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"Agreed," Artoria stated firmly. "A suitable rotation or schedule perhaps."
Gilgamesh scoffed, adjusting her golden attire with a flick of her wrist. "Schedules? How pedestrian. Divine beings don't require such mundane constraints."
"Said the goddess currently sporting a cosmic elbow print on her cheek," Arcueid observed with a smile that was equal parts amusement and fang.
Gilgamesh's hand flew to her face, her expression darkening. "Who dares—"
"Ladies," Viyrim interrupted, finally regaining his composure and replacing his blindfold. "While this has been... educational... perhaps we should continue this discussion in a more suitable venue? One designed to accommodate multiple divine presences without spatial collapse?"
"The café," Amaterasu nodded, her solar radiance returning to its normal blinding levels. "A neutral ground."
"With proper refreshments," Rider added pragmatically.
"And witnesses to prevent further... incidents," Alter muttered, shooting accusatory glances at her rivals.
Viyrim looked to Vados, who nodded serenely. "I believe I can reconfigure the café's main chamber to accommodate all divine energies without dimensional strain," she confirmed. "Though I recommend maintaining a minimum six-inch personal space buffer to prevent unintended energy transfers."
"Six inches seems excessive," Gilgamesh remarked, her gaze lingering meaningfully on Viyrim.
"Six feet would be more appropriate," Artoria countered firmly.
Another argument seemed imminent until Viyrim raised his hands, cosmic energy crackling between his fingertips in gentle reminder of his own considerable power. "To the café," he declared, his tone brooking no dissent. "Vados, if you would?"
With a gesture from his attendant, reality folded around them. The cosmic void disappeared, replaced by the familiar interior of Destruction's Table—though noticeably expanded to accommodate the divine gathering more comfortably. The long table had been replaced by a circular arrangement that eliminated questions of precedence, with Viyrim's seat slightly elevated but otherwise equal to the others.
"Adequate," Scáthach assessed, taking her place with immortal grace.
The others arranged themselves with careful attention to their positioning relative to Viyrim, each seeking optimal proximity without appearing too eager. The resulting arrangement resembled nothing so much as a divine council of war—which, in many ways, it was.
"Now," Viyrim began once all were seated, "perhaps we can discuss this situation like the ancient, powerful, dignified beings we are, without further... physicality."
"Unless requested," Gilgamesh amended with a smile that would have melted lesser beings into puddles of cosmic goo.
Viyrim actually blushed—a sight so unprecedented that even Vados paused in her preparations to stare briefly.
"The situation," Artoria redirected firmly, "appears to be that we have all developed an... interest... in the God of Destruction and his establishment."
"An interest that extends beyond mere culinary appreciation," Scáthach clarified, her ancient eyes fixed on Viyrim.
"And presents certain logistical challenges," Amaterasu added, her divine light pulsing slightly with her words. "Given our respective powers and positions."
"In simpler terms," Arcueid concluded bluntly, "we're all trying to court the same god, and it's getting messy."
A moment of silence followed this frank assessment as each divine entity considered the unprecedented situation. Gods had shared pantheons before, had formed alliances and councils and cosmic arrangements of various sorts. But this—multiple divine beings actively pursuing a single entity of comparable or greater power—was uncharted territory even for immortals.
"I propose a competition," Gilgamesh announced finally. "A series of trials to determine who is most worthy of the God of Destruction's exclusive attention."
"Absolutely not," Viyrim interjected hastily, recognizing the catastrophic potential of divine beings competing directly for his affections. "Fuyuki would not survive your idea of competitive courtship."
"Then what do you suggest?" Amaterasu challenged. "Divine timeshares?"
Viyrim looked helplessly to Vados, who merely offered an innocent smile that clearly conveyed: 'You created this situation, my lord. You solve it.'
After a moment of cosmic consideration, Viyrim straightened in his seat, divine authority settling around him like a mantle. "I propose a different approach," he said carefully. "One better suited to my nature as an entity outside your reality's normal constraints."
The divine gathering leaned forward collectively, intrigued despite themselves.
"In many reality clusters," Viyrim continued, gaining confidence, "gods maintain multiple divine partnerships simultaneously. Zeus, Odin, Ra—all maintained complex arrangements with various divine and semi-divine entities."
"You suggest we... share?" Alter's darkness swirled ominously at the concept.
"I suggest," Viyrim clarified, "that as a being from outside your reality's structures, I am not bound by its conventional limitations. My divine essence is... expansive enough to appreciate each of your unique qualities without requiring exclusive focus."
The café fell silent as each goddess or divine entity processed this proposal. Gilgamesh's expression was calculatingly neutral, while Artoria appeared caught between offense and practical consideration. Amaterasu's light fluctuated in a pattern that suggested intense divine computation.
"It's unorthodox," Scáthach acknowledged finally.
"But not without precedent in various pantheons," Rider added thoughtfully.
"And potentially preferable to destroying this reality with our competition," Arcueid conceded pragmatically.
Alter's darkness coalesced into a sardonic smile. "The God of Destruction proposes creation instead—a new divine arrangement suited to his unique nature."
"Not quite what I expected when I stole rice from divine fields," Amaterasu mused, her expression softening to something approaching amusement.
All eyes turned to Gilgamesh, traditionally the most prideful and possessive of the group. The King of Heroes considered Viyrim with narrowed eyes, divine calculations visibly processing behind her crimson gaze.
"A king may maintain a court," she declared finally. "Provided proper recognition of primacy is established."
"I maintain no hierarchies in my divine associations," Viyrim countered smoothly. "Each connection exists according to its own unique nature. Equal but different."
Another tense moment followed as Gilgamesh weighed this declaration against her considerable pride. Finally, surprisingly, she nodded once—a concession that would have shocked those who knew her in earlier ages.
"Acceptable," she pronounced. "Though I expect recognition of my seniority in your acquaintance."
"Chronological precedence only," Viyrim clarified firmly. "Not hierarchical."
"Fine," Gilgamesh acquiesced with unexpected grace. "The arrangement is... innovative enough to merit my participation."
A collective divine exhalation seemed to ripple through the café as the most significant hurdle was overcome. Vados, observing from nearby, looked both impressed and amused at her master's diplomatic solution.
"Well then," Viyrim said, relief evident in his cosmic tone, "shall we consider this matter... tentatively resolved?"
"Pending practical implementation," Artoria amended, ever the pragmatic ruler.
"Which brings us back to schedules," Scáthach noted with dry humor.
"And boundaries," Amaterasu added meaningfully.
"And expectations," Arcueid concluded.
Viyrim's relief evaporated as he realized he had merely resolved the overarching conflict, not the countless practical complications that would follow. His expression of dawning cosmic dismay was so comical that several of the divine beings actually laughed—a harmonious sound that caused reality to vibrate pleasantly around them.
"Perhaps," Vados suggested, finally taking pity on her master, "such details could be established gradually, through practical experience rather than abstract planning?"
"Meaning?" Alter prompted.
"Meaning," Vados explained, "that divine relationships, like mortal ones, evolve naturally through interaction, shared experiences, and mutual understanding. Rather than creating a cosmic contract detailing every parameter, perhaps allow your connections to develop organically within the shared agreement of mutual respect."
"Reasonable," Artoria conceded, always appreciative of wisdom regardless of its source.
"And less tedious than divine scheduling," Gilgamesh added with evident relief.
As the tense atmosphere dissolved into something approaching comfortable acceptance, Viyrim shot Vados a grateful glance. She acknowledged it with a slight bow that somehow managed to convey 'You're welcome' and 'You still created this situation yourself' simultaneously.
"Now that we've reached this historic accord," Viyrim declared, regaining his cosmic confidence, "perhaps we could enjoy refreshments to celebrate? Vados, I believe this occasion calls for something special."
"Indeed, my lord," his attendant agreed. "I've prepared 'Divine Harmony'—a multilayered creation with elements specifically designed to complement each divine essence present while creating a unified whole."
The dish she presented defied conventional description—parts of it glowed with solar energy, others shimmered with lunar power, sections carried the golden radiance of ancient kings, the noble strength of legendary knights, the primal essence of immortal warriors, and the complex interplay of fate's darker aspects.
Together, in a moment of unprecedented divine cooperation, the gathered entities sampled this cosmic offering—each experiencing their unique aspect while simultaneously perceiving the harmonious whole.
"Remarkable," Amaterasu acknowledged, her divine light pulsing with pleasure.
"Balanced," Artoria agreed with appreciative surprise.
"Worthy," Gilgamesh pronounced, which from her was the highest praise imaginable.
As they shared this symbolic meal, something subtle but profound shifted in the café's metaphysical foundations. The boundary field that had been expanding throughout Fuyuki stabilized, no longer growing but deepening—becoming more thoroughly integrated with the city's existing spiritual geography.
Outside the café, life in Fuyuki continued much as before—the Holy Grail War technically ongoing but increasingly secondary to the cosmic nexus forming at Destruction's Table. Within those walls, a new divine arrangement was taking shape, unprecedented in any reality cluster Viyrim had previously encountered.
He found himself, ironically, creating rather than destroying—building connections rather than severing them, establishing harmony rather than chaos. It was novel, disorienting, and surprisingly... satisfying.
"Vados," he murmured as the divine gathering broke into smaller conversations, "I believe this vacation may become extended indefinitely."
"How shocking, my lord," Vados replied with perfect seriousness belied only by the twinkle in her eyes. "I never would have anticipated such an outcome."
Viyrim shot her a suspicious glance. "You didn't... orchestrate this somehow, did you?"
"I merely serve, my lord," Vados answered innocently. "Though I will admit to having observed certain patterns across multiple reality clusters that suggested potential compatibility between various divine entities and your own unique essence."
"Cosmic matchmaking," Viyrim accused without heat. "You've been playing divine cupid."
"A crude simplification," Vados sniffed. "I prefer 'strategic harmonic facilitation of divine energies.'"
"Six of one, half dozen of the other," Viyrim muttered, though his cosmic displeasure was clearly feigned. His gaze returned to the gathered divine beings, each extraordinary in their own way, each now somehow connected to him through this bizarre arrangement. "Though I suppose I can't complain about the results."
"Indeed not, my lord," Vados agreed with satisfaction. "Even gods deserve companionship. Especially gods of destruction, who so rarely find entities capable of appreciating their more subtle qualities."
This surprisingly heartfelt observation caught Viyrim off-guard. He studied his attendant with new appreciation, recognizing that beneath her perfect service lay genuine concern for his cosmic wellbeing.
"Thank you, Vados," he said simply. "For everything."
"You're welcome, Lord Viyrim," she replied with equal sincerity. Then, returning to her usual practical efficiency: "Now, shall I prepare the café for tomorrow's operations? I believe we should expand the kitchen facilities if Shirou is to continue his training under these new circumstances."
And just like that, the cosmic moment passed, replaced by the practical considerations of running a divine café in the middle of a Holy Grail War. Yet something had fundamentally changed in Destruction's Table—a shift from temporary diversion to permanent fixture, from casual curiosity to committed creation.
The God of Destruction had found a reason to preserve rather than annihilate, to build rather than break. And the universe, in its infinite wisdom, adjusted accordingly.
---
## Chapter 12: Divine Complications
Morning found Shirou arriving early at the café, mentally preparing himself for another day of cosmic culinary adventures. What he didn't prepare for was opening the kitchen door to find seven divine or semi-divine women engaged in what appeared to be a cooking competition of supernatural proportions.
Gilgamesh wielded golden utensils with imperious precision, preparing what looked like ancient Mesopotamian delicacies enhanced with divine energy. Beside her, Artoria methodically followed a recipe of knightly perfection, her movements efficient and purposeful. Alter created darker variants of the same dishes, her corrupted energy infusing the food with complex undertones. Amaterasu's station literally glowed as she infused solar essence into traditional Japanese cuisine, while Arcueid's preparations carried the silvery luminescence of moonlight. Rider worked with serpentine grace on Mediterranean offerings, and Scáthach crafted ancient Celtic provisions with immortal precision.
In the center of this divine culinary chaos stood Viyrim, blindfolded as usual but clearly delighted, sampling each offering with cosmic appreciation while offering surprisingly detailed feedback.
"More salt in the ancient grain porridge, Gilgamesh," he suggested. "Divine palates tend toward intensity."
"The knight's stew needs longer simmering, Artoria," he advised. "Noble intentions require patience."
"Excellent balance of dark and light flavors, Alter," he praised. "Corruption need not mean absence of subtlety."
"Perfect rice consistency, Amaterasu," he approved. "Your divine domain serves you well in the kitchen."
And so it continued, each goddess receiving both critique and praise while simultaneously competing and cooperating in this strangest of divine courtship rituals.
"What... is happening?" Shirou asked Vados, who stood observing the proceedings with her usual calm efficiency.
"Culinary courtship," Vados explained. "An ancient tradition across multiple reality clusters. Divine beings demonstrating practical devotion through nourishment."
"They're all... cooking for him?" Shirou couldn't quite wrap his mind around the concept of legendary entities and literal goddesses engaged in something so domestic. "Why?"
"An accord was reached last night," Vados informed him. "A new divine arrangement acknowledging multiple simultaneous connections rather than exclusive partnership. This morning's activities represent the first practical implementation of that theoretical framework."
Shirou blinked several times, processing this. "They're all dating him? At once? With everyone's knowledge and consent?"
"A crude but essentially accurate summary," Vados confirmed. "Though 'dating' hardly captures the cosmic significance of divine entities forming harmonic resonance patterns."
"Right," Shirou nodded slowly. "Divine polyamory. And they're okay with this?"
"They found it preferable to destroying reality through competitive courtship," Vados replied matter-of-factly. "A practical compromise."
Before Shirou could respond to this extraordinary statement, Viyrim noticed his presence. "Ah, my faithful human chef! Come, you must sample these divine creations and offer your professional assessment. Your mortal perspective provides valuable contrast to my cosmic palate."
Thus Shirou found himself in the surreal position of judging the culinary efforts of beings who could obliterate him with a thought. He approached this daunting task with characteristic earnestness, offering honest feedback tempered with appropriate respect.
"The texture of your bread is perfect, Gilgamesh," he noted, "though perhaps less honey would allow the grain's natural sweetness to emerge."
The King of Heroes initially bristled at the critique before considering it thoughtfully. "Interesting perspective," she acknowledged. "In ancient Uruk, honey was precious enough to use abundantly when available, but your point about balance has merit."
Similar exchanges followed with each divine chef, Shirou somehow managing to offer genuinely helpful suggestions without triggering cosmic retribution. By the time they had worked through all seven offerings, a strange camaraderie had developed—Shirou accepted as a neutral culinary authority despite his mortal status.
"The human has unexpected wisdom," Amaterasu observed, adjusting her rice preparation technique based on his suggestion.
"His understanding of flavor harmony transcends his limited lifespan," Scáthach agreed, implementing his advice on herb proportions.
Viyrim beamed with something approaching pride. "My café attracts only the finest practitioners of culinary arts—divine or mortal."
The unlikely cooking lesson might have continued indefinitely had the café door not opened, admitting Rin with Archer close behind. They stopped abruptly at the threshold, taking in the unprecedented gathering of divine beings engaged in domestic activities.
"What," Rin began, then stopped, apparently unable to find words adequate to the situation.
Archer, more accustomed to cosmic oddities, merely raised an eyebrow. "Well," he observed dryly, "this explains the substantial shift in the city's spiritual geography overnight."
"Tohsaka," Shirou greeted her with remarkable calm given the circumstances. "Good morning. We're having a... cooking class."
"A cooking class," Rin repeated flatly. "With seven divine beings who should be trying to kill each other."
"Progress, isn't it?" Shirou offered with a weak smile.
Viyrim approached the newcomers, sampling a piece of Gilgamesh's bread as he came. "Greetings, human mage and heroic spirit. You're just in time for breakfast. Divine breakfast, prepared by divine hands. Quite the rare experience for mortals."
"What exactly is happening here?" Rin demanded, her practical nature requiring explanation before participation. "The boundary field around this café has stopped expanding but dramatically deepened. Half the city's ley lines have rerouted themselves overnight. And the Holy Grail War participants are... cooking instead of fighting?"
"Cosmic realignment," Viyrim explained cheerfully. "My vacation has become a more permanent arrangement, necessitating more thorough integration with your reality's spiritual foundation."
"Permanent?" Archer's eyes narrowed. "You're staying? Indefinitely?"
"Indeed," Viyrim confirmed. "I find this reality unexpectedly... stimulating." His gaze drifted meaningfully toward the divine chefs, who had returned to their culinary activities.
Understanding dawned on Rin's face. "You're not serious," she breathed. "All of them? At once?"
"Divine arrangements transcend mortal limitations," Viyrim informed her loftily. "My cosmic nature allows for multiple harmonic resonances simultaneously."
"He's dating all of them," Shirou translated helpfully. "With everyone's knowledge and consent. Divine polyamory to prevent reality-destroying jealousy."
"Thank you, Shirou," Viyrim said dryly. "Such elegant simplification of cosmic complexity."
Rin looked from the God of Destruction to the gathered divine beings and back again, her expression cycling through disbelief, calculation, and finally resigned acceptance. "Well," she concluded practically, "I suppose it's better than them fighting over you and destroying Fuyuki in the process."
"Precisely my reasoning," Viyrim agreed, pleased by her understanding.
Archer, however, appeared troubled. "The Holy Grail War has a purpose," he reminded them. "A wish to be granted. Goals to be achieved. Distracted participants disrupt the intended function."
At this, Gilgamesh turned from her cooking station, fixing Archer with a crimson stare. "You speak of purpose, Counter Guardian? What purpose justifies the repeated bloodshed and betrayal of your precious ritual?"
"The reaching of the Root," Archer replied firmly. "The achievement of miracles. The fulfillment of desires impossible by other means."
Viyrim laughed, the sound rippling through the café like distant thunder. "Such limited thinking," he commented. "Mortals creating elaborate rituals to achieve what divine beings can grant with a gesture."
"Meaning?" Rin questioned sharply.
"Meaning," Amaterasu clarified, joining the conversation, "that between us, there is little we cannot accomplish that your 'Holy Grail' promises."
"Divine authority," Scáthach continued, "transcends ritualistic magic, however elaborate."
"We could simply grant your wishes," Arcueid concluded bluntly. "If properly motivated."
A stunned silence followed this casual offer. The implications were staggering—the goals of the Holy Grail War potentially achievable without further bloodshed, without the corruption and monkey's paw consequences that so often accompanied the Grail's fulfillment of wishes.
"You would do that?" Rin asked carefully. "Why?"
"Because fighting over a magical cup seems tedious compared to our current arrangements," Gilgamesh answered with surprising candor. "And because the God of Destruction appears to value this reality's continuation in its current form."
"I do indeed," Viyrim confirmed, slipping an arm around Gilgamesh's waist in a casual display of affection that would have been unthinkable days earlier. "My divine companions have agreed to a temporary suspension of hostilities, at minimum. Perhaps a more permanent resolution, depending on how our... arrangements... develop."
The casual possessiveness of his gesture triggered immediate reactions from the other divine beings. Artoria appeared at his other side with knightly swiftness, while Amaterasu materialized behind him, her divine light enveloping him like a halo. Not to be outdone, Alter manifested her darkness around his feet, Arcueid pressed against his shoulder, Rider appeared at his flank, and Scáthach completed the divine encirclement.
The result was Viyrim literally surrounded by divine women, each maintaining contact while shooting warning glances at their companions—cooperation with boundaries clearly still being established.
"I see the arrangement remains a work in progress," Rin observed with remarkable composure given the cosmic display before her.
"Indeed," Viyrim agreed, somehow managing to appear both overwhelmed and delighted by his predicament. "Divine harmony requires... adjustment periods."
"And personal space negotiations," Vados added helpfully from nearby.
The tense moment dissolved into something approaching humor as the divine beings gradually disentangled themselves from Viyrim, each maintaining dignity while clearly marking their respective territories in subtle ways.
"Perhaps," Artoria suggested with practical grace, "we should return to our cooking. The preparations will suffer from neglect."
This sensible suggestion provided the needed diversion, allowing the divine chefs to resume their culinary activities with renewed focus—though each maintained heightened awareness of their companions' positions relative to Viyrim.
As the morning progressed into full breakfast service, the café settled into a new routine—divine beings serving dishes of their own creation to an appreciative God of Destruction, who offered praise and critique with cosmic authority. Regular patrons began to arrive, including several Holy Grail War participants who had heard rumors of the unprecedented gathering.
Illyasviel von Einzbern entered with Berserker looming protectively behind her, her red eyes widening at the divine assembly. "So it's true," she breathed. "You've tamed them all."
"Not tamed," Viyrim corrected gently. "Harmonized with. Divine beings cannot be tamed, little homunculus, only appreciated for their unique qualities."
Illya's gaze swept the café, taking in Gilgamesh serving ancient delicacies without a trace of her usual disdain, Artoria and Alter working in reluctant cooperation, and the other divine entities engaged in similarly domestic activities.
"Impressive nonetheless," she concluded. "Perhaps there's room at your table for additional arrangements?"
Berserker growled protectively behind her, but Illya merely smiled—a child's expression overplaying calculated innocence.
"The homunculus has ambition," Gilgamesh noted with something approaching approval. "Though her guardian requires significant refinement."
"All are welcome at Destruction's Table," Viyrim declared magnanimously. "Though I recommend sampling the cuisine before proposing cosmic arrangements. Compatibility begins with shared appreciation of life's pleasures."
And so another potential participant joined the expanding circle around Viyrim, though Illya's interest appeared more calculating than genuine. She observed the divine dynamics with analytical precision, clearly assessing the potential advantages of alliance with this cosmic powerhouse and his divine companions.
By midday, the café had become the de facto neutral ground for the entire Holy Grail War—participants gathering to sample divine cuisine while cautiously discussing alternatives to their traditional conflict. Viyrim presided over this unprecedented summit with surprising diplomatic skill for a God of Destruction, encouraged by his divine companions who each found reasons to prefer peaceful resolution over resumed hostilities.
"A cosmic dating service that ends magical wars," Shirou marveled to Vados as they observed from the kitchen. "Not what I expected when I stumbled in here that first day."
"The universe works in mysterious ways," Vados replied with philosophical serenity. "Though Lord Viyrim's methods have always been... unconventional."
"Is this how he usually resolves conflicts? Romantic connections with multiple divine beings simultaneously?"
"Good heavens, no," Vados laughed softly. "Typically, he destroys anything that annoys him and naps through the resulting cosmic readjustments. This... diplomacy... is entirely unprecedented in his existence."
Shirou considered this with appropriate seriousness. "So we're witnessing the reformation of a God of Destruction through the power of love and good food?"
"A simplification," Vados noted, "but not entirely inaccurate."
As they watched, Viyrim navigated the complex currents of divine attention with increasing skill—offering each companion appropriate acknowledgment while maintaining the delicate balance of the group dynamic. He had somehow transformed from cosmic destroyer to divine diplomat almost overnight, adapting to his new role with surprising aptitude.
"He's actually good at this," Shirou observed with growing respect. "Managing all those divine egos without triggering universal destruction."
"Lord Viyrim contains multitudes," Vados replied enigmatically. "As do we all."
The afternoon brought new developments as word of the divine gathering spread beyond Fuyuki's boundaries. Supernatural entities from across Japan began to arrive, drawn by the unprecedented concentration of divine power. The café expanded accordingly, its dimensional properties flexing to accommodate the growing assembly.
Among these new arrivals came a woman of extraordinary beauty with flowing purple hair and an aura of cherry blossoms. She moved with imperial grace, her very presence causing reality to bend slightly around her.
"Tamamo-no-Mae," Amaterasu acknowledged, her divine light flickering in recognition of her aspect. "My fox manifestation graces us with her presence."
The fox goddess bowed with perfect courtesy, though her golden eyes assessed the gathering with calculated interest. "Divine Mother," she greeted Amaterasu. "Your presence here is... unexpected. As is this gathering of powers that should, by all cosmic laws, be in conflict rather than harmony."
Her gaze turned to Viyrim, studying him with divine perception that penetrated deeper than physical appearance. "Ah," she said finally, understanding dawning. "The catalyst for this unprecedented alignment. You are not of our reality."
"I am Viyrim," he introduced himself with a slight bow that matched her own in perfect courtesy. "God of Destruction, currently on extended vacation in your fascinating reality cluster."
"Extended vacation," Tamamo repeated thoughtfully. "With my divine progenitor and an assemblage of the most powerful entities in this realm. How... convenient."
"Suspicious fox," Amaterasu chided gently. "Always seeking hidden motives."
"It is my nature," Tamamo replied without apology. "As deception was once yours."
A tense moment passed between aspect and origin, divine complexities rippling visibly in the air between them. Then, surprisingly, Amaterasu laughed—a sound like sunlight breaking through clouds.
"True enough," the sun goddess acknowledged. "Though our arrangement here is remarkably straightforward for all its cosmic implications."
"Enlighten me," Tamamo requested, taking the seat that materialized beside her as if expecting it.
As Amaterasu explained the divine arrangement that had developed around Viyrim, Tamamo's expression shifted from skepticism to surprise to thoughtful consideration. By the time the explanation concluded, she was studying the God of Destruction with new interest.
"A divine consort with multiple connections," she summarized. "Maintaining harmonic balance between powers that would typically annihilate each other through competition. Fascinating."
"It's working surprisingly well," Viyrim admitted. "Though still in its early development stages."
"And you find this preferable to your usual destructive activities?" Tamamo inquired, her fox nature evident in her probing curiosity.
"Novelty has its own appeal," Viyrim replied diplomatically. "Even for cosmic entities."
Tamamo's smile revealed slightly pointed canines. "Indeed it does. Perhaps there is room for additional novel experiences in your arrangement?"
And just like that, another divine entity entered the expanding circle around Viyrim, much to Amaterasu's visible displeasure. The sun goddess moved closer to Viyrim, her light intensifying in what was clearly a territorial display toward her own aspect.
"Fascinating," Vados murmured from her observation point. "Even aspects of the same divine entity develop competitive dynamics in this context."
The café's reality strained slightly under the added divine presence, dimensional parameters adjusting to accommodate the fox goddess's considerable power. Viyrim found himself once again at the center of divine attention, now expanded to include eight extraordinary beings—each powerful enough to reshape reality in their own way, each now focused on him with varying degrees of interest, affection, and possessiveness.
"This could get complicated," he muttered to himself as Tamamo and Amaterasu engaged in what appeared to be a passive-aggressive competition over who could serve him tea with more divine grace.
"Could get?" Vados replied with gentle mockery. "I believe, my lord, we passed 'complicated' several divine entities ago. We are now firmly in the realm of 'cosmic unprecedented.'"
Viyrim could only nod in rueful agreement as he accepted tea from both goddesses simultaneously, careful to show equal appreciation for each offering. The God of Destruction, who had ended countless civilizations without a second thought, now found himself applying cosmic power to diplomatic etiquette—perhaps the most unexpected development in his long existence.
And Destruction's Table continued to evolve, a nexus of divine energy and unexpected connections in a reality that had never anticipated hosting such cosmic complexity. The Holy Grail War faded into secondary importance as new possibilities emerged—a divine council forming around the most unlikely focal point: a God of Destruction who had come seeking merely lunch and found, instead, reasons to create rather than consume.
The universe, as always, adjusted accordingly—cosmic balance maintained through the strangest of means: divine harmony forged in a café where gods came to dine and stayed for The universe, as always, adjusted accordingly—cosmic balance maintained through the strangest of means: divine harmony forged in a café where gods came to dine and stayed for love.
## Chapter 13: Trial by Chaos
The morning sun filtered through the café's impossibly perfect windows, casting golden light across the expanded interior. Over the past week, Destruction's Table had settled into something approaching a routine—if anything involving multiple divine entities could be called routine.
Viyrim lounged at his customary table, blindfold in place, enjoying a breakfast created by the combined efforts of his divine companions. Each had contributed an element representing their essence: Gilgamesh's ancient grains formed the base, Artoria's perfectly balanced spices provided depth, Alter's darkness manifested as rich coffee alongside, Amaterasu's solar touch ensured perfect cooking temperature, Arcueid's lunar influence added subtle complexity, Rider's Mediterranean influences provided unexpected harmony, Scáthach's immortal wisdom guided the presentation, and Tamamo's foxfire had seared the final creation to perfection.
"Cosmic harmony in edible form," Viyrim praised, savoring another bite. "You're learning to work together remarkably well."
"Necessity breeds cooperation," Scáthach observed from his right, where she sat with immortal grace. "Even among beings who would naturally oppose each other."
"Though not without ongoing adjustments," Amaterasu added with a pointed glance at Tamamo, who had positioned herself provocatively close to Viyrim's left side.
The fox goddess merely smiled, her nine tails swishing with deliberate sensuousness. "Aspects naturally seek closer alignment with compatible energies," she replied innocently. "It's merely spiritual physics."
"It's blatant provocation," Gilgamesh corrected from her position at the head of the table opposite Viyrim. Her crimson eyes narrowed slightly. "Remember our agreement about personal space, fox."
"Six inches minimum," Tamamo recited with mock seriousness, shifting exactly six inches away—and not a millimeter more.
Viyrim hid a smile behind his cup. The ongoing negotiations between his divine companions provided endless entertainment, their ancient powers and personalities creating complex dynamics that constantly evolved. What had begun as barely contained hostility had gradually transformed into something approaching functional cooperation, though with competitive undercurrents that flared regularly.
Vados approached the table, her professional demeanor unruffled despite the crackling divine energies surrounding her. "My lord, the daily petitioners have begun to arrive. Shall I admit them according to the established schedule?"
"Petitioners?" Viyrim questioned, setting down his cup. "What petitioners?"
"The individuals seeking divine intervention, cosmic guidance, or supernatural assistance," Vados explained. "Word of your divine council has spread beyond Fuyuki. Those with supernatural awareness have begun making pilgrimages to present their cases."
"Divine council?" Viyrim looked genuinely puzzled. "When did we become a divine council?"
"Approximately three days ago," Artoria supplied helpfully. "When you resolved the territorial dispute between the mountain spirits and river kami."
"And established new boundaries for the yokai clans," Alter added.
"And granted that monk's request for enlightenment," Arcueid continued.
"And blessed the local shrine with protection against malevolent entities," Rider concluded.
Viyrim blinked behind his blindfold. "I did all that?"
"We did all that," Gilgamesh corrected with regal precision. "As representatives of the newly formed Divine Nexus of Fuyuki."
"Which apparently now accepts appointments on Tuesdays and Thursdays," Tamamo added with evident amusement.
Viyrim turned to Vados. "Did you know about this?"
"I may have assisted with organizing the scheduling system," his attendant admitted serenely. "Divine intervention functions more efficiently with proper administrative support."
The God of Destruction looked momentarily flummoxed—an expression rarely seen on cosmic entities capable of unmaking reality with a thought. "So I—we—have accidentally established a functioning divine council that now accepts petitions from mortals and supernatural entities alike?"
"An accurate summary," Scáthach confirmed. "Though 'accidentally' perhaps understates the natural gravitational effect of concentrated divine power. Cosmic forces, like nature, abhor a vacuum. This reality lacked a unified divine authority structure, so one formed around the available concentration of power."
"Meaning us," Viyrim concluded.
"Meaning you," Gilgamesh corrected again. "With our collaborative support."
This was a significant concession from the King of Heroes, acknowledging Viyrim's central position in their unusual arrangement—something her pride would have rejected outright just weeks earlier. The other divine beings nodded in agreement, having reached similar acceptance of the cosmic hierarchy that had naturally developed.
"Very well," Viyrim sighed, recognizing the futility of resistance. "Admit the first petitioner, Vados. Let's see what divine governance entails besides excellent breakfasts."
The day progressed with a procession of increasingly strange supplicants approaching the divine council for assistance. A tengu tribe seeking arbitration in a territorial dispute with local wind spirits. A displaced water dragon requesting sanctuary after its lake was drained for a human development project. Three kodama tree spirits whose forest was threatened by supernatural corruption. A minor kami whose shrine had been neglected for generations, its power waning dangerously.
Viyrim handled each case with surprising wisdom for a being previously dedicated to destruction, drawing on his companions' knowledge of the local spiritual ecosystem where his own expertise faltered. Gilgamesh provided historical context, Artoria offered balanced judgment, Alter contributed necessary pragmatism, Amaterasu supplied divine precedent, Arcueid added predator-prey balance considerations, Rider contributed insights on spiritual evolution, Scáthach provided immortal perspective, and Tamamo translated cultural nuances.
Together, they functioned with remarkable effectiveness—a divine administration addressing supernatural concerns with cosmic efficiency.
"This is not how I envisioned spending my vacation," Viyrim commented during a brief lull between petitioners. "Cosmic bureaucracy was definitely not on my agenda."
"Yet you excel at it," Scáthach observed. "Perhaps because destruction requires understanding of what exists before unmaking it. That same comprehension serves creation and governance equally well."
"Balance in all things," Amaterasu agreed, her divine light pulsing gently with approval. "Even gods must embrace duality."
The philosophical discussion was interrupted as the café door opened dramatically. A wave of palpable power preceded the newest arrival—a woman of breathtaking beauty with silver hair that shifted like mercury and eyes that contained the cold emptiness of space between stars. Her aura carried the unmistakable signature of ancient divinity, predating even the oldest beings present.
"Altera," Artoria identified, her hand instinctively moving toward where Excalibur would materialize if summoned. "The White Titan."
"Sefar," Tamamo hissed, her tails bristling with instinctive fear. "Destroyer of Gods."
The newcomer surveyed the divine gathering with cool assessment, her expression betraying nothing of her intentions. "So," she said finally, her voice resonating with cosmic harmonics, "this is where my pudding went."
Viyrim straightened in his seat, cosmic recognition flashing across his features. "Ah! You're the original owner of that excellent mana-infused pudding Vados acquired during our first week here."
"Acquired," Sefar repeated flatly. "An interesting euphemism for theft."
An oppressive silence fell over the café as divine energies responded to the rising tension. The White Titan's power was palpable—ancient, absolute, and inherently antagonistic to divine entities. She had earned her title as Destroyer of Gods through countless cosmic conflicts across multiple timelines.
Yet Viyrim appeared utterly unconcerned. He rose from his seat with casual grace, approaching Sefar with a welcoming smile. "The pudding was exquisite," he complimented sincerely. "Perfect consistency, remarkable flavor complexity, and an energy infusion technique I've rarely encountered. You have remarkable culinary skills for a cosmic destroyer."
Sefar blinked, clearly unprepared for this response. "You... enjoyed it?"
"Immensely," Viyrim confirmed. "In fact, I told Vados that if you ever came looking for it, you should join us for dessert. Though I believe my exact words involved fighting naked, which in retrospect was perhaps overly provocative."
Behind him, several of his divine companions made choked sounds of surprise or indignation. Gilgamesh's expression darkened dangerously, while Amaterasu's light flared with solar jealousy.
Sefar studied Viyrim with new interest, her cosmic senses clearly detecting something unexpected. "You are not of this reality," she stated.
"So I keep hearing," Viyrim agreed cheerfully. "Viyrim, God of Destruction, currently on extended vacation. And you are Sefar, the White Titan, Destroyer of Gods, and apparently master pudding chef."
Despite herself, the corner of Sefar's mouth twitched slightly. "An unusual introduction. Most divine entities cower or attack when they recognize me."
"Boring responses," Viyrim dismissed with a casual wave. "Besides, we're practically colleagues. Destruction of gods, destruction of worlds—similar professional spheres, different scales of operation."
This unexpected approach seemed to disarm Sefar's initial hostility. She glanced past him at the gathered divine beings, noting their protective stances and wary expressions. "You've assembled quite the collection of divine entities," she observed. "For what purpose?"
"Not a collection," Viyrim corrected automatically. "A collaborative arrangement of mutual appreciation and shared interests."
"He means we're all dating him," Tamamo translated bluntly. "Simultaneously and with mutual awareness."
Sefar's eyes widened fractionally—the cosmic equivalent of jaw-dropping shock. "You... what?"
"It's a complex divine arrangement," Viyrim explained, shooting Tamamo a quelling look. "Evolved naturally from shared culinary appreciation."
"From pudding theft to divine harem," Sefar summarized with unexpected dry humor. "An unusual progression even by cosmic standards."
"Harem is reductive terminology," Gilgamesh interjected, rising regally from her seat. "We are divine consorts in a harmonically balanced collective arrangement."
"Same difference," Sefar replied dismissively, returning her attention to Viyrim. "You intrigue me, God of Destruction from beyond. Few beings would address me so directly, fewer still would admit to stealing from me, and none in my experience would propose I join their... arrangement."
"Did I propose that?" Viyrim asked innocently.
"You will," Sefar stated with cosmic certainty.
The temperature in the café dropped several degrees as the existing divine consorts processed this prediction. Territorial energy crackled visibly in the air, reality straining under the weight of divine jealousy barely contained.
Viyrim glanced back at his companions, noting their reactions with a mixture of alarm and—buried deeper—intrigue. He returned his attention to Sefar, choosing his words carefully.
"Our current arrangements are... still stabilizing," he explained diplomatically. "Adding new elements requires careful consideration and unanimous agreement."
"Particularly elements historically dedicated to destroying divine entities," Artoria added pointedly.
Sefar smiled—a cold expression that somehow carried genuine amusement. "Prudent," she acknowledged. "Though limitations can evolve, as evidently demonstrated by your existing... arrangements."
Before the tense standoff could develop further, reality rippled dramatically around them. The café's dimensional foundations shuddered, walls momentarily becoming transparent as cosmic forces pressed against its boundaries.
"What was that?" Arcueid demanded, her predatory senses on high alert.
Vados materialized beside Viyrim, her normally serene expression tightened with concern. "We're under attack, my lord. Something is attempting to breach the café's dimensional barriers."
Another ripple, stronger than the first, caused the floor to undulate beneath them. The windows shattered and immediately reformed, reality rewriting itself to maintain the café's integrity.
"Impossible," Viyrim frowned, cosmic power gathering around him. "Nothing in this reality should have sufficient power to threaten a structure of my creation."
"Unless," Sefar suggested with sudden insight, "it comes from outside this reality. Like you."
A third ripple, violent enough to cause even divine beings to stagger, tore through the café. The air split open like fabric ripping, revealing a swirling vortex of cosmic energy beyond. Through this dimensional breach stepped a figure radiating such immense power that reality itself bent away from his presence.
"Viyrim," the newcomer announced, his voice reverberating with universe-ending authority. "Your vacation is over. The Council of Destruction requires your immediate return."
The God of Destruction paled visibly, an unprecedented reaction from a being who had faced cosmic horrors without flinching. "Beerus," he breathed. "What are you doing here?"
The feline-featured God of Destruction from Universe 7 surveyed the café with evident distaste, his golden eyes lingering on the assembled divine entities with dismissive assessment.
"Playing with local deities?" he sneered. "How disappointingly pedestrian. Your duties await, Viyrim. Multiple universe clusters require destruction to maintain cosmic balance."
"I'm on vacation," Viyrim replied, his initial shock hardening into resistance. "Officially sanctioned by the Grand Minister himself."
"Vacation, yes. Permanent relocation, no." Beerus's tail lashed impatiently. "Certainly not to establish... whatever this is." He gestured contemptuously at the divine gathering around Viyrim.
Gilgamesh rose to her full height, golden portals shimmering into existence around her. "You speak to the King of Heroes with disrespect," she warned, divine authority radiating from her perfect form.
"How adorable," Beerus commented dryly. "The local god thinks she's significant."
Before Gilgamesh could respond with appropriate cosmic violence, Viyrim stepped between them. "My affairs here are my own concern, Beerus. I've violated no cosmic protocols."
"Your 'affairs' become Grand Minister Whis's concern when they result in unauthorized reality stabilization," Beerus countered. "This timeline was scheduled for potential erasure. Instead, you've been reinforcing it."
Viyrim's companions exchanged alarmed glances at this casual revelation. Their reality had been marked for destruction? And Viyrim had—knowingly or unknowingly—preserved it?
"Things change," Viyrim stated firmly. "Cosmic schedules can be adjusted."
"Not without proper authorization," Beerus insisted. "Which you failed to request. Hence, my unwelcome errand to retrieve you."
The tension between the two Gods of Destruction crackled with universe-threatening potential. Beerus might technically outrank Viyrim in the cosmic hierarchy, but Viyrim's power was nothing to dismiss—especially with eight divine companions now moving to support him.
Unexpectedly, it was Sefar who broke the standoff. The White Titan stepped forward, positioning herself beside Viyrim rather than against him. "Your jurisdiction is questionable, cat god," she stated coldly. "This reality has its own destroyers. Your presence is redundant."
Beerus's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You address Lord Beerus, God of Destruction for Universe 7, mortal."
"I address an interloper," Sefar corrected, her ancient power unfurling like wings of anti-creation around her. "And I am far from mortal. I am Sefar, the White Titan, Destroyer of Gods."
"How interesting," Beerus purred, his casual demeanor belied by the deadly focus in his golden eyes. "A local god-killer. Perhaps a demonstration of relative capabilities is in order before I collect my wayward colleague."
Energy gathered around his outstretched hand—pure destruction in concentrated form, capable of unmaking divine entities with a touch. Sefar's own power responded in kind, anti-creation forces coalescing around her with terrible purpose.
Viyrim looked from one cosmic destroyer to the other, recognizing the catastrophic implications of their conflict. Such a battle would not merely destroy the café or Fuyuki—it would potentially shatter this entire reality cluster.
"Enough!" he commanded, his own destructive energy flaring dramatically. The blindfold disintegrated as his cosmic eyes blazed fully revealed—containing universes dying and being born in endless cycles. "Beerus, you forget yourself. Even you cannot casually threaten a reality under my protection without consequences."
The feline God of Destruction hesitated, reassessing the situation with narrowed eyes. "Protection? You've gone native, Viyrim. Attached yourself to local divine entities. Compromised your neutrality."
"I've exercised my cosmic prerogative," Viyrim countered. "As is my right."
"Rights come with responsibilities," Beerus reminded him sternly. "The cosmic balance—"
"—can be maintained through means other than destruction," Viyrim interrupted. "That's what the Council has failed to understand. Creation and preservation have equal value in the universal equation."
His divine companions watched this exchange with growing comprehension, pieces of Viyrim's cosmic background falling into place. He wasn't merely a random God of Destruction on vacation—he was part of some greater organization, a cosmic bureaucracy that managed universal balance through calculated annihilation.
"Philosophy was never your strength, Viyrim," Beerus sighed. "Very well. I'll report your... situation... to the Grand Minister. But this conversation isn't finished. The Council will want a formal explanation for your unprecedented actions here."
"They'll have it," Viyrim promised. "In due time. For now, my vacation continues."
Beerus glared at the assembled divine entities, his tail lashing with barely contained irritation. "Enjoy your... local diversions... while you can. Cosmic duty isn't optional, regardless of how many divine concubines you collect."
With that parting shot, he stepped backward into the dimensional rift, which sealed itself with a reality-bending snap. The café settled back into normal space, its boundaries reinforcing with Viyrim's concentrated focus.
An uneasy silence filled the establishment as his divine companions processed this cosmic revelation. Finally, Gilgamesh spoke for all of them: "You have significant explaining to do, God of Destruction."
Viyrim sighed, replacing his blindfold with a gesture. "I suppose I do," he agreed. "Though I had hoped to avoid cosmic politics during my vacation."
"Your 'vacation' has evolved considerably beyond its initial parameters," Scáthach observed mildly. "As have we all."
"True enough," Viyrim conceded. He looked around at the gathered divine entities—each extraordinary in their own way, each now connected to him through their unusual arrangement, and now all demanding explanations he'd hoped to avoid providing.
"Perhaps we should adjourn to more private quarters," he suggested. "This conversation requires significant cosmic context."
"And potentially contingency planning," Sefar added unexpectedly. When the others looked at her in surprise, she shrugged slightly. "If your presence is preserving this reality from cosmic erasure, your companions should understand the full implications, including what happens if you leave."
"You seem remarkably concerned about our welfare for someone who destroys gods professionally," Tamamo noted suspiciously.
"Professional respect between cosmic destroyers," Sefar replied with unexpected humor. "Besides, Viyrim owes me pudding. He can't repay that debt if this reality ceases to exist."
Despite the gravity of the situation, Viyrim found himself smiling at the White Titan's practical perspective. "Indeed I do," he agreed. "Vados, prepare the cosmic conference chamber, would you? And bring refreshments suitable for existential discussions."
"Of course, my lord," his attendant acknowledged. "The usual apocalypse cookies and end-of-reality tea?"
"Perfect," Viyrim nodded. He gestured for his divine companions to follow him toward the inner door that led to his private domains. "Ladies, shall we discuss the potential erasure of your existence over properly prepared refreshments?"
"Your approach to cosmic crisis management is refreshingly civilized," Scáthach commented as they proceeded toward the dimensional doorway.
"I've found most universal threats are easier to address after suitable refreshments," Viyrim replied philosophically. "Even apocalypses improve with proper pastries."
And so the divine council adjourned to discuss matters of cosmic significance, their unusual arrangement now complicated by interdimensional politics and the revelation that their entire reality's continued existence might depend on Viyrim's continued presence—and defiance of his own cosmic authorities.
Just another day at Destruction's Table, where gods came for meals and stayed for love, even when that love potentially threatened multiple universe clusters with cosmic imbalance.
---
## Chapter 14: Bonds Beyond Reality
Viyrim's cosmic conference chamber defied conventional description. It existed simultaneously within and beyond normal reality, its boundaries shifting between dimensional states with liquid ease. Stars wheeled overhead in galactic patterns, while the "floor" consisted of solidified void that somehow supported its occupants while reminding them of the cosmic emptiness beneath their feet.
Around a central table formed from what appeared to be crystallized time sat the assembled divine entities, each processing Viyrim's explanation of his true cosmic position with varying degrees of comprehension and concern.
"So," Gilgamesh summarized, tapping perfectly manicured nails against the time-crystal surface, "you are one of multiple Gods of Destruction, each assigned to specific universe clusters, responsible for maintaining cosmic balance through calculated annihilation."
"Correct," Viyrim confirmed. "Though the bureaucratic structure is significantly more complex than that simplification suggests."
"And our reality—our entire multiverse—was designated for potential erasure due to excessive timeline proliferation," Artoria continued, her expression troubled.
"A routine cosmic housekeeping operation," Viyrim nodded. "Nothing personal, just universal maintenance."
"Yet you've been actively stabilizing our reality instead," Arcueid noted. "Against your organization's protocols."
"An unintended consequence of my extended presence," Viyrim explained. "Divine energy naturally reinforces surrounding reality. The longer I remained, the more this timeline stabilized."
"And your... connections... with us accelerated the process," Scáthach deduced. "Divine harmonization across multiple pantheons created a cosmic anchor point."
"Precisely." Viyrim looked impressed by her understanding. "Each of you represents a fundamental aspect of this reality's divine structure. Our... arrangement... has been creating an interdimensional stability matrix more powerful than I anticipated."
Amaterasu's light pulsed thoughtfully. "So our romantic entanglement has cosmic significance beyond the personal."
"The ultimate power of love," Tamamo quipped, though her expression remained serious despite the light comment. "Literally saving our world through divine dating."
"A crude but not entirely inaccurate assessment," Viyrim acknowledged with a small smile.
Sefar, who had joined their conference despite not being officially part of their arrangement, studied the temporal displays hovering above the table's surface. "The stabilization pattern is impressive," she observed. "Near-permanent reality anchoring. Your cosmic superiors won't be pleased."
"Their displeasure is a minor concern compared to the implications," Viyrim replied. "What began as a casual vacation has evolved into something with multiversal significance."
"You've gone native," Alter stated flatly. "Developed attachment to a reality you were meant to view objectively."
Viyrim didn't deny the accusation. "I've discovered value where only statistical cosmic data existed before. This reality cluster has unique properties worth preserving."
"Us, you mean," Rider clarified with quiet insight.
"Among other factors," Viyrim confirmed, though his gaze sweeping across his divine companions conveyed the significance they held in his cosmic assessment.
Gilgamesh leaned forward, crimson eyes focused with royal intensity. "So what happens now? Will this Council of Destruction attempt to recall you forcibly? Or worse, proceed with their erasure plans despite your intervention?"
"Both are possible," Viyrim admitted. "Though neither is imminent. Cosmic bureaucracy moves slowly, even by immortal standards. We have time to consider options."
"What options exist against entities capable of erasing entire reality clusters?" Arcueid questioned pragmatically.
Unexpectedly, it was Vados who answered. The attendant had remained quietly attentive throughout the discussion, but now stepped forward with uncharacteristic assertiveness.
"There are precedents," she informed them. "Rare but documented cases of reality clusters receiving protected status due to unique properties or cosmic significance."
All eyes turned to her in surprise. "You never mentioned this possibility before," Viyrim noted with mild accusation.
"You never asked, my lord," Vados replied serenely. "Besides, such designations typically require significant justification and multiple cosmic signatures of authority."
"Which we lack," Scáthach concluded.
"Not necessarily," Vados countered. "Lord Viyrim's status grants him proposal rights. With sufficient supporting evidence of this reality's unique value, a case could be presented to the Grand Minister."
Hope flickered across several divine faces at this revelation. Viyrim, however, looked troubled.
"The supporting evidence would need to be extraordinary," he cautioned. "Merely appreciating local cuisine and companionship wouldn't sway cosmic authorities."
"Then we provide extraordinary evidence," Gilgamesh declared with typical imperious confidence. "We demonstrate that this reality contains elements worth preserving by any standard, cosmic or otherwise."
"Easier stated than implemented," Viyrim replied. "What could possibly—"
He was interrupted by a sudden ripple of energy passing through the conference chamber. Unlike Beerus's hostile intrusion earlier, this disturbance felt different—almost like reality politely knocking before entering.
A shimmering portal opened at the far end of the chamber, glowing with gentle golden light rather than raw cosmic power. Through it stepped a woman of impossible beauty and presence—her form shifting subtly between appearances as if reality couldn't quite decide how to perceive her. One moment she appeared as a young maiden, the next a mature woman, then briefly an elderly sage, all aspects of the same fundamental essence.
"Alaya," Artoria identified with surprise. "The Counter Force itself."
The manifestation of humanity's collective unconscious surveyed the divine gathering with timeless eyes. "This conversation has cosmic significance," she stated, her voice somehow simultaneously a single tone and a chorus of millions. "The future of this reality cluster is being debated without representation from its central consciousness."
Viyrim rose from his seat, offering a respectful bow that surprised his companions. "Collective manifestation," he acknowledged formally. "Your presence honors us, though it was not requested."
"Some invitations transcend formal protocols," Alaya replied with ancient humor. "Particularly when existence itself hangs in the balance."
She approached the table, a seat materializing for her opposite Viyrim. "I bring perspective your divine council lacks—the voice of humanity and all parallel development streams across this reality cluster."
"The mortals' representative," Gilgamesh observed with a slight curl of her lip. "How quaint."
"More than mortal, less than divine," Alaya corrected. "The bridge between temporary and eternal. The evolutionary consciousness that gives this reality its unique flavor."
Viyrim gestured for her to join them. "Your perspective is valuable, certainly. Though I'm surprised by your manifestation. Collective consciousnesses rarely take physical form for mere conversations."
"This is hardly a mere conversation," Alaya countered as she settled into her seat. "And circumstances are exceptional. The God of Destruction from beyond falls in love—not with one divine entity but with an entire divine ecosystem. Meanwhile, the cosmic bureaucracy contemplates erasing our reality cluster despite its demonstrable unique properties. Such confluence of events justifies direct intervention."
Her use of the word "love" sent a ripple of reaction around the table. Viyrim himself appeared momentarily disconcerted, though he recovered quickly.
"Love is a simplistic term for complex cosmic resonance patterns," he objected weakly.
"Is it?" Alaya's ageless eyes saw through him with uncomfortable clarity. "Then why risk cosmic censure to preserve this reality? Why establish harmonizing connections with multiple divine entities? Why transform Destruction's Table from temporary diversion to permanent nexus?"
Before Viyrim could formulate a suitably cosmic non-answer, Sefar spoke unexpectedly. "She's right," the White Titan stated, drawing surprised looks from everyone present. "I've observed countless divine entities across millennia. None establish such connections without fundamental emotional investment—what mortals would indeed call love."
"The Destroyer of Gods lecturing on love," Tamamo marveled. "Now I've seen everything."
"Understanding what one destroys doesn't preclude the understanding," Sefar replied simply.
Viyrim looked distinctly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken. Cosmic entities rarely discussed emotional attachments so directly, particularly beings dedicated to destruction rather than creation.
Sensing his discomfort, Alaya redirected slightly. "Regardless of terminology, the connections established here have cosmic significance beyond personal relationships. They represent a unique harmonic pattern with multiversal implications."
"Meaning?" Arcueid prompted.
"Meaning," Alaya explained, "that this reality cluster has developed something unprecedented—a divine harmonic convergence that spans pantheons, transcends traditional boundaries, and creates stability patterns that could inform cosmic understanding across multiple universe clusters."
Vados nodded in agreement. "In cosmic bureaucratic terms, a research opportunity of significant value."
"Exactly," Alaya confirmed. "Our reality isn't merely another statistical entry in the cosmic ledger—it has become a living laboratory for divine harmony that transcends established patterns. This alone justifies preservation status."
Hope rippled through the divine gathering as understanding dawned. They weren't merely fighting for personal survival or continued relationships—they represented something with legitimate cosmic significance that even universal bureaucrats might recognize.