Novel Full Chapter 703: The Fourth Son Arrives!
The red light engulfing the family took a full thirty seconds to finally die down.
When it finally did, the lot of them were surprised to find a new individual seated in Bekka’s very lap.
“What… Is the meaning of this…? Why is my glorious soul housed within this mass of flesh..?”
A baby wrapped in a dark red blanket spoke in one of the deepest and most regal voices the room had ever heard.
He also seemed to speak with quite a high opinion of himself.
“…I admit that it is comfy… but it’s size is cumbersome and lacks mobility. I am unfond of it.”
Suddenly, the baby was engulfed in a swirl of red smoke and left Bekka’s lap.
Suddenly, a new figure stood within the middle of the room.
A young man, resembling roughly around eighteen years of age stretched his new body underneath everyone’s stupefied gazes.
Was he handsome? Sure, all of Abaddon’s sons were.
But more than that, he was jarring.
The power that flowed off of him in waves was greater than at least five of his siblings put together.
Most of the adults of the room probably couldn’t even scratch him even if he stood perfectly still.
In terms of height, he was an exact eight feet five inches tall. His body was lean, with minor muscle definition; similar to a snake.
Like his father and the mother who carried him, his skin was nightmare black with several patches of dark scales on his chest, hands, cheeks, and legs.
He possessed razor-sharp talons on the ends of his fingertips that were sharper than most of Tehom’s best blades.
His eyes were like pools of red blood surrounded by black sclera, completely devoid of the usual reptilian pupils.
He bore no horns atop his head, but there would be no denying that he was a dragon. His hair was black in color, and styled in short twists that didn’t even go below his pointed ears.
The red blanket that was covering him previously had become a simple red skirt to conserve his modesty, and a pair of dark sandals over his clawed feet.
“My body feels as if it’s wrapped in chains… This stiffness is truly undesirable-“
“NOOOO!!!”
“GAH!”
Bekka held out her hands and Tartarus shrank back into his newborn form without being able to stop himself.
“You’re not supposed to get big yet!! I carried you for one whole week so that means I get at least a full month of snuggles and nursery rhymes, and cheek kisses!!” She sobbed.
“What in purgatory’s name is wrong with you, woman!? Release me! Return me to my glorious form!”
“Don’t get snippy with me, mister, that’s ‘mommy’ to you! Now put on this onesie I knitted you and sit quietly so that we can take pictures!”
“WHAT!?!”
Nyx realized that at some point she was going to have to step in so that Tartarus’ confusion didn’t persist any further.
She slipped onto the sofa beside Bekka and wiggled one of his little feet with an amused expression.
“Hey there, little man. Remember me?”
For a moment, the young infant stopped fighting as Bekka tried to shove him into a onesie and stared at Nyx until a glimmer of recognition showed up on his face.
He suddenly spoke in a very, very old language that only Abaddon, Gabbrielle, Izanami, and to a degree Asmodeus and Demeter understood.
“…If this is a game of yours, it does not amuse.” he glowered.
Nyx however was unfazed and only chuckled.
“So temperamental… How long have you been sleeping, baby boy?”
Tartarus yawned at the mere mention of sleep and rubbed his eyes as he tried to get his mind in order.
“…I am unsure. So many timelines. So many alternate realities… The noise of the differences in my mind is so unnerving that I cannot nearly keep track of all of my memories.”
He looked at Nyx again with suspicious eyes that were both cute and intimidating.
“…What are we to each other in this particular version?”
Nyx stuffed her chest out with pride as she began to gloat. “Isn’t it obvious? I used to be your one and only mommy!”
Tartarus’ face darkened. “…I will pull the creator from the heavens by his beard for playing such a trick.”
“Ehhh? What’s wrong with this life!?” Nyx actually looked wounded. “I make a good mom! Almost all 2,000 of my kids agree!”
Tartarus had a better question as he observed his would-be mother. “Why are you behaving so cartoonishly…? I do not recall your personality being this jovial… It is nauseating.”
“What a naughty boy you are to speak about your mother that way… Perhaps I will have to discipline you more in this new life we are to live together.”
“I would sooner unravel my own existence.”
“Fufufu~ It’s too bad that your other parents will never allow that.”
“…Please don’t tell me my father is-“
“No, and I’ll have you know that we’ve gotten a divorce so I don’t want to hear anything about him!”
“Oh, certainly… Until you inevitably get back together that is.”
“Shut it, baby legs!”
“You go too far, night witch!!”
Eventually, Bekka grew tired of feeling left out of the conversation and she held up her newborn son so that he could face her.
“Why is my little Bash so cranky, hm? Were you cooped up too long?” She cooed.
“…Bash?”
Bekka smiled.
“Bashenga Onyx Tathamet. It’s the name your father and I decided on.”
At that moment, the child sensed movement from behind him.
Amidst the sea of people in the room, he was surprised and stunned when he saw the man walking towards him.
Because he was without a doubt, he was the most powerful entity that he had ever laid eyes upon. Even his ancient eyes couldn’t see the depths of his power, or where it’s end lie.
That is to say that there even was one at all. This was a phenomenon he had only observed exactly twice before.
Abaddon kneeled in front of Bekka and Bashenga, and just as he opened his mouth to speak, Nyx threw her arms around his neck instead.
“So, ‘Onyx’, huh? When were you going to tell me that you were planning to name our son after me??”
Abaddon tried to peel Nyx off of him like she was a fly stuck to glass.
“I would have told you a while ago if I didn’t know you were going to act like-“
“So this is your way of proposing, right? It feels like a proposal!”
Bashenga felt like he was going out of his mind.
He had known Nyx for a long, long time.
She was a cold woman, often distant to others, but mildly warm to Erebus and a welcoming mother to most, if not all of, her children.
But he had absolutely never seen her behave in such a… school-girlish manner.
He wasn’t unaware of her tendency to change her personality every 4,000 years or so, but this was absolutely insane.
And yet as he looked at his father, he could see how it could’ve happened.
Gods like pretty things, and pretty people. But none harbor this fascination more than the greeks themselves.
And the dragon in front of him was attractive enough to have most every greek deity feeding him grapes as he lounged on the beach.
Bashenga knew that, sure. But seeing the power of his looks in person was just unsettling.
But then again, Nyx wasn’t quite like other deities of the heavens. She could appreciate the way Abaddon’s looks without getting fully swept up in them… so was she acting like this on purpose?
‘Or has he perhaps placed some sort of root in her mind?’ Bashenga wondered.
“…Girls, get her off me.” Abaddon called.
Seras and Sif struck Nyx over the head and drug her away from their husband before she could do anymore weird things.
‘…Maybe he hasn’t.’ Bashenga was getting really sick of not knowing anything that was going on around him.
With no more obstacles in his way, Abaddon turned to face his son for the first time.
“Are you comfortable?”
Bashenga hadn’t seemed to predict that those would be Abaddon’s first words to him.
“…This body is an inconvenient thing.” He admitted.
“Well you’ve just been born, so that is to be expected. Besides, it isn’t as if you are bound to it, now are you?”
“…Indeed I am not.”
Everyone watched in silence as the two seemingly held a conversation as if they were simple adults.
The wives took more than a couple of pictures as they found the whole thing to be cute.
“…What are you?” Bashenga finally asked.
“I’m your father.”
“A description up for debate, and far from what I am asking of you.”
A small smirk showed up on Abaddon’s face. “A witty one, are you? You’ll fare well in the face of your brothers.”
Bashenga’s gaze traveled towards three young men on the other side of the room who bore the same striking resemblance to Abaddon that he now did.
But more than the others, his eyes settled on the youngest, yet tallest of the trio.
Even through all of his changes, it wasn’t hard at all to recognize him.
Straga clasped his hands behind his head as he smiled bashfully.
“Guess we’ve got a lot of catching up to do, huh? Though I can’t help you with a lot of it, cause I don’t really have any memories from that time…”
Bashenga blinked away his surprise a few more times before he turned back to his smiling father.
“What… are you?” he asked again.
Abaddon laughed heartily; surprising the newborn deity.
“A dragon… just a dragon, my son. See for yourself.”
Abaddon placed his finger in the center of Bashenga’s head.
There was a small spark, and a flood of memories and pictures came rushing into his mind.
It was so much. Almost too much.
It left the baby god with even more questions for his father and his creator. As there were some things that remained unanswered.
But more than anything else, it reminded the deity of something important.
“Just a dragon my ass… This is why I stay asleep. The waking world is… far too dramatic for my liking.”
This was how Bashenga Tathamet, the fourth prince of Tehom and the Nevi’im Primordial God of Armageddon, spent the first ten minutes of his new life.
In complete and utter disbelief at the world around him.
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