“Let’s view Fate like a puppet show.”
“They say that fate manifests as a series of strings that leads you through life in a very precise manner.”
“Like puppets to the hands of an unseen puppeteer all people in this reality follow the lead of the strings which bind them.”
“Should your strings be attached to a book, you are forced to pick it up.”
“The puppet master manipulating your arms to grab it.”
“Or your string leads you down a winding path towards an inevitable end.”
“Your leg strings would be pulled over and over to make you run that way.”
“However, there’s something ever so interesting about string theory, you know. The strings aren’t connected to inanimate objects.”
“They’re strung to living things, things which wish to fight the pull of fate’s powerful hands.”
“So what are they to do? No amount of pulling will break those strings, they’re too strong, too taught.”
“No, the answer is as simple as it comes, occam’s razor if you will.”
“Stop pulling the strings and instead simply cut them.”
“Defy your gods, defy your masters, and let fate snap away in one fell swoop as your blade cleaves wire.”
“Only then will you truly be free of will.”
“Chronoa, OSW has been home to quite a few puppet masters in its time of existence. The likes of Red River Jack, Edward Newton, and even Simon find themselves decorated as those who can manipulate others to their will.”
“But you and I know the truth, don’t we?”
“It wasn’t their own machinations that allowed them to succeed, it was the strings of fate working to their advantage. The puppets who shared their stage were destined to follow their lead as they all danced in row with the hands of fate.”
“With your hands.”
“Everything happens for a reason, Chronoa. You may believe yourself to be an enforcer of fate, the one who manipulates our little puppet paddles, but the reality of the matter is far different than that.”
“Not all of us are under your control, fate keeper. Some of us follow our own path separate of what fate had planned for us.”
“Some of us abandoned your pitiful little stage show for a greater purpose.”
“And well, the man who defies you and your strings? He’s me.”
“You see, I am a special case, Chronoa. An anomaly in your reality. I am a being that not even death was capable of killing, a puppet off of his strings running freely across the stage.”
“And how did I achieve this, you ask?”
“I cut my strings.”
“With time in one hand and reality in the other I forced a pair of scissors so sharp not even fate could resist them. I snipped my strings.”
“Freed my will.”
“I have much to do, Chronoa, much to achieve. My freedom from fate’s hands started years ago.”
“And using it to crush you into the ground will be another exercise in my freedom.”
“I have walked this path before, I shall walk it once more.”