Nova lay entwined with Freya, his body curled around hers, the big spoon to her little spoon. Beneath the silken blankets, their bare skin pressed close, warm and intimate. Freya slept with a gentle smile, her golden hair spilling across the pillow. Nova stirred, his crimson eyes fluttering open, roused by the quiet hum of her chambers.
He knew the gods and goddesses, from High Heaven to Low Heaven, had overheard their night of passion. As the God of Destruction, supreme in nearly all things, he shrugged off their whispers. What could they do? His prowess was unmatched, his presence undeniable.
Rolling onto his back, he stared at the ceiling, his crimson eyes glinting like twin embers. No mortal trick like colored contacts crafted their hue; they were the mark of his divinity. A miniature black hole drifted lazily through the chamber, a mere trinket in Freya's cosmic decor.
He reached out, his fingers brushing the black hole, and it collapsed into nothingness with a faint pop. Nova rolled his eyes, feigning nonchalance, as if Freya might have noticed, though she slumbered peacefully. Her serene face drew his gaze, and a pang of longing stirred within him.
I'll miss her. I wish she could join, but the other three won't permit. Those bastards, following her around like a dog. He thought, his face showcasing his annoyance at the other three Supreme Gods.
He yearned to ask her to join him on Earth, to share in the mortal adventure he craved. Yet, he knew she would refuse; not from lack of desire, but from duty's unyielding grip. Freya's role as the Goddess of Creation bound her to a higher purpose.
She wove the fabric of existence, crafting stars, planets, and wonders for mortals to discover. Her creations guided them toward enlightenment, elevating their fleeting lives. Nova's task of shattering lifeless worlds paled in comparison, a footnote to her grand design.
The other three Supreme Gods would never permit her departure. They held Nova in scant regard, their respect for him a flickering ember at best. Freya, however, was their beacon, their guiding star, obeyed as if she were their creator, despite their shared origin in the Universe's dawn.
Silently, Nova slipped from the bed, careful not to disturb Freya's slumber. He donned his standard attire: a sleek, black tunic threaded with crimson, mirroring the chaos of his domain. His movements were deliberate, each step a quiet farewell to the divine realm he was leaving behind.
He paused at the edge of the bed, gazing at Freya's sleeping form, her golden aura soft in the dim light. A resolve hardened within him; Earth awaited, a world of chaos and possibility. He would descend alone, but her memory would linger, a tether to the divine.
Stepping toward the chamber's exit, he laid one final glance at the floating stars. His hand grazed the air, and a faint ripple of destructive energy pulsed outward, unnoticed. With a steady breath, he crossed the threshold, ready to embrace his new life as a mortal.
Nova stepped toward the chamber's exit, his heart set on Earth, but Freya stood before him, blocking his path. A silken blanket draped her form, her golden eyes blazing with indignation. Her cheeks puffed out, rounded like perfect spheres, betraying her anger at his near-silent departure. She glared, as if he'd dared to leave without a farewell.
He had indeed considered slipping away, knowing Freya's duties would soon consume her. The other gods, from the three Supreme Gods to the lesser deities of Low Heaven, would clamor for her attention, barking demands like restless hounds. A goodbye, he thought, might only complicate her day. Yet, her presence now demanded otherwise.
"Where were you going without kissing me?" Freya asked, her tone childish yet sharp, fully awake and brimming with irritation. Her lips pursed, accentuating her mock pout, though her eyes held a genuine sting of hurt.
Nova sighed, his crimson eyes softening. "Of course not, Freya. You know I wouldn't leave like that," he said, though inwardly he admitted: I considered it, but I knew a kiss was the least I owed her. He stepped closer, his presence steadying her agitation.
Freya's expression softened, her body yielding as he leaned in, their lips nearly meeting in a tender farewell. But before the kiss could land, a figure intruded, his presence like a spark igniting kindling.
Apollo, the God of Light, stood grinning, his smugness aimed squarely at Freya. His golden hair gleamed, and his eyes twinkled with calculated mischief, as if he'd timed his interruption to perfection.
Nova's jaw tightened, anger flaring, but he drew deep breaths to quell it. Apollo's grin widened, a devilish curl that taunted Nova's restraint. The God of Light reveled in his provocation, believing he'd stolen a moment from his rival. But Freya acted first, her patience for Apollo's games long exhausted.
With a flick of her wrist, Freya summoned a radiant wall of shimmering light between her and Apollo. It pulsed with her creative power, unyielding to his attempts to shatter it. Apollo pounded against it, his fists glowing with futile brilliance, but Freya's strength outmatched his. Nova, smirking faintly, refined the wall with a touch of his destructive energy, ensuring only he could dismantle it.
The couple exchanged a glance, their smiles mirroring one another's triumph. They leaned in, their kiss deep and deliberate, savoring the moment as Apollo's muffled screams echoed like a child's tantrum.
The God of Light's fury stemmed from an ancient wound: his unrequited love for Freya, kindled at the Universe's dawn. From the moment of their creation, he had adored her, worshipped her, yet she always chose Nova, her heart bound to the God of Destruction.
To Apollo, Nova was the embodiment of evil, his destructive essence a blight against the light. He had once pleaded with the Universe to banish Nova, to purge his rival's darkness, but the Universe remained silent.
Their rivalry had erupted in a clash eons ago, leaving Apollo battered, sprawled on the cosmic floor with Nova's foot pressing against his head, unraveling his very essence until the Universe intervened.
Since that defeat, Apollo's hatred had festered, his thirst for revenge sharpening. Nova's descent to Earth was his chance to confess his love to Freya again, free of interference. Yet, even this plan crumbled, his schemes as futile as ever. Freya's loyalty to Nova was unshakable, a truth that gnawed at Apollo's core.
The radiant wall dissolved, and Nova and Freya pressed their foreheads together, their bond reaffirmed. Nova cast a sly grin at Apollo, whose face twisted with envy, his eyes burning with impotent rage.
Freya stepped back, her gaze shifting to Apollo with a weary sigh. "No, Apollo," she said firmly, her voice cutting through his hopes. "My heart belongs to Nova, as it always has. Leave us be."
With that, she turned, her blanket trailing like a comet's tail, and retreated into her chambers, the golden light dimming as the door sealed shut.
Apollo stood frozen, his fists clenched, his golden aura flickering with fury. His chest heaved, and his eyes narrowed, fixed on the spot where Nova had stood. I'll make you regret this, Nova, he thought, his mind seething. You'll descend to Earth and I'll ensure your mortal life is a torment you'll never forget. With a final, venomous glare at Freya's closed door, he vowed to himself that Nova's journey would end in ruin.
Nova, unperturbed, met Apollo's glare with a smirk before his form shimmered and vanished, teleporting to Earth to begin his new life.