Completely Mad-No One Was Getting Out Unscathed!

That name again?!

"Atropos." This was the second time Alvin had heard that "name" from Chaos.

As a transmigrator, he of course knew the name. It came from Greek mythology, where Atropos was one of the three Fates born to Zeus.

In Greek mythology, even Zeus, the God King, could not interfere with or alter the authority of the three Fates.

According to legend, the three of them remained forever in the divine realm, weaving at a loom that spun the threads of every living being's destiny.

The youngest, Clotho, governed the future and spun the thread of life, symbolizing birth. Her elder sister Lachesis measured the length of that thread, symbolizing the length and fortunes of one's life.

But their eldest sister, Atropos, was somewhat different.

In the myths, she wielded a pair of shears that could sever the thread of fate, and it was her duty to pass judgment on destiny.

In ancient Greek, the name "Atropos" also meant "inevitable fate" or "unavoidable end," reflecting the final judgment over destiny embodied by this Fate.

If the Tzeentch Daemon's use of that title the last time had perhaps been an exception, then this time Alvin seemed to have caught on to something.

He knelt on one knee amid the rubble. The side effects of overusing his Psykana Power stabbed at his cerebral cortex like needles, and the repeated, grievous blows had left his finely crafted power armor riddled with cracks, ready to fall apart at any moment.

The helmet's filters had long since failed.

Even his auspex and visor had been shattered in the violent collision earlier. His vision was almost entirely black, so he simply removed his helmet, tossed it aside, and took a deep breath.

The stench of poison and sulfur flooded his lungs straight from his