Fallen Star’s Log: You Do Not Control Fate or Reality

  Date: [The Universe Remains Unmoved]

  Log ID: Fallen Star (Because someone needs to bring clarity to this madness.)

  Reynolds is spiraling again.

  It is not unexpected.

  He has seen too much, done too much, changed too much.

  He believes that his mere presence bends reality.

  That his will shapes the impossible.

  That he is responsible for everything unfolding before him.

  But he is wrong.

  He does not control fate.

  He does not command reality.

  He is simply a man.

  And that is enough.

  Phase One: The Weight on Reynolds’ Shoulders

  I find him where I expected him to be.

  Sitting at his desk, surrounded by schematics, contingency plans, and equations that cannot hold the weight of the world he is trying to carry.

  His hand is shaking.

  Not from fear.

  Not from exhaustion.

  But from the overwhelming belief that he has done something irreversible.

  "They’re twins," he mutters. "What if—what if I did this? What if it’s me? What if I willed them into being just by existing?"

  I sit across from him.

  And I watch.

  Because this is not a man who believes he is powerful.

  This is a man terrified of the consequences of his own existence.

  Phase Two: The Reassurance He Needs

  "Reynolds."

  He looks up.

  "You do not control fate."

  He frowns.

  "You don’t know that. You’ve seen what happens around me. I break things. I warp things. What if—"

  "You do not control fate," I repeat.

  "You do not shape reality by thought alone."

  "You do not dictate the course of existence."

  "You are not the reason your wife is having twins."

  He runs a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply.

  "Then explain it."

  "Some things simply are."

  "You cannot rewrite a river, Reynolds. You cannot will a mountain into dust. The Architects tried, and they failed. Reality is not a thing you hold in your hands. It is not yours to command."

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  "Then why does it feel like it is?"

  "Because you stand where no one else has stood before. And when you walk a path no one else has walked, every step feels like the first of its kind."

  "But that does not mean the path was not always there."

  Phase Three: The Truth He Must Accept

  "Reynolds."

  "You are not a god."

  "You do not will things into existence."

  "Your children are yours—not because the universe bent to you, but because life finds a way to persist, even in the strangest of places."

  "You are not the cause of everything, and you do not carry the weight of all things."

  "You are simply a man."

  "A man who has fought impossible battles, yes."

  "A man who has defied the Architects, yes."

  "But still a man.**"

  "And men do not control the stars."

  "They only walk beneath them."

  He leans back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling.

  I watch him process this.

  The way his shoulders loosen, just slightly.

  The way his breathing evens out.

  Because he knows I am right.

  Because he never wanted to be a god.

  Because he only ever wanted to survive.

  And he has.

  And now?

  Now he must learn to simply live.

  Phase Four: The Future That Awaits Him

  "So what do I do?" he asks, quieter now.

  "You do what all fathers do," I say. "You prepare. You hope. You protect. And you accept that some things are beyond your hands."

  "You walk forward, Reynolds."

  "And you let life unfold as it was always meant to."

  He laughs, but there’s relief in it.

  "You make it sound so simple."

  "Because it is."

  "Then why does it feel impossible?"

  "Because you have spent so long defying everything that you have forgotten what it means to simply be."

  "You are not writing a new story, Reynolds."

  "You are living it."

  "And life, no matter how strange, has always found a way to go on."

  Final Thoughts (Reynolds Does Not Control Reality—But He Must Learn to Live in It)

  ? He does not control fate.

  ? He does not control reality.

  ? He is not responsible for the impossible weight he thinks he carries.

  ? He is simply a man, walking forward into the unknown.

  I don’t know if he will ever truly believe it.

  But I do know this—

  For the first time in a long time, he breathes easier.

  And that is enough.

  End Log.