ARC 2
CHAPTER 11 — A FUTURE WRITTEN IN BLOOD
Paris Ardent had already survived lightning meant to erase him from existence.
Now the gods were calmly discussing a disaster that hadn’t happened yet.
And they expected him to watch.
Paris Ardent didn’t sleep.
The lightning strike from the night before still echoed in his mind. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the flash of white light outside the apartment window and the glowing screen of his phone.
The message that had appeared afterward.
Observation initiated.
He sat on the edge of his couch with the phone in his hand, staring at the strange chat interface.
The conversation had been quiet for hours.
No new messages.
Just the same divine usernames frozen on the screen.
[Thunder Sovereign]
[Goddess of Fate]
[Blood Saint]
[Abyssal Observer]
[Demon Emperor Baal]
[The Architect]
Paris rubbed his eyes.
“This has to be some kind of prank.”
But he already knew it wasn’t.
The lightning strike had been real.
Exactly at midnight.
Exactly when the message predicted.
He slowly scrolled upward through the chat history.
The conversation stretched far beyond what he expected.
Dozens of messages.
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Hundreds.
Some discussing storms.
Others mentioning wars, disasters, and strange events around the world.
Most of them hadn’t happened yet.
Paris’s stomach tightened.
“They’re talking about the future.”
He kept scrolling.
Then something caught his attention.
A new message appeared at the bottom of the screen.
[Thunder Sovereign]: The iron serpent will fall from its path at dawn.
Paris frowned.
“Iron serpent?”
Another message appeared.
[Goddess of Fate]: The thread has already been woven.
[Blood Saint]: Then the outcome is inevitable.
Paris leaned closer to the screen.
The iron serpent.
It took him a moment to understand.
Then the realization hit him.
“A train…”
His heart started beating faster.
He refreshed the chat.
Another message appeared.
[Abyssal Observer]: Casualties estimated: two hundred and sixteen.
Paris froze.
Two hundred and sixteen.
He swallowed hard.
“Is this real…?”
He quickly searched online for train schedules near his city.
It didn’t take long to find it.
A commuter train.
Departure time: 6:10 AM.
His eyes flicked back to the chat.
[Thunder Sovereign]: The fall will occur shortly after sunrise.
[Goddess of Fate]: The probability remains absolute.
Paris looked at the clock on his wall.
5:02 AM.
His chest tightened.
If the messages were true…
Then the train would derail in just over an hour.
Two hundred people dead.
His fingers trembled slightly.
“Maybe I’m wrong,” he muttered.
“Maybe they’re talking about something else.”
But deep down, he knew the truth.
The lightning strike had proven the chat was real.
Which meant this prediction probably was too.
Paris stood up and began pacing his apartment.
“Even if it’s real… what am I supposed to do?”
He wasn’t a god.
He wasn’t some kind of superhero.
He was just a guy who had somehow been added to a chat he didn’t belong in.
But if he ignored it…
Two hundred people might die.
Paris stopped pacing.
His phone buzzed again.
Another message appeared.
[Goddess of Fate]: The thread remains stable.
[Blood Saint]: Then the event proceeds.
Paris stared at the words.
The thread remains stable.
Meaning fate hadn’t changed.
Meaning the derailment would still happen.
Unless someone interfered.
Paris ran a hand through his curly hair.
“This is insane.”
He grabbed his jacket.
“If this is real… I can’t just sit here.”
He slipped his phone into his pocket and rushed out of the apartment.
The sky outside was still dark.
The streets were quiet as he hurried toward the nearby train station.
His heart pounded with every step.
He kept glancing at the time.
5:31 AM.
Still early.
The station was already busy when he arrived.
Commuters moved through the platform, sipping coffee and checking their phones.
None of them had any idea what might happen.
Paris pulled out his phone again.
The divine chat was still active.
[Abyssal Observer]: The event approaches.
[Goddess of Fate]: The thread remains unchanged.
Paris looked at the train sitting on the tracks.
The iron serpent.
Cold metal stretching across the platform.
He exhaled slowly.
“How do I stop this?”
He couldn’t exactly run up to the conductor and say a group of gods in a chat room predicted a disaster.
They’d think he was insane.
He scanned the platform.
Then an idea came to him.
If the train didn’t leave on time…
Maybe the accident wouldn’t happen.
Paris moved quickly toward the front of the train.
His mind raced as he tried to think of something that would cause a delay.
Something big enough to stop the departure.
But not dangerous.
Just enough to change the timeline.
His phone buzzed again.
He glanced at the screen.
[Thunder Sovereign]: Dawn approaches.
Paris looked up.
The horizon was beginning to glow faintly with early morning light.
He took a deep breath.
“Alright,” he whispered.
“Let’s see if fate can actually be broken.”
And then he stepped forward toward the train.
Miles above the mortal world, unseen by human eyes, the divine chat flickered with activity.
[Abyssal Observer]: The anomaly moves.
A pause.
Then another message appeared.
[Goddess of Fate]: The thread trembles.
Far beyond them all, a final message appeared.
[The Architect]: Observation continues.
And somewhere within the lattice of probability—
The first thread of fate had just begun to break.
What do you think the gods will do next?
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- Variable God Paris
