Master of the System

Kosmos glared at the barrier surrounding Vremya’s home. It was quite obvious that the old man wasn’t going to let her in, and judging by the responses to her follow-up questions, Kosmos could only come to the conclusion that Vremya was ignoring her because he hadn’t said a word after denying his involvement in Gravitat’s and Istoriya’s disappearances. Kosmos stood outside with her hands on her hips, thinking about her next move. If Vremya was back, then that meant his fast-time world should be operational as well. There were a few herbs she wanted to grow; the god of alchemy had used all of them in his preparations to fend off the titans, so he only had a few seeds remaining, which he had given to Kosmos.

With a wave of her hand, Kosmos split the space beside her, opening a portal. She stepped through and frowned upon seeing what was on the other side. There was another Vremya, but instead of the usual clothes he wore—his birthday suit—he was wearing actual garments. Beside him, there was a lady who was sitting right next to him in an oddly appropriate yet inappropriate manner. Without her even knowing it, her lips had tightened into a frown, causing her cheeks to cramp. Other than Vremya and the lady, there was also Pravos sitting in a corner of the room with her personal computer resting on her knees. Only the god of justice noticed, or acknowledged, Kosmos’ entrance. Pravos nodded, and Kosmos swept her gaze away, focusing on Vremya. She had appeared behind the old man, and his attention was firmly placed on the computer in front of him.

The lady noticed Kosmos first, her eyes widening comically upon seeing the god of space. The lady stared as if in a daze, but a moment later, she tapped Vremya on the shoulder. “Someone’s here for you.”

Grandpa Vremya turned his head and crinkled his forehead once he saw who it was. “Kosmos? What are you doing here?”

Kosmos pointed at Grandpa Vremya. “The aura you’re giving off reminds me of Gravitat,” she said. Her finger pointed at Azalea. “And you have Istoriya’s scent on you.” Her eyes narrowed, and she nodded her head. “So that’s what’s going on. I can’t believe the two of you ditched your positions just to pretend to be Vremya and … his guilty pleasure?” Her head shook as she gestured at Azalea. “I’m not sure what you’re supposed to be, Istoriya.”

Grandpa Vremya exchanged glances with Azalea. The latter raised an eyebrow and tilted her forehead at Kosmos. “So, who’s this?”

“That’s Kosmos,” Grandpa Vremya said. “She’s the god of space, and she’s crazy about me.”

“Oh?” Azalea asked. “This is the first I’m hearing about you being popular with woman.”

Kosmos’ brows furrowed, her expression a bit odd. Perhaps these two weren’t Gravitat and Istoriya after all. There was no way Istoriya would commit to such a tasteless question, not if he didn’t want to feel her wrath. Everyone in the godly society knew she had her eyes on Vremya; she had made it quite clear and even established the temple of time for him. To ask Vremya—even if he was a fake—that kind of question in front of her…. “Are you looking to die?”

“Excuse me?” Azalea asked, standing up. “Who do you think you are? You think Pravos will become just anyone’s armor with the Pravos-armor method of killing gods?”

“Please, stop calling it that.”

No one paid any attention to Pravos. Kosmos switched her gaze onto Grandpa Vremya. “Method of killing gods? So, my intuition was right. Gravitat and Istoriya really did disappear because of you. I never thought you’d be able to kill them though. What exactly do you want? Why’d you consolidate so many primordial domains? Are you plotting something huge? Why haven’t you invited me?”

Grandpa Vremya and Azalea didn’t get a chance to say a word under Kosmos’ barrage of questions. When the god of space was done speaking, Grandpa Vremya nodded at Azalea. “Like I said earlier, she’s crazy,” he said. “There’s plenty of reasons why I like to pretend she doesn’t exist.”

“While I was singlehandedly preserving the godly society, what have you been doing?” Kosmos asked, her expression frosty. “While I was transporting people out of danger with my portals, wrapping the fabric of space in a manner such that titans could only approach from one direction, and undergoing missions to retrieve important materials in areas overrun by titans”—Kosmos took in a deep breath through her nose—”what exactly have you been doing?”

“Well,” Grandpa Vremya said and gestured towards Azalea. “My lifelong companion and I have been having a competition to see who could create an immortal first by guiding them with the system.”

Veins bulged on Kosmos forehead, but, surprisingly, her expression didn’t change. “Lifelong companion?” she asked. “Weren’t we supposed to be lifelong companions? Don’t you remember that, huh!?”

Grandpa Vremya cleared his throat. “I’m merely Vremya’s avatar,” he said. “If you have a problem with Vremya, take it up with him, not me.” Upon seeing Kosmos’ unchanging expression, he decided to elaborate some more. “You can tell us apart simply by seeing which one of us is wearing clothes. As you can see, I am fully dressed.”

Kosmos’ eye twitched. Could this technically count as being faithful? If Vremya created an avatar and didn’t implant memories of her inside of it, could she really blame the avatar if it became someone else’s lifelong companion? Of course, she could! Even if it was unreasonable, in the end, she was still a primordial god. Every action she made was reasonable, and those that didn’t agree could walk around without the use of her portals, and for those that really didn’t agree, they might fall into a portal leading to the middle of all the titans. “Is that so? Your stupid competition is more important than the godly society?”

There was a screeching sound as Kosmos waved her hand. A consolidated ball of space tore through the air, flying straight for Azalea. Out of reflex, Azalea swatted with her left hand while leaning away from the ball. A large hand, one made from strands of space and time appeared, striking the ball of space. It was slapped away and ricocheted off the wall a few times before ultimately striking the microwave. Instead of damaging the fast-time world, the ball of space sank inside, the divinity within the attack converted into energy to power the world.

“Ah!” Pravos shouted. “The world is speeding up! Damnit, my user died!”

Grandpa Vremya’s and Azalea’s heads snapped towards their personal computer screens. Azalea exhaled and patted her chest. Luckily, she had turned on the autopilot function for her system, and her cactus was still growing at a moderate pace. It wasn’t fast, but it wasn’t so slow as to die before breaking through and increasing its lifespan. Compared to Azalea’s expression, Grandpa Vremya’s expression was one that had weathered a storm. Since he personally took control of the system and guided his user, when the world sped up, without Grandpa Vremya’s input, his user had to survive all those years without his presence. Grandpa Vremya turned his head and narrowed his eyes at Kosmos. “Get out.”

“Or what?” Kosmos asked, spreading her arms out to the side. “You’re going to kill me and take my divinity too? I’d like to see you try!” The space around her trembled, and the void seemed to wail as energy surged into Kosmos’ body.

“What are you doing?” Grandpa Vremya asked, furrowing his brow. It wasn’t often a god sensed danger, but when they did, awful things were bound to happen, and right now, Grandpa Vremya could practically see the warning signs radiating out of Kosmos.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Kosmos asked. “I’m taking back my divinity. You killed Gravitat and Istoriya and had them replaced but didn’t spare any of their divinity to maintain the laws of the godly society. Since Dvizhen was launched who-knows-how-many-years into the future, the majority of the godly laws are being supported by me. If I take my support back, what do you think will happen?” She raised her hand, placing her thumb against her middle finger. “The rules will collapse.” She snapped her fingers. The void shook and trembled, but the tremors didn’t last very long. “Just like that. Rules? Who needs them?”