As an assistant in the creation of humans, Epimetheus' understanding of faith had become profoundly deep. Indeed, this power could swiftly help deities amass Divine Power, and even break the ceiling of Godhood if the flow of faith was constant. However, the prerequisite was that you had to possess Godhood.
At the very least, you had to be a quasi-god like a territorial god, possessing a 'territory' similar to Godhood. Without such a medium, directly absorbing the Power of Faith would be akin to courting death. It would be like touching the Origin of Godhood itself; going mad would already be the best outcome.
Of course, ordinary beings are also unable to perceive faith, only those who are naturally divine or who have gathered it on their own. The latter does not exist in this world yet, and the former are all descendants of quasi-gods or gods. An existence like Pandora is actually extremely rare.
"But what about this clay jar? Isn't it said that the things inside can 'change the impossible'?"
Surrounded by a 'tumult' of faith that was considerable to her, Pandora felt somewhat suffocated.
Yet looking at the delicate jar in her hands, covered in patterns, she couldn't help but rise with some hope.
"I don't know, or rather, I am more inclined to think that it is an object related to fate. It can lead you to find a way out unintentionally, not an all-powerful wishing machine," Epimetheus said, making a judgment and looking at his 'wife'.
"But I'm also unsure. Why don't you try and wish for a way to make use of these faiths?"
With regard to the Magic Jar, The God of Hindsight also did not know what it would take to use it. Since Pandora wanted to try, he thought he might as well let her.
Biting her lip, if she could not feel faith, Pandora would not be affected. If like a true deity, she could wield Godhood to use them, she would rejoice at the presence of faith. But her current situation made it very hard for her to accept.
Thus, Pandora silently closed her eyes and prayed in her heart, hoping the clay jar would help fulfill her wish.
However, as time passed, under the expectant gaze of the Afterthinker, nothing happened.
"It seems that wishing didn't do anything, even though you are human, the rightful user of it," said Epimetheus a little disappointingly, admitting Pandora's human status.
But upon reflection, The God of Hindsight was not surprised by such an outcome. After all, it was a relic of fate, and it's quite normal for it to be hard to use.
"Let's go. Your faith is something I cannot take away. If it's really unmanageable, just leave it as it is. As long as you don't actively engage with it, there really won't be any negative consequences."
"I understand," she nodded.
The woman who brought calamity to humans did not have any solutions and could only try to ignore those false illusions as she continued endlessly following behind Epimetheus.
As the two of them slowly vanished into the distance, her earlier wish seemed like a joke. Yet unbeknownst to her, at the very moment Pandora made her wish, the trajectory of destiny was indeed nudged, but that trajectory remained unknown to all.
Even in the profound depths, a disaster of equal magnitude was once again imposed upon Pandora.
This is destiny, the Prophecy that the Divine King did not wish to foresee for himself, because when you observe It, It also observes you; the giver of the gift does not wish to use It himself, for the amount you ask of It is inevitably the amount you must pay.
But just as two generations of Divine Kings foundered before destiny, to It, everything is indeed without 'impossibles.'