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[System Quest: Maintain the Lines of Fate]
Status: Completed.
"huhhh?"
I found myself lying on damp soil, rain falling at from the skies.
One mont, I said goodnight to Pixie and fell asleep... the next, I was here.
Ughhh
Not again, I sighed.
This was my final day at the battle of Villo Greek, which ignited a civil war in the subcontinent of the United States of Arica.
I stared at the notification, blinking as raindrops splattered against my skin.
My body felt heavy—too heavy. Cold, wet soil pressed against my back, the scent of blood thick in the air.
My limbs ached, and pain pulsed through every inch of .
I knew this place.
I knew this night.
Not again.
A bitter taste filled my mouth as I forced myself to look around . My vision swam, but I could still make out the devastation across the abandoned place.
Fires burned in the distance, flickering across the black sky. The scent of acrid iron and smoke mixed together, choking .
This was the final night of the Battle of Villo Greek. The night that ignited a civil war in the subcontinent of the United States. The night I had sworn to never return to.
But no matter how much I wished otherwise, I was here.
Forced to relive the worst mont of my life.
After The Blip, Damien had given another quest.
"Maintain the Lines of Fate."
A fancy way of saying, Do exactly what the Noah in the Book of Sin did.
And so, I did.
I killed.I slaughtered.Even when it made no sense, I followed the script.
Every death that was ant to happen—I ensured it.Every act of cruelty the villain version of had done—I repeated.
And that included…
My breath stopped, my vision narrowing as I looked at the lifeless body just a few feet away.
Munro Aldritch.
A man who had done nothing wrong.A father.A single father who had just been trying to live.
I had killed him out of spite.
Not my spite.Not this Noah's spite.
But the Noah in the book. The one I was ant to beco.
I hadn't hesitated back then.And neither had I now.
A shudder ran through my body.
My hands trembled as I tried to reach him. The rain had washed away so of the blood, but not enough. Munro's body was twisted unnaturally, his clothes soaked in crimson.
The man's eyes... glassy, empty, stared up at the sky.
A choked breath slipped my lips.
"Maintain the Lines of Fate."
That was what Damien had told .
But as I sat there, staring at what I had done, I felt sothing crack inside .
Then—
A sound.
A sharp gasp cut through the night.
My heart stopped.
No.
No, not yet.
Please.
A girl ran through the mud, her bare feet splashing through puddles, her white hair stuck to her face.
I knew her.
Even before she reached him, even before she fell to her knees beside him.
Even before she whispered—
"Papa?"
—Even before that, I knew.
Pixie.
A sob twisted at my throat.
My entire body trembling as I tried to push myself up.
"Pixie, go back."
The words were in my head, clawing at my throat, desperate to break free.
"Go back inside. You can't see this, kitty. You shouldn't see this."
But nothing ca out.
Not a single word.
My mouth opened but nothing ca out of it.
I couldn't even move my body.
Nothing I did could change this.
This mont had already happened.
No matter how many tis I replayed it, no matter how many thoughts raced through my mind—
The past was set in stone.
And I could do nothing but watch as Pixie trembled, her small hands pressing against her father's bloodied chest.
"Papa?" she whispered again, voice barely a breath.
The sound shattered .
I wanted to scream. To tell her to leave, to run, to forget—
But I couldn't.
Because this wasn't real.
This was just a dream.
A mory burned so deeply into my soul that I was forced to relive it over and over again.
My chest tightened as her shoulders shook gently.
Then harder.
I turned away, unable to look.
But I still heard it.
The way her breathing beca a ss.
The way her voice cracked.
She let out a choked sound, pressing her forehead against his chest. "Please," she whispered. "Please wake up. I'm scared...daddy...."
He didn't move.
Her breathing grew uneven.
Small fingers grasped at his shirt, tugging, desperate.
"Papa, please!" She shook him again. "Please, I don't like this ga! You said you'd never leave !"
I clenched my teeth, my nails digging into the mud beneath.
"You're just tired, right?" Her voice broke, tears falling down her soft, pale cheeks. "You always get so tired after work, I know that… but this isn't funny anymore, Papa."
She pressed her hands against his body, her small figure curled up beside him. "I'll be good," she whispered.
"I won't complain about the food anymore. I won't ask for new clothes. I won't be annoying... Just... just open your eyes."
Silence.
The world seed frozen.
A shaky sob escaped her mouth. Then another.
And then—
Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhh
A shrill, scream.
Raw, broken.
Her whole body trembled and she couldn't stop hitting at his chest, demanding to be heard.
But no matter what she did, the man lying beside her refused to move.
She clung to him, her fingers twisting into his bloodstained shirt as her cries turned into sothing almost inhuman. "Don't leave , don't leave , don't leave —!"
But he was already gone.
I wanted to move. I wanted to look away.
But I couldn't.
This was what I had done.
I had turned this girl into an orphan.
And for what?
Because fate said so? Because I had to play the villain?
Because so god decided this was the path I had to walk?
Pixie sobbed harder, her entire body trembling as she buried her face into his chest. "Take too," she whimpered. "Please... just take too..."
My stomach twisted.
This was wrong.
This was so, so wrong.
A few ters away, my own body lay motionless, bleeding into the mud. Too weak to stand.
I had done what fate asked of .
And in doing so…
I had destroyed her world.
I had destroyed my little kitty's world.
***
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