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“Why is this my job?” Karta asked, her eyes widening. “I’m not the god of eggs. Phoegon eggs have nothing to do with the marketplace or potato chips! Actually, I wonder how phoegon-flavored potato chips would taste like.” Her head swiveled towards Pravos. “Do you think anyone would buy it? Depending on the marketing technique, I think it might be a hit: Have you ever eaten a dragon? How about a phoenix? Why not try both today? Buy some phoegon-flavored chips now!”

“I mean….” Pravos scratched her head. “I don’t really eat junk food. It’s a waste of money when all my money can be spent on righting all the wrongs in the lower dimension instead.”

Vremya cleared his throat. “Quit dawdling,” he said and nudged Karta’s leg with his foot. “The time you spend coming up with advertising phrases here is way more time wasted down there. My avatar might be infinitely patient, but he still has things to do.”

Karta snorted and placed her paws on her personal computer. “I still don’t get why I’m the one that has to do it. Pravos is right there, isn’t she? She’s only the god of one domain while I’m the god of two! If we’re splitting things by workload, she’s totally more available than I am.”

“You’re the only animal here,” Vremya said. “Obviously, the job of making those eggs hatch is up to you.”

“I just look like an animal, but I’m still a god!” Karta growled, but despite her complaints, she still worked on Vremya’s request. “Besides, dogs don’t even lay eggs. Pravos could do an equally as good job as I could.”

***

The place was red. The phoegon fetus comfortably absorbed the spiritual energy entering the egg. It floated about in the amniotic fluid, occasionally kicking its little legs and flapping its little wings. It was shaped like a snake, but it had four little claws. Somehow, it bore resemblance to a wiener dog with its elongated body and stubby limbs. Obviously to the outside world, the phoegon swam around inside of its egg, occasionally sipping in the fluid and spitting it out as if it were playing. This was how it lived for the last eighty years, and it was how it would live for the next one hundred and eight years. Except something unexpected happened.

A line of text appeared in the phoegon’s vision, confusing the bejesus out of it. What the hell was that? Although it was still basically a fetus, it had been alive for eighty years. It was practically a grandpa in human years, and never in its life had symbols popped up in its vision. Since the phoegon had no clue how to read, it had no idea what the symbols were trying to convey. As such, the phoegon chalked it up to a trick of the light. The light flickered a few times, putting symbols in its eyes repeatedly, but the phoegon ignored it all, swimming around and around while rotating its torso like a drill. Then, a white sphere appeared in front of it.

The phoegon stopped swimming and examined the sphere. Strange things were happening today—not that the phoegon had any concept of day or night. However, the sphere tempted it. It was small, and it would fit perfectly inside of its mouth. Since it was inside the egg, it couldn’t have been harmful. It swam forward and ate the sphere, swallowing it in one gulp. Its tiny little eyes bulged, and its belly swelled up. It was as if it had eaten a grenade. Its body rapidly expanded, growing larger and larger. The amniotic fluid around it was rapidly sucked in through its nostrils and mouth, and the phoegon couldn’t even let out a scream. This was the most painful thing that had ever happened to it! Soon, there was no more fluid, and the eggshell that had seemed so large just moments ago was now pressing against its body. It had to break out! It had to get free before it was squished to death! With a growl, the phoegon slammed its head against the eggshell.

There was a cracking sound, and a blinding light appeared in its view. There was someone standing over it, an old man with an impassive face. Was that … its mother? The phoegon crawled out of the egg and let out a mewl. To its surprise, there were three other mewling sounds. What the hell? Did its voice echo? The phoegon turned its head and came face to face with three other phoegons! All of them looked like they were struggling to breathe. Had they gone through the same exact experience?

Grandpa Vremya glanced at the four phoegons. Even though he hadn’t studied how to read animal faces yet, he felt like they were slightly traumatized. With but a thought, he shoved the odd feeling away, his gaze landing on the last, unhatched egg. Since all of the phoegons had been born at the same time, it was safe to say the unhatched phoegon egg was unfertilized. Grandpa Vremya pressed his hand against the crystal nest, and it vanished into his interspacial ring along with the unbroken egg and eggshells. The phoegons flapped their wings, barely catching themselves in time to avoid falling into the lava below. With that, his mission was complete. He had asserted dominance over a whole generation of cultivators, and he obtained a great cultivation resource for Azalea to use. There was no reason to stay on this mountain any longer. Grandpa Vremya turned around and walked up three stairs before four sharp things stabbed into his back. He turned his head, and a feathery-yet-scaled thing brushed against his cheek. The four phoegons had attached themselves to his body, mewling at him.

“What?” Grandpa Vremya asked, his brow furrowing. “All of you are grown up now. Scram.”

The phoegons mewled louder in protest.

A dark expression appeared on Grandpa Vremya’s face. “Are the four of you geese? Why did you imprint on the first thing you saw after coming out of the egg? Get off of me.”

The phoegons wrapped themselves around his limbs, digging their little claws into his flesh. It seemed like they could only be removed through force. Grandpa Vremya summoned four battlesuit golems out of his interspacial ring. They grabbed onto one phoegon each, and the phoegons growled while twisting their heads towards the golems. They breathed out black fire that had a golden tint to it. When the flames made contact with the golems, their spiritual formations were burned away, rendering them useless. The battlesuits were damaged as well, some of their parts melted and fused together where they shouldn’t have been.

Grandpa Vremya stored the broken golems away without saying a word. Since the amniotic fluid of a phoegon egg could turn a mortal into a soul-seed cultivator, it only made sense for newborn phoegons to be as strong as soul-seed cultivators as well. “Good job,” he said, his voice changing to a higher pitch. “Well done. That was a test, and all of you passed. Come with me, and all the riches and food in the intergalactic society shall be yours for the taking.”

The phoegons mewled, bobbing their scaled-yet-feathery heads up and down. Usually, a phoegon would be independent upon being born. As they grew within the egg, they would feel more and more stifled, having less space to swim around. The claustrophobic feeling would make them aggressive, belligerent towards the world, making them yearn for freedom. However, these phoegons were nothing like that. They were having the time of their life, peacefully swimming around without any worries before suddenly being thrust headfirst into the cruel, harsh world. As such, why wouldn’t they attach themselves to someone?

Grandpa Vremya searched through his interspatial ring, but he didn’t find any food. As someone who didn’t consume spiritual pills or spiritual herbs or anything at all, really, why would he have food fit for a baby phoegon? The only thing inside of his interspatial ring that was edible was some titan flesh. He took some out, and the phoegons all perked their heads up, staring at the piece of meat. Grandpa Vremya nodded at their reactions and took out three more pieces. With his spiritual energy, he sent the pieces of flesh towards the phoegons’ heads, and they chomped down on them with glee. Grandpa Vremya stroked his beard as he ascended the flight of stairs. If hurting a phoegon would give him immense amounts of bad karma, raising some phoegons would give him immense amounts of good karma, no?

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