos! The essence of the Creator God may grant you a fragment of the Primordials' true nature—and perhaps even serve as a stepping stone toward becoming a Creator yourself!"