The Tower of Fate always felt like stepping into a place that existed outside reality—which, in fairness, it technically did. Time flowed strangely here. Light didn't come from anything visible. And the architecture shifted when you weren't looking, like the building was quietly judging your mortal perception.
Most sorcerers found the place overwhelming.
Me?I'd been coming here for decades.
The golden doors recognized my aura and parted for me without a sound. That was when I heard the familiar, resonant voice drift across the hall:
"You are late."
I rolled my eyes."Time is relative, Nabu. You of all people should understand that."
Doctor Fate floated forward, his cape drifting like it was underwater. The blue and gold armor glowed faintly in the ambient eldritch light. He didn't wear a face, but if a helmet could look disappointed, his was doing an exceptional job.
"Mortals should not treat the passage of time so casually," Fate said.
"I'm not treating it casually," I said, walking up the steps toward him. "I'm treating it realistically. Some of us don't have the luxury of being a cosmic spirit strapped to a fashion‑statement helmet."
There was a pause.
Then, from deep inside the helmet, I felt the faintest flicker of amusement.
"I suppose you are here to discuss the recent breach," Fate said.
I exhaled and rubbed the bridge of my nose."Yeah. The barrier's holding—barely. But someone strong hit it recently. Hard. Strong enough to slip a finger in."
"That would be the demon you destroyed last week," Fate said. "A Lord of the Thirty-Seventh Circle."
I grimaced. "He was persistent. And ugly. And surprisingly whiny."
"You annihilated him."
"Yeah. But he was powerful enough to slip through my barrier. That's the problem." I crossed my arms. "The world‑shield is solid, but its nature hasn't changed: weaklings bounce off, mid‑tiers can't even get close, but the truly powerful can pry open cracks."
Fate nodded. "Such is the nature of cosmic barriers. The stronger they are, the more they attract those who wish to break them."
I frowned. "Which brings us to Klarion."
Fate's cape fluttered like a sigh. "Yes. A Lord of Chaos will not forget being embarrassed."
"He started it," I muttered. "I barely got to finish one relaxing research week before he jumped into a town and murdered a few thousand people."
"You disintegrated his familiar."
"Only because he tried to vaporize me twenty‑three times."
"Twenty-seven," Nabu corrected.
"Fine. Twenty-seven."
Fate descended another inch. "Klarion is unpredictable. You must take his rage seriously."
"Oh, trust me," I said, lifting a hand and conjuring a small floating warding orb, "I have taken precautions. I upgraded my personal wards, my sanctum defenses, and the dimensional anchors. Anyone trying to teleport into my room is going to regret existing."
"Good."
I leaned against one of the constantly‑shifting pillars."So, what about you? Sense anything chaotic recently?"
"I have sensed many things," Nabu said cryptically.
I stared at him.
He stared at me.
"…Are you going to elaborate?" I asked.
"No."
"Great. Amazing. Thank you for your incredibly detailed report, helmet‑man."
"You are welcome."
I sighed.
Despite his cosmic stoicism and his occasional infuriating vagueness, Nabu was… a friend. One of the few beings in this world who understood the weight of magic at the highest level. Who understood what it meant to protect the world at a scale normal people never saw.
We met decades ago, when a demon lord tried to manifest on Earth. I'd been alone, my cloak torn, my shields cracking—seconds from being overwhelmed.
And then Fate descended in a storm of golden light and eldritch symbols, banishing the demon and stabilizing the realm.
We'd fought back‑to‑back since then.Respected each other's power.Stood guard over Earth.
And across those decades… we'd talked. Argued. Worked. Laughed silently. And formed something like a partnership.
But never—not once—had I ever hinted at the truth.
That I wasn't born here.
That I remembered another world.Another life.Entire universes of canon, lore, futures, and branching timelines.
That secret wasn't going anywhere. I'd rather eat a Chaos Lord raw.
Fate drifted beside me. "Your barrier around the world is still one of the most impressive feats of magic I have witnessed," he said. "Its flaws do not detract from its brilliance."
"…Thank you," I said softly.
"It will hold."
"I know."I inhaled. "But every slip‑through is another crisis."
"Then you will handle it."
I smirked. "So you do believe in me."
"I simply acknowledge the statistical likelihood of your success."
"That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."
He didn't deny it. Which meant I'd won.
Then the floor beneath us shimmered. A rippling wave of distorted energy pulsed outward like a heartbeat.
My head snapped up.Fate lifted a hand in response.
A dark crack—thin as a hair—cut open in the air at the far end of the hall.Chaotic energy seeped through, swirling with malicious intent.
I felt my skin crawl.
"You sense that?" I asked.
"I do."
"That's him."
"Yes."
"Klarion is poking the Tower."
"Yes."
I groaned. "He really wants attention, doesn't he?"
"Chaos is persistent."
"So is stupidity."
The crack trembled… then sealed shut.
Silence returned.
I folded my arms. "He's testing defenses. Trying to figure out where I am. Probably wants my head on a decorative stick."
"He will fail," Fate said.
"Obviously. I'm me."
Fate floated past me, drifting toward the upper sanctuary. "Remain vigilant. Chaos does not forgive humiliation."
"Neither do I."
He paused. "Do you require assistance?"
I shook my head. "Not yet. If he comes at me with something truly catastrophic, I'll call you."
"Good."
The Tower pulsed with warm golden light—Fate's equivalent of a farewell nod.
I turned toward the door.
"I'll reinforce the barrier when I get back," I said. "Maybe weave in some anti‑Chaos conductivity. Make the whole thing less welcoming."
"That would be wise."
I took one step through the doorway, then another, letting reality fold around me as the Tower gently expelled me back to Earth.
But just before the world shifted, I heard Fate's voice—calmer than usual.
"Be cautious, old friend."
I smiled.
"You too, helmet."
And then I was gone.