A brewing disaster

He nodded and sat down, then closed his eyes, assuming the posture of gathering prophetic divine power.

Golden light flowed around his fingertips. Then he opened his eyes, and his paintbrush moved swiftly over the parchment, its lines quickly forming a simple picture.

Oceanus and Tethys emerged from the earth hand in hand. Surging blue seawater lay ahead, and the sky had opened up again overhead. Arm in arm, the two were walking toward the boundless ocean.

Metis took the parchment and lowered her gaze to it. Her eyes lingered on her father's and mother's faces in the painting for a few breaths, then her eyes reddened slightly.

She carefully rolled up the painting and held it in both hands. "Thank you, Your Highness Nairmis. I will treasure this scene."

Nairmis smiled. He was just about to offer some lofty closing remark when the laws within him suddenly trembled. A godhead was condensing.

Nairmis lowered his head and looked inside himself. The smile froze on his face.

A lesser divinity formed: the lies godhead. He had gained another identity, the God of Lies.

Nairmis's smile collapsed completely. He looked down at his chest, finding it absurd. A lies godhead-were the laws taking a veiled jab at him?

The corner of his mouth twitched slightly. Fortunately, Metis was a second-class god, not a powerful being like Uranus. Otherwise, if a lies godhead had been detected inside him on the spot, what a mortifying social death that would have been.

"Your Highness? You don't look well."

Metis's voice came from in front of him, carrying concern. She had noticed the change in his expression, her hands still holding the painting.

Nairmis immediately wiped away every trace of his expression and returned a gentle smile, his tone light. "It's nothing. Using my divine power just now left me a little tired. There's no need to worry, Your Highness."

He paused, then spoke with a hint of urgency, as though he had suddenly remembered something. "Oh, right, the little sprites back in Proeon are calling me home for dinner. I should head back."

Metis smiled and nodded, saying with great understanding, "Then please hurry home, Your Highness. I'll pay you a visit another day if the opportunity arises."

Nairmis nodded hastily. Without saying anything more, he turned and flew toward Proeon.

Metis stood where she was, watching his figure disappear among the distant mountains.

She glanced down at the painting in her hands. Thinking of His Highness's earlier declaration about inner beauty, and of how he had been willing to take a risk for her despite already being tired himself, she was deeply moved.

His Highness Nairmis was not only beautiful in appearance-even his heart and soul were so pure and lovely.

She put the painting away with great care once more, then turned and walked toward the sea.

Her steps were more composed than when she had arrived. With this painting, she had grounds for peace of mind, as well as a reason to make those annoying fellows in the deep sea restrain themselves a little.

Meanwhile, in the Underworld, three figures were walking slowly toward the Night Divine Domain. The Three Fates walked side by side, their forms shimmering with different lustres beneath the Underworld's dim light.

The souls and living beings of the Underworld watched them from afar, not daring to approach. The auras of three first-class gods drifted through the Underworld's gloomy air, and wherever they passed, others made way of their own accord.

Deep within the Night Divine Domain, the God of Darkness stood quietly beside Nyx's divine throne, calmly watching the three newborn goddesses enter the domain.

Nyx sat upon her divine throne, her gaze resting on her three daughters, her eyes complicated.

Erebus's gaze flickered slightly. His silence held a wordless farewell. It was time to return to the Darkness Divine Domain and sleep.

This period of wakefulness had lasted too long, exceeding his usual cycle. Now, the edges of his body were beginning to blur faintly.

Nyx sensed his gaze and turned her head slightly to look at her husband. A trace of reluctance showed in her eyes, but she did not ask him to stay.

As one of those who governed the River of Fate, she knew better than anyone that the God of Darkness needed sleep to sustain his nature. Forcing him to stay would only weaken his essence faster, so she merely nodded gently.

Erebus glanced at the three goddesses of fate who had just arrived. Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos all bowed slightly to him, smiling as they saw him off.

Then his body began to fade, slowly dissipating from the edges toward the centre, and he disappeared.

Nyx stared blankly at the place where he had vanished. A trace of his presence still lingered in that empty patch of darkness.

It had been a long time since she had watched him leave like this. Every slumber came with a time of return, but also a long wait.

Clotho, the eldest of the Three Fates, took a step forward.

Her voice was a little gentler than it had been at the entrance to the Underworld, like a daughter trying to comfort her distracted mother. "Great Goddess of Night, Her Majesty Nyx, our beloved mother, there is no need for sorrow. Following fate's guidance, you and the God of Darkness will ultimately reunite, never to part again."

Nyx slowly came back to herself. Her gaze fell on Clotho's face, then swept over the other two. They were smiling, their expressions deferential, yet there was no genuine sadness in their eyes.

Suddenly, she found those smiles rather grating. Their words sounded more like a reminder: Your sorrow was written by us, too.

She spoke coldly, the majesty of a primordial god spreading through her voice. "Find somewhere in the Underworld to settle down yourselves."

The Three Fates exchanged glances. The gentle smiles remained on their lips, as though the chill in their mother's words had not affected them at all.

Clotho bowed slightly, her voice still soft. "There is no need to worry, Mother. We have somewhere to go."

With that, the three figures wavered slightly at the same instant. Their forms faded within the Night Divine Domain, silently merging into the void of the Underworld.

Nyx's brows abruptly furrowed. She extended her perception to track where those three auras had gone.

By rights, she had given birth to them, so their auras should have had an unbreakable connection to her.

Yet when she extended her perception, she touched only an empty echo. She could not find them.

Suddenly, her expression changed. Above the River of Fate, the Goddess of Fate bound in layer upon layer of silver threads abruptly opened her eyes.

She looked down toward the bank. The three goddesses of fate were sitting side by side at the water's edge, their postures steady and their faces peaceful, as though they had always been there and had never left.

Seeing Nyx look toward them, they did not rise to pay their respects. They merely smiled calmly and each took up the divine artifact in her hands.

Clotho swept her spindle lightly outward. Shimmering ripples spread across the surface of the River of Fate, and countless silver threads rose from the riverbed, becoming neat and clear after being combed through by her spindle.

Lachesis's ball of thread turned in its wake. In her hands, those silver threads were measured one by one, straightened, guided around tangles, and directed along their respective paths, drifting into the distance along different curves.

Atropos's scissors followed close behind, descending lightly whenever a thread extended to a certain point. The power of fate surged from their hands, and after passing in turn through the three divine artifacts, the invisible power of fate spread throughout the world.

Nyx's restraints tightened another degree. She quietly watched her three daughters' movements, her gaze inadvertently passing over a dark ripple on the river's surface, where she saw a disaster brewing in the distant future.

But bound as she was now, she could not intervene. She could only sigh and close her eyes.

In Proeon, the night was gentle. Nairmis had just sat down beside the campfire.

The sprites formed a semicircle around him, listening as he recounted his experiences in the Underworld in fits and starts. He deliberately made the perilous parts sound a little more lighthearted, and the sprites listened with rapt attention.

When he finished, Nairmis rose and walked toward the nearly extinguished fire. He crouched down to add some dry wood, when suddenly the prophecy godhead within him trembled violently.