At the dawn of time, when the gods still carved destiny with their own hands and the stars sang forgotten secrets, a child was born marked by divinity.
His cradle was not earthly, but one of the Twelve Heavens: an ethereal realm where light danced with the wind and dreams blossomed like newborn stars.
From his first cry, the child radiated an aura that transcended all mortal understanding. The whispers of the firmament spoke of a lineage sealed by the great celestial war, an echo of power that still throbbed in his blood. The light that enveloped him was not that of an ordinary dawn, but the living reflection of an ancient promise: the last legacy of the Creator.
The gods gathered in council, for the first time in millennia. In the center of the pantheon, the great goddess Mithril, mother of Zodiark, raised her voice, soft as a shadow in the dawn:
"We must guide him... not only with power, but with wisdom. The future is not forged by force, but with truth."
Her eyes, two shining constellations, hid the anxiety that only a mother can feel. Her son was the prince of divinity, but also a child with a destiny that could shake the balance of all existence.
Zodiark, with shimmering hair and eyes that captured galaxies, grew up amid laughter, cosmic games, and pranks with floating flowers and dancing stars. He admired his mother, feared her immensity, but loved her with the pure innocence of a newly formed soul.
Often, divine figures came to see him. Thalor, god of the seas, would allow himself to be splashed by the boy's playful waves, laughing like a mortal. Lods, the god of duality, would often watch him silently as he built cloud castles.
"Sometimes, true courage isn't raising a sword," Lods would tell him. "It's embracing our own fears."
But even amidst play and wisdom, Zodiark felt the pressure of being "the chosen one." His stubbornness surfaced whenever someone tried to correct him. He was a child, yes, but also the living hope of the universe.
As the months passed, Mithrilas, watching his son grow in power and will, feared that the weight of his heritage would break him. Therefore, he called a new council of the greatest deities of the cosmos, of light and darkness, to choose who would guide his upbringing.
Before the Throne of Infinity, in the presence of the Almighty Nexus and Queen Mithril herself, the decision was made.
"Today, we will choose those who will guide the Prince of all deities," Nexus proclaimed in a voice that shook galaxies. "Their formation will decide the future of all that exists."
One by one, the names were announced.
"We call upon Alexander, Living Machine and great divine hero. His sword will temper the child's temper."
A gigantic machine strode forward. Over two meters tall, it was clad in starsteel armor. Its face, hidden beneath a helmet, revealed only a line of light through the visor. It knelt solemnly:
"I swear by my existence to guide and protect Prince Zodiark, even if it costs me my last divine spark."
His voice boomed like thunder, making more than one lesser god tremble.
"We now call upon Zeus, lord of lightning and divine hero, stubborn as a comet and joyful as the dawning sun."
Zeus walked amid laughter, his beard ruffled, and his gaze sparkling.
"I swear with my life that I will watch over the little one, whether he is drunk with joy or at the end of my patience," he joked, eliciting laughter and frowns alike.
Finally, the name that would close the oath:
"Yatma, goddess of wisdom and divine heroine, compassionate as the dew and steadfast as the oldest stars."
She knelt, sweet, determined.
"I promise to watch over his soul, his mistakes, and his future, as if he were my own child."
Mithril offered her a heavenly gift, a ribbon of eternal light.
The entire council blessed the three mentors with gifts and power, while little Zodiark watched, curious and restless, not fully understanding that his life had just changed.
>>Five years later…<<
Zodiark, now wiser and more mischievous, trained in the Celestial Courtyard. He already spoke multiple divine languages and had developed incipient cosmic powers.
Alexander instructed him with long and short blades. His voice echoed:
"It's time to learn to defend yourself, little one."
Zodiark flinched. The giant's voice still intimidated him.
"Hey, you're scaring him again!" Yatma intervened, appearing like a gust of sweet perfume.
She bent down, picked the boy up in her arms, and soothed him tenderly.
"He's only five years old, Alexander. What do you expect? For him to already master the art of war?"
"I am a great divine hero. My voice won't change just because you ask sweetly," he replied, crossing his arms.
"That's what I'm here for, to balance your excesses," Zeus laughed, appearing with a lightning bolt in his hand like a toy staff.
He walked over and lifted Zodiark with ease.
"Come on, kiddo. If we don't train today, at least we'll make it fun for Alexander to watch me fall."
"Looks like I need to be braver... and not anger Yatma!" Zodiark said innocently.
From a corner, Yatma smiled, touched.
"This kid already knows how to win a lady," Zeus joked. "Not like you, you old walking piece of metal."
Alexander suddenly appeared behind him, as stealthy as an eclipse. He only said,
"Piece of what?"
With a whoosh, his blow threw Zeus against a column, knocking it down in a cloud of dust.
"Again!" Zodiark shouted excitedly, laughing like never before.
The "sparring match" continued amidst peals of laughter, divine explosions, and celestial wreckage... until a higher deity appeared in fury and punished them for destroying the sacred ground.
They didn't train that day.
But they achieved something even more valuable: Zodiark slept with a smile, embraced by the three of them.
Yatma carried him to his bed with a solemn gesture.
—Three hearts will guide the Prince of the Cosmos... and in their games, laughter, and mistakes, the legacy that will change the destiny of the universe will begin to form.
Because even destiny... must first learn to laugh.