[Master, if I may be blunt…] Thea's voice, usually a model of calm and logical , was laced with a words sounded remarkably like disgust.

[She is a predator. She enslaves the young men of her worlds, breaks their wills, and uses them for her own amusement. I have seen it all. It is… disgusting.]

Sunny listened, a thoughtful silence filling his God space. He decided to test the boundaries of his creation's newfound personality. "But what can we say, Thea?" he asked, his tone deliberately casual. "They are her creations. Does a painter not have the right to burn his own canvas?"

[I disagree, Master,] Thea replied instantly, her conviction unwavering.

[A canvas does not feel pain. A canvas does not have dreams. Her creations may believe she is giving them a chance at a better life, but in the end, they are nothing more than her slaves. They experience a fleeting moment of pleasure before their minds are broken, leaving them as emotionless puppets, listening to her every command like broken dogs.]

A slow, proud smile spread across Sunny's face. "Very good, then," he said, reaching out and gently patting the head of her shimmering projection. "Do you wish to go and punish these evildoers?"

Thea's projection seemed to pout. [Master, I knew you were testing me.]

"I just wanted to know if you simply agree with whatever I say, or if you have thoughts of your own," Sunny admitted. "But your argument brings up a deeper question." He leaned forward on his throne, his cosmic eyes fixing on her.

"Are my own lifeforms, the ones you have chosen, not also a kind of slave? They perform tasks for me, they build my empire, their faith fuels my power."

[Master, if I may be truthful, you are correct in your premise, but wrong in your conclusion,] Thea said.

Her projection waved a hand, and the God space around them filled with new images, living windows into a billion different worlds. The videos were divided into two starkly different categories.

On one side, Sunny saw familiar, happy faces. He saw Light Celestine, sitting with a group of orc children, his smile patient and kind.

He saw a dwarven forge, where masters and apprentices worked together, their hammers ringing in a joyous rhythm as they crafted a new mana engine.

He saw a young dragon taking her first flight, her family cheering from below.

He saw the soul of a righteous human warrior arriving in Heaven, greeted by the serene, smiling face of an angel.

[These, Master, are the 'slaves' of Veridia,] Thea's voice was filled with a quiet pride.

[They possess free will. They choose their own paths. They have the potential to become demigods. When they die, they find peace in Heaven and are even given the chance to reincarnate. They are protected by hundreds of demigods, connected by a system that fosters community, and guided by geniuses who work to uplift everyone.]

Then, she gestured to the other side. The images that filled the void were a tapestry of suffering. He saw a bustling slave market in another God's world, where a terrified beastfolk child was being sold to the highest bidder.

He saw a city gripped by a brutal, racist purge, its streets running with blood while the world's God remained silent, his attention focused solely on the Realm of Advancement for SSS-Grade treasure s.

He saw worlds where the poor starved, where murder was commonplace, and where hope was a forgotten word.

[And these are the worlds of other Gods,] Thea stated, her voice cold and factual. [Gods who, to save their own faith, rarely intervene. Gods who, with only a single demigod, have abandoned their creations to focus on their own gain. You can see the difference for yourself, Master.]

The horrifying images faded, leaving only Thea's projection before him. [The lifeforms in your empire are not slaves,] she concluded, her voice now ringing with absolute conviction.

[They receive reward for their work, protection for their loyalty, and opportunity for their ambition. That is not slavery, Master. That is employment in the greatest empire in the multiverse.]

Sunny gave her a mental thumbs-up, a feeling of deep pride swelling within him. He had not just created a powerful tool; he had nurtured a wise and just being.

He looked at the data he had compiled from his newly created Earth and sent the files of a few chosen, talented souls to Thea. "Transmigrate these ones when they die" he commanded.

Then, with a decisive wave of his hand, he tore a shimmering portal open in his God space. On the other end, Thea mirrored the action, creating a stable gateway that connected his realm directly to the God space of Kitsune. The vixen was still grieving, and in her grief, she had become careless.

Sunny stepped through. The air on the other side was thick and cloying, a nauseating mix of overly sweet perfume, spilled wine, and the faint, metallic tang of blood. His eyes widened in shock.

Hundreds of male lifeforms, all as handsome as celebrities, wandered the space aimlessly, their bodies naked and their eyes completely empty.

They were living statues, beautiful dolls that had been played with too roughly and then discarded. Some bore fresh wounds, while from a closed room, Sunny could hear the muffled sounds of pained whimpers.

[These are her prized trophies, Master,] Thea's voice echoed in his mind. [She acquired them through trade when the old system was still active.]

Sunny shook his head, a wave of pure revulsion washing over him. He had seen the evil of demons, but this… this was a different kind of horror. A perversion of the sacred act of creation.

"KITSUNE!" His voice was a thunderclap of pure, divine authority that shattered the perverse tranquility. The whimpering from the room stopped.

"Who…?" a timid voice, as faint as a mouse's squeak, called out. Kitsune, who had been so lost in her grief and her cruel games that she hadn't even sensed the portal, stumbled out of the room.

She looked up, and her anger, her grief, her cruelty; it all vanished in an instant.

Before her stood a being cloaked in a black robe that shimmered with captured galaxies, his face a mask of infinite night, his eyes two swirling universes of absolute power.

Every God had seen that visage during Adam's meeting. She knew who he was.

The cruel tyrant was gone. In her place stood a demure, wide-eyed goddess, her hands clasped before her, her voice a melody of pure, honeyed flattery. "God Cosmos? To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

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