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Zandar realised that he had absolutely messed everything up as a father when he saw "the monster of Destruction" being a better caretaker of a child than him.
Irontomb, for some reason, was passionate about growing and nurturing his younger sister since her "release", although his view of "nurturing" was... unique, to say the least. "Enter Sandman" was playing in the nursery thirteen times in a row in the evening — Irontomb had a habit of repeating something until everyone was completely sick of it, as if he were stuck in a loop or a cycle, and Zandar was still wondering if this was a bug or a feature. However, Irontomb was caring, albeit in his creepy and menacing way, while Zandar could not apply the word "caring" to himself in any sense or context.
"Sleep with one eye open, gripping your pillow tight" — oh, Anesti, you definitely should sleep like that, if you manage to sleep at all, living with a brother who genuinely believes that playing metal music instead of lullabies is a great idea, a father who doesn't know if he should do something about it, and a sister who does know — does know that she shouldn't do anything. What a family, huh?
"Family"... Such a sophisticated concept to comprehend, such a difficult operating system to work with and develop software for. Sometimes it feels like every single line of code conflicts with the others, so even a brilliant genius, who knows how to build the most complex mechanisms and machines, is allowed to mess up here — at least that's what Zandar constantly told himself in order to preserve the last bits of his sanity. He made a mistake when he gave birth to Nous, then spent years claiming that he wouldn't make the same mistake twice.
He did make the same mistake twice.
He was so afraid of losing control, losing any parental authority in the eyes of his first child, those all-seeing and all-knowing eyes that were looking right through him, sending shivers down his spine... He thought that the second child could fix this: stop the monopoly of Nous, who had surpassed him with ease — as much as he hated to admit that — and remind her what a true "rivalry" means because Mythus, whoever they were, didn't seem to be doing their job properly. And Zandar would do his job properly, no, he would do even better than "properly", as a true perfectionist should. Zandar gave birth to Nous, therefore he was the best possible candidate for giving birth to someone no less than Nous, for bringing some balance to their family, doomed to the core. Releasing a "fix-patch", as he called it. "Like cures like", people say.
People are catastrophically wrong.
Of course people are wrong. It's always someone else who's wrong. Anyone and everyone is wrong except Zandar. A mind like his couldn't possibly be wrong — Nous, dear, have you erased all possibilities and probabilities, all branches of the space-time continuum where your father is wrong even by a single bit? Good girl, daddy is so proud of you! What? Spent so much time calculating the answer to the prime mover of life but had no time to learn about the concept of sarcasm? Well, I'm always happy to teach you something new. Yes, this is sarcasm too, my pitiful creation.
It took making two children, both surpassing their creator, both becoming so self-confident and powerful that there was no chance to control them, for Zandar to realise: he was supposed to be a genius, not a stubborn idiot, drowning in his own hubris. Perhaps. He wasn't sure yet. He was never sure about anything in his life, and he's still not sure now. But hey, being unsure and doubtful is fine, right? Look at his younger daughter — she is insecure and prone to self-doubt just as much! Although she is a three-year-old girl and certainly not a mature grown man... but who cares about such an unimportant detail in the great equation of life, the universe, and everything?
Anyway, Zandar finally could be proud of himself: he had learnt from his mistakes, broken the cycle, et cetera. His last child had absolutely no intention of invading Erudition or bringing Destruction. Her desires were much more humble: to drink some caramel-flavoured cola, to enjoy her favourite musical, to go to the amusement park, to understand herself, to solve the identity crisis she was struggling with every single day, to willingly turn her whole life into an experiment...
Zandar didn't repeat his mistake. But the cost was making a different one.