Dark purple light erupted from deep within the earth, carrying the shriek of laws and the echoes of fate, and fell upon the ground.
The sphere of light hovered in midair, intricate silver patterns flowing across its surface. Those patterns wove into threads, the threads into a net, and countless tiny nodes could faintly be seen pulsing within it.
It was breathing, rising and falling rhythmically with the cadence of something about to awaken.
Nyx slumped against her divine throne. She watched that mass of essence break through the vault of the Underworld and depart, watched the power of fate she had nurtured for so long leave her body, a complex light shifting in her eyes.
In her perception, her authority over fate expanded slightly. Those three new threads of fate were taking shape, joining the River of Fate as new tributaries.
A portion of her power had been drawn away, but that portion would return to her hands in another form.
Uranus clenched his fists, his gaze locked on the rising sphere of dark purple light.
His killing intent was even stronger than before, because he could sense that once the existence within that light was truly born, it would affect his laws of the sky.
The power of fate would tighten its hold on the world, which meant that he would face another restraint when exercising his authority as God King in the future.
"She must not be allowed to be born whole."
The Crown of the God King appeared above his head. The golden crown unleashed an overwhelming pressure, and supreme divine power gathered between his palms into a pillar of light.
He thrust his hands forward, sending that pillar of light crashing straight toward the light of essence with unstoppable force.
Every watching god held their breath. That attack was far too fierce. Never mind a god still in the process of being born-even a First-Class God struck head-on would shatter in an instant.
But to everyone's surprise, the God of Darkness simply stood there quietly, his hands hanging at his sides, making no move to stop it.
A slender hand reached out from within the sphere of light.
The hand emerged from the dark purple radiance, fair and long-fingered, a faint silver glow flowing over its nails.
It held a strangely shaped pair of shears, three intertwined silver threads wound around the handles. Every opening and closing of the blades sent ripples through the laws of fate.
The shears opened and cut down at that world-destroying pillar of golden light.
The instant the blades closed, the world seemed to pause. The raging pillar of golden light divided into two before the shears' edge, splitting smoothly down the middle into left and right halves.
The two streams of energy swept past either side of the dark purple sphere and crashed into the earth, leveling the surrounding mountains and forests in an instant.
Dust billowed into the sky, and broken stones and splintered wood flew in every direction. Yet at the very center of that devastated, scorched ground, the dark purple sphere hovered unharmed.
Deathly silence fell over the scene. Even Uranus lowered his hands. He glanced down at his palm, where supreme divine power still swirled, but his attack had indeed been deflected.
The warning of the laws thundered within him. The new god had already been born. Her complete living form had been recorded by the laws and could not be erased.
Moreover, that dense power of fate was spilling from the sphere of light, seeping into the edges of his laws of the sky and making him feel a restraint he had not felt in a long time.
He withdrew his divine power and took half a step back. The golden crown dimmed slightly, but outwardly, he still maintained the composure of a God King as he watched the light slowly opening.
Nairmis hovered in the distant sky, the pen in his hand already racing across the parchment. His eyes shone faintly. He had seen those shears, seen the pillar of light cut in two.
Fragments of memories from the future were slowly aligning with everything unfolding before him. The pulsing of his Fate Divinity confirmed a certain conjecture: those were Atropos's Shears of Severance.
The sphere of dark purple light was slowly opening, and the first goddess stepped out.
She was tall and slender, draped in a silver-gray robe.
Her face was serene and solemn, and she held a peculiar spindle. A bright silver bead spun at its tip, each turn drawing a thread of fate out of the void.
She stood in the air and tilted her head slightly upward, her voice flowing from her lips.
"I am Clotho, goddess of the spinning of fate, ordainer of life's beginning. I twist the threads of fate of all living beings, silently laying out their origins. Beneath the spindle of fate, every living being's starting point is mine to determine."
"I existed before time, and I shall endure beyond it. Through my spinning, the world gained direction; through my twisting, fate gained its beginning."
As her declaration ended, a deep silver radiance suffused the air.
The second goddess stepped out right behind her. Her features were somewhat softer than the first's, and a shifting radiance filled her eyes. She held a peculiar ball of thread, fine strands wound around it in layer upon layer.
Every thread connected to a starting point spun by Clotho, extending toward the unknown distance.
She stood beside Clotho and addressed the world.
"I am Lachesis, goddess of the measuring of fate, walking the course of time. I measure the destined paths of all living beings, using my ball of thread to measure their length and breadth. The span of every life is delineated in my hands."
"I existed before time, and I shall endure beyond it. Through me, the roads of the world gained their measure; through their journeys, all living beings gained meaning."
As the second declaration ended, a faint sound arose in the air.
The third goddess stepped out, her face cool and aloof. She held those peculiar shears, their blades still retaining the residual warmth of the laws from cutting through the God King's attack. Silver threads wound around the edges, then scattered.
"I am Atropos, goddess of fate's end, wielder of the impartial Shears of Severance. I sever the threads of fate of all living beings, marking the boundary of all things at their end."
"I existed before time, and I shall endure beyond it. Through my shears, the world gained its ending; through my cutting, fate gained its completeness."
After the declarations ended, Clotho put away her spindle, Lachesis drew the ball of thread into her palm, and Atropos gently put away the shears that had astonished the entire world.
Three pairs of eyes turned in unison toward Uranus and the God of Darkness.
Then they bowed together, their movements graceful and composed, paying their respects to the two Primordial Gods.
"We pay our respects to His Majesty Uranus, God King of the world, and His Divine Eminence Erebus, God of Darkness. We are both the executors of fate and a part of the world, and we hold all the Primordial Gods in the highest esteem."
Erebus's gaze flickered. He did not answer, merely nodded.
Uranus said nothing. He looked at the three figures bowing to him, at their slender shoulders and lowered heads.
Only moments ago, one of them had used a pair of shears to sever his full-powered strike. His expression was ugly.
At that moment, the light of day finally sank completely below the horizon. The shadows at the entrance to the Underworld abruptly deepened, and Hemera hurried through the Underworld in the last sliver of light.
Night fell completely, and the Goddess of Night stepped soundlessly out of the void, appearing beside the Three Fates.