Orion stood motionless before the Multiverse Tree.
Before him, a living, colossal entity pulsed with the glow of billions of destinies. Its leaves danced like tiny golden suns, each representing a soul, a choice, a consequence.
But Orion did not look at them all.
His focus was on a single branch.
A fragile one, almost imperceptible… yet unstable.
Alive.
Icarus.
"I understand…" he murmured again, now with a note of fascination.
His thoughts swirled around the boy and the Celestial Sword he had entrusted to him days earlier.
The Celestial Sword Astraeus—even though it was a divine weapon with cosmic roots—remained incomplete. It was an egg of power, sealed, awaiting maturity alongside whoever wielded it.
And Icarus… he was no ordinary cultivator.
"He did not become completely… 'destinyless,'" Orion reflected, lightly touching the silver line that represented Icarus's soul. "There are hesitations. Forces trying to rebalance him. The sword senses this. It is waiting… but it accepted him nonetheless."
The energy in that branch pulsed in response, as if agreeing with his words.
Then Orion furrowed his brow slightly. A subtle current of unease ran through him.
The silence… not the cosmic one, but that of the other Primordials.
Something was too quiet.
"Why the silence?" he whispered.
His eyes turned toward the core of the Multiverse: a spinning, chaotic void, where the essence of Primordial Chaos manifested as an eternal spiral of light and shadow, creation and ruin.
He knew he was being observed.
Chaos never slept.
It never spoke directly… but it was always there.
Watching.
Judging.
『DING』
The notification reverberated with a sacred echo.
『The Primordial System and the Primordial Chaos exchanged information』
The energy around Orion trembled.
"Hmm…"
『Primordial Chaos judged that you have not completely broken the Balance』
He closed his eyes for a second, absorbing the implications.
The laws governing the multiverse were not absolute… but they were ancient.
And even he, a Primordial, knew that tampering too much with the fate lines of an inferior being could create effects he could not control.
『The Primordial System suggests that the host not exceed the imposed limits. Even with infinite power, you are still under observation by Primordial Chaos』
Orion exhaled slowly, as one who both accepts and protests at once.
"Chaos watches me…" he said, in a low voice.
"…And Icarus… what role will you have on the final board?"
At last, he withdrew his fingers from the glowing branch.
The Multiverse Tree pulsed in silence.
He would not interfere again.
Not now.
Walking among the veils of the cosmos, Orion traversed realities as one strolls through a familiar garden.
The plane between the Realms was a living tapestry. Soundless waves that were not sound but meaning.
Creation itself whispered as he passed.
But then…
An explosion.
Not of destruction, but of light.
Pink.
Red.
Golden.
A living, pulsating energy, both delicate and violent.
Something impossible to ignore.
"This is… unusual."
Orion projected part of his consciousness, expanding it like an ethereal mirror. What he saw… made him stop.
In a lower plane
A young woman danced between death and enchantment.
Her body spun across the battlefield like a spiral of grace and destruction. Her long pink hair floated like enchanted veils, and her pale skin reflected the light like a living moon. Her dress was daring, decorated with silver and gold filaments that moved like cosmic serpents.
And her eyes…
Two pink jewels, as deep as human feelings, as mysterious as portals.
The deities around her—mercenaries, warriors, assassins—fell one by one.
They did not bleed.
They did not cry out.
They simply… succumbed.
Lost in themselves, as if confronted by their own most intimate pains, their most dangerous desires. Each was defeated by a version of themselves.
Was it magic? Enchantment? Dao? Everything and nothing at once.
Intrigued, Orion cast his aura.
And she felt it.
From afar, her eyes met his.
The battlefield paused.
The world seemed to hesitate, as if time needed permission to continue.
She looked… and smiled.
"Who are you…?" she murmured, as if speaking to the wind.
Orion answered without moving his lips. His presence was enough.
"Only an observer."
But his words echoed with a calm that made mountains bow.
She walked.
The distance between them evaporated.
Space yielded.
She stopped before him.
Her aura was a mixture of perfume and enchantment, of affection and lethality.
"I am Selene, Goddess of Enchantment, Illusion, and Feelings" she said, with a smile. "And you, mysterious observer… have a gaze that disarms even a goddess."
Orion smiled with his eyes.
And with a gesture, the scene around them transformed.
The battlefield vanished.
In its place sprang a celestial hall, shrouded in silver mist, with columns made of constellations and a floor of stellar memory.
"Orion," he said. "God of Reality and Desires… among other things."
Selene raised an eyebrow.
"Hm… now I'm truly interested."
"Why were they hunting you?" he asked.
"Insecure kings. Weak nobles. They fear anyone who can touch others' emotions… and expose them" she replied, without regret.
Orion nodded.
"Emotions are powerful. They shape worlds as much as swords. Perhaps more."
"And what do you want from me?" she asked, now serious.
He extended his hand.
"That you see. See beyond what you have felt. Beyond desire."
Selene hesitated.
But then, she smiled and took his hand.
Reality around them dissolved like cosmic silk being gently pulled.
The ground, the air, time—everything lost form, and a new plane was born before them: a chamber suspended between space and memory, where walls did not exist and stars projected themselves around, as if the entire universe bowed to the intimacy of that moment.
Selene blinked, disoriented.
Her feet now touched what seemed to be a floating crystal floor, supported only by pillars of pure energy.
Looking down, she saw galaxies spinning like flowers in an impossible garden.
A non-existent breeze caressed her hair.
And the sky… was made of memories.
"This is…" she began, her voice choked by the magnitude of the place.
"A reflection of what you carry inside," Orion replied, taking a few steps ahead.
She followed him, each step resonating in her senses like the beat of a cosmic heart.
"You created this for me?"
"No. I only granted you access," he answered. "This plane is a lens that shows the truth of whoever enters it. The multiverse reacts to your spirit. The enchantment is yours. I merely… revealed the frame."
Selene smiled, touching her own lips. There, without realizing it, her body ceased exuding charm—and her essence, now naked, still hypnotized.
"You brought me here to show me something?"
Orion turned, his eyes glowing like two expanding nebulas.
"I brought you here to see if you can handle something you have never mastered: the truth about yourself."
She went silent.
Behind all the laughter, the self-confidence, the spells and illusions, there lay a restlessness.
A part of her that, despite everything, feared losing herself in her own charms.
And then, the stars around them began to move. Images formed in the crystal sky—fragments of her childhood, the first moments of magical awareness, the hungry, covetous glances she had always received from others.
Memories that shaped who she was… and wounds she had learned to hide behind smiles.
"You are made of desire," Orion said. "But also of need. You know how to attract everything… yet you still search for something that cannot be enchanted."
Selene took a step back, touched to her core.
"Stop," she murmured. "This… this is too intimate."
"All that is powerful is intimate. And all that is intimate is fragile," he said, walking slowly toward her. "But it is from that fragility that bonds are born that cannot be broken."
She stared at him, her eyes moist for the first time in ages.
"Why are you doing this?" she whispered.
Orion raised a hand, and from the air condensed a small pink sphere—not magical, not divine.
Only pure emotion.
He handed it to Selene.
"Because even gods need to be reminded that they are not perfect. And that they do not have to be."
Selene pressed the sphere to her chest, feeling an unexpected warmth spread through her body.
For a moment… she wept.
Not heavy tears of pain, but small pearls of liberation.
She, who knew every enchantment, every trap, every game… for the first time was touched by someone who did not wish to possess her, but to understand her.
"You do not want to dominate me," she said, her voice choked.
"I only want you to exist. Truly."
Orion smiled.
And then… the plane dissolved slowly.
They returned to reality.
Back on the same field where it had all begun.
Days later…
Selene reappeared in the Realm of Enchantments, her floating abode of mists, mirrored halls, and invisible gardens.
But something had changed.
Her creations were gentler.
Her spells… more honest.
And those who approached her now felt not only desire or illusion—but respect.
At the top of her tower, she gazed at the sky.
"Orion… what are you?"
Her heart beat differently.
Not from passion, but from transformation.
She was still the Goddess of Enchantment.
But now… she was enchanted by what she could become.
On the Multiverse Tree, new branches emerged.
One stretched toward Icarus's.
Another grew in Selene's direction.
And above them all, a mysterious branch—thick, shimmering, and still nameless—began to blossom.
Orion watched with a discreet, almost melancholic smile.
"So it is… the symphony has begun."
And the multiverse… began to listen.