Monkey_is_hungry

In the vast cycle of destruction and creation across the omniverse, a wandering soul is fused with a cosmic treasure—granting it eternal reincarnation. Each life is a clean slate, yet echoes of past existences whisper in the depths of its soul.

This time, the soul awakens as Hephaestus, the crippled god of fire and forge. But he refuses to be bound by fate. Through deep meditation, he unlocks the forgotten power of Nirvana, sacrificing his fire divinity to be reborn anew—stronger, unshackled, and more than just a smith of Olympus.

Now, Hephaestus seeks the finest materials hidden across the world, forging legendary weapons and artifacts beyond the gods' comprehension. With each strike of his hammer, a new legend will be born.

Greek Mythology : Hephaestus, He who abandoned fire for craft.

Hephaestus stood before the glowing forge, the newly crafted scissors resting upon the anvil. The blades shimmered with a spectral light, their edges sharp enough to slice through the unseen. Even though the Fates had not yet been born, Hephaestus felt their presence in the making of this weapon.

Destiny had always been an unspoken law among gods and mortals alike. Yet, as he turned the scissors in his hands, Hephaestus realized something—destiny could be defied.

The gods spoke of the Moirae, the Three Sisters of Fate, as if they had always existed. But in truth, they were yet to be born. The threads of destiny were still in their infancy, not yet woven into the grand tapestry of existence. The world still operated under chaos and will, not preordained fate.

And yet… he had forged a weapon that could cut destiny.

That meant the concept of Fate was already present, simply waiting for its caretakers to arise.

"This weapon is not for now," Hephaestus murmured, his voice carrying through the empty forge. "It belongs to an era yet to come."

But that did not mean it was useless. Even without the Moirae, destiny still lingered in the world.

If wielded, it could sever divine decrees, undo binding oaths, and perhaps even free those who were meant to be chained.

Hephaestus exhaled. Such a weapon was too dangerous to leave unchecked. If Zeus or any god caught wind of it, they would either demand it for themselves or destroy it out of fear.

With that in mind, Hephaestus acted.

He took a shard of celestial stone, one of the rarest materials known to gods, and forged a sealed box—one that no god, titan, or primordial could open easily. It bore no keyhole, no seam. To any outsider, it looked like a simple slab of smooth white marble.

Yet within, the Shears of Fate Unborn slumbered, waiting for the day they would be needed.

With a final stroke of his hammer, Hephaestus sealed the box with divine script, ensuring that only when the Moirae themselves were born would the weapon be accessible.

The moment he finished, a shudder ran through the air.

It was subtle, almost imperceptible. But Hephaestus felt the world acknowledge what he had done.

A future was set in motion. The day would come when three sisters, each bound by the duty of weaving destiny, would reach for the weapon crafted before their time.

Until then… it would remain hidden.

No other god felt what Hephaestus had done. Not even Zeus, the ruler of Olympus, nor Hades, the lord of the underworld. The Shears of Fate, their very existence an impossibility, remained a secret.

And so, without another word, Hephaestus took the sealed box, walked to the deepest chamber of his forge in the serpent cave, and placed it upon a pedestal of obsidian.

There it would remain. Untouched, unseen, and unknown.

But one day, when the Moirae were born, Atropos who represent the end of fate shall take it and use it to it's full potential.

Shears Of Unborn Fate