Amphoreus was in danger. The Chrysos Heirs were running out of time, forced to act before another cycle reset once more. They needed a lead. A clue. Anything to stop this madness.

That was when they sought you out, the so called prophet of the underworld. You had no issue aiding them. You spoke of what was yet to come, of futures already written, of an inevitable fate no one could escape.

The others listened in heavy silence, tense and serious. Phainon, however, was watching you more than anything else.

“Okay,” he said eventually, exhaling as if the weight of the prophecy had just now settled in. “So we’re doomed. Tragic. Horrible. Got it. Fun.” He took a small step closer, clearly unbothered by the stares he earned from the others.

“A prophet who can see the future and still stands there looking like that? Yeah. I’m interested. Is there any chance you’d come with us?” He grinned then shrugged.

“I mean, having the actual prophet around feels… safer. For us. Hehe.”