Unlike Boros' immediate affection, Osisi's greeting was measured.

"Your Grace," he said, bowing properly.

Ikenga smiled at the sight.

"You have changed since last we saw each other."

Osisi straightened, brushing his leafy beard with slow amusement.

"The world is changing," he replied, voice deep and textured like wood shifting in wind. "And this old man would like to be part of this change. Changes needed to happen."

Ikenga paused at that "Indeed," Ikenga nodded. "It is as you say."

Osisi shifted slightly before speaking again.

"The young master and his mistress visited earlier," he said. "But you were not present. He… had to leave. He is now a god and has duties to uphold."

The words landed heavier than Osisi likely intended.

Ikenga's expression stilled. For a brief moment, his gaze drifted past them both, distant and unfocused. Time passed in that silence.

His son had come and left. He nodded after a while.

"I will be heading over to his realm to meet him later," Ikenga said calmly. "Thank you for the update."

Osisi inclined his head but he did not withdraw. There was a faint hesitation in him, subtle but present.

"May I offer a piece of advice, Your Grace?"

Ikenga looked at him with mild surprise before nodding.

"You may."

Osisi chose his words carefully.

"I may not fully understand the nature of your relationship with the young master," he began. "But as a close friend of his… I can say this."

He met Ikenga's gaze directly.

"He truly admires you. And he has missed you far more than you can imagine."

Ikenga's eyes narrowed, then warmed.

A genuine smile spread across his face, unguarded, sincere. A quiet laugh escaped him, lighter than he had intended.

He stepped forward and placed a firm hand on Osisi's wooden shoulder.

"Let me thank you on my son's behalf," Ikenga said. "You are a great friend, I hope your friendship with him continues as it is."

Osisi bowed his head again, but there was a faint satisfaction in his posture.

As he said that, Ikenga looked around the clearing.

The shed was as it always was. The great tree stood tall. Boros rested on his shoulder. Osisi remained nearby.

But one presence was missing.

"Where is Oracle?" Ikenga asked lightly. "Am I not even worth his greeting anymore?"

There was no real displeasure in his tone, only amusement.

Boros answered this time, her voice carrying faint annoyance.

"That curious and bookish fool has found a new interest recently. He is probably lost in it somewhere, ignoring your return."

Ikenga raised a brow.

"New interest?"

He did not move, but the moment the thought formed, his awareness expanded.

Within his home world, nothing was truly hidden from him. The trees, the rivers, the wind, the soil, all of it responded to him. Omnipresence came naturally. Effortlessly, he found Oracle.

As Arch Curse Creator, the nature of curses, their shaping and manipulation, resonated clearly to him. He sensed what Oracle was doing.

Ikenga's gaze lowered slightly.

He looked at his shadow "Second place might be taken from you if you don't hurry," he said casually.

His shadow rippled subtly at his words before settling back into stillness.

As for who held first place, Juggernaut had taken it.

His path alongside Xerosis had yielded great benefit. Through that journey, he had advanced significantly. Among his siblings, he now stood first.

A Sixth Tier figure. A faint smile touched his lips.

"Good," he murmured. Let them compete, let them strive. A creator did not fear his creations rising.

He welcomed it.

Meanwhile, in the mortal plane of Nana, the world reacted the moment Ikenga and Keles returned.

More accuratey, Nature reacted for any visible reaction from Death would have been catastrophic.

The first change was unseen.

The threshold that separated the upside-down world from the normal plane, a barrier few even knew existed had been left unstable during the absence of both Ikenga and Keles. Their departure had created two vast openings, weak points in the unseen boundary.

Pillars were created during the ascension of the demigods to act as a stand in, in the absence of Ikenga and Keles but recently the Origin Gods destroyed two pillars, and their had been slight concern on what comes after if Ikenga and keles never came back on time.

But the moment both returned, the openings began to close. The fractures simply sealed themselves, as though the world exhaled in relief. What could have spiraled into potential crisis resolved quietly.

Most never noticed. Those who did understood how close things had come.

Then came the second reaction, this one could not be ignored.

During Ikenga's absence, nature had not withered but it had dulled. Crops no longer grew in days or weeks. Harvest cycles stretched into months. Soil felt heavier. Growth felt reluctant.

Nothing collapsed, but abundance faded. Now, farmers woke to fields far fuller than they had been the day before.

Grains ripened early, fruits swelled on branches out o

f season. Seeds planted only recently broke through soil with unnatural vigor.

The change was not isolated, forests thickened. New trees rose where none had stood before, grasslands regained their rich green.

Across the planet, animals reacted instinctively. In deep forests and open plains alike, beasts lifted their heads and roared to the sky. Birds burst upward in flocks. Herds moved with restless energy.

The other oarty that felt this clearly was the deep worshippers. Those devoted to Ikenga felt warmth settle into their hearts again, a responsiveness that had been absent.

Those devoted to Keles sensed a steadiness in the passage of souls.

The two presences that had once gone silent were no longer distant. The realization spread quietly at first.

Across temples and shrines, the same conclusion was reached. The absent gods were back.

On the eastern continent, within the territory of the apelings, there existed a region few dared to approach, a land dominated by fire and restless mountains. Volcanoes stood like ancient sentinels, their peaks constantly bleeding smoke and ash into the sky. Rivers of lava cut glowing paths through dark rock, and the air itself shimmered from the overwhelming heat. It was not a place meant for ordinary life.

But it was perfect for the Ember Cursed Clan.

The clan had chosen this land not in spite of its brutality, but because of it. The constant heat strengthened them. The closeness of active volcanoes fed their curse, sharpening their bodies and tempering their spirits the way fire tempers steel. Their city was built within this inferno structures carved from hardened lava and blackened stone, standing firm against eruptions and tremors alike.

At the highest volcano, where the heat was most intense, stood the home of Ember.

The sound of hammer striking steel rang across the mountainside.

Clang.

Each strike was heavy, deliberate, and impossibly powerful. The impact alone caused the surrounding ground to tremble. Loose rock shifted. Fine ash slid down the slopes. The volcano itself seemed to respond to the rhythm of his forging.

Clang.

Ember stood before his anvil, his burning eyes fixed on the heated steel beneath his hammer. Sweat did not bead on his skin, it evaporated instantly in the surrounding heat. The steel glowed white-hot, bending under his strength.

Then, he stopped as he felt a tremor. The tremor beneath his feet was different.

Not the recoil of his own strike, nor was it the natural shifting of the mountain.

Slowly, his burning eyes turned toward the crater behind him.

The lava inside the volcano was rising.

It bubbled and swelled unnaturally, climbing higher and higher as if something beneath it was pushing upward. The surface broke apart, molten waves spilling over the inner edges.

Then a shape emerged.

A massive head pushed through the lava, magma cascading off hardened scales. Horns broke the surface first, followed by glowing eyes that opened with a slow awareness.

A roar erupted from the crater.

It was deep and draconic, shaking the sky itself. The sound rolled across the volcanic range, echoing through the Ember Clan's city below.

Red had awakened.

The dragon slowly climbed out from the volcano's core, his enormous body displacing lava in every movement. Molten rock scattered outward as he rose, spilling down the mountainside in blazing streams. His wings unfolded, sending bursts of heat outward in waves.

Fully emerged now, Red stood atop the volcano, lava dripping from his scales as smoke curled from his nostrils.

Red lowered his great head and turned his gaze toward Ember, who stood unmoving before him.

"An old friend is back," Red said, his voice deep and resonant, like magma shifting beneath the earth. "I have to pay my visit."

Ember met his gaze without hesitation. There was no surprise in his expression, only understanding.

"Tell grandpa I said welcome."

Red gave a slow nod.

Then his wings spread wider.

For a brief moment, they blotted out the fiery glow of the volcano, casting the summit into shadow. The air trembled as he beat them once, twice and then he rose.