After the guardians departed on their missions, the mountain air felt strangely quiet. Aarvak's echoes had faded, and only my three bright companions — Elyra, Lyra, and Helion — remained by my side.
We had crossed Asia's boundaries by night train and reached the city of Macao by dawn. The city shimmered like a sea of neon dreams — wealthy and wild, a perfect blend of chaos and beauty.
Our money, however, didn't quite match the view. After years of creating worlds and walking between realms, I now faced humanity's oldest challenge again — surviving with an empty wallet.
Elyra looked at the hotel brochure, puzzled. "We don't even have enough for one room?"
Lyra sighed dramatically. "For someone who rebuilt existence, your savings plan is terrible."
Helion remained calm, but her brow twitched just a little. "We have infinite cosmic energy, but not enough currency for a taxi. I find that ironic."
I laughed, trying to ignore the heat rising to my face. "What can I say? Even gods need to work sometimes."
Lyra tilted her head mischievously. "So, baby, what's our grand plan now?"
Her teasing tone made me raise an eyebrow. "Baby?"
She grinned. "You told us not to call you 'master' anymore. Remember?"
Helion smirked. "You did say we should use something… affectionate."
Elyra smiled softly, her voice like sunlight through glass. "Then… what shall we call you? Darling? Honey?"
I rubbed my forehead, laughing quietly. "I regret that instruction already."
They laughed together, the sound easing the tension in my chest. After everything we'd faced—gods, judgement, realms—their laughter felt almost sacred.
We settled at a small café by the casino district. Outside, bright lights blinked endlessly, promising fortune to anyone reckless enough to chase it.
Helion ran the probability calculations instantly, her eyes glowing gold. "Casino yields are inconsistent. Luck is artificial control masked as entertainment. The odds are against you."
Lyra leaned forward, her eyes twinkling. "But it's fun!"
Elyra looked hesitant. "Do we really want to gamble, Mukul?"
I leaned back, sipping my coffee with a grin. "Yes. Because I don't play by odds anymore."
They looked at me in confusion till I tapped the pendant gently. "One of my masters once said, 'Fortune is just another form of energy waiting to be understood.' That was Master Kaien Ruo, my teacher in observation and logic – but his hobby… was gambling."
Lyra blinked. "You mean one of the twenty masters used to gamble?"
I chuckled. "He called it 'mathematical luck'. He could read every roulette wheel's rhythm and count every deck's heartbeat. He said luck was only timing and pattern."
Helion folded her arms, intrigued despite herself. "And you learnt this art from him?"
"Of course," I said, grinning. "Along with something else."
Elyra tilted her head. "Something else?"
I smiled mischievously. "My eyes."
For a moment, the pendant glowed faint blue, and the café's card deck on the next table became clear to my sight—every number, every symbol visible through the layers.
Lyra gasped. "You really have x‑ray vision?"
"Different kind," I said. "More like probability sense enhanced by divine resonance. But let's call it that."
Helion's smirk softened. "You are absurdly confident."
"Confidence is ninety percent of winning," I said lightly, finishing the last sip of coffee and standing up.
Elyra sighed, though her lips curved upward in a smile. "So, baby, your plan to make travel money is to beat the casinos?"
I slipped my hands into my coat pockets. "Precisely. The universe likes a little irony — gods winning back earthly rent."
Inside the casino, the world turned into liquid light — sound, laughter, and illusion. Every table glowed beneath chandeliers shaped like crowns.
I let the girls handle the attention while I observed silently. Elyra's beauty drew quiet awe, Lyra's charm pulled smiles from strangers, and Helion's calm glare kept anyone from getting too close. Together, they were a distraction fit for any god of chance.
Lyra grabbed my arm. "Let's start with roulette!"
We approached the table. Chips clattered, voices murmured prayers to numbers. I could almost hear everyone's heartbeat syncing to the wheel's spin.
I placed a modest bet — just enough to look uncertain. The croupier spun the wheel. Red and black streaks blurred. I didn't even blink.
Through the veil of colors, the motion slowed in my senses; the air thickened. I could see the ball's path clearly, its rhythm pulsing like a melody.
"Oh, it's going to land on seventeen black," I murmured absently.
The wheel stopped. Seventeen black.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Lyra jumped and hugged my arm. "You did it!"
Helion blinked once, impressed despite herself. "His odds reading works."
I smiled modestly. "Never doubt Master Kaien's lessons."
We played through the night — cards, dice, spins. I never risked too much, never stood out too boldly. Small wins, rhythmic patterns. Within hours, we had enough for travel, perhaps even luxury.
Elyra leaned against the balcony later, holding a cup of juice as lights painted the city gold below. "You looked happy back there," she said softly.
I chuckled. "It's strange, isn't it? After creating worlds, the thrill of chance still feels alive."
"Because you weren't gambling for greed," she said. "You were playing to remind yourself you're still human."
Her words made me pause. She was right. Beneath my titles, my strength, I missed that feeling — the heartbeat of imperfection, of trying, failing, laughing.
By midnight, we left quietly, pockets full but hearts light. Lyra swung her bag like a child. "We're rich!"
Helion corrected calmly, "Temporarily stable."
Elyra laughed softly. "For now, enough to see the world."
I looked toward the endless street ahead, glittering like a river of dreams. "Then let's travel slow," I said. "This time, not to save worlds — just to live in them."
Lyra slipped her arm through mine. "Then come on, darling. The world's waiting."
Elyra took my other hand, smiling. "And this time, its keeper belongs to it completely."
Helion followed calmly behind, shaking her head with a faint smile. "Unbelievable."
We walked into the crowd, our laughter mixing with the hum of city lights — no throne, no gods, no wars. Just us, under the soft noise of life.
For the first time in a long, long while, the universe felt simple again — and that, perhaps, was the greatest miracle of all.