Note, I'm rewriting my older chapters, so it may not make sense until I get to chapter 6
Darkness. Silence. Then light. A shimmering void unfolds like a galaxy breathing for the first time. Stars swirl in silver arcs, forming patterns older than the gods themselves.
A voice hums through the emptiness, playful, powerful, and impossible to localize.
"Well, well, look who tripped over mortality. Again."
A man stands, or rather, his soul does. Ordinary, human, confused. He squints at the figure reclining on a throne made entirely of shifting constellations.
"...You're not Saint Peter."
The cosmic figure grins. "Saint Peter? Please. Amateur hour. I'm R.O.B. Random Omnipotent Being, patron saint of second chances and questionable decisions."
The man blinks. "So I'm dead?"
"Bingo! You win a new life, my friend. I've been bored, and multiverse management needs a bit of… spice."
The soul crosses its arms. "What's the catch?"
ROB waves his hand. "No catch. You get to choose where you go, what you become. Go wild! Hero, villain, toaster, I've seen it all."
The man hesitates. "Alright… if I can choose anything…"He smirks. "Make me a god. Full god. And give me the powers of Revan the Force, the saber skills, the whole package."
ROB's eyebrows rise. "Oh-ho! Ambitious! I like it."
Then, the man adds, half joking, half daring.
"And make me the son of Artemis. You know, the eternal maiden goddess of the Hunt. That'll be funny."
Silence. Then ROB bursts out laughing so hard that galaxies flicker out of alignment.
"Oh, this is too good. The goddess who hates men and her son's going to be a cosmic Force-wielding demigod? Nah, let's go all in. You're not a demigod, kid. You're a full god."
The man blinks. "Wait, what?"
"Good luck, kiddo. Try not to get smited before your first moonrise."
"Well, well, look who tripped over mortality. Again."
"...You're not Saint Peter."
"Saint Peter? Please. Amateur hour. I'm R.O.B. Random Omnipotent Being, patron saint of second chances and questionable decisions."
"So I'm dead?"
"Bingo! You win a new life, my friend. I've been bored, and multiverse management needs a bit of… spice."
"What's the catch?"
"No catch. You get to choose where you go, what you become. Go wild! Hero, villain, toaster, I've seen it all."
"Alright… if I can choose anything…"
"Make me a god. Full god. And give me the powers of Revan the Force, the saber skills, the whole package."
"Oh-ho! Ambitious! I like it."
"And make me the son of Artemis. You know, the eternal maiden goddess of the Hunt. That'll be funny."
"Oh, this is too good. The goddess who hates men and her son's going to be a cosmic Force-wielding demigod? Nah, let's go all in. You're not a demigod, kid. You're a full god."
"Wait, what?"
"Good luck, kiddo. Try not to get smited before your first moonrise."The divine light intensified, no longer a gentle warmth but a searing inferno, rewriting his very essence. He felt his mortal coils shed, replaced by an unimaginable cosmic power surging through him. This nascent god now grappled with a destiny far grander and infinitely more perilous.
Olympus
Darkness. Silence. Then light. A shimmering void unfolded, bathing the divine council in an otherworldly glow.
Artemis gasped, her silver energy reacting to the unexpected celestial event unfolding before her.
Zeus, enraged, demanded answers as Hera succumbed to the overwhelming spectacle of power.
A small, luminous infant, eyes like liquid starlight, appeared within the moon's ethereal radiance.
Artemis, awestruck, found her voice to utter a profound observation about the child's beauty.
Zeus, furious and demanding an explanation, addressed Artemis regarding her oath and its implications.
A chime of laughter disrupted the tension, signaling the arrival of an unexpected, familiar presence.
ROB, casually munching popcorn, declared he had bestowed a unique, potent gift upon Zeus's daughter.
Zeus questioned the nature of this gift, his temper flaring with divine fury and disbelief.
ROB explained the child's divine conception, a son born of Artemis's essence and pure cosmic energy.
He offered a playful warning to the infant, a hint of the immense power he now wielded.
With a final gesture, ROB disappeared, leaving the Olympians to grapple with the revelation.
The infant opened his eyes, and the moonlight answered him. Tiny beams curved into shapes around his hands, forming a silver wisp that looked suspiciously like a miniature lightsaber.
Apollo, watching nearby, gaped.
"He just made a moon-saber. Sis, he's adorable."
Artemis glared. "Touch him, and I'll turn you into a deer."
Apollo raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I'm just saying he's already cooler than half the gods here."
Zeus grumbled, "He's your responsibility, Artemis. And no mortal is to know of his existence."
The king of gods turned away, muttering under his breath.
"...Still, he is my grandson. Strong chin. Good lightning potential."
Apollo smirked. "You're proud."
"I AM NOT."(He absolutely was.)
Hunters camp
Word travels fast among immortals. By the next moonrise, the silver woods of Artemis's domain were buzzing with disbelief. Phoebe exchanged a look with Zoe. "My Lady… we serve you gladly, but… Do you have a son?"Zoe Nightshade stood with her arms crossed, her expression carved from marble. "This is impossible."
Phoebe, bow in hand, eyed the silver cradle glowing near Artemis's tent. "Lady Artemis does not consort with men."
A low hum of the Force rippled across the clearing. The cradle shimmered brighter, and the child giggled, moonlight bending into tiny, dancing lights shaped like rabbits and deer.
Phoebe blinked. "...Did he just make a rabbit out of light?"
"Yes," Zoe said flatly. "And it is smiling at me."
The tiny light-rabbit hopped toward Zoe and poofed into sparkles upon reaching her foot.
The immortal lieutenant froze. "…I do not like this."
The goddess's silver eyes softened as she looked down at the infant.
"Not by mortal means. He was… given to me. A gift from the cosmos itself."
Zoe frowned, suspicious but loyal. "And you accept him?"
For a long moment, Artemis didn't answer. Then she brushed a strand of hair from her child's face and whispered,
"I do."
Auron cooed, and with a flick of his tiny hand, a nearby tree blossomed into silver fruit glowing like lanterns. The air shimmered with moonlight.
Phoebe's mouth dropped open. "By the gods…"
Even Zoe's stern façade cracked into wonder. "…He carries your divinity, my Lady. And something else. I can feel it."
"The Force," Artemis said quietly. "A power beyond Olympus, yet bound to the balance of all things. He is… a bridge."
A soft laugh came from the edge of the camp, Apollo, perched on a branch with his lyre.
"A bridge, huh? More like a magnet for chaos. Look at him, he's already got the moonlight wrapped around his little finger."
Zoe turned on him. "Begone, sunspawn. Your presence scorches our patience."
Apollo pressed a hand to his chest in mock injury. "Ouch! Cold as ever, Zoe. You'll regret that when my nephew writes a song about you."
"You're what?" Zoe blinked.
Artemis sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Yes, apparently he calls himself 'Uncle Apollo' now."
Apollo winked. "The best uncle! I'm teaching him poetry when he's older. Maybe some flirting."
Zoe's glare could have turned him to stone. "He will not learn mortal courting from you."
Auron giggled a pure, musical laugh that made even Zoe falter. The trees responded with soft silver blossoms.
Phoebe whispered, awed, "He's… beautiful."
Artemis smiled small, rare, but genuine smile. "He is mine. My little moonlight."
A few Years Later
Under the moonlight, a boy stood before a lake, silver light dancing around his fingers. The Force moved like a living current through his veins, calm, balanced, infinite.
He had her eyes. Her calm. Her stubbornness.Auron, son of Artemis and creation itself.
Artemis approached silently, pride softening her stern features.
"You've grown strong, my little moonlight."
Auron turned, smiling. "And you've learned to smile more, Mother."
She raised an eyebrow. "Careful, child. That mouth will earn you a decade of silence."
"Maybe. But you like it."
A small, reluctant smirk ghosted across her lips.
Behind them, Zoe and Phoebe watched from a distance, bows in hand, expressions caught between awe and exasperation.
Phoebe whispered, "He's… not what I expected."
Zoe exhaled. "No. He's worse."Beat."…I think I like him."
"Psst. Is he… is he really doing that?" "Apparently. The whole 'silver light dancing around his fingers' thing? Textbook Force-glow, according to legend. And *he's* the legend in question, apparently." "I thought the 'son of Artemis' part would involve more… archery. Or maybe howling at the moon with a pack of celestial wolves. This is just… sparkly finger-wiggling." "Give him a break, Phoebe. He's probably still working on his lunar lasso technique. Besides, he's got her eyes. You can't deny that. And her stubbornness, judging by this conversation." "Her *stern* features, you mean. That's the Artemis I know. She's about to unleash a lecture on proper moonlight etiquette, I just know it." "Watch this. She's going for the 'you've grown strong' opener. Classic mom move." "'My little moonlight.' Seriously? That's what she calls him? I was expecting something more along the lines of 'Fledgling Hunter of the Night.' Or at least 'Little Starbeam.'" "Oh, here it comes. The 'careful, child' warning. She's softening, but she's still Artemis. The duality is… fascinating. And slightly terrifying." "Wait, he's… he's being *cheeky*? To Artemis? The goddess of the hunt and… and stern disapproval?" "And he's right! She *does* like it. Look at that tiny, almost imperceptible twitch of her lip. It's like a rare celestial event." "Maybe. But you like it.' He's going to get himself turned into a particularly melodious owl for that." "He's got balls. Or whatever the immortal equivalent is. I'll give him that." "He's not what I expected, though. At all." "No. He's worse." "…I think I like him." "Wait, what? Zoe, you're the sensible one! You're supposed to be worried about him!" "He's just… so *effortlessly* irritating. It's an art form." "So, we're embracing chaos then? That's the plan?" "If it involves him teasing Artemis into a reluctant smirk, then yes. Absolutely." "Right then." "Did you hear that? Sounded like a cosmic chuckle. Probably just the universe spontaneously combusting from all this delightful absurdity." "Or maybe it's just ROB, finally getting his money's worth. 'Best. Chaos. Investment. Ever.' I can practically hear him muttering it." "Well, if this is his idea of a good investment, I'm suddenly very curious about his portfolio."
Above them, the moon gleamed, and somewhere far beyond the stars, ROB whispered to himself, chuckling:
"Best. Chaos. Investment. Ever."