Following Nyx's counsel, Tyche demanded half of Gaia's Supreme Divinity. The Earth Goddess, visibly displeased, reluctantly acquiesced.
The loss clearly pained her, and upon finalizing the exchange, she wasted no time in ushering Tyche out with little courtesy.
Tyche, having secured tangible gains, chose not to dwell on Gaia's abrupt change in demeanor. After all, could one truly expect gratitude when taking what another held dear?
Eager to depart, Gaia swiftly began severing her remaining divine ties. The more powerful a domain, the stronger its bond—thus, she discarded all but her dominion over nature. Once Tyche fully integrated the Earth's mantle, she would ascend as a Primordial.
During this transition, news reached Olympus—Leto was to bear Zeus' divine twins.
Tyche made time to attend their birth atop the sacred mountain.
Now elevated to Middle-Tier status through her Fortune Domain, Leto still struggled under the strain of carrying twin deities. The Oracle, ever watchful, had remained by her daughter's side for some time.
Born of love, these children entered existence amidst divine radiance. Almost simultaneously, the twin gods emerged from Leto's embrace.
Phoebus Apollo, radiant and resplendent, brought clarity to the world. His presence banished shadow, filling every living being with joy. Unlike the blinding flash of lightning, his gentle light exuded warmth and serenity.
Perhaps due to Zeus' dominion over life, Apollo inherited a Healing Aspect within his Life Domain, further enhanced by his luminous essence. From birth, he bore a divine spark nearing Middle-Tier strength.
Leto and Phoebe rejoiced at his power, yet foresaw inevitable strife—his brilliance encroached upon the realms of the Light Gods.
Artemis, born moments before her brother, carried a crisp, invigorating energy. Her four Aspects—Forest, Growth, Birth, and Purification—granted her an immediate Middle-Tier station.
Compared to Apollo, she seemed to inherit a greater share of her father's vitality. Tyche mused that Artemis might rise as both Nature and Life Goddess, filling the void left by Gaia's departure. Moved by this thought, she bestowed upon the newborn the Animal Domain once taken from Gaia—a gift to aid Artemis in claiming the broader Natural Realm.
As for Apollo, the Sun's domain remained unclaimed. Though Hyperion and Theia had withdrawn, they still held sway over Light. Without surpassing them, Apollo could not ascend beyond Middle-Tier.
Tyche retrieved the Inspiration Domain from Iapetus, a gift brimming with potential to command the Arts. For Apollo, it proved a fortuitous boon.
Already on the cusp of ascension, Apollo surged forth into Middle-Tier divinity under Tyche's guidance—an unexpected but welcome triumph.
Zeus rejoiced at the birth of his radiant twins and vowed to grant them Elder Thrones upon reaching maturity.
This decision eased Coeus and Phoebe's hearts, who gratefully relinquished their own seats. Thus, the first generation of Titans withdrew, yielding the stage to the new pantheon.
After offering gifts to the divine siblings, Tyche declined Zeus' plea for her to stay and returned to the Isle of the Unseen, preparing for her final ascent.
Gaia's departure drew near. With the aid of two Primordials and the Laws, Tyche successfully crossed the threshold. The earth remained unchanged, oblivious to the silent shift in cosmic stewardship.
Light-hearted and free, Gaia eagerly prepared to leave. Both Tyche and Nyx accompanied her to the world's edge.
Draped in a simple white gown, stripped of all adornments, Gaia smiled warmly as she bade farewell to the two goddesses. Then, bearing their hopes and blessings, she vanished into the Chaos Sea.
Nyx watched until her light faded, then sighed. "She never understood. What is gained shall be lost. What is lost shall not return. Even if she finds a new world, it will never be the home she remembers—it is only a dream she refuses to wake from."
"Where the heart finds peace, there lies one's homeland," murmured Tyche, gazing into the endless sea of chaos. "If she believes it to be home, reality matters little."
Turning to Nyx, she asked softly, "Have you ever wished to return?"
Nyx shook her head slowly. "A world without them is no home."
Tyche fell silent. Alone among the Nine Songs pantheon, Nyx must carry a loneliness she could scarcely imagine.
"And you?" Nyx countered gently. "Will you return?"
"I will," Tyche replied firmly. "No matter how long I must wait, or how far I must travel—I will return."
Nyx merely smiled.
Yet even in this moment of reflection, Chaos seized the gap between Primordials. A fleeting tremor in the Origin forced both goddesses back into the world to suppress the slumbering Creator.
Gazing upon the vast, sleeping form deep within the Origin, Tyche let out a low whistle. Truly, Chaos had been unfortunate—none could have foreseen that his casual act of creation would sow the seeds of his downfall. Five deities, once used as foundational pillars, fractured his dominion. The self-aware laws of this world, now freed, siphoned his waning essence like a drained battery.
Comparing him to Pangu—the mythical opener of heavens and earth in Han cosmology—it seemed few Creator Gods found peaceful endings after birthing worlds.
Darkness and Abyss had already arrived at the Origin, aiding the Laws in extracting Chaos' fading power. Eros, the unseen force of desire, followed closely behind.
With the Primordials assembled, they began dividing Chaos' nearly solidified divinity.
His essence would fuel the world's ascension.
Tyche delved into the remnants of his Supreme Divinity, seeking memories hidden within. Ancient beyond reckoning, Chaos had witnessed the tides of the Chaos Sea rise and fall. Countless worlds perished in those waves, yet he endured.
From these echoes, Tyche gleaned invaluable knowledge. In the Chaos Sea, time and space held no meaning. Travelers risked eternal disorientation unless guided by the rare, gleaming worlds scattered across the void—though even these were ever-shifting.
Birth and destruction were common; no beacon remained constant. The only reliable path lay in leaving projections within each world. Linked by shared divinity, they served as anchors. Without such markers, even the mightiest beings would fade and vanish into oblivion.
Tyche could not help but think of Gaia's hasty departure—perhaps she too had used this method to find a new world.
The thought stirred her deeply, yet she forced herself to remain focused on the present. As Chaos' divinity and power continued to wane, his restless stirrings gradually subsided, sinking once more into silent dormancy.
The five Primordials dispersed, each returning to their own domain. Before leaving, Tyche sought out Eros, the Primordial of Love, requesting that he lift the enchantment binding Helios' heart. Naturally, Eros saw no reason to displease a fellow Primordial over such a trivial matter and readily agreed.
After a brief period of rest to recover from the strain, Tyche set forth with renewed vigor beyond the crystalline boundary. Within Viviane's fragmented memories—those preserved within her lingering divinity—were coordinates to several distant worlds. Tyche chose to visit the nearest first, hoping to uncover something useful.
Viviane's recollections were incomplete; only the most profound impressions remained after her fall. Before her demise, she had glimpsed a realm beyond her own. For reasons unknown, she had chosen not to remain, pressing onward despite her dwindling strength.
What thrilled Tyche most was the fleeting vision Viviane had left behind—a world of towering skyscrapers, unmistakably marked by modern civilization.
Yet the very fact that Viviane had refused to stay troubled Tyche. Perhaps the world's ruler rejected outsiders. Or worse, perhaps it was inhospitable to divine beings altogether, lacking the faith necessary for gods to root themselves in its soil. Either possibility boded ill—and thus, Tyche had delayed her journey.
Weighing her options, she resolved to send forth a projection first.
With great reluctance, she divided a portion of her Oceanic and Fated essence, pouring all her might into forging a powerful avatar. Cloaked in the protective veil of the crystalline system, the projection embarked on its long voyage toward the unknown world.
The consciousness bound to the projection drifted through the Chaos Sea for an indeterminate time. Fortunately, it encountered neither divine aberrations nor monstrous entities along the way. However, relentless storms eroded its strength. The crystalline shield shattered after repelling a single insignificant wave, leaving Tyche exhausted, sustained only by sheer willpower.
Pain lanced through her as her fading divinity continued to erode. Her projection could no longer maintain humanoid form, dissolving into a radiant core that pressed forward relentlessly.
Just before total annihilation, she finally beheld the world from Viviane's memory.
To her disappointment, no sovereign claimed this realm—so Viviane must have abandoned it because it lacked the conditions necessary for divine existence. Yet Tyche had no better alternatives. Gritting her teeth, she breached its feeble defenses.
Upon entry, Tyche felt a surge of confusion—though untouched by worship, she instantly recognized the grayish mist permeating the world as raw belief energy! How could Viviane have misjudged so gravely?
A chill crept into her heart. Clearly, Viviane's rejection of this world stemmed from reasons far more complex than she had imagined.
Descending through the sky to solid ground, she gazed upon the sprawling steel forests below with awe. Ignoring caution, she plunged straight into the city.
Automobiles zipped across orderly roads, while pedestrians strode confidently in stylish attire. The atmosphere of civilization and order moved her to tears—until she realized, with a jolt, that every face she saw was white.
Trying to reassure herself, she reasoned that any connection to humanity was still comforting. Resolute, she turned eastward.
In the next moment, she slammed painfully onto cold stone pavement. A sharp pang shot through her body. Alarmed, she reached out with what little remained of her divine power to connect with the underground waters—only to receive a faint, sluggish response.
This world's laws seemed to suppress divine influence! Worse still, Tyche began instinctively manifesting physical form. Hastily, she molded herself into a familiar Eastern female shape. Dressed in a simple light-blue gown, she blended inconspicuously among the indifferent passersby.
Drawing upon long-buried linguistic memory, she navigated using English signage until stopping before a grand red-pillared archway crowned with golden tiles. The gleaming Chinese characters reading "Chinatown" sent her heart racing uncontrollably.
The familiar script lining both sides of the gate and the occasional Hokkien accent drifting through the air filled her with an aching sense of belonging. She strolled beneath the shade of the avenue trees, greedily drinking in the scenery—both intimately familiar and utterly foreign—as joy swelled in her chest.
After wandering back and forth multiple times, she finally remembered to ask where she was. Seizing the arm of a passing elderly woman, she inquired, "Granny, where are we?"
"This is Chinatown, Portland, Oregon, child. Are you lost?" The silver-haired woman regarded her with kind concern, gently urging, "Go home quickly. It's not safe here at night."
A surreal sensation washed over Tyche. Could she really be this fortunate?
Noticing the girl's dazed expression, the woman nodded to herself in understanding.
"If you're in trouble, go to the nearby Mazu Temple. The caretaker is kind-hearted—he'll let you stay if you help with chores. Don't be afraid."
So saying, she led Tyche toward the temple nearby. "What's your name, dear? Any family with you?"
Snapping back to reality, Tyche answered softly, "Lin Xiang."
Misinterpreting her tone, the woman sighed compassionately. "Don't worry. Everything will be alright."
Without further explanation, Lin Xiang allowed herself to be escorted inside the temple. The scent of sandalwood greeted her even before entering. Inside, incense curled lazily around the halls.
An elderly man in black robes listened as the woman explained how Lin Xiang had lost her parents and come alone to a foreign land. Moved by pity, he immediately offered her a position tending the eternal lamp.
Lin Xiang paid little attention to their conversation. From the moment she entered the temple, her gaze had been fixed upon the altar.
Behind a yellow curtain stood a solemn shrine adorned with fresh water, flowers, and fruits. Amidst the curling smoke, a goddess emerged—black-haired, dark-eyed, and visibly astonished by Lin Xiang's presence.
A deep sorrow gripped her heart. Nothing hurt more than grasping hope, only to lose it again.
Approaching gently, the goddess smiled and asked softly, "From where do you come?"