"Is that not enough? What Epoch is it now? Since fate has given a chance to escape, it must be the chaotic end of an Epoch. The 17th? 18th? Or 19th?
If it's the 17th Epoch, I know about the Savior's Emblem, the 'Uncrowned King';
If it's the 18th Epoch, I know about the Savior's Emblem, 'Destiny's Stage';
If it's the 19th Epoch, I know about the Savior's Emblem, the 'Source of Fear'.
I once peeked into the Millstone of Fate, which is why I know these things ahead of ti. I can guarantee you will never get this knowledge from anyone else."
The voice grew sharper than before, the childish tone shifting into that of a witch.
Jenkins froze, his hand hovering over the divine artifact. This was an unexpected boon. Perhaps all the bad luck of the past week had been leading up to this mont.
"It is the 18th Epoch. I can agree to your terms, but you must tell what you know first."
"Human, greed is not a virtue. The 18th Epoch... so much ti has passed... Very well, I can tell you a small part, but you'll have to help to get the rest. 'Destiny's Stage' is an extrely unique form of ability, not a singular... wait a mont. You know about the Savior's Emblems?"
The question hung in the air, but Jenkins didn't answer. He simply tightened his grip on the tal block.
"How do you know?"
Its tone suddenly beca fast and frantic.
"How do you know? What's going on? Is it a coincidence? You know about the emblems, and I just happen to be able to provide the details..."
Now that it ntioned it, the thick scent of destiny did seem to hang in the air, just as it had with so many other recent events.
"No... could it be? Are you the Child of Destiny for this Epoch? Does this an I've beco a re tool in the Millstone of Fate, a pawn whose sole purpose is to help you obtain the Savior's Emblem?"
It muttered these horrifying words to itself, its tone steadily losing all semblance of sanity.
"What is this? Fate? Is this the price for peeking into the Millstone of Fate? I should have known... I never should have looked at that thing. But, oh, Master! Great Mr. Prankster! I was standing right in front of the book. How could I have possibly resisted turning its pages?"
It had apparently driven itself mad. Jenkins, for his part, hadn't said a single word.
"I understand now. From the mont I turned the pages of the Millstone of Fate, I beca its prisoner. The murders, the slaughter of cities, the battle with the human demigod, being sealed by a god, the long wait, the hope of breaking free, your arrival, this very conversation... I see it all now. It was all so that I would tell you about 'Destiny's Stage.' From the mont I read that forbidden knowledge, my entire existence has been reduced to this one single purpose!"
The final sound likely surpassed the range of human hearing; Jenkins didn't catch the last few words. He frowned, feeling as though his ears were bleeding. He, too, was caught in the web of fate, and he suddenly found himself looking forward to what the puppet would do next.
"Oh, this accursed fate! Oh, that damned Millstone of Fate! Oh, this wretched world! Why? Why? Why?"
Jenkins was once again reminded of how dangerous this world was. Even a simple conversation with oneself could drive a person mad. The creature before him was a pri example. He himself had once nearly co to self-harm from pondering the yellow moon, proof that knowing more wasn't always a good thing.
"Fate! If this is your design, then I will not let you have your way! You will not turn into your puppet! I am free! My destiny is my own!"
As the last word was uttered, the feeling of extre danger returned. Without a second thought, Jenkins bolted into the corridor and scrambled up the stairs. A muffled explosion erupted behind him, the massive shockwave nearly destroying the entire underground complex. A rumbling sound echoed for a full ten minutes, and a shuddering tide of energy and the scattered essence of the world's rules were slowly absorbed back into the fabric of space.
Kaleidoscopic colors filled the shattered walls of space. A colossal eye appeared behind a crack, only to vanish an instant later. Mad, chaotic information flooded Jenkins's mind, and he dimly perceived the image of a man doing woodwork.
He held a saw and gave Jenkins a mischievous, happy smile before a phantom punch knocked him out of the hallucination and back to his senses.
After coming to, he lay on the steps for a long ti to recover before finally returning to the sealed chamber. The explosion had obliterated half the room. The ground was littered with dirt and gravel, and the already thin air was thick with dust. Jenkins bent down and cradled the head-sized sapphire in his arms, then picked up a piece of debris resembling a puppet's leg from the dust-covered floor. This fragnt pulsed with a rich, white spiritual light, but it wasn't a Bestowal—it was a precious, all-purpose material:
"It... self-destructed?"
His suspicion was quickly confird. The pocket watch chain, which had been vibrating incessantly, fell still once more, and the faint sense of danger vanished completely. The place no longer held any mystery or chilling aura; it was just an ordinary underground space.
"What was that? Challenging fate?"
He was at a loss for words for a long while, but he had to admire the puppet's courage. Even if it was an enemy, it had, at the very least, demonstrated for Jenkins the price one must pay to defy destiny.
He looked around one last ti to make sure he hadn't missed anything before returning to the surface.
Back at the manor, Mrs. Hydra had awoken. When she learned what had happened below, she was too stunned to speak. The two of them descended once more so the woman could personally confirm that the sealed entity was truly gone. At first, her expression was one of loss, her eyes staring blankly into the air. Then, suddenly, she burst into laughter—a wild, hysterical laugh.
For ages, her family had borne the responsibility of guarding this place. Jenkins wasn't sure exactly how long that had been, but it was at least several hundred generations. All the trials and tribulations of that long history had co to an end today. Freed from the responsibility of guardianship, perhaps the woman and her descendants could find a better life.
But at the very least, Mrs. Hydra would likely receive better treatnt in the afterlife. From what Jenkins knew, the gods offered special favor to mortals who shouldered such heavy responsibilities.
By the ti they returned to the surface, Mrs. Hydra had managed to regain control of her emotions. Together, they closed the heavy door in the corridor and watched as it slowly faded from sight.
"So, it's over?"
Jenkins asked one last ti.
"It's over."
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