Fate of Fateless

Far beyond the embattled Hepton estate, the tremor of halted time did not go unnoticed. The world may have resumed its pace, but those with power—true power—felt the ripple as more than coincidence. Across the Empire, the other Three Ducal Houses stirred, their instincts awakened by something ancient and wrong. None could say for certain what had happened… but each suspected the same unspoken truth:

Something had been born.

House Caldras – The Blade Dukedom (North)

The snows had paused mid-fall. The winds that howled eternally over the mountain ridges had stopped dead.

Duchess Valeria Caldras, in the midst of a war council, felt it before her commanders did—a hollow stillness behind her ribs, as if her heartbeat had missed a step.

"What was that?" one general muttered.

Valeria's gaze remained on the horizon, toward the direction of the central provinces—where the Hepton estate lay hidden among hills and wards.

She said nothing for a long while. Then quietly:

"Either a god just died… or something worse has happened."

But no one dared answer.

She wasn't making a claim.

She was asking a question no one knew how to answer.

House Vaelwyn – The Arcane Dukedom (East)

The floating city of Aethermere shuddered for exactly 3.7 seconds, as if caught between ticks of reality.

In the Skyvault Chamber, Archduke Lysien Vaelwyn stepped back from his starlight mirror, frowning. His apprentices scrambled to measure time dilation fluctuations—but none could explain the sudden drop in astral resonance.

One projection floated above them all—a distorted point of energy, swirling with both divine rejection and unknown acceptance.

"A temporal rupture?" one magister asked.

Lysien shook his head. "No. A judgment… paused."

He turned to the senior diviner. "Where was the anomaly centered?"

The answer was a whisper: "Southwest, near the Hepton lands."

The archduke didn't reply. His fingers tapped the crystal focus in thought.

"A phenomenon like this… it could be a birth.

But who—what—would the universe try to stop from being born?"

House Morgrave – The Silent Dukedom (West)

In the ever-dark chasm city of Vel Noctis, the shadows themselves recoiled for a brief moment.

The Hall of Murmurs, where secrets were etched into chains of silence, went deaf.

Blind Duke Ravonn Morgrave sat unmoving, his empty eye sockets facing the stone walls. He did not need sight. His senses extended beyond mere vision.

"It passed," he said to no one. "But it left something behind."

From the vaults below, a cursed oracle screeched—a single word before silencing itself:

"Born."

Ravonn leaned forward.

> "We are not certain it was the child," he muttered. "But the timing… the place… it aligns too well."

Still, he did not declare it truth.

He dispatched a whispercrow not with judgment—but with inquiry:

"Watch the Heptons. Observe, do not act. We don't yet know if what's come into this world is a savior… or a sentence."

The Ducal Conclave (Private Channel – Emergency Link)

In the deep hours of that same night, the four seals of the Empire's highest families were activated.

Hepton, Caldras, Vaelwyn, and Morgrave appeared as astral projections across a shared scrying circle—each cloaked in shadows, their expressions unreadable.

None accused.

None confirmed.

Each had felt it.

Each had guessed.

None dared be certain.

Valeria was the first to speak.

"The anomaly originated near your estate, Hepton. Can you confirm anything?"

Hepton's voice was low, guarded.

"My son was born minutes before the phenomenon."

Lysien arched a brow. "Do you believe they are connected?"

A long pause.

Hepton finally said, "I believe… the world believes so."

Ravonn chuckled softly. "Then the question becomes: Does gods fear this child?"

No consensus was reached that night. Only quiet, grim contemplation.

For though the world had resumed…

It was not the same anymore.