It was like the skies clearing after the rain, the dark clouds dispersing, and the sun shining brightly.
Ever since informing Lucifer of his pregnancy in the lower realm, Yahweh had remained in this peculiar state after returning to the Grand Cathedral.
The smile on his face was impossible to hide, his golden eyes radiating warmth, and his fingers constantly caressed the newly added tail ring on his right hand, as if he had obtained some rare treasure. After recording the Creator’s physical condition, the Book of Genesis couldn’t help but assign him an emotional index: Five stars—trapped in the sweet snare of love.
By all appearances, he was beyond saving.
The Book of Genesis poured cold water on the moment. "God, have you considered that once the child is born, Lucifer will inevitably discover your true identity?"
Yahweh’s smile froze. His expression turned chillingly cold, and absolute rationality took control of his thoughts.
"If I don’t want Lucifer to find out, then he won’t. I’ve already carried his child—how could I let something so trivial ruin that?"
Sealing the divine bloodline.
Ensuring that his child retained the traits of the Son of Darkness—this way, Lucifer would never suspect a thing.
The Book of Genesis fell silent. God was as obstinate as ever—whenever He decided on something, He would take it to the extreme.
"If I had known things would turn out this way—" The Book of Genesis brushed against Yahweh’s abdomen with its softest pages, like an elder filled with hopeful anticipation for a younger generation. "I never would have agreed to you casting Lucifer into Hell. Now, seeing you both stuck in this awkward predicament… I, too, bear some responsibility."
Yahweh lifted the golden book that had accompanied him for countless years, embracing it in his arms, his cheek pressing against its hardened cover.
"I have no regrets."
Even if Lucifer hated him.
"I may feel sorrow, but without the world, there would be no Lucifer."
Using Lucifer as the sacrifice to maintain the balance between light and darkness had ensured the world's continuation. Only through that could the possibility of resolving hatred exist.
Otherwise—
What meaning would destruction hold?
As he spoke, the divinity in Yahweh’s pupils transcended all notions of love and hate. Seated upon his throne, the world revolved beneath his gaze. God loved mankind—but above all, He loved the world He had personally created.
After a long moment of stunned silence, the Book of Genesis sighed. "As expected of God."
But the reverence it felt did not last long.
The divine, untouchable aura that placed God above all beings suddenly dissipated. Yahweh’s lips curved into a faint smile.
Then, near His abdomen, the Book of Genesis suddenly heard something—a sound it couldn’t ignore.
Unable to resist, it leaned in closer to listen.
Sure enough—
It heard the faint stirrings of life.
The Book of Genesis gasped in shock.
"Ah!"
It actually awakened its soul right after God spoke of His conviction—does this not mean it is destined to be sacrificed for the balance of light and darkness?!
"It is not sacrifice—it is an innate responsibility."
Sensing the subtle changes within Himself, God spoke to the Book of Genesis.
At that moment, He suddenly understood the bond of father and son among mortals.
Just like the Messiah and Cain—though their identities had drastically shifted, though the Messiah had been baptized by Him and had forgotten his past life, he had still rushed to save Cain in a moment of peril.
Father and son.
Bound by blood, connected through remembrance—wasn’t this exactly how He anticipated the birth of His child?
From this day forward, God began a life no longer of solitude, but of nurturing new life. With calm resolve, He shut down the teleportation array leading to the Crystal Heaven and instructed the Seraphim not to disturb Him. Then, changing into a simple white robe, wearing no adornments, He pushed open the grand doors of the Great Cathedral—ready to seek out Lucifer and indulge in the pleasures of a mortal rendezvous.
"Wait for me!"
The Book of Genesis hurriedly flew after Him, insisting on tagging along.
Even if it had to play dead, that was fine too!
Seeing that the Book of Genesis had been behaving well recently, God reluctantly decided to trust it this once.
After applying a layer of disguise to ensure no issues, He cradled a book He deeply resented—newly renamed "The Ultimate Guide to Parenting"—and departed.
—Through the barrier separating Heaven and the mortal realm—
Yahweh landed on the ground.
The Book of Genesis whispered, "God, You stepped on Your hair."
Yahweh replied icily, "Shut up. No speaking in the mortal realm."
The power of divine command—absolute and undeniable.
The Book of Genesis sulked as it realized it had lost its ability to speak. Fortunately, it could still write. Secretly, it sketched a little illustration of Yahweh stepping on His own hair and stored it on the last page of its records as a cherished keepsake.
Yahweh gathered some of His hair with a tie and maintained a constant cleansing spell. Then, with practiced ease, He strode toward a secluded grove hidden by an enchantment.
This was also the Book of Genesis’ first time witnessing the place where God and Satan held their clandestine meetings.
Its first thought—
So you two prefer a pastoral aesthetic?
It had no strength to complain.
Only when Yahweh led it out of the winding forest path did it finally lay eyes on the vast sea of flowers.
The forces of light and darkness in the air were in a unique state of equilibrium. Within the barrier, life flourished abundantly, birds and beasts roamed freely, and their spiritual waves emanated a deep sense of tranquility—proof that they truly loved this unrestrained paradise.
The Book of Genesis was astonished.
The world itself had yet to achieve balance between light and darkness, and yet this place had done so in advance.
Yahweh walked through the sea of flowers.
A small wooden house, covered in climbing vines, entered His line of sight.
As if sensing Yahweh’s arrival, a familiar figure emerged from within—someone the Book of Genesis had long known.
—Satan, Lucifer.
"Yahweh, what is that you're holding?"
Unlike the cold sovereign the Book of Genesis had previously encountered, Lucifer’s expression was warm, his smile reaching his eyes. As he approached Yahweh, the usual solitary arrogance of Hell’s ruler was nowhere to be seen.
Instead, the Book of Genesis was reminded of the “Lucifer” it had glimpsed just days ago—the one whose inherent gentleness, should he choose to reveal it, was enough to drown anyone in its depths.
The power of love.
"A book."
Yahweh glanced at the book's cover and instantly felt embarrassed.
Lucifer took the book from his hands, paused upon seeing the title, and held back a laugh as he said, "Looks like I forgot to prepare a few things. Yahweh, you're quite thoughtful."
Pulling Yahweh into their shared cottage, Lucifer let go of his hand at the tea table, placing the book on the surface before pouring a freshly brewed pot of hot tea for Yahweh. Yahweh sat down naturally, his hands resting on the table's edge, arms folded neatly, chin slightly raised—looking exactly like the little angel from Lucifer’s memories, back when he studied at the Angel Academy.
[I must never let Yahweh know I thought that.]
The thought flashed through Lucifer's mind. He understood well that just because Yahweh was inexperienced with the world didn’t mean He had no temper.
"How long are you staying this time?" Lucifer handed him a cup of tea and, watching him take small sips, sat down beside him.
Yahweh recalled Michael’s darkened expression and deliberately extended the original timeframe. "Seven days."
Lucifer tapped Yahweh’s nose with his index finger, speaking intimately, "Go back in five. Seven is too long."
Yahweh’s mood sank.
He could have stayed longer—if not for the restrictions of His Seraphim identity.
A hand gently covered Yahweh’s abdomen, diverting His attention. Lucifer lightly massaged the area, his thoughts lingering on the possibility that the child carried a dark constitution. Knowing how much Yahweh rejected darkness, he couldn’t help but ask with concern, "Does your stomach hurt? Will the child affect your power?"
Yahweh had completely forgotten the discomfort He initially felt. Obediently, He replied, "It’s fine."
The Book of Genesis secretly rolled its eyes.
Carrying a pure source of darkness? And God feels fine? Yeah, right.
After checking in on His lover’s recent affairs, Lucifer temporarily relaxed. Leaning closer to Yahweh, he initiated their usual intimate gestures—nothing forceful. His tongue traced along Yahweh’s lips, his voice husky and seductive as he murmured, "Yahweh..."
But this time, Yahweh couldn’t simply close His eyes and accept the kiss with ease.
His face flushed, and His gaze drifted toward the book on the table.
Lucifer noticed where He was looking and raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Did the book say you can’t kiss casually?"
Yahweh had no words to respond.
How could He endure the Book of Genesis’ nosy gaze?!
Feeling playful, Lucifer let Yahweh go for now and instead flipped through the book He had brought—"The Ultimate Guide to Parenting."
The Book of Genesis immediately racked its memory, scrambling to compile a list of pregnancy precautions.
At first, Lucifer read at a slow, careful pace. But as he went on, he flipped through the pages faster and faster, as if trying to absorb all the information at once.
This put the Book of Genesis in a panic—it had to fabricate content on the spot, stringing together nonsense at lightning speed just to keep up.
Yahweh broke into a cold sweat watching its desperate efforts.
Just as the Book of Genesis smugly thought it had successfully fooled Lucifer, it saw him stop turning the pages, deep in thought.
[Pregnancy Precaution #1209:]
["Both partners must be proactive and gentle during intercourse. The pregnant partner’s abdomen must not be compressed, blood circulation must be ensured, and emotional well-being must be maintained."]
Lucifer caressed Yahweh’s thigh, his voice laced with temptation. "Yahweh, how about trying it on top?"
Yahweh looked utterly confused.
Lucifer continued his hints. "You’ve been pregnant for over two months now. I’ve been careful not to touch you, afraid it might make you uncomfortable. But after reading this, I think we should ease some tension through ‘physical and emotional connection.’"
Yahweh hesitated. "…Physical and emotional… connection? Are you talking about soul fusion?"
Lucifer’s smile grew even softer and more alluring.
"No."
A completely mismatched response.
Without hesitation, Yahweh rejected him outright.
What a joke. Soul fusion involved the merging of essences—if he did that, Lucifer would immediately realize He wasn’t an angelic soul but a physical being. And in the Three Realms, only one entity possessed a flesh-and-blood body with such a radiant form—God.
Lucifer wasn’t discouraged. He patiently read aloud every "beneficial" section from the book—the more explicit, the better.
Yahweh’s gaze burned into the Book of Genesis, who shuddered where Lucifer couldn’t see and continued pretending to be dead.
Seeing that Lucifer was being completely misled by the book’s nonsense, Yahweh tugged at his sleeve and said, "It made that up. Don’t believe it."
Lucifer’s hand slid down to his waist and gave a light pat.
"Let’s give it a try."
Yahweh’s face burned red in an instant.
The rejection that was about to escape His lips inexplicably turned into a barely audible, mosquito-sized, "…Mm."
On the table, the Book of Genesis was practically drowning in the sheer sweetness of this couple’s private interactions.
Where did the God who despised lust go?!