Kafka sat there, rubbing his temples as his thoughts tangled together in a storm of worry. His head throbbed from the sheer weight of it all.
How was he supposed to save the world when doing so meant fulfilling a forbidden request he could never bring himself to complete?
Every solution he tried to imagine only led to another dead end. He could feel the ache behind his eyes growing sharper with each passing second.
Meanwhile, as he stared blankly at the floor, lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts, Vanitas was quietly observing him.
Her expression had softened into something contemplative, almost grave. She looked like someone who was debating a thousand things at once, her eyes flickering as though she were fighting against herself.
Then, slowly, her shoulders relaxed, and a kind of quiet resolve washed over her features.
She breathed in deeply, gaze lowering as she whispered under her breath, almost too quietly to hear,
"It seems...we have no choice. I'll have to do that."
Kafka immediately perked up, his focus snapping to her.
"Wait—what?" He blinked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "What do you mean by that? What are you going to do?"
Vanitas blinked, startled, she hadn't meant to speak aloud.
"Ah, nothing!" She said quickly, waving her hand as if to swat away the question. "It's fine, dear. Don't worry about it."
"See, that right there." Kafka said suspiciously, narrowing his eyes. "That's exactly what someone says when there's definitely something to worry about. You don't get flustered, Mom. If you are, it means you're up to something."
"So, what are you scheming this time? Is it another plan with the rest of the girls?"
"No, Kafka! Stop doubting your mother all the time." Vanitas puffed her cheeks indignantly, crossing her arms. "I'm not trying to seduce you every single moment of the day, you know."
He stared flatly at her. "...I doubt that."
She clicked her tongue and looked away dramatically. "Hmph. So cynical. You used to be such a sweet little baby..."
"Yeah, well, abandonment does that to a person." He muttered dryly.
But before he could press further, she straightened her posture suddenly, clasping her hands together with an almost mischievous smile.
"Anyway! It's not what you think. I was just thinking of asking you to...accompany me to the Heavens."
That caught him off guard. "You want me to go up their?"
"Yes." She said, regaining her composure. "A small mother-and-son trip. There's something happening up there that I'd like us to attend."
"An event, huh?" Kafka blinked, still suspicious but undeniably intrigued. "Since when are you interested in heavenly gatherings? You usually despise those kinds of things. You've always said the other gods are unbearable."
Vanitas smirked faintly.
"Normally, yes. I can't stand them, those preening, weak-willed goddesses who spend their eternity bragging about their offspring or showing off their hollow power." Her tone dripped with pride. "I have no interest in their petty games. I'm above them."
Kafka couldn't help but smile a little at her proud tone.
"Ah, there it is. The famous arrogance. I was wondering when that would show up."
She shot him a playful glare but continued.
"But this time, it's different. This event isn't one of those ridiculous tea parties. It's a festival—a festival to celebrate the birth of a new demigod."
"A demigod's birth festival?" Kafka tilted his head.
"Yes." She nodded. "Every time a child of divine and mortal lineage is born in the heavens, the gods hold a grand celebration lasting for several days. But the true highlight of it all is the Divine Appraisal."
"The Divine Appraisal? That sounds important." He said, intrigued despite himself.
"Yes it is." Vanitas's eyes gleamed. "It's a sacred trial, meant to measure the potential of every demigod in Heaven. It reveals their divine affinity, their raw power, and even their fate."
"It's tradition, and it's quite the spectacle. Every True God and their daughters comes to watch, eager to see how powerful the new generation will be."
"And then I thought, since their holding one why not bring you? My son. The most extraordinary being in all existence."
Kafka blinked, a little stunned. "Wait...you want to—"
"I want to test you potential" She said, almost glowing with pride. "I already know your potential far surpasses any demi-god that's ever existed, but I'd like to show them."
"All those self-absorbed deities who used to brag about their 'perfect daughters', well, it's about time I show them what a true divine bloodline looks like."
Her smirk was pure confidence, a mixture of vanity and motherly pride.
"I want them to see you for who you are, my son. The one who'll surpass them all!"
Kafka exhaled slowly, half exasperated, half amused. "You really never change, do you?"
"Never...I am the God of Vanity after all." She said proudly.
Kafka bowed his head in dismay, though there was a trace of a smile tugging at his lips as he said,
"Still, that does sound...interesting. A whole celestial festival just for the birth of a demi-god, huh?"
Then he frowned thoughtfully.
"But why just us? Can't the others come too? I mean, if it's some heavenly festival, I'm sure they'd love to see it."
Vanitas answered before he could say anything else.
"Oh, don't worry about that." She said quickly, as if to hide something. "They're actually going too, just not with us."
"What do you mean?" Kafka blinked, confused.
"They'll be attending the same festival." She explained. "But they'll be going with Evangeline instead. As for us..." She paused, glancing at him with a meaningful look. "...this particular part of the test is meant to be something between a parent and their child. A bond-trial, of sorts."
"So I wanted to do this one with you alone. It's...a mother-and-son thing. But don't worry, we'll join the others later. I just want to do this part alone with you."
Kafka rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Hmm. Now that you mention it, I did hear everyone talking about some heavenly event recently...so that's what they were referring to. I should've guessed." He sighed, leaning back with a half-smile. "And here I was thinking this might be another one of your elaborate plans."
"Well, anyway..." Kafka continued on not noticing how her lips twitched at the word 'plans'. "You've already done more for me than I could ever repay, so if you want to show off your 'amazing son,' I'll come along. I'll even smile for the crowd."
Vanitas's eyes lit up like the stars themselves.
"Oh, Kafka! You have no idea how happy that makes me!" She leapt up, hugging him tightly, nearly crushing him in her divine enthusiasm. "I can't wait! I'll finally get to show everyone what a magnificent son I have!"
"They'll all be green with envy when they see you standing beside me—the perfect picture of divine grace and power!"
Kafka grinned helplessly as she continued her excited ramble.
"Alright, alright, I get it. But don't be disappointed if I don't exactly live up to all that hype, okay? I might not show much potential."
Vanitas immediately pulled back, her expression scandalized. "Don't be ridiculous!" She scoffed, flicking his forehead lightly. "You're my son. The very idea that you'd disappoint me is absurd."
He chuckled at her confidence. "Still, what if I was useless? Just hypothetically."
She paused for a moment, then smiled warmly, her divine arrogance softening into something deeply human.
"Even if that were true, which it isn't, I wouldn't care. God or mortal, powerful or weak...you are my beloved son. And I will love you no matter what."
Her words struck something in him, a quiet warmth unfurling in his chest. But before he could speak, she added with a playful smirk,
"Besides, even if your potential turned out to be laughably low, who cares? Your mother is the most powerful being in all existence. Let anyone dare to mock you, I'll erase them from the cosmos before they finish their sentence."
Kafka couldn't help but laugh softly. "You're terrifying, you know that?"
"Only when it comes to you." Vanitas chuckled, brushing her fingers affectionately through his hair.
Despite the dangerous tone behind her words, Kafka felt strangely safe in that moment, like he was wrapped in a blanket of absolute protection.
For once, he wasn't the one keeping others safe.
For once, someone was protecting him.
And it was...nice.
Kafka couldn't help but grin. "You know, I'd usually say that's overprotective, but somehow, hearing it from you actually feels...nice."
"Good." She said, smoothing a hand through his hair affectionately. "Then it's settled."
As she hugged him once more, Kafka let himself relax for a moment, feeling the warmth of her maternal love.
Yet as he basked in that fleeting peace, he couldn't shake the strange feeling that this whole thing was more than it seemed.
And unbeknownst to him, just outside the door, every single member of the household—Abigaille, Olivia, Seraphina, Camila, Bella, June, Nina, Lyra, and Evangeline were huddled together, their ears pressed against the door like a wall of eavesdropping conspirators.
They exchanged knowing grins, eyes glittering with amusement and triumph.
Even Evangeline, who rarely smiled, had the faintest curve of satisfaction on her lips.
Everything was going according to plan.