Yula woke up after an hour, slowly disentangling the small hands and feet wrapped around her body. She wasn't upset—on the contrary, she felt happy and invigorated, basking in the warmth of her daughters' love.
She was reluctant to leave, but as a god, her sleep duration was naturally long.
Not wanting to disturb them, she gently whispered, her voice filled with deep affection, "Ella, Olivia, Mother will be leaving for a bit. I'll be back in a week."
Carefully prying Ella's tiny hands from her waist, she placed a gentle kiss on both their foreheads.
"CHU"
After kissing the twins, she gazed at them for a moment, her heart swelling with an overwhelming sense of obsession.
A soft blush crept onto her cheeks as she smiled in satisfaction, unwilling to take her eyes off them.
But she suppressed her lingering emotions, her expression gradually returning to its usual calm and cold demeanor. "I should go."
With that, she retrieved fresh clothes from her storage bracelet.
Changing into them, she faced the familiar difficulty of securing her bra due to her ample curves, but under her power, she adjusted it effortlessly.
In a matter of minutes, she was dressed in an exquisite flowing gown with a strapless bodice, adorned with golden embroidery and layered fabrics of white and blue.
As she studied her reflection in the mirror, she remained composed, yet felt something was missing.
Taking out an assortment of artifacts and gemstones, she carefully adorned herself, enhancing her attire with celestial accessories. "This should do," she muttered, affixing gemstones to her neckline.
With her divine elegance perfected, she turned once more to her daughters, a warm smile gracing her lips before finally departing.
Far beyond the God Realm, an unfathomable distance away, existed a place inaccessible to most gods. Even at the speed of light, reaching this realm was impossible.
It was a domain sealed off by powerful restrictions, permitting only those who had transcended to enter—yet even they could not exert their full strength due to the suppressive laws governing it.
This was the Human Realm.
Out of the five absolute realms, the Human Realm was the weakest, its inhabitants bound by countless limitations—short lifespans, restricted talent, scarce natural energy, and constant dangers.
It was a place where cultivation was arduous, where the strong were few and the weak many. Despite its inferiority, it remained an essential part of existence.
In this realm, a girl named Tia sat cross-legged on the wooden floor of her modest home.
Though her eyes were clouded and unseeing, her serene expression radiated warmth as she listened to the familiar melody of life surrounding her—her mother's gentle humming from the kitchen, her father's deep laughter as he played with her younger siblings in the garden. This was home.
Her fingers brushed over the intricate carvings of her wooden flute.
For weeks, she had been practicing her favorite song, eager to surprise her family with it. "They're going to love it. I hope Mama and Papa will praise me," she whispered to herself, a bright smile gracing her lips. "Mama always says I'm her little songbird."
Her heart swelled with joy as she envisioned the delighted applause of her siblings and the proud smiles of her parents. Taking a deep breath, she lifted the flute to her lips, preparing to play.
But the warmth didn't last.
A sudden, suffocating silence fell over the house. The air grew thick and oppressive, the once-vibrant presence of life vanishing in an instant. Tia's humming faltered, and she turned her head toward the door, her senses sharpening.
"Mama? What's happening?" she called out, patting the ground with trembling hands, seeking reassurance.
Then—"CRACK!"
A deafening crash shattered the silence. The ground trembled beneath her, and the acrid scent of ash and sulfur filled her nostrils. Panicked screams erupted from the garden.
"Ack! Help! There's a demon—run! AHHH! Call for help!"
A guttural, inhuman roar followed, reverberating through the air.
Tia's heart pounded in terror. "Demon? No... this can't be..." Her breath came in short gasps as she struggled to understand. Tears welled in her sightless eyes as she called out, "Papa!? Mama!? Brother Yan!? Please answer me!"
She scrambled to her feet, stumbling toward the chaos, her hands reaching out desperately. But before she could reach the door, it was blown off its hinges. A wave of searing heat slammed into her, sending her sprawling to the floor.
Through the ringing in her ears, she could hear the monstrous growls, the screams of her family—then nothing.
A chilling voice slithered through the silence. "Such fragile things, humans. And you, blind little bird… what can you do but sing your pitiful songs?"
Tia's breath hitched. The malevolent presence loomed over her, suffocating her with its malice. She clutched her flute, her only anchor in the darkness.
"You... where are they? Release my family!" she cried, swinging her flute wildly, striking nothing but empty air.
Silence.
The warmth of her family was gone.
"No..."
Tears streamed down her face as she crawled through the wreckage, searching—desperate for any sign of life. But she found only cold ash and broken memories.
"Papa... Mama..." Her voice cracked as she continued to search, refusing to accept the truth.
Days blurred into nights. Alone, clutching her flute, she wandered the streets. Strangers passed her by, their apathy weighing heavily on her fragile heart.
One evening, as she curled up against a cold stone wall, a group of voices approached.
"Hoh? A beggar? And a beauty too, hehe..."
The scuff of boots sent a shiver down her spine. She shrank back, pressing herself against the wall.
"Look at this one," a gruff voice sneered. "Blind and begging. How pathetic."
Before she could react, a sharp kick landed on her side. "Ugh!" She gasped, clutching her ribs, tears spilling down her cheeks.
"Please," she whispered. "I... I didn't do anything..."
Another kick. Harder. "Shut up. No one wants to hear your whining. You're blind and defective—worse than a whore."
Laughter echoed as they left her crumpled on the ground. She lay there, trembling, body aching, spirit shattered.
With trembling hands, she lifted her flute and played.
A soft, sorrowful melody filled the night, weaving through the silence like a delicate thread. Her music carried her grief, her longing, and her fragile hope.
As she played, the world around her faded. The sounds of the city, the whispers of the wind—everything disappeared, It was as if space itself had stilled to listen.
Then, a soft voice echoed in the emptiness. "Eri, I can't take it anymore... I choose her. I'll take care of her, huhuhu..."
Tia's fingers froze over her flute. Her breath hitched. "Who's there...?"