Urd shook her head. They were goddesses of fate, but that didn’t make them omniscient. Before the Aether, their sight hit a dense fog; they felt its power without knowing why.

That’s why Aphelia is priceless, a lone star in a cloudy sky.

She rose, voice soft, and stepped to Aphelia’s side, fingertips brushing her cheek like a feather.

She doesn’t belong to our world, yet heavy threads bind her to it. More precisely, she’s tied to the Aether. For us, goddesses of fate, this is our first time facing a presence we can’t read.

As her words fell, the Crimson Flame on Aphelia’s brow flared, like something about to be born.

Strange, isn’t it? A goddess of fate who can’t read a single fate.

Urd let out a bitter laugh. Rune power gathered in her palm. She slit her wrist; scarlet blood pattered around the altar like rain. Strange Runes lit and streamed toward the Crimson Fire at Aphelia’s brow.

Odin, if you can, never stand against her. The source of the Aether points to Aphelia. Only with her do you have a chance against that mysterious figure…

As she spoke, a sheath of pure white light rose around her. Her blood, tugged by a force, poured without end into Aphelia’s Crimson Fire.

“Urd, what are you doing?! Why are you pouring your Rune power in? Stop, you’ll die!”

Watching Urd’s mad act, Odin cried out. Belldandy slipped in front of him, scepter thrust forward like a drawn line in sand.

“Belldandy, what are you doing? Move!”

“Stand down, Odin. This is the future Sister Skuld saw, etched like frost. It’s fated.”

Belldandy said it levelly, her scepter steady, without a tremor.

“Odin, maybe this is Urd’s fate. We who read the past always bleed for the future. It was so a thousand years ago, and now again. Let it rest with us.”

Urd smiled as the white light swelled, wrapping her and the altar like a cocoon.

If Aphelia knew what was happening in the waking world, she’d fight to stop Urd’s sacrifice. It was a replay of Enkidu, to the letter.

In Aphelia’s own eyes, what right did she have to make a goddess of fate die for her?

But she couldn’t stop it. Urd’s vast sacrifice catalyzed the Crimson Fire. The Artifact Spirit gestating within finally took shape.

Urd’s form faded into the white glow. At the instant she dissolved, Skuld and Belldandy’s minds blurred. Through the white light, countless images flashed in Urd’s eyes.

“So that’s it…”

She breathed the words as she faded.

“Don’t!!!”

Odin shoved Belldandy aside and lunged to the altar. Urd was gone, scattered to air. In her place, the Crimson Flame on Aphelia’s brow burned fiercer, light pressing to be born.

Crimson Flame burst, and the blast wave flung even Odin back. Scalding fire devoured the altar beneath Aphelia. Her garments turned to ash midair.

That force tore a fault in Niflheim itself. Through the crack, the dead outside already stirred like ants under a stone.

Even so, Odin and the others could do nothing. The Scarlet Inferno around Aphelia was too dire. A lick of its after-flame made Odin feel his soul turning to cinders.

“Aphelia!!!”

With the dead on the verge of spilling into Niflheim, Odin had no choice. Azure Aether surged through him. He shouted to Aphelia and moved to seal the crack, to drive back the endless dead.

His call struck a chord. Aphelia, fused with the crimson sea of flame, snapped awake. Her muddled mind rang like a bell.

“Gather!”

The crimson sea of fire surged to her arms. It circled two points of emerald light and became fresh Bracer Gauntlets.

The gauntlets no longer bore demon masks or human faces. Instead, two starkly different designs that hit like thunder. The right bracer ran wild, with blade-bright side fins. The left stayed composed, rounded and clean, defense made flesh.

Aphelia’s body was wrapped in silver-white armor. Crimson sigils coiled over it like roaring dragons.

Most arresting of all were the two girls floating behind her—alike, yet opposites. They wore deep-crimson Eastern garb. They hovered at Aphelia’s side like exquisite dolls.

As they stared, an undead forced itself through the crack into Niflheim. Its arrival stalled the realm, like a clock catching on grit.

“Dammit…”

“Get out…”

Before Odin or Belldandy could finish, the Crimson Flame had burned the undead to nothing, like paper in a furnace. The crack in Niflheim was mended by the girls behind Aphelia. After the work, they drifted back, eyes closed, heads bowed.

“Easy… it’s handled.”

Aphelia smiled at the two, stunned dumb. She lifted a hand to wave before their eyes, like a leaf testing the wind.

“Wait, wait! Miss Aphelia, how did you even do that?!”

Before Odin could speak, Belldandy rushed in, suspicion writ clear. She raised her scepter like to ward an enemy.

“Hey, easy. I only roasted a dead guy…”

Aphelia raised both hands to show she had no intent. The two girls in deep-crimson garb snapped their eyes open. They glared at Belldandy, ready to strike like cats over a fishbone.

Seeing the tension spike, Odin crushed down shock and grief. He hurried in and pulled them apart, prying two storm fronts.

“Belldandy, rein it in! Urd didn’t die to indulge your temper!”

“Aphelia, you too. Your… your Artifact Spirits—have them stand down.”

Fresh awake, Aphelia stared, baffled. She hadn’t done wrong, but after Urd’s sacrifice, wariness from them was only human.

“Fine. I probably blacked out while everything went to hell. Odin, tell me the whole thing, from root to crown.”

Aphelia sighed, helpless. She dropped any hard edge; they weren’t enemies.

But Belldandy couldn’t bear it. She snorted coldly and turned away. Out of sight, out of mind.

“Sigh. What did I do to be this hated…”

Even Aphelia felt at a loss for words. Luckily Odin guided her aside, toward the roots where Skuld wove threads. He began to lay out what had happened, thread by thread.

“So… that’s it. For a so-called future, their sister who holds the past gave herself to your Crimson Fire. So she is like this. They walked a thousand years together; it’s nearly blood.”

After his explanation, Aphelia let out a heavy sigh.

She still couldn’t grasp why those who glimpse the future, or other times, would spill themselves for her without hesitation. Was she strong now? Yes.

Since gaining her Artifact Spirits, Aphelia felt it clearly. Her power had surpassed the level of a True God. Not just her weapon—her body and soul were tempered. She even felt ready to go all-out against Sigdrifa.

Her master, the woman called Valkyrie but not a Valkyrie—Mist Bloom. Who was she, really?

Why did she grant Aphelia the Crimson Fire? Her revival, and this strength, came largely because that Crimson Fire forged her soul.

Inside fog this thick, Urd and Enkidu—what did they see, to die for her? Enkidu had said it was for humanity’s era. But Urd? Was it to reclaim the Asgardian Realm?

It sounded plausible, but deep down, Aphelia couldn’t accept it, like a stone in her shoe.

“She erased her chance at rebirth, completely. From now on, besides the two goddesses and the two of us, no one will remember Urd. At the world’s Origin, the piece that was Urd got wiped by her own hand. In trade, you gained the two human-like Artifact Spirits behind you.”

Odin looked at the girls floating behind Aphelia and sighed.

The power flowing off them said they weren’t weaker than Aphelia. Whether they held Runes or other gifts was unknown. Odin chose to believe they did; they were stars off any chart.

“So that’s how it is… I’m sorry. I don’t know why Urd would die for me. Maybe it’s harsh, but if I’d been awake, I would’ve stopped her…”

“No need. It isn’t your fault. I know that, and Belldandy knows too. We were just venting—weak, useless anger, smoke without fire.”

Odin gave a bitter smile and shook his head. A sheen gathered at the corners of his eyes.

“Urd… did she leave a wish? If it’s to revive the realm…”

“Yes, we must revive the realm. But that can wait. Come with me first. Let’s finish what brought us to Niflheim, tie off the torn seam.”

Before Aphelia could finish, Odin was already striding toward the river like a gust.