38 Some family time.

(I didn't have much time but here)

"So you're telling me that you can't take over any of the cities your mother and I built?" Ender boomed, turning to his son who was cowering behind his daughter-in-law—who, as usual, was completely invisible (at least to most people).

"Come on, Atum—I taught you better than that," Ender chided, his voice dripping with both amusement and exasperation.

Atum peeked out, eyes darting nervously. "Sorry, Dad, but I don't think I'm cut out for ruling the Nether, Mother's Grove, or even Celestia. I mean, who in their right mind would want to lead all those folks when they could have you instead?" He hesitated, then added in a sheepish tone, "Also, I accidentally became God-King of Celestial Heliopolis..."

Ender's eyes widened in disbelief. "Wait—God-King? You, God-King?!" he repeated, completely dumbfounded as he stared at his son. The sight caused his invisible daughter-in-law to scurry even further behind him.

"Yeah? God-King?" Atum echoed his voice a mix of confusion and sudden realization. Then, slapping his forehead, he murmured, "Oh, my Dad... I really have become a God-King."

Ender ran a hand through his hair, a wry grin tugging at his lips. "Honestly, I was hoping to dump a little of my workload on you. But, by the looks of it, you've already got more than enough on your plate!" He leaned back with a sigh, both amused and exasperated at the precarious state of divine bureaucracy.

Atum's reluctant resignation. "Trust me, Dad, I barely have time to breathe as it is. Ruling Celestial Heliopolis is a nightmare—I have meetings that last decades and responsibilities that make my head spin. I'm not exactly eager to add more cities to my resume."

At that moment, Amaunet, his shy goddess lover known for her gentle support, stepped forward. Her soft voice carried a note of reassurance as she spoke up. "I w-will also help you, Atum," She offered a timid smile, clearly trying to bolster his spirits.

Ender shook his head. "Look, if I wanted to run a whole pantheon, I would be doing it. You, on the other hand, have already become a God-King by accident. And while that sounds impressive on paper, I'm sure you know it comes with more headaches than you can imagine."

Atum let out a long, exhausted sigh, rubbing his temples. "Yeah, I know. I would rather not see the sunrise if it means facing another council meeting that lasts an eternity."

Ender nodded, his smirk shifting into something almost fatherly. "That's right. Let's stick to what we are good at. You keep ruling Celestial Heliopolis, and I'll manage the rest of the realms. And maybe—just maybe—one day, you'll even get used to not being overwhelmed by all this divine paperwork."

And then I'll dump all my work onto you, he thought but wisely chose not to say out loud.

The father-son shared a moment of laughter, the burdens of divine rule momentarily set aside.

Then, as if struck by a sudden thought, Ender slapped his forehead. "Oh, right! Atum, you should go visit your little sister. Agni's been burning to meet her Big Sun brother," he said, grinning at his own pun.

Atum perked up, a smile breaking through. "I was planning to. Is she still with Aunt Ignia?"

Ender nodded. "Yeah, and good luck trying to separate them. Ignia barely lets Agni out of her sight." Then he smirked. "Also, do not call Ignia 'aunt' to her face."

Atum shuddered violently as if reliving a past trauma. "Noted."

Before Ender could enjoy his son's suffering too much, Amaunet let out a small, almost imperceptible squeak.

"A-Atum's father… um…Lady Gaia wants to meet me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ender grinned. "Yeah, no need to be so nervous. Atum's mother isn't scary. Well… most of the time."

Amaunet visibly paled. "D-Do I… pass your test?" she asked hesitantly.

Ender blinked, then let out an amused laugh. "Man, I never thought I would hear someone ask me that. Look, if Atum likes you, I'm not gonna get in the way." He then leaned in conspiratorially. "But if you really want to pass, you might wanna prepare yourself for Atum's mothers."

Atum visibly winced, looking like he would rather face another century-long council meeting than go down that road. "Dad. Please don't bring that up."

Ender just chuckled, giving his son a knowing look. "Oh, I will. Because I love you, son. And because it's fun."

(Brother and Sister)

Atum sighed, rubbing the back of his head as he stared down at the fiery little ball of pure attitude in front of him. Agni, his six-year-old little sister, was pouting—no, seething—arms crossed, her bright red hair practically sparking with tiny embers of frustration.

"Ahem, my cute little sister, my ball of fire," he tried in his most charming tone. "Look, I really wanted to visit when you chased away those Burisons, setting their hair on fire and making them bald—which, by the way, was hilarious—but I was, uh, busy."

Agni's response? A louder, more aggressive pout.

"Hmph!" she huffed, turning her head dramatically away from him.

Atum winced and turned to the only other elder in the room who could help. "Aun—Mother Ignia," he corrected himself quickly. He had once made the mistake of calling her "aunt" and had no desire to relive that particular incident. "Please, tell Agni to talk to me."

But Ignia, the Phoenix Force itself, was just as bad. She crossed her arms, mirroring her daughter, and smirked. "Hmph, isn't it your own fault, little Ra?" she teased. "Who told you to go and become the God-King of some random pantheon when I offered you a place in the White Hot Room?"

Atum deadpanned. "You wanted me to become a Demigorge and eat the Great Old Ones because you didn't want them coming anywhere near your domain."

Ignia looked caught off guard for a second. "Cough, cough, Oh, you remembered that, huh?" She quickly recovered, flipping her long, fiery hair over her shoulder. "Well, it's not just that! I was trying to do you a favor! Do you have any idea how much energy those things have? You would have been so powerful, Atum!"

"I already am," he muttered under his breath.

Ignoring him, Ignia then pulled out her trump card. She turned to her daughter, her voice suddenly sweet. "Agni, my little Phoenix, look! Your brother Atum has brought you the scales of Apophis!"

Agni's head snapped toward Atum so fast that it was a miracle she didn't get whiplash. "Really?!" Her eyes widened in excitement.

Atum sighed in relief. "Yes. Really." He pulled out a set of glistening, dark scales, pulsing with the remnants of cosmic corruption. "I had to fight a giant cosmic snake for these, you know."

Agni gasped, her earlier anger completely forgotten as she snatched the scales out of his hands. "Best. Brother. Ever!" she cheered, holding them up like a treasure.

Atum smirked, finally feeling victorious. But then Ignia patted his shoulder. "See?" she said smugly. "Bribery works wonders even with kids."

Atum just stared at her. "You have no idea how parenting works, do you?"

Ignia blinked. "I'm literally the embodiment of a cosmic firebird, Atum. No, I do not, but I am trying with your Father."

Agni's excitement lasted a grand total of five seconds. She held the shimmering, cosmic-infused scales up like the greatest treasure in the universe… and then her face fell.

"Wait a minute…" she muttered. "What am I supposed to do with these?"

She flipped them over, inspecting them from every angle as if expecting them to do something. But no, they were just really shiny, slightly ominous, and smelled vaguely of space snake.

Atum stifled a laugh as he watched the realization dawn on her face. Ignia, meanwhile, was no help at all, looking equally perplexed.

"Well," Ignia said, tilting her head, "you could use them as decorations? Maybe a blanket? Cosmic snake scales are comfy."

"Mom!" Agni groaned, dragging her hands down her face. "I don't need a stupid blanket! I wanted something cool!"

Atum shed a fake tear, "And here I thought you loved my gift,"

Agni shot him a glare.

Shaking his head, Atum clapped his hands together, and the dark scales between them began to glow. Cosmic energy crackled in the air as the scales twisted, reshaped, and pulsed with life. In mere moments, the form of a tiny snake emerged, its body shimmering with cosmic darkness, speckled with glowing golden runes. Its little tongue flickered out, tasting the air, before it slithered up Atum's arm, tilting its head at him with what could only be described as curiosity.

Agni gasped. "A pet?!"

The tiny snake turned toward her and let out a very tiny hiss, barely above a whisper.

"A COOL pet?!" Agni practically vibrated with excitement.

Atum smirked. "Not just any pet. This little girl has the potential to be as powerful as Apophis one day."

Agni's eyes practically turned into stars. "I'm naming her Tinyphos!" The snake blinked. Ignia squinted. "You do realize she won't stay tiny, right?"

Agni puffed out her chest. "Then she will be Ironyphos when she is big!"

Atum stared at her. "...I respect the commitment."

Tinyphos, meanwhile, curled up in Agni's hands, blinking up at her before flicking her little forked tongue against her nose. Agni giggled. "I love her!"

Atum grinned. "Well, now that that's settled, let's just hope she doesn't get Apophis's personality."

Ignia waved a hand. "Eh, if he does, just bonk him on the head. Works every time."

Atum deadpanned. "That explains a lot about how you deal with things."

Ignia grinned. "It's foolproof."

~~~~

Sorry for the delay did you saved your power stones?

How about we cross 300 this time?