Waiting for the End
TIME
The Itch
For humans time is a river that flows in a single direction.
For the angels, for certain pagans, for a select few demons... the present is a familiar old swimming hole, where the past is the waterfall that crashes into it and the future is the streams that branch outwards. It still flows in a single direction, but it pools and eddies, creating change and chaos. For these creatures, these otherworldly beings, it is possible to jump in or out of the pool at will. They can run upstream, touching on the past, or down into the future if they so pleased.
Of course, the further one went from the pool, the harder it becomes to see it. The sound of falling water becomes harder to hear, and timelines branch off. It's harder to get back to the pool, and it is in the pool that these beings play. It is in the pool where change happens. It is in the pool where the possibility to influence humanity and other lesser beings is greatest.
There is no being that knows, never mind understands, what time looks like to the Creator-Father, but there are a handful of beings who believe that they are close to it. Entities that are capable of seeing all of the myriad of possibilities; they are not limited to the deep pool of the present. They are perfectly capable of seeing the withered and dying present that could have been and all the possibilities that they would have spawned.
These are the beings for whom their existence is so inextricably bound to time that they might as well be considered part of it. These are the Moirae, the Parcae, the Norns; Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos; Nona, Decima, and Morta; Skuld, Verthandi, and Urd; and so many others that claimed the titles of Fate and Destiny. They are the spinners, the weavers, the cutters, those who were entrusted to be the guiding hand in the dark, pushing Humankind onwards.
Always onwards, always forwards, always to new and fascinating heights. They have their own rules and guidelines to follow, but they are not supervised. They do not take the choice from the hands of lesser beings. If those lesser creatures stumble and fall into the muck and the mire... well. That's just free will.
And it is always so wondrous to see men bare onwards. To see them claw their way out of the darkness again and again and again.
There is a subtle grace necessary to play with the strands of the tapestry of time. One must never interfere with man s ability to chose for himself, of course. He must always be ready to push onwards and upwards, to become the next star in the night sky. If Man is to reach his potential, then their actions must be that of a stepping stone along the path to greatness
In this ever so delicate balance, Setsuna's meddling comes crashing through like a landslide. It sweeps up the old world, the old timeline, and reshapes it to her whims and wishes. Entire timelines wink out as a result of her actions, and for this the daughter of Chronos is pleased. Humanity's chances of survival and their continuing free will begin to dwindle and die as she gathers the possibilities to her and prunes out any that do not follow her plans.
She does not have the time to be subtle, not if her plans are to come to fruition. If Serenity is to ascend, if the world is to accept her as their Goddess-Queen, then everything must be perfect.
And if her heavy handed manipulations hid the movements of Hell and the actions of Heaven? Well, there was no one left alive who could open the Gates of Time; not that she was willing to listen to at any rate. She was above the demons and angels and pagans as they were above humans. This was the only correct path, the only way she could ensure the future.
Her fingers tighten around the timelines in her grasp.