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They were daughters of Erebus, the darkness of the primordial gods, and Nyx, the Goddess of the Night, responsible for spinning and weaving the fates of the gods and the world alike.

The eldest sister, Clotho, was the spinner of fate, the goddess who presided over the destiny of people at birth. Her Divine Office was to personally take the threads of people\'s fate from the loom of destiny and hand them over to her younger sister, Lachesis.

This deciding goddess of fate would measure the threads with her ruler, passing along the events of varying lengths to the youngest sister—Atropos, the ender of fate.

At last, the goddess Atropos, with her sharp scissors of fate, would cut the threads, completing the determination of a being\'s destiny.

The semi-visible threads of fate, interwoven and entangled under the starlit dome of the temple, sketched out an incredibly complex network, linking the beginnings and ends of all things in the world.

Even Zeus, the Divine King, upon beholding this vast and arcane display of might and information, couldn\'t help but feel his spirit waver.

"Son of Kronos, you are not in Olympus, solidifying your divine authority. What brings you to our temple in the dead of night?"

The harmonized voices of the Fates, ancient and young alike, echoed in the darkness, looking down upon the ruler of the Age of Greek Gods beneath the starlight.

Zeus, being the Divine King, was not displeased; instead, he humbly bowed and placed his hand on his chest, asking in a deep voice.

"Respected The Three Fates, I wish to know if the curse of the Titans still exists?"

"You have asked us more than once, and no matter how many times you repeat the question, the answer remains the same."

Three voices, both ancient and young, responded calmly in unison, and upon three faces that ranged from unripe to mature, then to withered, there wasn\'t the slightest ripple of emotion.

"Son of Kronos, even you cannot eradicate the curse within this bloodline. Do not waste your energy on this predestined futile endeavor."

Upon hearing this, Zeus\'s expression darkened involuntarily.

The origin of the Titans lay with Uranus, the Father of Heaven, who coined this nickname for his progeny, meaning "The Frightened" and "The Rebels," for it was their destiny to rise against their forebears with swords, enacting the divine coup that was the changing of the guard among the gods.

This curse was not escaped by grandfather Uranus or by father Kronos.

And now, it was his turn.

Zeus\'s expression fluctuated, his gaze shifty.

"Yet, you are the king destined by fate, who shall surely lead this world into a golden age of splendor!"

The voices of The Three Fates, old and young, declared solemnly, their six arms manipulating the threads of fate, which traced what seemed to be the shape of a crown on the dome above.

"Follow the arrangement of fate; it will not become an obstacle for you."

Zeus nodded slightly, preparing to leave when suddenly, as if something crossed his mind, he turned back to look at The Three Fates under the starlight and spoke.

"By the way, Semele, the princess of Thebes, my love who has just conceived my seed, I wish to know their fate."

"Their fate... their... fate... fate..."

The once orderly chorus became slightly discordant, repeating the question as though trapped in a sort of glitch.

After a good while stuck, The Three Fates slowly answered from the ephemeral shadows of two broken threads of fate that they had pulled from the void.

"They... are dead..."

Upon hearing the dreadful news, Zeus\'s face changed, and instantly he blasted out of the palace of The Three Fates as a bolt of lightning, rushing toward the direction of Thebes, his panic as both a husband and a father on full display.

However, after flying some distance from the Temple of Fate, the Divine King directly turned around and flew toward Olympus.

In the empty Great Temple, the sacred fire had been extinguished.

The tumult was no more; all the dust had settled.

Standing at the door, Zeus glanced at his own majestic throne, the tension on his face gradually relaxing. He casually closed the door to the Great Temple and arose to return to his private chamber.

Creak~~

A gust of wind blew through the crack of the door, swirling into the room as the ashen remains of the torch crumbled, revealing a flicker of dark red underneath.

Pfft~~

A flame leapt up, the dead ash reigniting in the darkness.

At the same moment, on a desolate plain shrouded with death, a purple-haired goddess with her face veiled seemed to sense something and gently lifted her delicate lips.

"Indeed, a game of chance, unpredictable in its outcome, proves far more intriguing than immutable fate. For a game, there must be both winners and losers..."

Her pale fingertips released, and twelve serpentine-patterned dice traced a graceful arc before tumbling toward the ground.

~~~

As the heavens turned and time passed, sixteen years went by in the blink of an eye.

Near the Sea of Okeanos, on the island of Aiaia.

The salty sea breeze wafted through the lush, verdant forest of a small hollow, and the rustling leaves caused three ghastly heads, black and green in hue, to instinctively stop tearing at their prey and abruptly look up, pairs of vertical, serpentine eyes warily surveying their surroundings.

"Baa~~"

The dying goats on the ground, pained under the monster\'s cruel claws, let out pitiful cries as blood spurted from their deep, bone-exposing wounds.

The rich scent of blood instantly regained the lakeside creatures\' attention. The heads swung back, colliding and grunting at one another as they tore into the prey on the ground, quickly silencing the screams.

Dragon-like but somewhat smaller in size, measuring between 10 and 20 meters in length, possessing only hind limbs with talons suited for flight, their wings scaled and feathered, tails with reversed barbs, they bore the dual lineage of both dragons and griffins.