Unwritten Mythos

"God played a game with the devil, and in the end, God was taken to Hell. I played a game with the devil, and I took the devil to meet God."

Splitter chuckled to himself, lost in the strange amusement of his own words.

"Weird... why haven't I hit the ground yet?"

The moment the thought crossed his mind, he plunged headfirst into the sea with a mighty crash.

After what seemed like an eternity underwater, 009 Splitter resurfaced in the vast, boundless ocean, his silver hair dripping in the moonlit waves. Without hesitation, he pulled out the black arrow from his side, aimed toward an unseen point in the distance, and hurled it with precise force.

The black arrow flew through the air with a sharp whistle, cutting through the night. And as it reached its peak, Splitter, with a swift movement, caught it mid-flight and clung to it, letting the arrow guide him to somewhere.

...

Beiling City.

Inside Mei's café, Mei sat comfortably, savoring her coffee. The weather was uncharacteristically pleasant, and the stillness that accompanied the empty café was something she found peaceful.

"It's rare to get such a perfect day," she mused, her eyes wandering to the empty tables. "But where are the customers?"

Just as the thought crossed her mind, something shifted in the air. Mei turned toward the door, her gaze landing on a young man with jet-black hair standing outside, staring directly at her through the glass. Her eyes warmed with curiosity.

A rare visitor.

The man pushed open the door and walked in, his presence heavy, as if it dragged the silence with him. He locked eyes with Mei immediately, his gaze unwavering as he made his way to her table. Without hesitation, he sat down across from her.

Mei offered a faint, unreadable smile, masking the growing tension. "Who are you?"

Enko didn't bother with pleasantries. "Are you pretending not to know me?" His voice cut through the air like a blade. "I saw you. You saw me. Don't act like we're strangers."

Mei's smile faltered. The situation was far from ordinary.

The first time they crossed paths, it had been at Nanyan Hotel's main gate. Though it was a fleeting encounter, Mei remembered it vividly. There had been something about Enko—something that stirred an unfamiliar, magnetic pull within her.

But he shouldn't have known her.

He had come here, clearly, for her. And that unsettled her. She could only think of one explanation: somehow, she had been exposed. But how? How much did he know?

Before she could respond, Enko made his move. He slipped off his jacket, revealing the extent of his madness.

Her eyes narrowed.

Strapped to Enko's torso were rows of bombs, an overwhelming number of them, intricately placed. Each one was wired with precision, ready to detonate at the slightest mistake.

Enko spread his arms casually, as if inviting her to inspect the chaos. "You can try using your threads, Fateweaver. But one wrong move, and boom—everything goes up in flames."

"Don't be fooled by the size," Enko continued, almost amused. "This amount is more than enough to bring down a large building. There are three ways these beauties can go off. One, someone outside triggers them. Two, I die. And three, you make a mistake."

Mei's threads, invisible to the eye, crept closer, her unseen puppets closing in. But Enko's hand shot up, pointing to his ear with an almost playful grin.

"I can hear them. Don't bother," he warned, his tone eerily calm. "I didn't come here to die. I came to negotiate."

He leaned forward, the smirk fading from his face. "Let's talk, Fateweaver."

Hearing those words, Mei raised a single finger, her sharp gaze locking onto Enko. "I hate it when someone tries to threaten me."

Enko shook his head slowly, his expression calm yet resolute. "This isn't a threat, Mei. It's self-defense."

"Of course," he added with a quiet intensity, "if you're not planning to talk, then I'm not planning to leave here alive."

Mei's eyes darkened. If what Enko said was true, the bombs strapped to his body could annihilate her in an instant. Under normal circumstances, controlling his movements without harming him could have been a way out. But as he'd mentioned, there was a remote trigger as well—likely controlled by someone outside.

This meant there was more than one enemy, and the worst-case scenario would be that they were already surrounded. Every word exchanged could be heard by those waiting beyond the café's walls. If Mei made any sudden moves, they would press the trigger without hesitation.

They were daring her to gamble, and she knew they were serious.

"Fine," Mei said, her voice a low hum of measured danger. "Let's talk then. What do you want—or should I say, what do all of *you* want?"

Enko exhaled slowly, as if relieved they had finally reached the point. "We want the monsters to disappear."

Mei narrowed her eyes, her fingers twitching ever so slightly. "Do you think that's possible?"

Enko met her gaze, unflinching. "That's why we're asking. What's the purpose of all this? Why are you doing it?"

Mei didn't answer immediately. Instead, she seemed to drift into a faraway thought. Her mind spiraled back, deep into the past, long before she had even touched the vase that started it all. Back then, she had been reading a book on the nature of gods and humans, pondering over their frailty.

Sometimes, humans were powerless, just as gods could be.

Suddenly, Mei's voice broke the silence. "What's the biggest bet you've ever made?" she asked, her eyes sharp but distant.

Enko frowned, caught off guard by the question. "I don't gamble."

Mei's lips curled into a sad, knowing smile. "The biggest bet I ever made was 330,000. I bet that my mother would live."

Her smile faltered. "I lost."

"I gave the money to the hospital. I put my hope in others, in medicine, in fate. In the end, all they handed me was her death certificate." She let out a small, bitter laugh. "It's a bit tragic, isn't it? Almost funny."

But the truth she had learned then was simple: no matter how hard humans tried, they couldn't control fate. Accidents could rip away the people they loved most. They could do nothing but watch helplessly as Death approached, taking from them what mattered.

"That's human nature," Mei said, her voice growing quieter, more contemplative. "Humans endure. They resign themselves to fate. And the ones who boldly declare 'I control my own destiny'—even they are caught in the web, unaware that fate has already spun their threads."

Mei's eyes flickered with something deeper, darker. "Humans can't change anything. Not really."

"But gods… gods can."

There was a chill in the air as Mei's gaze locked back onto Enko. "The way to defeat Death is to become Death. The way to break destiny is to become destiny itself."

Her smile returned, a twisted reflection of something far larger than either of them.

"Is that reason enough for you?"