Prometheus still hadn’t given up on his goal of changing the King of the Gods’s fate.
Even though things were spiraling out of control, he still needed to try.
Uranus was arrogant and overconfident.
Under the influence of the prophecy, he had thrown the entire world into chaos.
Prometheus didn’t dare to go up and convince him to treat the gods well — saying that oppression would inevitably lead to resistance would be too dangerous…
So Prometheus decided to leave the task of persuading Uranus to someone more “capable,” since he felt he lacked the skills for it.
Looking at the goddess of order before him, full of a sense of justice, Prometheus said quietly:
“Lady Themis, this world has finally turned from chaos into order.
You don’t want the world to sink back into chaos, do you?”
“This doesn’t benefit the world, and certainly not His Majesty the King of the Gods.
But I’m insignificant and can’t stop it, so I have no choice.”
As he spoke, he sighed, looking at the desolate world around him with a pained face, his eyes full of guilt: “Maybe I really shouldn’t have appeared in this world.”
Themis looked at the young man in white before her, noticing his self-blaming expression.
The resentment in her heart quietly faded, and she no longer dared to continue her harsh criticism.
She had also been present at the King of the Gods’s coronation feast and knew very well that Prometheus hadn’t intended to prophesy at first — he kept making excuses, and it was Uranus who forced him to speak.
He had no choice but to comply.
To be fair, Prometheus was also an innocent victim of this disaster.
How could she put all the blame on this innocent victim?
Thinking this, this righteous goddess of order even felt sorry for what she had just said to Prometheus — it seemed too harsh.
The goddess of order wasn’t shy, so she immediately said: “Don’t blame yourself too much.
It’s not your fault.
I was too harsh earlier — I just panicked.
Don’t take it to heart.”
“It’s not a big deal, but looking at this scarred world, I can’t help but feel a little sad.”
Prometheus sighed heavily again: “It’s just a pity that my words carry little weight, and I can’t even see the face of the great King of the Gods…”
“It’s alright, I’ll go talk to the Heavenly Father.” Themis said immediately.
Prometheus immediately showed concern: “But the current King of the Gods might not want to listen…”
But Themis was determined to go.
This goddess wasn’t one of those gentle later-generation goddesses — she was honest and impartial, and her word was law.
As later statues show, she holds scales in her left hand, symbolizing absolute fairness in judgment, and raises a sword in her right hand, symbolizing stern punishment.
The scales represented her righteous character, and the sword clearly showed her outstanding combat power — after all, maintaining justice and order couldn’t rely on words alone…
Seeing this, Prometheus said helplessly: “Alright, then I’ll go with you to the sacred mountain.
Please don’t refuse — I also want to make a small contribution to this chaotic world.”
Now it was Themis’s turn to be surprised.
She looked deeply at Prometheus, her expression shifting slightly, but she said nothing.
Together, they stood before the towering sacred mountain.
Prometheus’s claim that he couldn’t go up the sacred mountain was a lie — Uranus didn’t like him, the god of prophecy.
Unless he came to deliver a prophecy, Uranus didn’t even want to see Prometheus’s face.
So Prometheus could only watch as Themis went up the mountain.
Soon, the voice of the King of the Gods’s anger came from the mountain.
He sternly scolded Themis, accusing her of disobedience and disrespect, and directly banished her from the mountain.
When Prometheus saw the goddess of order again, her offended expression had already turned into despair and loneliness.
Simply because Uranus was too arrogant — he didn’t want to listen to others’ advice and didn’t see anything wrong with his actions.
He was the King of the Gods — the whole world belonged to him.
He could do whatever he wanted — how could he let others interfere?
Themis tried every possible way to correct Uranus’s thinking, but in the end, she was ruthlessly thrown out.
Watching this world gradually collapse under the King of the Gods’s rule, she felt powerless, and this goddess — who embodied the natural order of the universe — felt despair.
At that moment, she heard a soft sigh.
Themis turned toward the voice and saw the young man in white standing beside her, holding out a perfectly white strip of cloth.
“Order will return to this world sooner or later, but the process will be too long.”
Prometheus looked at her seriously and said: “Until then, maybe it’s better not to see.”
Themis stared at him in a daze, momentarily unable to process what was happening.
Prometheus gave her a gentle smile and said: “Don’t be too upset.
Chaos is only temporary.”
“Will order…
really return?” Themis couldn’t help but ask.
In such despair, she didn’t even notice how much her voice was trembling.
“Of course it will.”
The young man spoke with the utmost seriousness, but then his tone changed, and he winked at Themis:
“Didn’t you say it yourself?
I’m the God of Prophets — I know everything.”
Themis was stunned again, but the young man just pressed the white cloth into her hand, pointed at her eyes, then smiled, shook his head, and walked away.
Themis stared at the white cloth in her hand for a long time, then finally sighed quietly and personally covered her eyes with the flawless white cloth.
In such a chaotic world, perhaps only by not seeing could she be less hopeless.
That’s what she thought.
Meanwhile, Prometheus, who had walked away, also felt somewhat helpless.
Although he had expected that Themis probably wouldn’t be able to convince Uranus, when it actually happened, he couldn’t help but feel a little emotional.
This King of the Gods’s fate was truly hard to change!
Fine — if it really couldn’t be done, he could only respect the fate of others.
At this moment, Prometheus still didn’t know how many changes his actions would bring to the world.
At this very moment, on top of the sacred mountain.
Uranus’s face was pale, and his aura enveloped the entire sacred mountain in an oppressive atmosphere.
Themis’s reproach didn’t make Uranus realize his mistake — it only made him feel that these twelve primordial gods were truly dissatisfied with him!
Prometheus’s prophecy echoed in his ears again.
The more he thought about it, the angrier he became.
He stood up in a rage and was about to fly into the sky to smash some stars and vent his anger.
He even decided that this time he would use the stars to hit the sun — that would be very interesting.
But sensing his intentions, the great Mother Earth Gaia appeared just in time and blocked Uranus’s path.
At first, Uranus didn’t want to pay attention to Gaia, but Gaia gritted her teeth and invited him herself.
This was the first time Gaia had taken the initiative toward him since the previous coronation ceremony.
Uranus was instantly delighted — even his search for the children was temporarily set aside.
In this world, the vast sky hung low, tightly merging with the earth, and the breath of desire rose — this was the union of heaven and earth.