Three Divine Wishes: Yes, I'm OP!

Across the vast expanse of Pantheos, from the Pantheons that ruled humble worlds to the grander reaches of entire Galaxies, there was something beyond the rigid Hierarchies that united them all.

Locks, Trackers, and Curses crafted for specific affinities were prized artifacts, coveted by every structured faction whose influence rose above mere world power.

These items could seal an affinity’s manipulation, trace the one who wielded it, and even lay a curse upon them.

Needless to say, their significance was beyond question.

And now, across the last two continents still under control, the three Apostles of the Dark Thorn had already set all three of these fearsome artifacts into motion.

----

They floated high above the jagged border that divided the continents, the reddish-yellow light of the four suns casting long shadows across their dark robes and cold, perfect faces.

From this height, the dividing line of cracked earth and sparse copper-leafed forests stretched out like a scar, the air thin and metallic, carrying the distant scent of death and old blood.

One of them spoke first, voice low and edged with irritation.

"That white-haired human with the blindfolds... how did someone like that move across our world for four years without a single report reaching us?"

The second Apostle’s eyes remained fixed on the horizon.

"More importantly, what does he want? I hardly believe that random chaos for his own sake is something he would waste ample time on."

The third, the highest ranking of the three, answered with quiet calculation.

"It matters not.... As our goal remains unchanged. In eighty-five years, this world is to be hollowed completely, its resources and residual power used to strengthen the Pantheon."

Much like their philosophy suggested, the Dark Thorn hadn’t spent five trillion years on this world merely waiting—they had been focused on something far more important.

Supreme Divinity.

While Divinity was something all beings were born with as a source of fuel—and more than that—Supreme Divinity was different.

It came into existence only with the creation of a Pantheon and could be accessed solely by its rulers.

In essence, Supreme Divinity was nothing more than plot armor, making it the highest priority for every faction.

The Third paused before continuing.

"Yet something about this star system has always felt wrong. With the devastation caused by the Celestial and Dead Sun Pantheons... it shouldn’t have taken five trillion years to reach this point."

They all knew that claiming worlds varied in difficulty but never took more than a few tens of thousands of years.

Yet during this time, not only had the Dark Thorn, a member of the Assimilation Accord, but also others found themselves in this star system—several other Pantheons each pushing their own Philosophy.

And all of them were waiting for the same deadline.

HUMMMMM!!!!

As the words settled, the air in front of them shimmered.

Far below, across the two still-controlled continents, the artifacts they had placed using the Pantheon’s influence activated in perfect unison.

A subtle pulse of absolute authority rippled outward—Locks sealing regions against fate manipulation, Trackers awakening, and the Curse lying in wait for the moment its target revealed themself.

All three Apostles turned at once, gazes sharpening as the Tracker fed them a precise location.

Without another word, they moved, vanishing from the upper sky in coordinated streaks of shadow and darkness, already racing toward the source of the disturbance.

-----

High above one of the controlled continents, Jovian hovered in the thin metallic air, his white hair drifting in the hot currents.

Currently, both of his hands were raised as he reached for the dense web of fate threads that bound the land below, expecting the familiar sensation that always came when he severed a knot.

The easy smile already forming on his lips reflected the confidence of someone who had done this countless times without resistance.

HUMMMMM!!!!!!

"What... was that?" He questioned it the moment he pulled; the threads remained rigid and unmoving, as if the entire continent had been locked inside a cage he could not see.

The sudden refusal of his powers itself made his expression freeze as cold, creeping confusion slid through his chest.

HUMMMMM!!!!!

Before he could process the impossibility of it, a crushing weight slammed into him with the force of a collapsing world.

This silent, invisible blow tore through his existence.

And in this moment.... it dragged his total power output down from Tier 30 to Tier 24 in a single suffocating instant, forcing a sharp tremor through his limbs as genuine shock broke through the playful mask he wore so easily.

Instantly, he turned his Eyes of Heaven inward, forcing himself to read the fate lines connected to his own being. The truth revealed itself with cold, merciless precision.

"A Fate Lock... Tracker... and Curse?" he asked, his face paling slightly as the unfamiliar terms sank in. He had never heard of such items before, and the unease gnawed at him.

Delving deeper into the threads of his own fate, he uncovered more details; even though the continent’s destiny was sealed, his own path remained visible to him, clear as day through his eyes.

"These shitty elves..." he muttered under his breath, summoning his status screen with a thought.

"How much to break this curse?"

The prompt materialized before him, its oppressive weight pressing down on him and making his stomach churn.

[Cost: 40,000 Divinity]

At this moment, since his recent ranking up... he had a little over 50,000 Divinity, and breaking the Curse would leave him dangerously low, while the Tracker still needed to be dealt with.

The hesitation that followed lasted only a heartbeat, yet in that single heartbeat the world shifted again.

Ten thousand kilometers away, the air shimmered with concentrated darkness as the three Apostles of the Dark Thorn appeared in perfect formation.

Their presence pressed against the sky like a closing fist, and the moment they arrived, their combined authority surged outward in a wave that made the atmosphere feel thinner.

[Dark Thorn Volley (Above Origin) (Tier 21/21)]

HUMMMM!!!!!

In that moment, the trio didn’t activate an innate power... but a skill.

It erupted without warning, the darkness around them shaping itself into hundreds of arrows that formed in absolute silence before locking onto Jovian’s position with predatory precision.

WHOOOOOSH!!!!!!

WHOOOOOSHHHH!!!!!

Instantly, the arrows launched in a single coordinated storm that required no aim... nor adjustment.

As the volley rained down, Jovian snapped his head upward, instinctively reaching to sever his own fate thread.

Yet, though he had been able to see his fate, he still couldn’t touch it—Fate itself was locked across the entire continent.

The realization hit him in that fleeting instant, a sick weight pressing against his chest.

"Well... damn," he muttered with a wry smile, bracing for impact.

SHKKKK!!!!!

SHKKKKK!!!!

SHKKK!!!!!!

The arrows landed with brutal precision—one pierced his chest, sending a violent tremor through his spine.

Another tore through his skull in a burst of hot pressure that made the world lurch sideways....

While a third ripped through his lower body, the combined force of three Apostles, their output slightly surpassing his weakened state, driving the projectiles clean through.

The impact sent blood spraying across the sky in wide arcs as his body went limp, beginning the long fall toward the continent below like a corpse already claimed by death.

The Third Apostle watched the descent with cold satisfaction, her expression unchanged.

"Retrieve him," she said, her voice calm and absolute as the other two shifted in silent acknowledgment. "Bring him back to the stronghold. He still has questions to answer."