Fate could never forget that long-planned self-detonation.
Half of her had already been destroyed by Hold Up the Heavens, while the other half had managed to cling to existence because part of her Godhead had been merged into the Doomsday Tower.
Clinging to existence was one way to put it. In truth, she had rarely been conscious, spending most of her time in a muddled haze.
Not until that deeply fateful moment, on the eve of Hold Up the Heavens returning to the past to face the deities and coming into contact with her.
Only then had a thread of consciousness coalesced from the mist, allowing her to witness her own fated beginning and that ending spanning epochs.
What followed was their act of detonating the universe with their own hands.
The progress bar reached one hundred percent, and doomsday arrived right on schedule.
This seemed less like a story of salvation than one of burning all bridges, destroying the shackles of the past, and creating a new future.
Rather than defend passively and delay doomsday's arrival, they might as well step beyond it and turn doomsday into the beginning of everything.
When the blast's aftershocks swept over her remaining consciousness, she did not dissipate as she had expected. Instead, fragments of spacetime scattered by the explosion swept her along, carrying her into the storage device called the New River of Forgetfulness.
All cause and effect was erased. In the new world, she slowly gathered herself back into a form capable of speech.
But endless bewilderment followed. The world no longer needed fate to lead it toward death, nor did living beings need fate to guide them.
For the first time, she became a living being, pondering where she should go.
She walked down the long streets of the new