Scene 1 — The Shore of the River
The River did not roar.
It moved in silence.
Tenebris stood at its edge, barefoot on black domain-stone layered with ancient contracts worn smooth by time rather than erosion. The surface did not shift beneath him. It did not give.
Beside him stood Thanatos.
No scythe.
No armor.
Only presence.
The River shimmered before them—liquid starlight threaded through shadow. Souls entered from unseen channels. For a breath, each retained shape.
Then—
Memory separated.
A fine veil rose upward toward the higher current where the River of Fate shimmered faintly beyond Underworld authority.
The remaining essence thinned.
Aligned.
Returned.
Ten frowned.
"They don't stay."
"No," Thanatos replied.
Another soul entered. Processed. Released.
"This is the Golden Cycle," Thanatos continued. "Mortals are born near the cusp of divinity. What later generations will call immortals."
Ten studied the flow.
"They die and come back."
"Yes."
"They forget."
"Yes."
"And Fate remembers."
Thanatos looked upward toward the faint shimmer.
"The River of Fate stores what is removed. Every life. Every deviation."
Ten narrowed his eyes.
"You don't control that."
"No."
A soul slowed in the current.
Instead of dissolving fully, it drifted downward into a darker tributary.
It did not resist.
It settled.
Its outline thickened.
Ten leaned forward.
"That one."
"Compatible," Thanatos said. "It resonates with death-law."
The shape stabilized.
Not mortal.
Not divine.
"A Dead Spirit," Thanatos said. "Not imprisoned. Not elevated. Aligned."
Ten watched carefully.
"So you don't keep souls."
"We process them."
Ten hesitated before asking the question that mattered.
"Can someone stop them from returning?"
Thanatos was silent for several breaths.
"Yes."
"How?"
"You would have to end the True Soul."
The River did not react.
It simply continued.
Ten looked at his hands.
Black flame flickered faintly.
He understood something then.
Everyone else reset.
He might not.
"You are not here to rule the dead," Thanatos said quietly.
"You are here to understand why they move."
The River flowed on.
Scene 2 — Eris
The Quiet Floor did not feel like a classroom.
It felt like a verdict chamber.
Juris stood behind Tenebris.
Silent.
Observant.
Eris paced in a slow circle around them, her movements light but deliberate. The domain did not reject her presence. It tolerated it.
"Juris," she said lightly, "stay quiet. Only Bris will answer this question."
Ten's jaw tightened slightly.
"What is the difference between mortals and divinity?"
Ten answered without hesitation.
"Mortals are beings who have not reached Minor God rank. Most mortals of the Golden Cycle are naturally First-Order—bordering Demi-God status."
Eris tilted her head.
"And gods?"
"Gods are born above that threshold. We are separated not by effort, but by the laws and concepts we are born into."
Eris smiled faintly.
"And what does a mortal seek?"
"To ascend."
"And what does a god seek?"
Ten hesitated only briefly.
"To defy Fate and fracture the purpose they were born with."
The contracts beneath the floor pulsed faintly.
Eris' smile sharpened.
"A natural God King?"
"One whose fate is anchored in inevitability—Hades, Zeus, Poseidon."
"And a pseudo God King?"
"A god who defied Fate without possessing the complete essences required to evolve their soul to true God King tier. Defiance at the cost of certainty."
Eris stopped pacing.
"And you?"
Ten's voice steadied.
"Axis points streaming from Hades."
Juris' eyes flicked upward.
"When Zeus broke taboo," Ten continued, "he opened leverage for Hades and Poseidon."
He did not lower his gaze.
"We are not tied to myth."
The chamber darkened slightly.
"We are Fateless."
Eris' expression shifted — not pride.
Interest.
"Able to close this cycle," Ten finished quietly.
"Or doom it to loop forever."
Eris laughed softly.
"Good," she said.
"Now try surviving that."
Scene 3 — The Threads
The Sisters did not enter.
They manifested.
Fatí stood at the center, gaze calm and measured.
"To decide the fate of an entity," she said, "we must first read their past."
A mortal soul hovered briefly between them, freshly processed.
"If their thread aligns with the most suitable outcome…"
One sister extended a blade of conceptual light.
"…then we cut."
The filament toward Fate snapped.
Then regrew.
Seamless.
Ten stepped forward.
Black flame formed in his palm.
Not wide.
Not dramatic.
Precise.
He touched the thread.
It recoiled violently, attempting to reconnect.
Ten tightened his fingers.
The flame devoured it entirely.
This time—
It did not return.
The higher current shimmered sharply.
Fatí did not smile.
"Do not be encouraged too quickly, Young Lord. You are only Third-Rank Minor God."
Thanatos stood nearby in mortal form, his scythe resting as a black crow.
"Your connection to the End is stronger than any Death God I've seen," he said quietly.
His gaze lifted toward the higher River.
"But Fate favors those who resist her."
He looked back at Ten.
"That makes you dangerous."
Fatí's voice remained even.
"We are limited at this level. Khaos must negotiate with Fate before we move."
The Underworld tightened subtly.
"If we act too quickly, we reveal ourselves."
Ten felt the weight of that.
Strategy.
Timing.
Patience.
Scene 4 — The Command
The Scriptorium dimmed as the Throne Hall pressure descended.
Juris sat before his Divine Book.
Eris stood behind him.
The door did not open.
Hades was simply present.
The archive bowed in silence.
"You are forbidden," Hades said evenly, "from allowing your brother to read your Divine Book."
Juris did not look up.
"Yes, Father."
"After gathering the Four Divine Books—Memory, Past and Present, The Dead, and The Inevitable—only Fatí, Eris, and the future Queen of the Afterlife may access them."
The shelves vibrated faintly.
"The Book of All Creation," Hades continued, "is the personification of Lady Persephone."
The air grew heavier.
"Without her intervention, Zeus consuming Metis would have erased the Book of Memories."
Juris' fingers tightened slightly.
Hades' gaze sharpened.
"Reread the section titled 'Where Madness Begins.'"
A pause.
"We will decipher it together."
His eyes shifted briefly toward the direction of the Quiet Floor.
"On the condition you never speak of it to Tenebris."
The command settled like iron.
Juris nodded once.
"Yes, Father."
Hades turned to leave.
Before vanishing, he added—
"Madness begins when one believes they stand outside of fate."
Silence filled the archive after he departed.
Eris exhaled slowly.
Juris stared at the page.
Because blades end what they touch.
But ledgers decide what ends.
And the River of Fate shimmered faintly above them all.
Watching.