The goddess of fate, Clotho, who weaves the threads of the future, was quietly observing a fragment of what is to come.
The scene that unfolded before her eyes was one she had gazed upon countless times, waiting patiently for its arrival.
It was Promise's fate—his final chapter.
How could one describe such a vision?
To Clotho, it was akin to a near-perfect answer sheet.
The earth was ablaze.
Or rather, the entire ancient Greek world was engulfed in flames.
In the future that Clotho saw, it was not the sun god Helios guiding the celestial horses that pulled the sun, but an arrogant boy.
This boy was the on Helios, deeply loved by the sun god.
Driven by the mockery and desires of others, the boy had begged his father for the chance to drive the solar chariot.
Even though the sun god tried his best to stop this, he finally softened his heart when he saw the boy crying and reluctantly granted his son's request.
As the boy prepared to take the reins, Helios warned him repeatedly of the dangers, giving him precise instructions.
But the boy, already overwhelmed with joy, paid no attention and did not hear a word.
He arrogantly believed that this was a very simple thing and that he would be able to accomplish the mission of controlling the sun and would be praised by thousands of people from then on.
But the result was that when the young man just drove the sun into the sky, because he did not listen to what the sun god said, he subconsciously looked down at the ground.
Terrified by the height, he panicked and let go of the reins that controlled the celestial horses, unleashing their wild, untamed nature.
The horses, born from the sun's fiery core, began to run amok across the heavens.
Sometimes they soared too high, other times they plummeted dangerously low, refusing to return to the sun god, Helios's side or be restrained once more.
Night ceased to fall, and the sun burned perpetually in the sky.
Under such circumstances, the earth was scorched, its surface cracking under the intense heat. Grasslands withered, forests ignited into flames, rivers boiled, and their waters flowed backward to their sources. Even the boundless sea began to evaporate at an alarming rate.
The gods were at a loss, unable to find a solution.
Finally, Zeus, the king of gods, intervened, striking the arrogant boy down with a thunderbolt and sending him plummeting into the river Eridanus.
Just as everyone believed the crisis was over, the world saved, and the sun god, Helios mournfully stepped forward, enduring the sadness of losing his son, preparing to recapture the rampaging horses...
He appeared.
He seized the opportunity, directing the blazing sun to crash into Mount Olympus.
Clotho watched the apocalyptic scene unfold before her eyes, unmoved.
After all, had witnessed this moment no less than a thousand times.
The sun obliterated Olympus, reducing the realm of the gods to a sea of flames.
The gods fled in chaos.
Amid the turmoil, He found the king of gods, Zeus, defeated him in the chaos, stole his thunderbolt, severed his limbs, and imprisoned him in an eternal abyss where no one could find him.
Clotho observed quietly as the events played out.
She watched as the boy and the goddess of wisdom fulfilled their pact.
"In fact, everyone was wrong."
Clotho murmured softly as she gazed at the future scene.
"His triumph over the monstrous being that terrifies the gods won't be a miraculous feat. It is...
The future written in destiny."
"When he made a pact with the goddess of wisdom, when the goddess of justice tipped the scales in his favor, and when Queen of Heaven, Hera showered him with the love of all the gods... he became the one destined to save both the gods and the world."
Clotho spoke softly as she stepped forward.
The future before her eyes fast-forwarded, rapidly unfolding.
She saw scene after scene.
He drew his bow.
He wielded the thunderbolt.
He stood before Him.
Even though she had seen this countless times, Clotho still smiled gently whenever this moment appeared.
She was happy—genuinely happy—for the young man.
In this matter, she had deceived everyone, even the entire world.
That was, inn the countless futures she had observed, Clotho had never once seen him fail.
Yes, the hero often deemed the weakest and most fragile in all of ancient Greece—the one surrounded by death in every other scenario, was, in this instance, destined to succeed.
No matter what, he would reach the glorious conclusion.
No matter what, he would usher in a grand finale!
Therefore, Clotho always believed this was a perfect answer sheet, the best proof and reward for Promise's efforts so far.
It was also the only fate Clotho had ever felt at peace with for him.
But if it was truly so perfect, why didn't Clotho share this with others? Why did she even deceive everyone, including the goddess of wisdom herself?
The answer was simple: this "perfect" answer sheet was flawed.
Though the flaw seemed trivial and not worth mentioning to Clotho, she was the goddess of the boy's fate.
And because of that, she knew that once the boy learned the truth, he would undoubtedly do something about it.
Clotho trusted him very much but didn't want him to be distracted by this matter.
She didn't want to be the cause of any variables in the young man's destined finale.
Yes, the only flaw in this fate was Clotho, the fate, herself.
Remember the story that was mentioned briefly before?
When Typhon defeated Zeus, he learned from fate that he couldn't kill Zeus outright and was destined to be defeated by him.
Therefore, he captured the eldest and second sisters of the goddess of fate, coerced the youngest goddess of fate to reveal everything, anf demanded a way to break the unchangeable fate.
The delicate goddess of fate offered him the Fruit of the Day.
Because of this, she became the single flaw in the otherwise perfect tale.
"Who would have thought even Sister Atropos would cry?"
In the dim future, Clotho knelt down, trying to wipe away the tears on her eldest sister's face.
Atropos, the eldest of the Fates, governed life itself and had been stripped of emotions, functioning like a true machine.
Yet, this goddess was crying at this moment.
Because in her arms lay a delicate body, someone who had closed their eyes forever.
"Sorry, Sister Atropos," Clotho said, her eyes filled with regret, though her gaze remained firm.
After all, she had seen this future countless times and waited for it for so long.
Therefore, no one can shake that determination anymore..
The future shifted again, and Clotho quietly witnessed the final scene.
She saw him paint his last painting.
She saw him collapse into the arms of the flawless goddess.
No matter how the goddess called out to him, his eyes never opened again.
As she watched the goddess's terror, panic, and eventual breakdown,
Clotho smiled and looked genuinely, happily.
"I'm sorry, Athena," she whispered gently.
"This time... I'm going to be one step ahead of you."
She then stood before the boy, who had closed his eyes forever.
Kneeling down, she held her crystal orb as always.
"I told you," Clotho said calmly, quietly gazing at him.
"I will always watch over you—forever.
No matter the past, present, or future."
"So, please forgive me for this one act of selfishness."
"For this one time... I have to win against you!"
Promise, you made the goddess of fate fall to shame because of you.
These words intertwined Promise's and Clotho's threads of fate, marking the beginning of an ongoing contest between them.
Clotho gazed at the inevitable fate.
Promise worked tirelessly to change the destiny she foresaw.
From her initial anger to compromise, to eventual acceptance, and now, to the love that was apparent to everyone, their dynamic had evolved.
The goddess, who once observed unalterable destinies from afar and inspired fear in all other gods, had been brought to shame time and again since Promise entered her life.
Even now, the gods and Athena acknowledged her loveliness, calling her "adorable."
Yet their contest had continued all this time.
And Clotho had lost every single time.
So… it was about time she finally won.
Clotho opened her eyes, waking from her vision of future fates.
Her gaze returned to blank, sightless white, unable to perceive the present moment.
She knelt quietly in the ancient Temple of Fate, under the "Sky of Fate," where threads of destiny woven from the essence of all living things intertwined above her.
"Clotho, you're back. You've been looking at Promise's fate again, haven't you?"
Beside her, a slightly weak yet teasing voice rang out—it was Lachesis, the second sister among the Fates.
Lachesis, responsible for measuring the length of life, was one of the three sisters.
Though she was an immortal goddess, her health was perpetually frail, like a delicate flower.
Even so, despite being weak to the point where speaking too much might cause her to faint, this second sister never missed an opportunity to tease her beloved younger sibling.
"Clotho, are you sure you don't want me to grab a sack, knock Promise out, and deliver him to you, all tied up?"
"And that unfaithful man, I've been dying to have a word with him, along with sister. Imagine choosing Athena! Such terrible taste. If he'd picked our adorable Clotho, we might already be planning a wedding! Don't you agree, big sis?"
Atropos said nothing, choosing to ignore Lachesis.
She didn't want her sister to ignore her later.
Though, deep down in her heart, Atropos agreed wholeheartedly.
She, too, had considered whether they should just knock Promise out and bring him back in a sack.
"I don't care that Promise didn't choose me..."
"I do!" Lachesis interjected angrily.
"Even a clay figure has its breaking point! We're goddesses, for fate's sake! Do you have any idea how much extra work we've had because of him messing around with destiny? I can't even remember the last time I got to rest!
In the past, I was willing to endure it for my dear little sister's sake, after all, we are family.
But now, he goes off and chooses Athena?!
No, absolutely not! Just talking about it makes me mad. And when I get mad, I... I..."
As she spoke, Lachesis clutched her forehead mid-sentence, feeling faint, and turned to Atropos.
"Quick, catch me! I'm going to faint again!"
Atropos, however quietly stared Lachesis emotionlessly.
She watched as her sister dramatically fainted with a loud thud, collapsing to the floor.
"Well, it's quiet now," Atropos said flatly.
Clotho nodded from the side.
"Indeed, much quieter this way."
"But, Clotho," Atropos continued, turning toward her younger sister, "Are you sure you don't want me to go and bring Promise back?"
All it would take was a single word or even a faint nod from Clotho, and she would leave the temple, armed with a mighty stick, and deliver a righteous bonk to drag Promise back in a sack.
However, Clotho shook her head.
"But he chose Athena, didn't he?"
Seeing this, even the emotionless Atropos was a little puzzled.
Clotho thought for a moment, recalling the countless times she had seen Athena's breakdowns in the visions of fate.
A mischievous smile appeared on her otherwise doll-like face.
"Yes, he did. But... that may not necessarily be a good thing."
The ancient Temple of Fate grew quiet once more after Lachesis's dramatic fainting spell.
Clotho, as always, sat beneath the endless threads of destiny that filled the temple, cradling her crystal orb.
And she waited patiently for the inevitable... the finale.