[Third Person's PoV]
Lucian stared at the three girls—triplets—who had just flashed him matching smiles that sent a cold chill down his spine. It was unmistakable now.
Especially Lachesis, or Lasis, as she was now called. She sat right next to him, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Her expression—flirtatious, even playful—lasted only a heartbeat before she shifted back into her role, donning the same pretentious nervousness and shy demeanor she had displayed earlier. The transformation was so smooth it would've fooled anyone else. But not Lucian.
Meanwhile, just a desk over, Annabeth blinked in growing confusion. She had noticed Clotho—or Chloe, as she was now called—leaning slightly in Lucian's direction, her bright, innocent smile never fading. There was a glint in her eye, something knowing, and Annabeth didn't like it. At all.
Annabeth's eyebrows creased with suspicion as she turned her head toward Lucian. Lucian was turned away from the girls, his face buried in one hand, trying desperately to avert his gaze like he'd just seen something horrifying—or worse, annoying.
Annabeth's suspicion flared hotter. No, she hadn't heard their voices before today. So no, she couldn't have guessed—not in a thousand years—that the Fates themselves, the very dictators of destiny, would go and transform themselves into a trio of school girls. She hadn't reached Lucian's terrifying conclusion yet.
All she saw was three strange girls, all batting their eyes and smiling at her boyfriend, with the confidence of women who thought they could get away with it.
And that was the real problem.
Annabeth's lip twitched as she activated a [Psychic Link], casting the mental connection toward Lucian like a sharp-edged thread. She even extended it to Bianca, not wanting to leave her out of whatever hell was brewing.
Through the link, her voice rang loud and clear, laced with venom: "Why the fuck are those three bitches looking at you like that? Did they get lost or something? They better redirect those eyes before I make sure we end up with another set of Graeae sisters."
Lucian flinched. Both at her words and at the pressure in his head from the rising tension.
"Annabeth," he murmured aloud and mentally, his voice tired.
He kept his gaze pinned to the desk as though looking up would unleash something terrible. His hand remained over his forehead like he was trying to massage the chaos out of his brain. His next words came slowly, like they physically pained him to say.
"They're the Three. Sisters. Of. Fucking. Fate."
Bianca let out a strangled choking noise, which she barely managed to suppress into a cough. Her eyes bulged slightly as she gripped the edge of her desk.
Annabeth, meanwhile, froze so completely she could have been mistaken for a statue. She turned her head forward robotically, planted both hands on the desk, and stared ahead with wide, stunned eyes.
"THEY'RE THE WHAT?!" both girls screamed simultaneously in the mental link, the psychic equivalent of a megaphone blast.
Now fully alert to the gravity of the situation, the two girls sat stock still, like mannequins in a store window. They didn't dare move, as though any twitch, any breath out of place might trigger their fates to unravel on the spot.
Though their heads didn't turn, their eyes shifted ever so slightly.
Chloe—Clotho—was beaming at Annabeth with the most delightful, friendly smile imaginable. She gave a tiny wave, the embodiment of innocence and warmth. Annabeth didn't return it. She couldn't. Her brain had short-circuited.
Besides Bianca, Sors—formerly Atropos—merely tilted her chin in acknowledgment, her dark eyes half-lidded in disinterest. Bianca, who had just barely recovered from her internal panic, caught the look. Her instincts screamed at her not to ignore it.
Slowly, like a bomb technician defusing a live grenade, Bianca turned and offered Atropos a stiff, awkward smile. Something between 'please don't kill me' and 'have a good day, ma'am.'
Sors raised an eyebrow faintly in amusement, then turned away, her expression returning to her usual mask of bored indifference.
The classroom buzzed on around them, Mrs. Ferguson still explaining class expectations, course structure, and grading policies. But none of that mattered to the trio anymore. Lucian, Annabeth, and Bianca sat in cold, uneasy silence. Their thoughts were elsewhere—on threads, on scissors, on spinning wheels, and what it meant to have the Fates themselves sharing a classroom with them.
As the class went on, their tension began to ease slightly. The Fates—whatever game they were playing—didn't seem immediately hostile. That didn't mean they weren't still terrifying.
They stole glances at the triplets.
Chloe rested her chin on both hands, elbows on the desk as she kicked her feet back and forth with a cheerful grin. She looked like a carefree child waiting for recess.
Lasis adjusted her glasses in a practiced motion, though her fingers fumbled slightly—as if she wasn't used to wearing them. There was something alien in the gesture, like the glasses didn't belong to her, or perhaps like pretending to be a schoolgirl didn't come naturally to a timeless force of destiny.
Meanwhile, Sors looked completely done with everything. She leaned back in her seat, arms folded under her chest, absentmindedly twirling a strand of her hair like she had better places to be.
Then—mercifully—the bell rang.
As students packed up and flooded out of the classroom, Lucian kept his distance from the triplets—until they followed behind.
He abruptly spun on his heel, a cold, serious look etched across his face. They had followed him, and now that they were away from the crowd, he was ready to confront them.
He turned, eyes sharp as blades, facing the Sisters of Fate head-on.
"That's the matter with you three!!" Lucian snapped through gritted teeth, his frustration boiling over.
Chloe stood there, both hands grasping the straps of her backpack. Her smile didn't falter—in fact, it only brightened. "We've never been to school before," she said cheerfully, as though that explained everything. "I thought it'd be a nice bonding experience. A chance for all of us to really meet each other and, you know, connect."
Lucian stared at her like she'd just grown a second head.
"What would be the point of crafting this scenario if I didn't get to personally live out my fantasies?" Lasis chimed in, pushing her glasses up her nose with one finger. The glare off the lenses flashed dramatically, like she was in some over-the-top anime.
Lucian blinked slowly, then hissed, "You're fucking demented." He turned his gaze toward Sors, his expression shifting from fury to something that resembled disappointment.
And that hit harder than she expected.
"And you," he said, quieter now, his disappointment like a weight pressing down on her. "I thought you were better than this…"
Out of all the time he'd spent with the Moirai—during their private, awkward, and mostly formal meetings—Atropos, the oldest of the three, had been the one he connected with most. There was a quiet dignity to her, a calmness that the others lacked.
Sors looked away, unable to meet his eyes. Her voice came out low, regretful.
"It was two against one," she muttered. "Besides… they would've come without me. And I didn't want to be alone."
There was a rare vulnerability in her words that made even Lucian pause.
Chloe leaned over toward Annabeth and Bianca, her voice hushed and conspiratorial,
"It might not look like it, but out of all of us, Atropos is the one who craves companionship the most."
Bianca's eyes twitched slightly as she kept her forced smile in place. "I see…" she murmured, her face going stiff with discomfort. She turned her head slightly toward Annabeth and mouthed, What the hell?
Inside the psychic link, Annabeth sighed and mentally responded with a tired, almost apologetic tone. "Right… you wouldn't know. We never told you. Lucian's the fiancé of the Three Fates."
Bianca froze. Her eyes widened. Her entire body jolted.
"HE'S WHAT?!" she blurted out loud, unable to stop the sheer force of disbelief from exploding out of her mouth.
A wave of silence swept across the hallway as nearby students and even some faculty turned their heads in unison to stare.
Bianca's cheeks turned a violent shade of red as she instinctively shuffled closer to Annabeth, trying to hide behind her.
Lucian closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose with a long-suffering sigh.
"You know what? Forget it. It's not even worth it anymore. Just… try to keep your sisters under control, will you?"
Sors gave a tired, sympathetic shrug. "Easier said than done," she mumbled, offering him a half-hearted, lopsided smile. "But I'll try."
"Hey! What did I do?" Chloe asked with a dramatic pout, her voice rising in offense and hurt. "You're making it sound like I did something bad."
Lucian gave her a deadpan look. "Look me in the eyes and tell me you weren't the one who came up with the idea to enroll in high school and play the part of cute teenage girls."
Chloe's pout deepened as a soft blush painted her cheeks. She looked away, eyes twinkling mischievously. "Hehehe… you know me so well," she sang, swaying from side to side in a cutesy, playful manner.
Lucian just groaned and looked back to Sors again. "Control. Your. Sisters."
"You're asking me to do the impossible," she replied, voice dry. "But like I said I'll try"
Just then, Lasis raised her hand with a thoughtful expression. "So when are you going to try out for the sports team?" she asked innocently. "I think the football team would suit you best."
Lucian turned to her with a flat, emotionless expression, his eyes half-lidded and utterly unimpressed.
Lasis grinned and threw him two enthusiastic thumbs up. "I want to wear your varsity jacket," she declared without shame.
Lucian exhaled sharply and looked away, a snort escaping against his will. "Goddamn it," he muttered. "I hate that I found that funny."
Before anyone could add more chaos, the bell rang, signaling the start of the next class. Without another word, Lucian turned on his heel and walked ahead, leading the way like a man marching toward a firing squad.
"The only jacket you need to be wearing," he called back dryly over his shoulder, "is a straightjacket."
As the group followed him, Bianca shuffled along in a daze, still processing everything. Her expression was one of complete bewilderment. Meanwhile, Annabeth began mentally explaining the full, tangled story between Lucian and the Three Fates through their link—an abridged version of their history.
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