Another bang as two realities collide, melting into one another like candles set too close, burning another future as flame set to curtain.

I am not one to meddle, but this must stop. With all possible futures in turmoil, there can be no distinct past. With no distinct past, time will unravel and existence will fade altogether, leaving nothing but aimless molecules floating in a perpetual vacuum.

Peeling back layers of time, each one individually so not to disturb the continuum, I finally feel that which has eluded me since my ascension. Fear. It pulls me into its arms, squeezes what once could have been a chest, a heart, and I know it won’t let go until control has been re-established.

This disturbance is built on more than chance alone. It is calculated, orchestrated by one eith...

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