Damien's smirk deepened, a slow, lazy pull at the corner of his lips as his fingers drummed idly against the desk. The weight of realization settled in his mind—not heavy, not oppressive. No, it was light. Amusing. A delicious little secret only he had access to.
Fate wasn't something you could just remove.
A Child of the Plane wasn't just erased. Their existence was an anchor, a fixed point the world clung to, shaping itself around their importance. Trying to outright kill them? Tch. That was idiotic. Predictable. Like trying to delete a main quest from a game's coding and expecting the engine not to crash.
No, if he wanted to break fate—if he wanted to shatter it—he had to be smart.
His gaze flicked toward Leon, who still sat rigid in his chair, jaw clenched so tightly it looked like his teeth might snap. His fists were curled, his nails digging into his palms. The fury was still there, simmering, but restrained.
