The god of ferocity knew the god of beauty. Unlike his shallow, distant acquaintance with the dream god, they had clashed directly—more than once.

The god of calamity’s gaze was impossible to ignore. It was too overt, too full of worry and inner conflict. The god of ferocity sneered inwardly, baring his teeth ever so slightly.

What’s that supposed to mean? Did they think he would hesitate? As if. He wasn’t going to end up pathetic like Eios. Never.

With that thought, he raised his head without shame and looked straight at the other god.

—The so-called god of beauty, embodiment of all things beautiful in this world. Beauty, subjective to all, somehow became unified upon him. You couldn’t even describe what he looked like—every glance dazzled, every second spent looking shook your soul.

Try to depict it clearly? Even the greatest painter would break their brush before the first line was drawn, weeping not from frustration, but from joy. They had seen the apex of creation—the final destination of all artistry. How could they not cry?

And now, the god of ferocity, one of the only two present to witness it, fell into a stunned silence.

What did he see? It was like lying beneath the sea, looking through deep, swaying water at distant stars—and then, those stars all began to fall toward him. That sudden, cataclysmic brilliance cracked through his chest like thunder. The burning meteors set the entire frozen sea ablaze.

The god of calamity, wisely, had already closed his eyes—choosing to observe the world through spiritual perception instead. And through that, Eios could see every micro-twitch of his brother’s muscles tense up.

—But this wasn’t the tension of a fighter bracing for attack. It wasn’t instinctive battle-readiness. No, it was simple rigidity. A total collapse of composure.

If it weren’t such a bad time, Eios honestly wanted to say: bro… you’re even more down bad than me.

Neither of the brothers said anything. So, the last to arrive—Hexin, now wearing the guise of the god of beauty—spoke first.

“Bullying my little brother while I’m not around? Hm?”

The faint curve of a smile appeared at his lips, cold and razor-thin.

He was angry. There was no doubt about it.

And yet—even his anger was beautiful.

The god of ferocity, more than anyone, knew how dangerous this being was. Born of the abyss, yet somehow exalted to one of the highest gods of the divine realm—he was not someone to provoke. And yet, in that moment, the god of ferocity felt he could almost understand why so many, throughout history, had willingly descended into the abyss, mad with devotion.

For him, anything made sense.

The god of ferocity slowly closed his eyes, hiding the flicker of something inexplicable. When he opened them again, the usual arrogance had returned.

Even Eios, who knew him best, couldn’t guess what his brother was thinking now.

The god of ferocity raised a brow and said with mocking ease, “You sure do care about him. The moment you sensed him awakening, you came rushing. I don’t think you’re half as eager with that so-called divine realm you serve.”

Eios winced internally. Of course he’s rushing—this is his most precious little brother! But this was a terrible time to bring up something so… sensitive. Smart people should know when to shut up. Honestly, Eios had no idea what his brother was trying to accomplish anymore.

Then, to Hexin, the god of ferocity said, “How long has it been since we last saw each other? A million years?”

“Brother,” Eios interjected with a sigh, “you saw him ten thousand years ago. Don’t exaggerate.”

As he spoke, he quickly looked away from Hexin’s face, afraid of being caught in that enthralling power again. His eyes darted to the slumbering boy in his arms.

He’d only meant to clarify, but unexpectedly, the god of ferocity’s expression faltered for a brief moment.

—Was it really that recent?

“I’m not here for a family reunion,” the god of beauty said flatly. He looked down at his twin, still asleep, and only after confirming his peaceful state did he allow a tiny, imperceptible curl of relief to touch his lips.

“If your goal is to weaken the divine realm or disrupt the balance between it and the abyss, then go find someone else—or get stronger yourself. Don’t bother us.”

It was a clear warning.

But of course, someone had to be unbothered by danger.

“And what are you speaking to me as, exactly?” the god of ferocity asked, voice tightening with something dark. “If you’re speaking to me as a high god of the divine realm… then you’re not abyss anymore. What I do has nothing to do with you.”

At this, Hexin finally looked directly at him.

“…You’re angry we left the abyss?”

“You three brothers are exactly the same,” the god of ferocity said sharply. “The eldest—born from the abyss, the most favoured—and yet he left. Then you came, and your twin followed.”

His gaze burned. “Traitors.”

Hexin went quiet. Eios immediately sensed disaster and began frantically signaling his brother to stop talking.

The next second, Eios realized the three figures that had just been standing in front of him had suddenly vanished.

…No, not vanished.

He reached out and swept his hand through the air—ripples shimmered faintly like disturbed water. Years of experience told him immediately: the god of beauty had used his authority and pulled his brother into an illusion.

…Crap. Was his brother about to get smacked?

At that moment, the god of ferocity also realized what was happening.

Not that he cared. Danger had never been something he factored into decisions. He and that person had grown further apart for a long time now. Maybe this was fine. Let it end in this illusion—let him die in here. Wouldn’t be much of a loss.

But that train of thought was quickly cut off.

He became aware of something dark welling up from within. Since seeing him, the restraint he’d forced on himself had reached a breaking point—and this illusion, laced with that seductive power, was beginning to magnify everything. He was losing control.

…Terrifying. Just like that person. But as soon as he recognized what was happening, he tried to hold on to clarity—

Then he saw where he was.

The illusion had fully formed: an endless land of black, a world locked in eternal night. Not a single trace of light. This was… the abyss. From a long, long time ago.

He looked down at his own body and realized with a jolt that he had shrunk—smaller than he remembered. The clothes he wore were no longer the ones he’d arrived in; they were tattered, stained. He looked like a half-dead fugitive.

Anyone who knew the god of ferocity would never have recognized this little wretch as him. They would have laughed, called it delusional.

But he knew—it was him. The him from long ago.

“You okay?!”

“You suddenly passed out just now—scared me to death! I think we should go back, chirp!”

“Yeah, yeah! Waaaah, those monsters were terrifying! If we keep going, we’ll get eaten!”

A chorus of tiny, anxious voices chirped at his side. He turned and saw exactly what he expected: a handful of little puffballs, all trembling together like freshly hatched chicks. Seven or eight of them huddled close, their voices overlapping.

They were new lifeforms of the abyss, recently born. Weak, helpless, completely unequipped to survive outside. But back then, they’d been his only companions—besides his younger brother.

The puffballs were clearly terrified and begged him to turn back.

He quickly realized when this illusion was set: that long, perilous journey through the abyss. He wiped away the blood of defeated monsters from his face and stood up, expression flat.

“If we don’t move forward, we die. You think there’s any path to go back?”

The puffballs fell silent.

He was right. Their journey had been constant life-or-death—escaping, dodging, barely surviving. They were so close now. Turning back wasn’t just cowardly—it was impossible.

“…Are the legends true?” one of them whispered, trembling. “Are those three really here?”

The others began chirping again—nervous, hopeful, afraid. Finally, they all shouted together:

“They have to be! [The three brothers—born of the abyss, most beloved by the ‘mother’, the original gods who dwell at the abyss’s core.] That’s what all the legends say! They’re the gods who guard this place!”

“Yeah!” Encouraged by each other, the puffballs finally found a sliver of courage. Their eyes brightened with hope.

“If we find them, we’ll be safe! No more hiding from monsters! Brother too—he won’t have to keep getting chased around because he smells too tasty!”

“…Don’t call me ‘brother,’” the god of ferocity muttered.

“But Eios calls you that! Isn’t that your name?”

“……”

Right. Back then, Eios was still the uptight one who used honorifics.

He dropped it.

Instead, he leaned on an unfamiliar black plant, forcing himself to his feet. His body ached in a hundred places—every wound throbbed with pain so vivid, it was hard to believe this was just an illusion.

But it wasn’t just a dream.

Because it had all happened once before.

And if this memory had a name, it would be:

—the beginning.

His very first meeting with that person.