The first ability was Casual rewrite, it was a universal law-level ability that allows the user to select a single event in the past; personal, planetary, or cosmic, and rewrite its outcome by anchoring it to a new cause.
The further back the change, the higher the energy cost. But once changed, reality restructures itself around the new cause as if it had always been that way.
Quintessa's eyes flickered with incredulity and shock. Merita who was standing beside her saw the expression on her, "what's wrong" she asked looking concerned.
"The Drive has two new abilities," Quintessa said, her voice steady but solemn.
"What kind of ability could even make you react like that?" Merita asked, leaning forward, her eyes sharp with curiosity.
The others didn't need to eavesdrop, they could hear everything. None of them used telepathy. There was no need for secrecy here.
They were in the same sinking ship; either they lived together, or they died together. And as for betrayal… time always revealed such things.
Quintessa inhaled slowly, then spoke.
She explained the first ability in full.
When she finished, the entire platform went still. Then came the collective reaction; a sharp intake of breath, widened eyes, and even a few murmured curses. The same shock she'd felt earlier was now being felt by all of them.
"This isn't just time manipulation," Merita said, her voice low and serious. "This is something far more dangerous… and I imagine the price to use it must be equally absurd."
"Thankfully it's in our hands," said another. "If the enemy had this…" He didn't finish the sentence. He didn't need to.
"Why didn't the Eye that granted the permission notice this broken ability?"Quintessa wondered, her thoughts uneasy. "Or… could it not?"
If the Eye was truly a force meant to uphold universal order as she assumed, why had it stayed silent? Why had it allowed something so dangerously law-defying to exist?
Quintessa extended her senses once more, reaching deeper into the Oracle Drive's core.
Then, she flinched. Her foot slid half a step back.
Merita raised an eyebrow. "What now? Don't tell me the second one's even more perverse than the first."
Quintessa didn't respond immediately. Her eyes remained fixed on the Drive, the glow of its spinning rings reflected in her irises.
Then she spoke, her voice low and solemn.
"Yes. This ability… it's the most reality-breaking thing I've ever seen."
That made every figure on the platform turn to face her. Even those who had seen stars collapse and cosmic empires fall leaned in slightly, silently waiting.
Quintessa exhaled, calming her thoughts.
"It's called—Fate Lock." The name sounded simple. But as soon as she began to explain, the weight behind her words pulled the air from the platform.
"This ability," Quintessa began, "allows one to bind a desired outcome into existence—anchoring it so deeply into the causal laws that not even the most powerful existence can undo it.
Not even time manipulation can interfere, because the outcome exists in every possible timeline of the universe."
She paused, letting the words settle in.
"Once sealed, it becomes absolute. A fixed point in reality. Only the user can release it."
A heavy silence followed.
Then she added quietly, "But the energy and strength required to use it… it's beyond reason. Nearly impossible."
Vorex, arms crossed, tilted his head with a half-smirk. "Well, energy is a cost in everything. But are all Cosmic Fate weapons this absurdly broken?"
Some of the figures exchanged glances, relief flickering across their expressions.
"Imagine what would've happened if we didn't have a common enemy," one figure muttered to another quietly. "And she had this Cosmic Fate weapon all to herself."
"Indeed," the other replied with a nod. "It would've been a dangerous situation. But don't forget, we have our own cosmic weapons that can rival hers if we upgrade them. And didn't Merita say she had another vial of that liquid?"
"You're right…" the first figure mused, his gaze sliding toward Merita. "She should offer it to the group. If we could forge another weapon like this, we'd be able to defend ourselves against our enemies better."
Another voice joined in. "Agreed. It's only logical." He paused, then sent a silent telepathic message to someone else on the platform, voicing his idea.
The idea spread like wildfire. In just a few moments, quiet agreements turned into a wave of nods.
Nine of them now stood in silent, subtle unity, each one now staring at Merita with thinly veiled expectation.
Quintessa, still lost in her thoughts, finally looked up and saw that every gaze was now focused on Merita.
"What's going on?" Quintessa asked, her voice cutting through the silence as she felt the sudden shift in the air.
Merita's eyes narrowed as she also sensed it too.
Then a tall figure cloaked in cosmic mist stepped forward. Dresmas. His presence was always heavy, but now it carried a subtle pressure.
"We would like Merita to offer us the second vial," he said plainly. "So we may create another Cosmic Fate weapon."
The words dropped like a stone into still water.
Quintessa's mind clicked instantly. "So that's it. They're afraid. Not of the enemy… but of me. Afraid of my weapon. Afraid I might one day turn it on them. And now they want something that can counterbalance it."
Merita, too, understood. But she remained composed, her expression calm.
She then spoke slowly, carefully. "First, we must identify the true nature of our enemy. Once we understand the scale of the threat—if it proves overwhelmingly powerful—then yes, I will give the vial to forge another Fate weapon."
She paused, then added with quiet weight, "But if the enemy is not beyond what we can handle… then we should destroy the enemy, and afterward, seal Quintessa's weapon for the balance of the universe."
Her voice stayed calm, even as she added, "Though it would be unfair to her, we will offer her another cosmic weapon in return."
The air grew colder.
"And what if she acts before we seal it?" someone asked from the back.
Merita turned toward the voice. Her gaze was sharp now. "Then we bind it with an oath. All of us. Upon the laws."
"If she were to act before the agreed sealing time, she would lose her power and become mortal. And if any of us move against her after the sealing… we would suffer the same fate."
"Well, that's quite the harsh punishment," Vorex said with a faint smile, his tone casual but thoughtful.
Dresmas stepped forward, gaze fixed on Merita. "And what about your vial? It could forge another Cosmic Fate weapon."
"That would be sealed as well," Merita replied instantly.
Her lack of hesitation made Dresmas narrow his eyes. "Too quick. Too certain. Does she have more than one vial? Or more than two?"
Before he could speak, the Ancient Robot's voice sounded from the side. "What if we used the vial now? Instead of creating just one weapon, we could forge two. The second could be our contingency… if the first one fails."
"I don't think anything could surpass this reality-breaking weapon," another figure said with a faint scoff. "With this in hand, we may as well declare victory now. Our enemies will vanish."
Quintessa shook her head slightly. "It's not that simple. We'd still need an unimaginable amount of energy to activate it. Just having the weapon doesn't guarantee anything."
The Ancient Robot stepped forward, his metallic limbs clicking softly as he moved toward the edge of the platform. He stopped and turned.
"Then what if we used the liquid from the vial as energy instead of crafting a second weapon? I've already run the calculations, it's possible."
He paused. "But… the Plan B I designed won't work without it."
The platform fell into a heavy silence. Tension thickened as their minds raced; calculating, analyzing, and weighing possibilities and consequences.
Dresmas finally broke the silence.
"I may have a solution. But it's… not morally sound."
That got everyone's attention.
Vorex turned to him, intrigued. "Oh? And what would that be?"
Dresmas straightened his posture. "We use the energy of an entire timeline. Drain it entirely."
The statement hung in the air like a guillotine.
He continued, calm and composed. "Although, it's not a good choice. But think about it—sacrificing one timeline to preserve billions. One collapse to prevent total erasure."
Murmurs spread across the group. Some slightly frowned. Others nodded slowly.
Merita crossed her arms. "You're not wrong… but doing this means we're no better than the enemy we want to stop."
"Perhaps," Dresmas said. "But in war, the lines between right and wrong tend to blur, especially when you're fighting to keep reality itself from unraveling."
Merita's eyes narrowed. "Draining an entire timeline…" she repeated as if testing how the words tasted on her tongue. "That's not just sacrifice, Dresmas. That's annihilation. Every soul, every story, every potential… erased."
"We're not talking about a living universe," Dresmas replied smoothly. "We can target an already destabilized timeline. One that's is eroded or due for collapse."
"And who decides which timeline is worth less than the others?" Vorex asked, his usual humor gone from his voice. "You? Me? What gives any of us the right to play judge, jury, and executioner over a timeline's fate?"
"We're not playing god," the Ancient Robot said coldly in its mechanical voice. "We are gods—at least to those within timelines. It's better they die unknown, forgotten than the entire universe fall into ruin."
Quintessa remained quiet, her gaze on the Oracle Drive. The drive's new abilities were beyond anything they had prepared for.
Yet now, they were discussing harvesting the lifeblood of an entire timeline to power it and it was supposed to save these timelines.
"There has to be another way," she said quietly.
"Sentiment," the ancient robot said. "You hesitate because you still think like someone bound by moral chains. I admire it, but we don't have time for purity, Quintessa."
"And you," she turned to face him sharply, "are so used to viewing existence as systems and data that you've forgotten lives are inside those timelines. Not just numbers. People."
A heavy silence followed.
Then another figure, shrouded in violet smoke, finally spoke. "I agree with Dresmas."
"If sacrificing one already-corrupt timeline secures the survival of countless others, then it's not evil, it's strategy."
"No," Merita cut in, her voice firm. "It's still evil. It's just justified evil. Let's not pretend we're clean."
Vorex let out a sigh. "So we draw the line at full destruction… but we're all fine with forging weapons that bend causality, rewrite the past, and seal fate absolutely. Hypocrisy much?"
"The difference," Quintessa said calmly, "is control. Those things shift the flow of events, we don't erase the entire timeline to do it."
The Ancient Robot chimed in again. "If you want to win this war without losing yourself… you'll have to ask what's more important—the soul of the decision-maker, or the survival of the universe."
"I don't think we should be debating morality right now," Vorex said, his voice steady. "We don't even know who, or what, we're facing. We let fear steer the conversation and almost lost sight of our true goal."
His words cut through the tense mood. One by one, the others nodded in quiet agreement. No one argued. No one objected.
All eyes turned to Quintessa. She gave a small nod and raised her hand, pointing to the outer edge of the platform.
"Everyone, step onto the smaller circular arrays," she said. "We'll begin the cosmic divination now