"Mika...why are you smiling like that?"
But Mikaâs smirk only deepened, his eyes glittering with the quiet satisfaction of someone who had already set the board and placed the pieces.
"I understand how much you like it, Yelena." He began smoothly, voice calm, almost coaxing. "Youâve always loved pretty things, bracelets, necklaces, earrings. You light up when you wear them. I know that."
His hand slid over hers, and for a moment she thought he was going to give in. But instead, he tugged lightly, prying at her grip until the metal shifted in her arms.
"But this..." He said, voice firmer. "...is something I canât give away. Not this one. Youâll have to forget about it."
"Huh? Why? Why not?...I mean, come on, Mika, have I ever asked you for anything? Anything at all?"
Her face fell instantly, lips curving into a pout that was both childish and stubborn, her arms folding the artifact closer against her chest as if protecting it from a thief.
"And now, the one time I do, youâre being selfish?" Her tone cracked with indignation, her eyes wide and pleading. "Itâs just one piece of jewelry you called trash anyway! Why canât you give it to me?"
Hearing this blatant lie, Mikaâs smirk faltered. His brows knit together, and his voice sharpened.
"Donât say that, Yelena. Donât you dare say youâve never asked me for anything."
Yelena blinked, caught off guard by the sudden weight in his tone.
"Youâve always stolen something away from me."
Mika went on, his words firm, almost scolding.
"When I brought my projects or whatever I made in
school back, whether it was a drawing or a animal I molded with clay, youâd take them without asking."
"When I ate, youâd snatch food from my plate without a second thought."
"And donât think Iâve forgotten last time you came to my place, you walked off with something you said was âprettyâ and kept it for yourself, without asking me at all."
His gaze was steady, unwavering.
"Persistent, thatâs what you are, Yelena. Especially when you want something from me."
A guilty look flickered across her face, her lips pressing into a thin line, only for her to scoff dismissively, flicking her hand through the air as though brushing away his words.
"Thatâs nothing. Donât make a fuss over such small things."
She then leaned in with a sly, almost mischievous smile, her voice softening.
"I just love you so much, Mika, that I want to share every part of you. Every project, every little trinket, every reminder. Keepsakes. Memories of you."
"And also if I didnât take them back then, my sisters would, so of course I had to keep them. Isnât that just me caring for you?" She laughed lightly, as though it were obvious. "So donât exaggerate."
Mika stared at her in quiet disbelief, floored by how confidently she turned her shamelessness into something righteous.
But she wasnât finished. Yelenaâs expression softened again as she reached forward and caught his hand in both of hers, her grip warm, imploring.
"But this, this is different, Mika. I donât know why, but I really want this artifact."
Her voice dropped into something vulnerable, her lashes trembling.
"Please, Mika. Let me have it. Consider it my gift for your return...and my apology for calling you a pig. If you give me this, Iâll forgive you for everything. All of it."
Her pleading eyes searched his face, expecting, no, certain, that he would cave. He always caved when she looked at him like this.
But to her shock, Mika slowly shook his head. His hand slipped free from hers, his voice firm.
"No. Not this. I can give you many things. But not this...Definitely not this."
The refusal cut deep, the finality of it making her flinch as though sheâd been struck. She stared at him in stunned silence, before her expression hardened.
Narrowing her eyes, her voice dripped with suspicion. "Why are you acting so differently, Mika? Whatâs so special about this piece of jewelry?"
He said nothing. His gaze slid away from hers.
Her suspicion thickened, sharp and accusing, until a spark of realization ignited in her mind.
Her lips parted, then curved into a scowl. She leaned closer, her eyes narrowing like a razor.
"...Is it a girl? Thatâs it, isnât it? You donât want to give it to me because itâs meant for another girl."
Mika remained silent to which her chest tightened, frustration burning through her, hotter and hotter with every heartbeat.
"So it is." Her voice trembled between fury and heartbreak. "You really were going to give this to some other woman."
Her words then came out sharp, bitter, once again resorting to gaslight him just like every mother did.
"All these years Iâve raised you, spoiled you, loved you more than I loved myself, and this is how you repay me? Another girl shows up and you start giving her gifts, cherishing her, and I...I donât matter anymore."
Her lip trembled, but her eyes glared at him, shimmering with resentment.
"So this is what it feels like, huh? For a mother to give her son away, to watch some woman pamper him with happiness, while sheâs left behind...Abandoned."
But even though Yelenaâs performance was good, Mika didnât flinch. He sat there, watching her theatrics with that maddening little smile tugging at his lips.
Instead of shrinking beneath her glare, he tilted his head, calm as ever, and asked,
"Yelena, why are you getting worked up over another girl? Just a moment ago you were so confident, telling me you didnât care about my romantic life, that you wouldnât interfere, that it wasnât your concern at all."
"...And yet, look at you now. Just the thought of me giving a gift to someone else has you boiling over."
Hearing this accusation, her head snapped down, eyes narrowing, her voice sharp, cutting through his words.
"Oh no, dear...Donât misunderstand me." Her tone carried the pride of a queen scolding a child. "I donât care who you date, who you love, or even who you marry."
"You could parade a dozen women in front of me, and I wouldnât bat an eye. You want to marry some random girl off the streets? Fine."
"You want to marry my own daughter? I wouldnât stop you...Because your romance, your so-called love life, means nothing compared to what we have."
Mika blinked, caught off guard. "...Nothing?"
"Thatâs right!" Yelenaâs lips curled into a triumphant smile, her voice low, husky, carrying the weight of her conviction. "Because my place in your life is untouchable...Unshakable."
"No girl, wife, lover, daughter, stranger, none of them can take my place...I am not in competition with them. Iâm above them."
"...Do you understand, Mika? Above them."
She lifted her chin, her pride radiating.
"I mean, theyâll always be scrambling for the crumbs of your affection. Meanwhile, Iâll sit at the very top...Your number one. Always."
Mika gave her a look of disbelief, somewhere between incredulous and amused.
"Youâre saying this so boldly, itâs like...you expect me to treat you with more importance than my own wife someday. Like sheâd be beneath you."
"And what if I am saying that?"
Yelenaâs gaze sharpened, burning into him as she leaned closer, her voice dropping into something colder, something more dangerous.
"I do expect it...No matter what girl comes along in the future, even if itâs my daughter herself, I expectâno, I demand, that you treat me with just as much attention, just as much love...if not more than you would your wife. And I will accept nothing less."
Her cold smile spread wider, with a chilly undertone.
"And if that woman ever dares to try and steal that position from me...well."
Her voice softened into a sweet, chilling lilt.
"Maybe one day sheâll head out to buy groceries and...simply never return. Youâd be a widower, Mika. Forced to find yourself a new wife."
"...And Iâd still be here, untouchable as always."
Her words made him shiver, a chill snaking down his spine despite the warmth of her body leaning against his. He knew she was joking but at the same time, he wasnât convinced she was.
He swallowed, deciding it was wiser not to pursue that line of conversation any further.
But Yelena wasnât done. Hugging the artifact tighter against her chest, her pout returned, raw frustration painted across her expression.
"And thatâs why I donât care about your romances. They donât matter. Iâm above them all...But right now? Right now youâre trying to prioritize another girl over me, and that, Mika, I will not forgive."
She clutched the shimmering waist chain with a fierce grip, pressing it protectively against her body as though he might rip it away from her.
"So give it back. I want it...No, Iâm keeping it!"
Mikaâs eyes narrowed as he watched Yelena clutch the chain to her chest with the kind of possessiveness one would show a child, or a treasure theyâd kill to protect.
Her grip was tight, her body angled defensively as though at any moment he might lunge forward and snatch it from her hands and they was exactly what he wanted, elated that she was so fond of the trap that he had set.
...But now that the trap had been set and was in place, it was time to prepare the lure.
He let out a long, tired sigh, shoulders slumping, as if all her dramatics had worn him down.
"Yelena...itâs not what you think. Itâs really not that."
He said, his voice quiet but edged with exasperation. His gaze softened, and the smile that had teased her earlier faded into something far more serious.
"I never intended to give that piece of jewelry to another girl. Thatâs not why Iâve been so protective of it."
Her eyes snapped up, confusion flaring across her face. She had been so sure, so sure, that another woman was the reason for his stubbornness.
"Then why?" She demanded, brows knitting tightly. "Why wonât you give it to me? You never act like this. If there wasnât a reason, youâd have handed it over the moment I asked."
"...So what is it? Whatâs wrong with it?"
Mikaâs expression turned strained, like he was wrestling with whether to say the words aloud. For a long moment, silence stretched between them, filled only by Yelenaâs impatient breaths and the faint clink of the chain as she shifted her hold on it.
Finally, he muttered. "I didnât want to say this. Itâs awkward, and honestly, Iâd rather not explain at all...but the truth is..." He hesitated, his eyes flicking toward the artifact. "...just like certain artifacts, this one has conditions. Conditions for the person who wishes to wield it."
Yelena blinked, then tilted her head slightly, her suspicion giving way to curiosity.
"Conditions?" She echoed, as though tasting the word. After a heartbeat, she gave a small nod of understanding. "Right. That does happen. Artifacts sometimes demand qualifications, a level threshold, or a certain mana flow."
"Iâve even seen some ridiculous ones, âsing at the top of a mountain,â or âjump off a cliff and break all your bonesâ, nonsense like that." She scoffed lightly, though her grip on the waistband never loosened. "So what of it?"
"Exactly that." Mika ran a hand through his hair, letting out another sigh. "This artifact isnât different. It has its own ridiculous condition, and unless you fulfill it...it wonât recognize you as its wielder."
Hearing this, a proud, confident smirk tugged at Yelenaâs lips.
"Is that all? You think that will stop me? Mika, donât forget who I am."
"Iâve fought horrors that would freeze the blood of lesser people. Iâve stood on the battlefield when death itself was breathing down my neck. I helped save the damn world."
She tapped the chain with a finger, arrogance glinting in her eyes.
"So tell me, whatâs one more silly qualification?...Whatever it is, Iâll do it."
But Mika only shook his head slowly, the corners of his mouth lifting into a humorless smile.
"You donât get it. If the requirement was something like slaying a nine-headed hydra, youâd do it in your sleep...If it demanded a mountainâs climb or a river of lava crossed, it would be childâs play for you."
"...Almost everything in this world is within your grasp, Yelena."
His gaze lingered on the shimmering band, then flicked back to her face.
"But this one...this one is different. Strange. Unbelievably awkward. Something neither of us can just...carry through with ease."
She scoffed at him again, though there was a flicker of unease in her eyes.
"Youâre being dramatic. It canât be that bad." She straightened her shoulders, her pride refusing to bend. "If youâre too embarrassed to say it, fine. Iâll find out myself. You said it reacts to mana, didnât you? Then Iâll see for myself."
Mikaâs flinched, but he didnât stop her. Instead, he simply gestured toward the waistband with a resigned look.
"Go ahead. Check it. Youâll understand."
Yelena smirked as if he had just admitted defeat.
Without hesitation, she let a controlled stream of her mana seep into the artifact. The moment the energy touched its crystalline core, the waistband stirred, faint lights rippling across the metal, a hum resonating in the air.
And then, like a whisper threading straight into her mind, the artifact revealed its condition.
And the moment it did, her body froze instantly.
The proud tilt of her head collapsed, her lips parting as her eyes widened, pupils shrinking to pinpricks. For a long, harrowing moment, she didnât move, didnât breathe. Her skin drained of color, and the smug smirk was wiped clean off her face.
Why she was reacting in such a way when she was so confident before?
Well, because this was the condition that the chain and given her:
[To wield my mighty self, the bearer must be a womanâand her figure must be praised by another she deems fit, her body adored and described in such filthy, irresistible detail that the heat of those words alone leaves her flushed, trembling, and burning all over with shame and desire]
[Only when these conditions are met, will she be allowed to wear my divine self]