In the infinite expanse of the cosmos, there exists a hidden collection of treasures beyond mortal comprehension—the Seven Divine Artifacts. Among these relics, each revered as "god-tier," stands the Book of Destiny. Shrouded in myth and sought after by beings of unimaginable power, it's said that each of these artifacts holds within it the ability to reshape worlds, to break down the very fabric of creation, and—if wielded with wisdom or hubris—to bend existence itself to the will of its possessor.

The Book of Destiny, however, possesses a mystique that surpasses even the boldest imaginations. This tome, bound in indestructible, midnight-black leather that seems to drink in the light, holds secrets that have intrigued gods and confounded scholars. Its pages shimmer faintly with an otherworldly sheen, like stardust captured in ink, a testament to the power it holds. Alongside it rests the Pen of Destiny, an elegant, darkened instrument carved from material of unknown origin, its tip sharp and glistening as though longing to write the universe's next chapter. These two artifacts, inseparable in both power and purpose, form a union that legends claim can manifest any written destiny—anything, that is, except WEALTH, HEALTH AND LOVE

The Rules of Destiny

Many have sought to exploit the Book of Destiny for selfish gains, only to be thwarted by its immutable laws. For in the realm of destiny, desires of wealth, health, and love are bound by universal forces beyond mortal reach. Write as they might, no user could manifest untold riches, perfect health, or eternal love, as if even the gods themselves feared the potential corruption of such wishes.

But the rules do not end there. The first law binds the Book and Pen of Destiny into a perfect, unbreakable pair: without the pen, the book cannot be written upon; without the book, the pen is powerless, as mute and inert as stone. Their power is sealed within their unity, and any attempt to circumvent this bond results in silence—the ink won't flow, the words refuse to form.

There is, however, a third law that eclipses all: for any written destiny to become reality, a medium must exist. The book does not grant wishes like some idle deity; it intertwines fate and destiny, drawing upon the writer as its conduit. If one were to write, "I resurrect the fallen," the book would alter fate's tapestry, subtly rewiring the author's destiny to manifest this wish. But should they try commanding the book with blunt intent, "Resurrect the fallen," the words would fall powerless. In this, the Book of Destiny respects a single truth—commands are hollow, but destiny, woven through the medium of its writer, is sacred.

The Paradox of Immortality

Some say the book's greatest gift is immortality. Theoretically, one could write, "I shall never die," and thereby sever themselves from the chains of mortal fate. And yet, there lies a paradox within this promise. Such a fate would indeed prevent the accidents, the sicknesses, the slow decay that leads to death. But should the bearer choose to end their life by their own will, the book offers no interference. Free will remains untouched, an enigma even for the Book of Destiny. In truth, this is the book's only release: for its destined writer to choose their end.

Should a bearer write their immortality and later feel the weight of eternity, their life could only cease by their own choice. In that moment, the Book of Destiny would return to its dormant state, its pages blank once more, awaiting the next fated soul to grasp it.

A Warning to Seekers

In this endless cycle of desire, destiny, and despair, it is whispered that the Book of Destiny does not come lightly to those who find it. Whether by fate or folly, it is said that those drawn to it are already tangled within a larger web, a grand design that remains hidden even from themselves. Few understand this in time. They are drawn by the lure of reshaping their fate, by the allure of godlike power within mortal hands. Yet they seldom comprehend the truth—that their destinies may already be sealed, that the book's promises are often as much curse as gift. And so, like moths to an unseen flame, countless souls have pursued the Book of Destiny, ignorant of the burdens they would inherit.

But our tale is not about these lost seekers, nor the pantheon of beings who have dared to wield this artifact. Instead, it is about a lone author, a simple man named Ace, who stumbled upon this relic by chance—or perhaps by destiny itself. Ace, whose name will soon echo through the cosmic tapestry, is about to learn what it means to be caught in the web of fate, hunted by the very words he once believed he commanded.