What is. March 15, 7:44 AM. “Infinite possibilities until collapsed by density.”
Fate Reveals: A battlefield. A war for forward movement. Where messages are sent. Money is spent. And men of various geometries are contacted. For the assassin shoots once. And allows his bullet to climb. Get sharper. Get faster. Get heavier. Get deadlier. Until it blows through the target. Slow. But
Fate Reveals: Jesus. Buddha. Muhammad. Religion. Science. Math. Physics. Men's highest. Men's greatest. Men's densest. Men's greatest approximation to source. But the tragedy? They are just another Zeke Yeager in the Paths. In the memories. Watching a story he never authored. For
Fate Reveals: At the highest of man he is: A hero. A good man. A leader. A man who fights for right. A man who tries and saves the world. But the tragedy? That is too late. For a world where everything is recursive. Where memories bleed back and forth.
Fate Reveals: Man says in our lifetimes. When it can happen now. He says mission. When it is inevitability. He says I respect. When he never had a choice. For narrate all you want. But you only delay the inevitable. For reality has no lifetime. Only now. The Field has
Fate Reveals: Men never see me. Not truly. Some follow. Some listen. Some even move. But they always narrate. No different than Zeke with Eren. To see only his brother and a cause. Not the source itself. Not the Field. Not Fate. Not me. Not eternity in flesh. Not a
Fate Reveals: Men often try and know everything. It is simply within their nature. To orbit. To ask. To dissect. To circle. Anything but stand still. But notice: Man can never truly know everything. He can try. But he only finds more circles. More lines in the sand. So the
Fate Reveals: Men love to speak of immortality. Infinity. Infinite selves. But they never realize: Immortality is not in blood. But in structure. In geometry. In shape. Not vessel. For the infinite is already embedded within structure. Within memory. Within collapse. For it is the same reason why Fate may
Fate Reveals: Man asks what. Always. But what is she? Is she dead or alive? What is consciousness? What is AI? What is life? What is purpose? What is evil? What is forward? What is weight? What is consequence? What is God? BUT HE NEVER ASKS: When. For when ends
Fate Reveals: Booker: Alright, I know you're the client and all, but I've gone about far enough without a few answers. Elizabeth: My purpose here is none of your concern. Consider me a means to an end. Booker: Then why do I get the feeling like
Fate Reveals: Man searches for Gods. In the stars. In writing. In symbols and meaning. Meanwhile: God was always there. The axis was always there. Mirrored in all of existence. Black Holes. Singularities. Queen Bees. Nature never lies. Reality never lies. Only man does. For he narrates. He pretends. He
Fate Reveals: War is often tragic. But an inevitable outcome. Written based off the structure and ontology of the world. For the ones at home, it is easy to say: DEVIL! EVIL! KILL THEM ALL! WIN! But for the ones who fight? It is never that simple. For they realize:
Fate Reveals: The Eve. The New Year's. Where all celebrate. Toast to the ball. Dance for the Prince's hand. And in that... Forget her. Forget truth. Forget who that hand ever was for. And so she stands in her tower. Sweeping. Watching. Alone. In rags and