I was confused.
What did he mean by 'Fate isn't heaven's will'?
Then what was it?
Frowning, I was about to press him for an answer when Michael suddenly raised another, equally important question.
"If the restraints are going to rot away on their own anyway, and fate cannot be changed, then why are you even trying to kill us?" He asked. "You said it yourself. Leaving one of us aside, we aren't supposed to die right now. So why bother?"
Vaeghar looked almost amused at that, like he'd been asked something absurd, on the level of why the sky was blue or fire was hot.
"Just because the course of a story is already decided," he explained calmly, "doesn't mean its characters must stop performing, right?"
He lifted one clawed hand. Around him, the suspended droplets of lilac water trembled harder, some bursting into mist as if crushed by invisible pressure.
We tensed, preparing for another attack that didn't come immediately.
