Aergia walked down the long passage deep within the temple, her footsteps measured and unhurried.
Dark vines clung to the stone walls on either side of the passage, their blossoms forever suspended on the verge of blooming.
The air was heavy with the faint sweetness of poppies and the moist vapor of the River of Oblivion.
Her steps were very light—not out of deliberate effort, but because this divine body possessed an almost weightless quality. Barefoot upon the cold stone surface, the sound she produced was fainter than a falling petal.
Yet she walked steadily. Every step landed firmly where it belonged, without the slightest hesitation.
The godhead of Sloth continuously whispered murmured entreaties inside her—"Stop and rest for a moment"—which Aergia suppressed without batting an eye.
At the end of the passage lay a spacious hall.
There were no lamps here, yet it was not dark.
Countless strands of light, thin as hair, dangled from the domed ceiling. The glow was neither the gold of the sun nor the silver of the moon, but an amber hue hazy as morning fog, lingering between dreaming and waking.
The strands drifted gently in the air, enveloping the entire hall in a perpetual, languid twilight.
In the center of the hall, reclined sideways upon a massive obsidian couch, was Hypnos, God of Sleep.
He appeared very young, his features possessing the flawless beauty unique to Greek deities blessed by the laws of the world.
Yet due to his perpetual slumber, that beauty was wrapped in a heavy blanket of fatigue, softening its sharp edges.
The pair of folded, pure-white wings behind him looked extraordinarily dreamlike beneath the amber radiance.
It was as breathtaking as a painted scroll.
He rested his forehead on one hand while holding a bouquet of never-fading poppies in the other.
The petals were originally dripping with vivid crimson, yet they trembled softly to his long, steady breaths. With every tremor, an impossibly fine wisp of pollen—nearly invisible to the naked eye—drifted into the air before dispersing, steeping the hall in an even deeper atmosphere of weariness.
"Finally born?" His voice was deep and soft, like honey dissolving in warm water.
The wings behind Hypnos twitched faintly—a movement so subtle it was like an exhausted bird unconsciously shuffling its feathers in a dream—and he slowly opened his eyes.
They were a pair of truly peculiar eyes—a dreamlike, hazy pinkish-purple, with depths faintly saturated by centuries of accumulated weariness, layers thicker than even Aergia's own languid facade.
The owner of those eyes slowly, deliberately swept his gaze over Aergia from head to toe.
As the master of the Temple of Sleep, he could sense everything within it. The moment the goddess set foot in his domain, Hypnos had felt the strange aura she carried—sluggish, stagnant, and imbued with a familiar sense of fatigue.
Weak, yet peculiar, and giving him a subtle sense of familiarity—a resonance born from the laws themselves.
This stirred a faint flicker of doubt and curiosity in Hypnos's heart.
"Lord Hypnos, ruler of sleep and noble Child of Night, I am Aergia, daughter of Aether, God of the Upper Sky, symbolizing sloth and indolence. Guided by fate, I was born within the Temple of Sleep as your subordinate deity, and I have come to report to you."
The young goddess's voice was crisp and pleasant, her tone gentle and languid.
"The bloodline of Aether?" Hearing that she also carried the lineage of Night, Hypnos nodded. "Since this is Mother Goddess's arrangement, you may stay at ease in my temple. Don't disturb me when there's nothing going on. Also, don't wander around outside for no reason. If you offend my ill-tempered siblings, I won't be able to save you in time."
In short, he was telling Aergia to quietly play the part of a useless ornament in the Temple of Sleep and avoid causing trouble, because he would not bail her out if she did.
Aergia took this in stride. She was, after all, an outsider dropped into this position, holding a useless divine portfolio and weak divine power. Had it not been for the Goddess of the Night's arrangements, she would not even have been worthy of crossing the threshold of the Temple of Sleep.
Still, opportunities had to be seized by oneself.
"Noble Child of Night, as your subordinate deity, what duties am I to perform?"
Hypnos seemed to ponder seriously for a moment before showing a hint of confusion.
For in all the endless years, no god had ever asked him such a question.
Indolent by nature, he had never actively recruited any subordinate deities. Had it not been for his mother goddess's arrangement, he would not even have Aergia under him.
Most deities possessed their own domains and duties; even followers usually attached themselves to powerful gods merely to seek protection.
As for work? Gods rarely bothered with such things.
After a moment of silence, Hypnos casually pointed toward the depths of the temple.
"There are some dream crystals piled over there. Organize them for me."
"Also, the poppy fields on the outer perimeter of the temple haven't been tended to in a long time."
"And..."
Having seemingly finally found someone he could order around, Hypnos's voice gradually turned earnest.
"Scattered law fragments often form at the edge of the domain of sleep. If you see any, collect them while you're at it. Don't let them keep drifting."
Having said all this, the God of Sleep lay back down on the stone couch, his eyes slowly closing.
Before long, steady and rhythmic breathing resounded.
Aergia stared at the God of Sleep, who seemed to have fallen back asleep, remaining silent for a long time before ultimately accepting reality.
It seemed she really was starting to work a job—and her boss did not seem particularly reliable.
...
The years that followed were exceptionally tranquil. The Temple of Sleep was situated on the edge of the Underworld, far from the earth, far from the sky, and far from the conflicts among the gods.
There was no gaze of Uranus here, nor the struggles of the Titans—only endless silence and slumber.
Aergia liked this place very much because it was safe enough, so she began earnestly carrying out her duties.
Organizing dream crystals, tending to the divine plants on the temple's outer perimeter, and collecting the law fragments scattered at the edge of the sleep domain.
At first, she merely treated all of this as a job.
Occasionally, those dream crystals would reflect the lingering memories of dreamers before they fell asleep; as Aergia organized them, she gradually began to pay attention to their contents.
Yet bit by bit, Aergia discovered an interesting phenomenon: living beings affected by the divine power of sleep did not all react the same way.
Some fell asleep peacefully, others struggled instinctively, and a few powerful beings even erupted in fierce resistance the instant sleep descended upon them.
It was as though sleep were not a gift, but a sudden assault—a discovery that piqued her interest.
As a former researcher, she instinctively began to observe, record, and summarize patterns.
Time flowed quietly within the temple as day after day, night after night passed by.
What began as scattered anomalies gradually revealed a pattern impossible to ignore in Aergia's eyes as her observations accumulated.
When Hypnos's authority over sleep swept over the earth, not all living creatures accepted slumber without resistance.
Some beings quieted down the moment that power descended, their bodies relaxing naturally and their consciousness slipping into darkness.
Others struggled instinctively when the divine power touched them, as if something had suddenly invaded the depths of their mind, attempting to drag them forcibly away from wakefulness.
At its most intense, creatures that were inherently powerful and in a state of high mental alertness could even briefly break free from the shackles of sleep.
Of course, this resistance was ultimately meaningless—at least in front of Hypnos.
So long as the God of Sleep slightly increased his power, even the most stubborn struggle merely delayed slumber by a few breaths.
Hypnos never seemed to pay much mind to this phenomenon either. To him, whether the creatures of the world were willing to sleep was irrelevant; once sleep descended, they would all fall into slumber in the end.
Aergia, however, grew increasingly curious about it.
On this day, the poppy pollen within the temple continued to float gently with Hypnos's long breaths.
Having organized the final dream crystal, Aergia did not leave as usual, but stopped beside the obsidian couch.
Hypnos did not open his eyes, yet he still sensed her presence.
"Is there something else?"
"Your Highness," Aergia said from a short distance, her tone calm and respectful. "The next time you exercise your authority over sleep, may I observe from the side?"
The deity on the stone couch fell silent for a moment. Then, those pinkish-purple eyes, clouded with heavy weariness, slowly opened.
"Why do you wish to observe me exercising my authority over sleep?"
Hypnos asked with a hint of curiosity. He did not suspect Aergia of wanting to steal his authority.
Or rather, he was confident enough that within the domain of sleep, no god could violate his dignity.
"Living beings affected by the divine power of sleep react differently, which aroused my curiosity. As your subordinate deity, in order to better assist you, I believe it is necessary for me to understand the reasons behind this."
"..."
Assist him? Hypnos looked at the young goddess before him for a moment, a peculiar expression dawning in his eyes.
"If I remember correctly," he said sluggishly, "your divine portfolio should be Sloth, should it not?"
Aergia nodded.
"Yes."
"Then why are you always actively looking for work to do?"
"..."
For a moment, Aergia was at a loss for words. She could hardly tell him that Sloth was merely the divine portfolio of this body, while inside resided a soul so hyper-competitive she could overwork even herself to death.
Seeing her fall silent, Hypnos found it rather amusing, the faint curiosity in his eyes deepening slightly.
"What is it you want to see?"
"The living beings that resist sleep," Aergia replied without hiding anything. "I want to know why they resist."
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