While Damian lay unconscious in the snow, completely unaware of what his choice had cost, chaos rippled across the entire universe.
Every seer and oracle, from the smallest worlds to the greatest civilizations, felt it simultaneously.
Those who had received favor from Fate, whose visions had been clear and certain, whose power had been amplified by cosmic backing, suddenly found their minds going blank.
The support they’d relied on for years or centuries simply vanished, leaving them blind and grasping at shadows.
And those who had been suppressed by Fate, whose visions had been clouded and manipulated, whose paths had been deliberately obscured, suddenly felt clarity flood through their consciousness for the first time since they’d embarked on their journey.
The fog that had clouded their sight lifted, revealing truths they’d never been allowed to see.
But regardless of which side they’d been on, all of them realized the same terrible fact.
The future that had already become unpredictable due to various variables across countless worlds had now become completely unseeable.
None of them could glimpse even a fragment of what was coming.
The threads that had always been there, faint or bright depending on Fate’s favor, had simply disappeared.
****
[Unknown Location]
A hooded figure stood on top of a mountain so massive that its base could span the entire length of Earth.
Lava flowed from cracks in the volcanic stone, rivers of molten rock cascading down slopes that disappeared into clouds below.
The air shimmered with heat, distorting reality itself.
The figure stood perfectly still, hands clasped behind their back, staring out at the apocalyptic landscape.
Then suddenly, without warning, they trembled.
Their knees buckled, legs giving out without warning.
They collapsed forward onto the scorching stone, hands barely catching themselves.
"What’s... going on?"
The voice that emerged from beneath the hood carried confusion and the first hints of fear.
"Why am I–"
Blood erupted from beneath the hood, splattering across the volcanic rock.
The figure’s body convulsed, more blood pouring from their mouth.
’This doesn’t make sense! Why is my body–’
They tried to activate their sight, tried to glimpse what had happened, tried to see the threads they’d always been able to manipulate.
Splurt
But more blood sprayed across the stone as their body rejected the attempt.
Their hands clawed at the ground, nails scraping against volcanic rock.
"Why..."
The word came out as barely a whisper.
"Why can’t I see? Why?!"
The figure’s head snapped upward, hood falling back slightly as they stared at the sky.
"FATE!"
The scream tore from their throat, raw and desperate.
"HAVE YOU ABANDONED ME?!"
The words echoed across the mountain, bouncing off distant peaks.
But no answer came, just the sound of flowing lava and distant thunder.
"Even though I tried to master you! I did everything according to the rules of the universe!"
The figure’s hands clenched into fists, blood still dripping from their mouth.
"You can’t turn against me! The path of Fate allows those who walk it to eventually become it!"
Still nothing came as the silence pressed down, heavier than the heat.
"ANSWER ME!"
The scream carried across the volcanic wasteland.
Their breathing came in ragged gasps as they knelt there, trying to understand what had happened.
’Something’s wrong... Fate doesn’t turn against those who follow the rules...’
Then they reached out again, more carefully this time, trying to just sense Fate’s presence.
And they found it.
But what they sensed made their blood run cold.
"Impossible!"
The word burst from their lips.
"How has Fate of the entire universe weakened so much?! What could possibly damage it to this extent?!"
Their mind raced through possibilities, discarding each one as impossible or insufficient.
"Only the Beggar has ever been able to–"
They stopped mid-sentence, the implication hitting them like a physical blow.
Then they started stepping backward, boots scraping against stone.
"No... no no no no..."
Their voice came out panicked now, all composure shattered.
"It can’t be! That bastard... he can’t do anything now! He’s supposed to be–"
The words cut off abruptly.
"He... is he still–"
Their breathing came in ragged gasps, hands shaking violently.
’Calm down...’
The figure forced themselves to stop moving and took deep breaths.
And slowly, the panic receded, replaced by cold calculation.
"Even if he’s the one who did this somehow, even if he found a way..."
Their voice was steadier now, finding solid ground again.
"The price needed to achieve this must be equal to what was done. That’s the law of equivalent exchange. He couldn’t have weakened Fate without paying a terrible cost himself."
The figure’s head tilted back, looking at the sky again.
This time their voice came out calm and deadly.
"Beggar, just because you weakened Fate doesn’t mean you can protect that world forever."
Their hands clenched at their sides.
"I killed your chosen one before, and I’ll make sure to eradicate him again! No one can stop me! Not you, not Fate, NO ONE!"
They turned sharply, robe swirling.
"GOLMORE!"
The name echoed across the volcanic peak.
And a shadow detached from the darkness behind them, materializing into a kneeling form.
"My Lord, what is your command?"
The voice was toneless, empty of personality or emotion.
The hooded figure pulled a ring from their finger, the metal gleaming with inscriptions that hurt to look at directly.
Then they threw it toward the kneeling shadow, the ring arcing through the air.
The shadow’s hand caught it without looking up, fingers closing around it.
"Make sure this reaches Khra’gath." The voice carried absolute authority. "But don’t let him or the Giant Chiefs know where it came from. Use one of our spies embedded in their ranks."
"Yes, my Lord."
As the shadow started to fade, preparing to depart, the hooded figure spoke again.
"And if in the coming days Khra’gath dies, if that piece fails to accomplish what we need..."
Their voice dropped lower, carrying terrible weight.
"Activate every piece we’ve placed on Earth. Make it known to every single one of them that their greatest mission now, the one that supersedes all others..."
They paused.
"Is to kill Damian Valcor by any means necessary."
The shadow paused for just a moment, processing the magnitude of that command.
"Understood, my Lord."
Then it disappeared completely, taking the ring with it.
The hooded figure stood alone on the volcanic mountain, staring out at the rivers of lava flowing below.
"With my power weakened like this, will ’they’ still listen to me?"
The question emerged as barely a whisper.
"I really didn’t expect this to happen. After all the planning, all the preparation, all the moves across centuries..."
Blood dripped from their chin, staining the black stone.
"But every chaos brings its own opportunities, every disruption creates new paths forward..."
Their voice grew stronger, certainty returning.
"And it looks like my opportunity to finally become the God of Fate has arrived as well."
They laughed, the sound echoing across the volcanic wasteland.
"Thank you, Beggar. By weakening Fate, you’ve made it vulnerable. And what’s vulnerable can be consumed."
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