Moros's domain wasn't a white marble palace or a hall of glowing calculations and crystal spheres. It was a total void between the stars. A freezing abyss with crushing pressure, where hope died of asphyxiation. Here, there were no variables, no percentages, no "maybes." There was only inevitability.
In the center of that oppressive nothingness, the three deities of the great statistical disaster knelt. They floated above a floor that didn't exist.
Gad was trembling violently. Her golden light flickered like a bulb about to burn out, ready to plunge into darkness. Beside her, Tyche kept her head down. Her hands were clasped together so tightly that her knuckles cracked. For the first time in a long time, the goddess of Fortune couldn't find a way to get them out of this abyss.
Nemesis, on Earth, was a nightmare of shadows and vengeance. Here, she could barely maintain her physical form. Her massive wings of black smoke were plastered to her back, creating a blurred silhouette. She felt humiliated by the overwhelming presence of her superior.
In front of them, the darkness began to condense. It gathered to create a humanoid figure so dense and heavy that cosmic light bent around it, avoiding its touch. Moros, the God of Fatal Destiny, had no face. He didn't need one. His fury radiated with the gravitational weight of a collapsed star.
When he spoke, there was no sound in the traditional sense. The words manifested as ice needles piercing directly into the consciousness of the three goddesses.
[a hound from my personal cage.] The pressure in the abyss spiked suddenly, forcing Gad to let out a muffled groan and shrink even further. [destroyed. it wasn't eradicated by another god. it wasn't cleaved in two by a mythical weapon. it was crushed by a garbage truck because the driver sneezed.]
The silence that followed was unbearable. Moros took a ghostly step toward them, and the temperature dropped far below absolute zero.
"Lord Moros..." Tyche tried to intervene. Her voice, normally flawless and confident, sounded pathetically thin. "The human variable... Gael... has monopolized the causality web in his sector. We couldn't foresee that his mortal mind would adapt so quickly. He has figured out how to use collateral damage as an active shield. The anomaly created a closed loop of—"
[silence!] The shockwave from the telepathic command threw Tyche backward. The goddess of fortune tumbled through the void before barely stabilizing herself, coughing up sparks of silver light.
"Let me go back down!" Nemesis roared suddenly, lifting her face, her eyes burning with wounded pride and blind fury. "That arrogant worm is mocking us. Grant me authorization to manifest physically in his world. I will tear him apart with my own bare hands; there won't be a single cell left for probability to save."
The immense dark figure tilted what would be its head. If Moros could laugh, the sound would have destroyed entire galaxies. Instead, he projected a sensation of absolute disdain.
[you? the goddess who warned him i would come for him, giving him time to prepare?] Moros extended an arm made of pure entropy toward them. [you gave the keys to the universe's engine to a resentful mortal. an insect who thinks he is untouchable. he destroys the infrastructure of an entire city just to save his own skin. you broke the fundamental balance. and for that, olympus will collect its debt from you.]
Moros didn't need chants, celestial tribunals, or rituals. He simply closed his fist of darkness.
The agonizing scream of the three deities tore through the astral silence simultaneously.
Tyche collapsed to the floor, clutching her hands to her chest. The shining silver threads that tied her to the world's probabilities snapped one by one. The pain of going deaf to the flow of chance made her writhe; suddenly, she could no longer see the millions of possible futures, only the cold, boring present.
Gad's chaotic, playful light was sucked out of her body like smoke through a chimney. Her golden aura violently extinguished, leaving her skin pale and her eyes gray, reducing her to the dullness and vulnerability of a frightened human.
Nemesis suffered the most visual punishment. Her massive shadow wings suddenly shattered. They fell like shards of black glass, disintegrating before hitting the invisible floor. Her immense physical power and her authority to mete out justice were destroyed, leaving her weak and trembling, leaning on her hands and knees.
Moros lowered his arm. He had "nerfed" them mercilessly. He stripped them of their omnipotence, turning them into bottom-tier deities, incapable of altering the world on a grand scale. Now, they were little more than spectators trapped in their own mistakes.
"You have... blinded us," Nemesis whispered, spitting out a drop of glowing golden ichor. Her voice no longer resonated with authority; it was barely a croak. "If you take away our direct authority, we can't fix this disaster. We won't be able to stop the human."
The dark figure rose to its full height, casting a shadow over the fallen deities. That shadow seemed to stretch to the very limits of reality.
[you no longer have a role in this play.] The entity focused on a microscopic, remote point in the multiverse. He aimed precisely at the coordinates of a five-star hotel on Earth. [the human believes he has found a loophole in our laws. he believes physics and statistics will be his eternal shield.]
The darkness around Moros began to swirl. It took on sharp, lethal, highly intentional shapes. He would no longer use accidents. He would no longer use blind beasts.
[it is time to remind this world that i do not roll the dice. i am the one who closes the board. from this moment on, i will handle gael personally.]
Meanwhile, in the mortal realm, Gael slept deeply in his bed of Egyptian silk sheets. He knew nothing of the divine judgment or the cosmic storm that was approaching. He was surrounded by wads of cash, breathing with the calm rhythm of someone who believes he has conquered the world.
On the ceiling of his room, the massive Murano glass chandelier suddenly trembled. It was about to break loose from its anchors due to a mechanical failure and crash down on him. In an instant, his luck shifted: a heavy truck drove by outside, the vibration tightened the bolts, and the chandelier was secure once again.
Gael's luck was still working overtime, keeping him untouchable. But he didn't know that, high above the clouds, the real game had just begun. And this time, the house wasn't willing to lose.