When anybody in Evolto City hears the name Cavian, they would describe her as motherly, trustworthy, a true mama bear. The children would cheer, "Second mama! Best mama!" Marisov, in all his innocent wisdom, would declare her "the greatest mother!" Dr. Wagner, ever the gentleman, would call her "a stunning and charming woman." And Virdarath? He would smirk and say, "Wagner's lover."
But Zalthorion, the guardian of the multiverse, the one who has faced eldritch horrors, battled cosmic entities, and stood against the most powerful forces of existence his response was different. He would pause, as if recalling something far more terrifying than any war or calamity, and say, "The most terrifying woman I've ever seen. I'd still trust Marisov with her, but still… terrifying."
Dr. Wagner, caught off guard, turned to Zalthorion. "What do you mean by that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
Zalthorion sighed, his gaze distant. "After the war, Evolto City was in its infancy, and the multiverse's conflicts had left countless orphans behind. We needed someone to care for them while we built this sanctuary, but not just anyone someone truly capable, someone strong enough to protect them. That someone was Cavian."
He let the weight of the name settle before continuing.
"Cavian was no ordinary woman she was a Warrior Goddess, so powerful that she could have annihilated every single pantheon in her universe. But she didn't. You see, to her, every living being that worshiped her was a child her child. She nurtured civilizations, guided them with unwavering love, and protected them as any mother would.
But then, a jealous god, envious of her devotion and strength, made a fatal mistake. They sent their followers to slaughter her worshippers to erase her legacy."
Zalthorion's voice darkened. "What followed was not vengeance. It was an extinction-level reckoning. She did not just strike down the god responsible she erased every single deity in that universe. Hundreds of pantheons, their creators, their rulers none were spared. And when one of the most powerful Consumers came to devour the now godless universe, thinking it vulnerable, she cut it down without hesitation."
Dr. Wagner exhaled sharply, absorbing the weight of the story. "And yet… she runs a daycare?"
Zalthorion chuckled. "I managed to recruit her to Evolto City. The moment she arrived, she opened a daycare and dedicated herself to the children. And when a massive rift storm erupted inside it one that should have swallowed everything she forcefully closed it with her bare hands. No rift stabilizer. No advanced tech. Just raw power and sheer will."
Dr. Wagner blinked. "That's… terrifying."
Zalthorion smirked. "Now you understand."
Wagner shook his head. "But how did she become so… gentle?"
Zalthorion's expression softened. "Because here, in Evolto City, the children are truly safe. This city is protected nothing can harm them. And when you live in a place where no harm can reach those you love, where you don't have to fight every moment to keep them alive… even the fiercest warrior can finally become just a mother."
While Zalthorion and Dr. Wagner spoke of her, Cavian was exactly where she always was in the heart of Evolto City's largest daycare, surrounded by children.
She moved through the daycare with practiced ease, feeding the little ones, guiding the older ones through their training, and ensuring everything was in order. Around her, her employees worked tirelessly, preparing for the arrival of even more children.
Then, a rhythmic thump, thump, thump echoed from outside. The ground trembled slightly, and the air filled with an unmistakable, booming voice.
"Miss Cavian! Me bring the kids for you!"
The massive figure of Yariam appeared at the entrance, his towering frame casting a long shadow over the doorway. The gentle Ogryn had his arms and shoulders stacked with children Cilians, Dendrites, Metallurges, and even a few kids carrying their baby beasts.
As soon as they were inside, Yariam set them down carefully, grinning as they rushed toward their favorite spots. Once the daycare settled, he and Cavian stood together, their conversation flowing effortlessly a talk between a mother and her son in everything but blood.
Despite his slow speech, Yariam wasn't above teasing Cavian about Dr. Wagner, his deep voice laced with innocent amusement. "Miss Cavian and Mister Doctor Wagner always together. Maybe you two are like mama and papa?"
The employees, who had been preparing supplies, perked up at the topic. Gossip spread like wildfire, whispers and giggles filling the air as they exchanged knowing glances.
But all it took was one sharp glare from Cavian, and the entire staff immediately scrambled back to work.
As the day went on, Cavian continued her exhausting yet fulfilling routine, tending to the children. By the afternoon, Yariam returned to play with them, joined by none other than Dr. Wagner himself.
What neither Cavian nor Wagner noticed was the gaggle of employees, children, and even Yariam peeking from behind a corner, giggling at how close they seemed.
After a while, Dr. Wagner left, and Cavian finally turned only to find dozens of smirking, wide-eyed faces staring at her. She let out a tired sigh.
As soon as she took a step toward them, they immediately scattered, pretending to be busy with their duties.
Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to the children, playing with them until the last ones were picked up.
Eventually, the daycare emptied. The employees left, Yariam waved goodbye, and the children had all gone home.
Cavian stood alone in the quiet space, the once-lively halls now filled only with the soft hum of the evening breeze.
Locking the doors behind her, she walked to her room a modest, private space tucked away in the daycare.
Inside, the walls were lined with blankets, gifts, and relics from a life long past. These were the offerings of her former worshippers tokens of gratitude from civilizations that once revered her as a goddess.
Now, they were reminders of a different kind of devotion not from worshippers, but from children who simply called her "Mama."
And to Cavian, that meant far more than divinity ever could.