Behind the Veil of Fate – The Eyes of Destiny

The Tower of Fate stood as one of the highest points in Orbis, a magnificent structure rising above the clouds. Built from pearl-white stone and supported by spiraling columns that reached for the heavens, its massive walls were adorned with sacred inscriptions that glowed faintly through the night. The tower’s peak was the only place in Orbis that allowed one to observe the entire realm, and within its grand circular hall gathered the Twelve Scribes of Fate.

At the heart of the chamber hovered a luminous orb known as the Eye of Destiny. This ancient mechanism observed the order of Orbis, recording the flow of time and alerting any deviation from its predetermined course. The vast dome above opened to the night sky, giving the illusion of an infinite cosmos. Here, balance reigned supreme—nothing happened by chance, no change occurred unnoticed.

Yet, in this sacred place, an unshakable unease now grew. Shadows rippled along the domed ceiling, ancient flames flickered without wind—manifestations of the discord filling the chamber.

“The number of Voidwalkers is increasing!” Metus, the Scribe of Fear, raised his voice, his words sharp with alarm. “If this continues, Ethereon will collapse under their weight!”

Oblivion, the Scribe of Forgetting, exhaled heavily, interlacing his fingers with calculated composure. “Isolating them is no longer an option. The more they spread, the more they destabilize Orbis’s very foundation. Even if we can’t erase them all at once, we must at least separate them.”

“But yet,” Concordia, the Scribe of Balance, interjected, her expression enigmatic, “We are not executioners. This may not be a destabilizing thing. Maybe this is Orbis’s evolution.”

Vitara, the Scribe of Life, sneered, her muscles rigid as she shot a piercing glare at Concordia. “Evolution? This is destruction, Concordia! They’re not just trying to rewriting fate; they’re trying to obliterate it! Orbis is warping under their presence, and the laws of reality are beginning to bend to their defiance!”

Scientia, the Scribe of Knowledge, adjusted his luminous glasses, analyzing the shifting inscriptions floating above the Eye of Destiny. “The rapid spread of Voidwalkers is unlike anything recorded. If we act recklessly, we may collapse Orbis faster than they will.”

“Recklessly?” Bellum, the Scribe of War, slammed his fist onto the table, his voice a thunderous growl. “They are already organized! They are sabotaging Ethereon’s core structures! Soon, not just the city, but all of Orbis will be under threat! If we do not act now, we will be thrust into a war we cannot win!”

Fatum, the Scribe of Fate, remained composed, addressing the others calmly. “Perhaps this was always meant to happen. Fate is immutable. If Voidwalkers exist, they are part of the grand design, bound to an unknown thread of destiny. We should not interfere.”

A heavy silence fell over the chamber.

Zephiron, the Scribe of Law, took a deep breath, his voice quiet yet resolute. “Debating further is pointless. We must act.”

All eyes turned to Ordo, the Scribe of Order. He held the ultimate authority on the matter. It was his responsibility to maintain the balance of fate. He was the only one who knew the unknown.

Breaking the silence, his voice resonated through the chamber like a decree. “We will act according to the laws of Orbis. The erasure process will be gradual. If we allow all of them to vanish at once, Orbis will suffer a massive imbalance, and then everything will collapse. The erasure process will be woven into the fabric of time—so that the void left behind will be filled at the same pace, ensuring that order is maintained without any perceivable disruption.”

The air in the chamber trembled—a sign of agreement or perhaps a silent surrender to the inevitable.

The weight of this decision settled upon them all. Never before in recorded history had the Scribes faced an uncertainty this great.

As they pondered how to proceed, the Eye of Destiny flickered with an unsteady glow. The inscriptions on the walls pulsed erratically, intertwining golden and silver lights. A sudden distortion rippled through the air.

The Twelve Scribes snapped to attention.

The Fate Guardians, clad in gold-embroidered robes, immediately turned their gaze to the center. As the highest authority in maintaining the flow of destiny, such an anomaly could not be dismissed as a mere coincidence.

“The Eye of Destiny is reacting!” A deep, reverberating voice carried through the hall, sending tremors along the chamber walls.

Zephiron swiftly approached the glowing orb, his face impassive as he examined it. He was tall, with sharp features, dressed in a shimmering silver garment. At first glance, the fabric seemed ordinary, but in truth, it was woven with the Threads of Fate—a highly advanced protective weave. It did not gleam like metal, but under the shifting light, it took on a soft silver hue. As he moved, intricate patterns flickered with pale blue luminescence, forming an almost imperceptible barrier around him. Unlike battle armor, the garment was light and flexible, yet attuned to soul energy—responding to the wearer’s intent.

One of the younger Guardians stepped forward hesitantly. “Master Scribe, I am activating the records.”

The orb’s surface rippled like the sky itself. The glowing stars within it faded, replaced by a hazy image. There, seated in the rain, was a solitary figure. His pale face, disheveled black hair, and distant eyes marked him as an outsider. The reality around him trembled, warping in fleeting distortions.

Zephiron frowned. “What… what is the meaning of this?”

Suddenly, the orb expanded, marking a location on the map—a point near the heart of Ethereon. It flickered softly before inscribing an ominous message:

ANOMALY DETECTED – SOURCE UNKNOWN – ENTITY NOT RECORDED IN FATE’S ARCHIVES.

Another Guardian stepped forward cautiously, his voice careful yet firm. “Sir, this individual’s existence does not appear in Orbis’s records of fate. He may be an entity beyond the system.”

Zephiron’s expression hardened, his gaze locked onto the orb’s trembling light. The young Guardian hesitated before speaking again, his voice uncertain. “The Eye of Destiny rarely issues such severe warnings… This is not a normal occurrence. What could it mean?”

A tense silence filled the hall. Did this signify an unprecedented flaw in Orbis’s system?

The Scribe of Law, Zephiron, exhaled sharply, his voice unwavering. “Observe him immediately. Do not let him slip from our sight. Determine who he is, his purpose, and how he came to be here.”

A younger Guardian, his voice unsteady, swallowed nervously before speaking. “But… he is human. Treating him as an enemy outright… might be a mistake.”

Zephiron’s gaze sharpened, his tone decisive. “This may be yet another trick of the Voidwalkers. Leave no detail unchecked. Find a reason to detain this boy. Inform the Silver Guardians immediately. We will overlook nothing.”

He stepped back, lost in thought. In the history of Orbis, there had never been an error in fate. And yet, the Eye of Destiny itself now faltered.

If this was not a mistake—then what was it?