Myth: The Ruler of Spirituality

Zeus, of course, had no idea what light was, but someone had already figured it out for him.

At this moment, Apollo, whom the Divine King had been obsessively thinking about, was not in any other place but on Mount Olympus, in front of what had once been the grand entrance to the Temple of the Sun God.

The silver doors had long since collapsed, and, beneath the broken remnants of the ruined temple, a wheel shimmering with a golden aura revealed a corner edge. The Divine Artifact lay overturned here, buried under rubble, and despite looking somewhat pale, a flicker of joy mixed with confusion passed through Apollo's eyes as he gazed at the scene before him.

The Divine Artifact that appeared here was undoubtedly the Chariot of the Sun. This tool, originally used by Helios to control the great day, had also been briefly utilized by Apollo, but as the God of Sun advanced into a realm of more powerful Divine Power, this artifact was, in fact, shelved.

The reason was simple, for the God of Sun, the artifact was actually a symbol of disgrace, at least that's what Helios had always believed. The existence of the Sun Chariot verified the days he was imprisoned by his father—it was that period that left him with insufficient Divine Power, so much so that he, a Sun God, actually needed the help of an artifact to exercise authority.

And afterwards, it became a product of threats from Cronus, witnessing the dark past of Helios.

Therefore, when he could easily wield the sun on his own, the Sun Chariot was naturally abandoned by him, left inside the Temple of the Sun God on Mount Olympus. And since The King of All Monsters who attacked the Mount of the Gods had no interest in such things, it ultimately remained within these ruins.

Until today, when light was obscured and the land fell into darkness. Recovering from the excruciating pain of the damaged Origin, Apollo seemed to sense a mysterious guidance, which led him here, back to Mount Olympus.

What puzzled him, though, was that while he had found the source of the attraction, what did it have to do with him?

"Who's there?"

Lost in thought, as if sensing something, Apollo's gaze hardened, and he suddenly turned around.

The silver bow was drawn into a full moon, and resplendent light converged at the tip of the arrow.

In the direction he aimed, an old woman of a wretched and ugly countenance had appeared, as if out of nowhere.

"Do not rush, cough cough, son of Zeus, excellent archer Apollo, I am not your enemy,"

"As you can see, I am Atropos, a craftsman who snips the threads of fate. That we meet here is guided by destiny,"

A trembling hand holding a staff, Atropos offered a smile, but to others, this smile seemed more of a threat.

"You are naturally sensitive to the fluctuations of fate, and that is why you have come here. The sun has met with disaster, but the Mortal Realm cannot be without Light, you, son of Zeus, are the Deity who brings Light to the Mortal Realm."

"... You better be speaking the truth, self-proclaimed Deity of Destiny."

After a moment of silence, although Apollo did not trust the other's goodwill, he still lowered his bow and arrow, for his senses told him the Divine Power of the other was not formidable.

And indeed, as the other had said, Apollo was indeed more sensitive to fate than others—it had always been so in the original myths.

Just like Themis, Phoebe, Gaia, and the others, Apollo had once held the Oracle Stone Tablet, earning the revered title God of Prophecy. Even though the he of today would never have the chance to touch this Divine Artifact again, this innate gift had not disappeared as a result.

"Not 'hold' destiny, Apollo, I'm but a craftsman who snips it—simply following the pattern; that's my work. Fate always has Its own course; if I act recklessly, the sharp blade of the scissors will only wound myself,"

Atropos subtly shook her head, correcting Apollo's mistake.

"Perhaps, but whatever it is, why have you come?"

Speaking indifferently, Apollo was neither here nor there about it.

"Of course, I've come to help you," offered Atropos with a chuckle, undisturbed by Apollo's coldness: "And incidentally, to prevent destiny from straying any further."

"The world cannot be without the sun, just as the earth cannot be without Life. That is why I have found you, Apollo. Apart from Helios, who has betrayed the world, you are the one most suited to drive the Sun Chariot."

"...But I have driven it before, and the results were not very good. Besides, haven't you forgotten something?"

The tall and handsome Deity reached out, and the Divine Artifact buried under the disarray flew out into the open.

Like an endless light source, the body of the chariot—the yoke, the axle, the wheel—shone like gold, and the spokes of the wheel gleamed with silver. The bridle intended for the beasts was inlaid with pristine gemstones; the artifact had not been damaged in the previous catastrophe.

But pointing at the Chariot of the Sun, Apollo bluntly retorted:
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"That is a chariot frame—and a chariot frame itself has no power. It is a means to harness the sun, not a source that brings Light and heat to the Mortal Realm. That is the role of the Sun itself, so even if I can use it, where is the other 'Sun'?"

"That is precisely why I am here, Apollo, to guide you swiftly out of this Solar disaster. The Sun you seek, your Sun, it lies right here on this Mountain, in your father's treasury. Typhon had no interest in these articles, only you are their destined master."