Atropos asked again, "Does anyone else wish for us to assign their fate?"
No one answered. Every background character stood frozen, shocked by what had just happened.
One hundred extras had vanished in an instant.
I started to understand why Atropos had shown up at the role assignment ceremony. She was here to eliminate anyone who opposed the Sisters' fates. This wasn't just a role assignment anymore—it was an extermination of extras who had disrupted the balance of the story world.
None of us could escape the fate decided by the Moirai. And judging by the near pitch-black threads in Clotho's hands, I was pretty sure death was the only future waiting for us all.
The atmosphere was suffocating. Atropos' brutal example had silenced everyone. No more protests. No more defiance. We were walking toward execution.
I had to find a way to survive. I had to think of something—fast. Lachesis would soon call my number, and once that happened, there would be no turning back.
Characters numbered CI to CC (101–200) had just completed their fate assignment, and as usual, it took forever. Lachesis was so indecisive about what kind of fate to assign, carefully choosing deaths even though, really, everyone was going to die anyway.
Her sluggishness visibly irritated Atropos, who clearly wasn't one for patience. Clotho, meanwhile, yawned widely, betraying her boredom.
After the second group finished, a glowing blue portal appeared before them. We called this the "Veil of Lethe." Every time a fate was assigned, we would pass through the Veil to reincarnate and live out the role written for us.
Atropos ordered the group to walk through one by one. As I looked at the portal, an idea came to me. What if I escaped through the Veil of Lethe?
But no—if an extra entered the Veil without a fate, they would dissolve into nothing. I had to let Lachesis assign me a fate first.
Then the plan struck me: I would wait until Lachesis began assigning my fate, then bolt for the portal the moment she tried to sentence me to death.
The only problem? Escaping Atropos' shears.
The third group, CCI to CCC (201–300), began their assignment. Unsurprisingly, the process was just as slow. Atropos looked increasingly irritated. Clotho started nodding off.
Eventually, the sixth group completed their fates, and now it was my turn.
"Characters DCI to DCCC (701–800), come forward for fate assignment," Lachesis announced, still lacking confidence.
I joined the others and walked onto the circular platform. I glanced at the Veil of Lethe, gauging the distance, planning how fast I'd need to run to make it before the Sisters could stop me.
The portal was close—very close. Hope stirred in me. If I timed it right, I could make it.
Lachesis began her ritual, raising the golden needle. The black thread shot forward, piercing my heart and those of the others.
Death crept closer.
She had just finished assigning fate to character number DCCLXXVI (776): a crab to be crushed under Heracles' foot. (Lucky or unlucky? Hard to say.) The poor guy turned pale at hearing his grim fate.
My time was up.
Now Lachesis looked my way, wringing her hands.
"Next, we will assign your fate... we shall give you... um..."
She clearly had no idea what to do with me. Her mind was a blank.
Come on, just pick something! Hurry up so I can run!
"Sorry... I can't decide what you should become... I want it to be something unique... not repetitive," she said, then asked me, "We have two deaths in mind: being devoured by the Nemean lion, or going insane from a siren's death song and flinging yourself into the sea. Which one sounds better?"
Can I choose neither?
"If you won't help, I'll decide!" she cried. "I can't make up my mind!"
"Give him the siren death and be done with it!" Atropos shouted, fed up with her sister's dithering.
Honestly? I agreed.
Lachesis flinched, tears forming in her eyes. She wiped them away, steadied her breath, and began again.
"Since... our sister... has chosen for you... death by siren... we will assign you... to be a crew member on Jason's voyage for the Golden Fleece... and then..."
The moment she stopped speaking, I ran.
I sprinted for the Veil of Lethe before she could utter the death part of my fate. But then...
Character 776 suddenly collapsed right in front of me. I tripped over his body, crashing to the floor.
He began to morph—transforming into the crab he had been fated to become.
My chance at survival... ruined. Seriously, why now of all times?
"What do you think you're doing?!" Atropos roared across the arena. Her face flushed with fury. She knew I had tried to escape.
Everyone froze in fear—well, almost everyone. Clotho remained emotionless, as always.
Atropos raised her shears, ready to cut my life thread.
Was this it? Was I going to die here?
No. I wouldn't let it end like this.
I glanced at Lachesis. Her hands trembled from Atropos' yelling. Then an idea struck me—one final shot at survival.
I grabbed my life thread with both hands and pulled.
The force yanked the golden needle from Lachesis' hand. It tumbled down to the stage—right near me.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. No one could believe what I had done.
Without wasting a second, I lunged for the needle, raised it high, and shouted:
"O Needle of Lachesis, grant me the fate of the fastest runner alive!"
My legs felt lighter instantly. It worked.
I ran with every ounce of strength I had.
I reached the Veil of Lethe just in time, leaping into the portal the moment before Atropos could cut my thread.
Behind me, I heard her scream in frustration, shouting curses so vile I won't even repeat them here.
Farewell, beautiful goddess. I'm off to be reborn as the fastest sailor on Jason's crew.
And just like that, my thoughts faded into a blinding white light.