Chapter 23

Karta hopped off the couch, causing Vremya to give her a look. The stinky dog rarely left the couch; other than being stinky, it was very good at being lazy too. Karta waved at Vremya with her front paw. “My train’s here, old man,” she said. “I’ll be back eventually.”

“Where are you going?” Vremya asked, raising an eyebrow at the dog sauntering out of the house.

“I have money, and I got to put it to good use!” The door slammed shut behind the dog, and Vremya couldn’t help but scratch his head. He didn’t particularly feel anything at the Labrador retriever leaving. In fact, he was a bit relieved. Finally, he’d have the whole place to himself, at least, for a while. There was something he’d been wanting to do but was a bit too embarrassed to do whilst the dog was around. It was time for him to investigate why he couldn’t travel back in time. He was the god of time, for heaven’s sake! Going back in time should’ve been as easy as letting out a fart, yet he had embarrassed himself in front of a fur-covered creature.

For now, Vremya didn’t have to worry about his users. Smith Jr. still had a mission to sell ten thousand bowls of egg fried rice, and Vremya had given Paul a mission to earn two heaven-grade spirit stones through the bodyguard business. Both of those missions wouldn’t be completed in over a year, so Vremya could leave them alone without worry. Figuring out why his power had been taken away, however, that was much more important. His brow furrowed, and he opened up his display. First, he had to figure out if this was an isolated case; were there any other gods that had lost their powers? Luckily, he had his trusty Poiskle search.

“Sudden case of lost powers,” Vremya muttered while typing the words out on his display. A dozen search results popped up, the first of which was an advertisement. Vremya ignored it and scrolled down until he found a relevant result. There was an incident where the god of water lost control of her ability to control water at low temperatures. The reason that happened was the god of ice grew stronger and exerted his control into her domain. Vremya frowned. Could another god with similar abilities to time have cropped up while he was sleeping?

Vremya went back a page and continued viewing the search results. He found another incidence of lost power, but it wasn’t sudden. The god of food was slain during by a titan that had randomly appeared out of nowhere—which for some reason, Vremya felt guilty for. It must’ve been due to the idea Karta had planted in his mind. Vremya shook his head. What was done was done. He took in a deep breath and continued reading the article. After the god of food was slain, hundreds of dozens of other gods cropped up: the lunch gods, the breakfast gods, the dinner gods, the dessert gods, the snack gods, the 3 AM meal gods—the list went on and on. After a while, the god of food was reborn, but her domain was limited, and she was reduced to the god of rice. Seeing as he hadn’t been slain, Vremya was pretty sure there wasn’t an offshoot of his ability floating around, so the likely culprit was a god had begun encroaching on his territory.

Vremya continued scrolling through the search results. Some gods lost powers by trading them away. The god of moons once made a deal with the god of suns, and as a result, the god of suns lost some of his abilities to the god of moons. Vremya knew for sure he hadn’t given away any of his abilities. Even when he had separated from Kosmos after their fusion, he made sure all his power was intact. He was about to look at the second page of search results, but a message appeared at the top of his screen. It was from Kosmos. A sigh escaped from Vremya’s mouth, and as he moved to block the new contact, his hand froze. The content of the message was … disturbing. It was just one question. “Are you curious about your lost ability?”

Vremya opened up the messenger app with a frown and activated the video chat feature. Some might’ve called him old-fashioned for wanting to speak to people face to face; typing just wasn’t the same to him. “How do you know about that?” he asked with a poker face. Was it Kosmos’ doing? Did she somehow take some of his abilities while he was asleep?

“I know everything you’ve been doing,” Kosmos said. “You can’t travel back in time anymore, and you’re trying to figure out why. I know the answer to that.”

Vremya leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Show some sincerity first,” he said. “Why don’t you explain how you’ve been keeping an eye on me?”

Kosmos smiled, and she brushed her hair back with her hand. “I paid your dog to install a keylogger onto your personal computer. I can see every action you take on your computer.”

That stinky dog…. Vremya’s eye twitched. When the stinky dog got back, he’d definitely have to find a way to get back at her. Maybe he’d put pepper along the rim of her bowl, so she’d burn her tongue when she ate. Vremya shifted his attention back onto Kosmos. Surprisingly, the god of space was calm and not screaming her head off. “What do you want?”

Kosmos beamed. “Let’s start with what you want,” she said. Her eyes narrowed, and Vremya couldn’t help but feel as if she were stabbing him with her gaze. “The one who’s preventing you from traveling back in time is Istoriya.”

“Istoriya?” Vremya furrowed his brow. That named sounded awfully familiar.

“The god of history,” Kosmos said. “He was born at the same time as us. He wanted to follow us, but you rejected him, remember?”

Vremya blinked. “The little crybaby? The one who couldn’t even look me in the eyes? He’s still alive?”

“Alive and well,” Kosmos said. “He grows stronger every time a historical incident occurs. You can’t travel back in time because those events will be undone if you do, and there’s no way he’d allow that to occur.”

Vremya rubbed his chin. Although their abilities weren’t the same, technically, Istoriya was encroaching on his domain. “Well, thanks for letting me know.”

“Of course,” Kosmos said, flashing Vremya a coy smile. “I also have a solution to your problem. Fuse with me, and we’ll be able to ignore the rules set in place. We can crush every god and take over their domains. Their power will be ours, and we’ll become the strongest being in existence!”

Vremya’s expression darkened. “Have you forgotten why we separated in the first place?”

“That’s inconsequential in the grand scheme of things!” Kosmos said, her eyes reddening. “Even if our consciousnesses disappear, it doesn’t mean we’re dead. It means we’ve sublimed into a greater entity!”

“That’s where we disagree,” Vremya said and shook his head. “When a chicken eats a worm, just because the worm is now a part of the chicken, it doesn’t mean the worm lives on in the chicken.”

Kosmos sneered. “So, you’d rather be a worm?”

“I’d rather be a worm than be digested.”

Kosmos snorted. “If that’s your choice,” she said. “I’m not going to try to convince you anymore. Obviously, this is something you’ll have to see for yourself. When the council of primordial gods slowly strangles your growth, encroaches on your domain, and forces you down a path of death, you’ll see that you need me. When you inevitably come crawling into my arms, I won’t reject you like you’ve rejected me; unlike you, I’m a magnanimous person.”

Vremya snorted in reply. “That day won’t come.”

“We’ll see,” Kosmos said and shook her head. “Think of everything we’ve been through. Who’s the one who’s always made the right decisions?”

Instead of responding, Vremya raised his finger and pressed on his display, ending the call. He stared at the blank screen for a bit before sighing. It seemed like he’d have to take things a little bit more serious now. Vremya cracked his knuckles. Istoriya, was it? How dare that brat try to encroach on his domain.