On the fifth day, Maxime killed his first Shadow without being touched.
He was still sweating, his muscles still burned, but the creature had not managed to reach him. Not a scratch. Not a single hit taken. He had dodged, parried, counterattacked with a fluidity that was finally beginning to resemble something coherent rather than the frantic panic of his first fight.
"Better." Nyx was watching from her usual perch, a half-collapsed column she had apparently adopted as a personal throne. "Your movements are less wasteful. You're starting to anticipate instead of reacting."
Maxime wiped his forehead, panting. His body had changed over the past few days—not drastically, but enough for him to notice. His muscles were more defined, his skin slightly more tanned, as if the divinity slumbering within him were beginning to manifest physically.
[MAXIME / EROS PRIMORDIAL — LEVEL 2]
Divinity: 14%
Attributes:
Strength: 22 (+4)
Agility: 21 (+5)
Endurance: 24 (+4)
Mana: 178/178 (+36)
Charisma: 31
Skills:
Imbued Strike (Rank F → Rank E)
Instinctive Dodge (Rank F) — NEW
Note: Rapid progression. Divine heritage beginning to express itself.
"I'm leveling up like in an RPG," Maxime muttered, staring at the interface. "This is so absurd."
"Absurd?" Nyx leapt down from her column, landing silently beside him. "The Codex merely quantifies what already exists. Your strength increases because you're learning to channel your divine essence into your muscles. Your agility improves because your brain is adapting to a body that can move faster than what a mortal would consider possible." She traced a symbol in the air, and a sphere of water appeared, floating between them. "Drink. You're dehydrated."
Maxime drank greedily. The water was cool, pure, almost too perfect to be natural. When he finished, the sphere dissipated.
"Why isn't Charisma moving?" he asked, pointing at the interface.
Nyx's smile turned enigmatic.
"Because Charisma isn't something you train like strength or agility. It's… intangible. It's the power of your presence, the influence your very being exerts on the world and those around you." She stepped closer, her finger brushing Maxime's chest just above his heart. "Primordial Eros had a Charisma of 847. When he entered a room, mortals fell to their knees. Lesser gods lowered their eyes. Goddesses…" Her gaze clouded. "…goddesses would have followed him into Hell without hesitation."
Maxime felt something tighten in his chest. The part of him that was Eros recognized the truth in those words, but Maxime-the-human could not help feeling a crushing sense of inadequacy.
"I'm not him," he said softly.
"Not yet." Nyx withdrew her hand. "But you will become him again. Fragment by fragment, memory by memory." She turned away, and for the first time in days, Maxime saw something resembling hesitation in her posture. "The question is… will you still want me when you've become him again?"
The silence stretched, heavy and uncomfortable.
"I don't know," Maxime admitted. Honesty seemed like the only option. "I don't remember anything. You tell me I was someone else, someone powerful, someone who had divine lovers and cosmic enemies. But I remember being an accountant in a miserable firm in Paris. I remember missing three promotions because I didn't dare ask. I remember…"
He stopped, suddenly realizing how distant, how blurred those memories already felt, like a life that had belonged to someone else.
Nyx turned slowly. Her face was unreadable.
"You're afraid."
It wasn't a question.
"Yes," Maxime admitted. "I'm afraid of disappearing. Afraid that this guy, Eros, will take over and Maxime will cease to exist."
"That's impossible." Nyx stepped forward, and this time her hand firmly grasped Maxime's. "You're not being possessed. You're not being erased. You are… remembering who you've always been. Maxime isn't separate from Eros. Maxime is Eros who forgot. And when you remember, you'll be both. Complete. Whole."
She lifted Maxime's hand to her lips, pressing a kiss to it that burned like ice.
"And yes, I will still want you. Because I loved you when you were an arrogant god who shattered pantheons out of boredom. I loved you when you were a fragmented soul wandering from life to life. And I love you now, when you're a terrified man fighting monsters you don't yet understand."
Maxime's heart was pounding too fast. It was too intense, too fast, too much of everything. But he didn't pull his hand away.
"You don't know me," he murmured.
"I've known you since before the Olympians built their first temple." Nyx's eyes were blazing now, galaxies in fusion. "I saw you born from Primordial Chaos. I saw you shape the first desire in the heart of the first human. I saw you weep when you realized that the love you created could also destroy."
She moved even closer, her forehead nearly touching Maxime's.
"So no, I may not know your mortal musical preferences or your favorite dish. But I know your soul. And it hasn't changed."
Maxime should have stepped back. Should have set boundaries. But something in him—perhaps Eros, perhaps simply himself—wanted this closeness, this certainty that someone truly knew him.
Their lips met.
It wasn't gentle. It was desperate, ravenous, as if Nyx were trying to devour three thousand years of solitude in a single kiss. Maxime responded without thinking, his hands finding her waist, pulling her against him. She was cold, inhumanly cold, but not in a repulsive way. It was the cold of space, of the void between stars, and it was strangely intoxicating.
The Divine Codex emitted a signal.
[ALERT: MANA ACTIVITY DETECTED]
Source: Resonance between bearer and divine entity
Effect: Primordial Bond forming
Warning: This process will permanently alter the soul structures of both participants. Continue?
Maxime broke the kiss, panting. "Wait—what?"
Nyx stepped back, her cheeks—could they blush?—slightly flushed. She looked as surprised as he was.
"A… Primordial Bond." Her voice was less steady now. "It's what happens when two divine beings share… deep intimacy. Their essences begin to connect. To reinforce each other."
"And the 'permanent alterations'?"
"Our souls would be partially linked." She looked away. "You could feel my emotions if they were intense. I could locate your position wherever you are. And our powers… would be strengthened in each other's presence."
"So. Permanent."
"Yes."
Maxime ran a hand through his hair, trying to organize his thoughts. It was too much. Too fast. He had known her for five days—no, that was wrong. A part of him had known her for an eternity. But that part wasn't fully him yet.
"I'm not ready," he finally said.
He expected anger, disappointment, maybe even divine violence. Nyx was a Primordial, after all. She could have forced him.
Instead, she simply nodded.
"I understand." Her smile was sad but sincere. "I waited three millennia for you. I can wait a little longer."
She snapped her fingers, and suddenly the temple was swarming with Corrupted Shadows. Ten, twenty, thirty. All of them fixing Maxime with their hungry non-eyes.
"But training won't wait for you." Nyx's voice returned to that of the merciless mentor. "Show me that Rank E."
Maxime couldn't help laughing—a nervous, exhausted, but genuine laugh. He summoned the sword of darkness, feeling mana flow through his veins with a new ease.
"You're impossible."
"I know."
And he charged.
This time, it wasn't a chaotic massacre. It was almost… a dance. His movements flowed naturally, each strike calculated, each dodge measured. He used his Imbued Strike sparingly, maximizing his mana efficiency. When a Shadow nearly reached him, his Instinctive Dodge triggered—his body moving before his brain even processed the threat.
Twelve minutes later, all the Shadows were dispersed.
Maxime dropped to his knees, drained but uninjured.
Mana: 34/178
Injuries: None
Combat Level: Beginner demigod
Nyx applauded slowly, her smile now genuinely proud.
"You're ready." She conjured a translucent map between them, showing a desert landscape with a temple at its center. "Tomorrow, we leave for Bubastis."
Maxime stared at the map, then at Nyx, then back at the map. His heart was racing, but this time it wasn't fear.
It was anticipation.
"Tell me about Bastet."
Nyx sat down beside him, their shoulders touching.
"Egyptian goddess of Joy, Dance, and Sensual Secrets. She guarded one of your fragments because you were… close." A crooked smile. "Very close. She won't be easy to convince to give it back. Bastet loves games. And her games are rarely innocent."
"Great." Maxime sighed. "So I'm going to have to seduce an Egyptian cat goddess to get a piece of my soul back."
"Or fight her. Or both." Nyx shrugged. "With Bastet, it's impossible to predict."
She stood and offered him her hand to help him up.
"Rest tonight. Truly. Tomorrow, everything becomes real."
Maxime took her hand, rising with a groan. His muscles protested, but it was a familiar pain now. A pain that meant growth.
"Nyx?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you. For the training. For… everything."
The goddess of Night smiled, and for a moment she looked almost vulnerable.
"You don't have to thank me. Taking care of you isn't a burden." She hesitated. "It's a privilege."
She vanished into the shadows before he could respond, leaving him alone in the twilight temple.
Maxime looked at the two eternal moons and wondered what awaited him in Egypt.