Chapter 594 A One Of a Kind Rest

Chapter 594 A One Of a Kind Rest

A peculiarity that Abaddon has developed is that he can sleep though just about any amount of screaming, yelling, or breaking noises that might occur while he is trying to rest.

It wasn't a skill he practiced on purpose, but when some of your wives develop an addiction to trashy reality shows that they binge late into the night, you learn to tune certain things out.

That being said, when Abaddon is not dead tired from over exerting himself, waking him is actually quite easy.

A gentle nudge on the cheek was all it took for Abaddon's golden eyes to flutter open after a short nap.

Surprisingly, he awoke to a bed filled with children.

Namely, Gabbrielle, the twins, Nubia, Straga, Mira, and even the trio of the oldest who had left for alternate earth.

Gabbrielle was the one who had woken their father up gently, and he smiled as he sat up and lifted up her small frame into his arms.

"Ah... I knew that I was just dreaming... It's good to see my children's faces after so long."

Gabbrielle did not object to having her father lift her up, but she was still rather robotic in demeanor as she hugged his neck.

"We are all glad to see you are well, but we must inform you that you were not dreaming. You gave us another sibling in your sleep."

Abaddon's eyes flashed open as his memories of earlier came rushing back.

"What the hell did I do..?" Abaddon asked hollowly.

"Reality manipulation. Seems like it was quite large scale too. None of us recovered our memories of the original timeline until you did, though it seems since Courtney is still human, she doesn't remember anything other than this one." Gabbrielle answered.

At the moment when Abaddon fell asleep after the battle, the ability of oblivion kicked in.

Because he didn't just destroy souls but completely erased them from memory instead, oblivion re-wrote reality as if the affected individuals never existed.

This caused a slight shift in what they knew as normalcy, with some changes being minor and insignificant, and others being completely new.

Like Thrudd's parentage, Sif and Abaddon's relationship status, as well as the fact that she was a jotunn.

The only people who seem to be unable to remember were Sif and Thrudd- and one could only assume that was because they were the ones among the most affected.

'Christ, what have I done...?' Abaddon was trying his damndest not to delve too far back into his memories, but it was difficult.

He remembered his first time meeting Sif.

As well as the first night they slept together, and other things he definitely shouldn't have known.

And he recalled how betrayed he felt when she left him.

It was all a bit too much for him if he were being honest.

"Where are your mothers..?" He finally asked.

"In the garden. They tied Miss Sif to a stick like she was a pig about to be roasted and I'm sure they're probably beating her or something." Yemaya answered.

Oddly enough, that wasn't nearly the most concerning thing Abaddon had heard today.

"Dad...?"

Abaddon looked up at Nubia and found her anxiously twirling her thumbs as she drew her cloak over her shoulders.

"You're not... gonna undo everything that you did, right..?"

This question seemed to be what everyone wanted to know, as they all stared at him in anticipation like they were hanging off his every word.

He knew what they were asking about specifically.

Thrudd.

How she got in their lives was irrelevant, as each of them vividly remember knowing her like the back of their hand.

All of the Tathamet children's are extremely close-knit, but Thrudd is something like the glue that holds them all together.

She is fun, an extremely hard worker, wise, and resembles Abaddon in personality almost to a tee.

Each of her siblings love her dearly.

Truly a man's paradise for dragons, humans, and monsters alike.

Asmodeus, like most everyone else enjoys coming here to enjoy a cigar and maybe a bit of alcohol while he engages in a bit of meaningless wagering.

It is his safe space.

His Shangri-La.

Or, at least it was those things.

But now, he is only surrounded by memories of what used to be as he chokes on the ashes of regret.

"You have some damn nerve... I take my eyes away from you for a brief moment and you begin cheating on my princess?!"

"I had immense respect for you once... but that is no more. I've half a mind to draw my blade cleave your head from your body where you stand."

"Guhahahahaha!!!! My little bean sprout brother has been out pretty boy'd by his own brat! This is too good, too good indeed!!"

'God... fucking... damnit...' Asmodeus hung his head as low as a dog as the taste of his cigar suddenly resembled shit underneath the relentless berating he'd suffered.

Darius, Hajun, Absalom, Hakon, Belphegor, and even Camazotz were inside snickering like mad.

'I swear... if it is the last thing I do I'm going to kill that damn boy of mine for-'

*Click!*

At that moment, the door to the man cave opened and the face that everyone knew and loved stepped inside.

"Hey, there he is!"

"Mister One vs All, huh? Remind me what exactly you need us generals for again?"

"Master!"

"My lord is in good health. This is cause for celebration indeed."

Right now, Abaddon looked the least bit Emperor-like as possible.

His hair was messily tied above his head, and his muscular body was hidden beneath a black hoodie and sweatpants that just barely seemed to hide the the sculpted mass underneath.

He wore a simple pair of slides from a famous sports brand on his feet, and standing beside him was the large and friendly face of Bagheera.

He held his hands up bashfully underneath his friends' praise and attempted to get them to calm down.

"By the stars... You've grown well, my nephew. What a difference a few months can make."

Abaddon was stunned at the sight of a familiar man standing beside the card table.

This was the first time he'd ever seen him out of red armor before, and he had to admit that his mother Yara didn't seem to be the only one who was blessed with miraculously good looks.

With long white hair and piercing icy blue eyes that were both fearsome and regal, Iori Draven was every bit as impressive now as the day he died.

"What's wrong, grandson? You look as if you've seen a ghost."

Standing beside Iori was a man who was impossible not to notice.

At 7'2, he was no longer taller than his grandson, but his body was only a few details shy of being just as physically imposing.

As always, he wore a pink robe draped over his broad shoulders and a white skirt with no shoes on his clawed feet.

A tattoo of a bull-like demon faced creature covered almost the entirety of his chest, giving him a very wild appearance.

His powdery white hair hung freely down his back; nearly touching the ground.

Previously, Abaddon had only ever seen him smile a handful of times, and now he could add today to that list.

He looked like the proudest old man anyone could ever see.

Abaddon smiled warmly as he held out his hand.

"Somebody get me a cigar and a drink. Today the golden dragon flies again."