Chapter Text
From the moment of its creation, the planet Chronofos was fated to die. In every timeline, in every possible conceivable path of any universe, it would be wiped from history. No survivors. The playful hands of ancient gods work in mysterious ways, and sometimes all that power leads inevitably to… collateral damage. In the grand scheme of things, this planet was nothing. Simply another tiny speck among infinite specks, a side effect of the universe's endlessness. This tragic kingdom should be forgotten by all, faded into nothingness in its own symbolic heat death. It should be nothing, mean nothing, have no impact on the rest of space and time.
Or at least it would be.
If not for him.
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From the start of his eons-long existence, Doctor Sung fostered a healthy distaste for the Fates. His philosophy was, and had been for as long as he could remember (which was not very long) that fate and destiny and all that other crap was frankly, a whole lot of bullshit. A strong believer in carving your own path and creating a future for yourself, he never feared celestial meddling in the way he had heard whispers of across the cosmos, choosing to ignore them for pursuit of a wider goal.
Although he didn't believe in destiny, Sung did believe in one constant - that he had a purpose. He would strenuously deny that this disproved his stance on fate when asked, but something, somewhere deep within the loneliest parts of his soul, called out to him with a tenacity that his stubborn nature respected and feared. While his studies of martial combat, engineering and organic anatomy kept him busy enough to fill his days with intrigue and adventure, the night brought a vulnerability that he was determined to keep hidden. Yet, as he watched the setting of countless suns across numberless skies, this thing , this dark, insidious longing… it filled him up with impatience. A call so powerful that on yet another achingly-long night, pacing the decks of his quietly-humming ship, Doctor Sung closed his eyes, wrenched away the barriers inside him, and let the call wash over him. A roar clashed in his ears as he struggled to stand, wrestling and clawing and biting at him until-
Darkness. The crashing of waves on a sandy shore. The jubilant cry of seabirds carving lines through the night sky. It is here, on the edge of existence, that Doctor Sung will find his path.
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From the dawn of time itself, she has watched over the clamouring chaos of the material world, weaving threads of fate in a glorious glowing tapestry, and gazing upon their effects on the carpet of stars and planets behind her eyes. Each stitch is woven into spacetime, so strongly embedded in the future even she would have trouble unravelling its course. This is the way it has always been, her every action reflecting in the twinkling map of everything that only she can see.
She sets her needle down for a second to survey her work, checking on the progression of events she had planned. One star born, another dies in heat and passion. She smooths her hand over the stitches and moves on. Ah. One of her ongoing projects. The black curling wisps of darkness are close now, reaching towards the little green marble hanging there unawares. Yes, they wouldn't see it until it was too late, she presumed. A rushed and harried flare of realisation and panic would ensue, a futile attempt to fight back against the inevitable for longer than is logical. Then, at the last second before Chronofos is gone forever, the people will realise there is nothing they can do.
Textbook really, if you think about it.
She's seen it infinite times before, the living reacting the same way every time. In fact, if she could she would be bored by now. She is tired of the constant mundanity of the apocalypse, and Chronofos is no different, surely?
Her eyes land upon a tiny yellow spark, fizzing and dancing towards the verdant globe, moving unlike any of her precise machinations. What is this minute entity borne of chaos? Why is it descending on the very planet about to be erased from time? Why does it even exist when she did not give it purpose to?
This was never part of the plan.