Raymond stepped out of the venue, the flashing lights of cameras chasing him like restless fireflies. A confident smile curved on his lips, his freshly arranged teeth gleaming beneath the evening sun. He lifted a hand, brushing back his neatly styled hair before addressing the impatient crowd.
"I'll answer all your questions in the city center by six," he said smoothly, his voice carrying both charm and authority. "For now, I'm busy."
Alastor immediately raised an arm, blocking the swarm of reporters who surged forward. "No more questions, please!" he barked, his commanding tone silencing the chaos.
With a casual wave, Raymond's sleek Tesla-343 glided open, its futuristic design humming with quiet power. He slid into the driver's seat, and the car whispered forward, leaving the murmuring crowd behind.
Inside the quiet that followed, Rose tilted her head, frowning. "You know… I'm confused."
Jerry raised a brow. "About what?"
"About everything," she admitted softly. "It feels like our lives are tangled together… like some invisible thread binds us."
Johnson let out a lazy yawn. "A network."
Angela blinked in surprise. "How so? I don't see any connection between us."
"Hmph. I don't really care, but I can feel it," Johnson muttered, his tone carrying a hint of resignation.
Jerry leaned forward, his eyes glinting. "Do you believe in fate?"
"Should I?" Johnson shot back. "Because honestly, I don't think my life was ever planned out for me."
Mary gasped softly, almost scandalized. "Why do you think that? Don't you believe it's the will of God? Wasn't it fate that brought Jerry's father to meet Alastor?"
Johnson's eyes darkened, his voice low and edged with defiance. "No. Raymond is rich because he made choices—not because of fate."
Rose's thoughtful gaze lingered on him. "But fate can be rejected. Can't it?"
Johnson turned sharply. "Huh?"
The tension thickened.
"Dude, that's messed up," Johnson finally snapped, his voice cracking under the weight of unspoken grief.
Angela tried to intervene gently. "I think you both should—"
But Jerry raised a hand, calm yet unwavering. "Everything lies within God's will," he said. "But He gave us the freedom to choose or reject it."
Johnson scoffed, his frustration boiling over. "So what? If you were fated to destroy the world, would you just… do it?"
Jerry shrugged. "I can't control God, can I?"
"What the hell, bro?!" Johnson's voice rose, raw and trembling. "So everything—everything that happens in this damned world—is just fate? Some old woman spinning threads that dictate my life? Then why am I even alive?!" He pushed himself to his feet, his chest heaving as pain spilled into his words. "If everything I gain or lose, every feeling, every moment, was already written for me… then do I truly live?"
Mary's voice broke softly. "Johnson… why do you think you don't matter?"
His eyes shimmered, unshed tears brimming. "Because I've always known. I've always felt it. That no matter how close I get to anyone, in the end… I don't matter. I've seen the end of every relationship before it even begins." He turned suddenly, his wet eyes pinning Alastor. "And now I'm forced to reconsider everything. Don't you agree?"
Alastor crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. "It's just a phase, kid. You'll grow, and you'll understand how the world works. But…"
His pause left a sting in the air.
Rose's sharp gaze narrowed on him. "Explain, Alastor. You're the oldest among us, aren't you? Thousands of years alive—you must know better."
A low chuckle escaped him. "I'm not the oldest. He is." He pointed at Jerry.
Jerry took a slow sip from his glass of cold juice. "I don't even remember most of it, bro."
"Fair point," Alastor conceded, his tone softening. He leaned forward slightly, voice steady. "Listen. Fate and free will work together. If it's your fate to be someone, and you reject it, you'll still become that someone… but in a way you might not like."
Johnson shook his head fiercely. "You're a demon. You don't understand love, family, bonds… That's why you talk as if we're machines. But I'm asking you seriously: what is free will if I'm fated to be something anyway?"
Jerry sighed, raising a brow. "Make your point already, man. You're circling the same thing over and over. I need to finish my story."
Johnson's chest rose and fell. His next words came quieter, almost broken. "I'll just say it then. My dad and I… we were close. Rose was closer to our mother. But everything changed when they died in that fire." His voice cracked, tears spilling freely now. He turned his anguished gaze to Jerry. "Tell me, would you say my parents died because of fate? If you had cancer, and only twenty-four hours to live, would you accept death just because it's 'God's will'?"
Angela reached out, gently patting his arm. "It's okay, Johnson. I understand. Sometimes it's hard to see the purpose in everything… But you're right. We do have the choice to follow fate—or carve a path of our own."
Jerry leaned back, his tone thoughtful, almost weary. "Not gonna lie, I ask myself the same question all the time. 'Am I really doing what I want? Or am I just walking down someone else's path?'"
Johnson clenched his fists, his voice breaking as he stared at Jerry.
"So you're saying all of this was meant to happen? That my parents' deaths were written down somewhere in the stars, and I'm just supposed to accept it? If fate is real, then what the hell is the point of free will?!"
The air between them grew heavy. Even Rose, who had been quietly watching, shifted uncomfortably at the pain in Johnson's tone.
Jerry didn't flinch. His glasses caught the dim light as he leaned forward, his voice calm but unyielding.
"You're mixing them up, Johnson. Fate doesn't erase free will. Fate is the hand you're dealt—the board, the rules, the things you can't change. Free will is how you play with those cards, how you move across that board."
Johnson laughed bitterly, but his eyes glistened.
"Easy for you to say! You didn't wake up one day to blood on your hands, to a future stolen before you could even fight for it! If everything is destined, then all my choices are meaningless!"
Jerry's gaze softened, but he didn't look away. He let Johnson's anger spill out like a storm before replying, his words quiet yet sharp as a blade.
"No. That's where you're wrong. Fate doesn't decide who you are—it only decides the stage. You lost your parents, yes. That pain was carved into your story, and you can't undo it. But the man you became after—that's not fate, Johnson. That's you. Every decision you made in the ashes, every time you chose to rise instead of break—that was your will. Not destiny."
Johnson's lips trembled, his fury cracking into silent anguish. His hands shook as memories clawed their way back—his father's voice, his mother's touch, the silence after they were gone.
"So what… what am I supposed to believe? That their deaths were fate, but my suffering is my own fault? That's twisted, Jerry!"
Jerry leaned closer, his tone firmer, almost pleading.
"No, Johnson. Listen. Fate gave you the loss. Free will gives you the choice of what to do with that loss. You can chain yourself to it forever, or you can forge something out of it. Fate built the prison, but free will is the key. Do you get it now?"
The silence that followed was deafening. Even Angela held her breath. Rose, sitting beside Jerry, slowly reached for his hand—not to interrupt, but to ground him.
Johnson's chest rose and fell sharply, his rage dimming into a raw, wounded quiet. He didn't answer, not yet. But his eyes—the storm in them was shifting, even if just slightly.
Mary frowned, confused. "What do you mean?"
Jerry's gaze softened as he turned to Rose, brushing her cheek with his fingertips. "Let me show you. What do you feel right now?"
Her cheeks flushed crimson as she turned away, her heart pounding. "I… I guess I'm happy."
"That," Jerry whispered with a rare, genuine smile. "That pounding in your chest, that warmth… it's yours. Nobody gave it to you. Nobody forced it on you. From that feeling comes your thoughts, your beliefs, your faith, your personality. We weren't made to serve fate—we were made to live, to love, and to choose. So yes, John, maybe fate opens some doors. But it's always our choice to step through—or walk away."
Johnson drew a long breath, shoulders trembling. At last, he nodded. "Fair point. Let's continue your story."
Jerry smirked faintly and snapped his fingers.
- The scenery shifted.
The bustling square of Techno City unfolded before them, filled with a roaring crowd. Flags rippled in the air, and dignitaries from across the nation sat in reserved seats. At the front row, Raymond sat proudly beside Tiana, his beautiful fiancée.
Tiana's eyes brimmed with tears as she leaned closer. "I was shocked when the doctors told me… my womb was restored. I'm so happy, Raymond."
Raymond's hand clasped hers, his voice thick with emotion. "I'd do anything for you, Tiana. And I'm the one who's grateful—for everything you've done for me."
She smiled softly, tears spilling down her cheeks. "We're in this together. Always. I might be late for work today, but I don't care… not if it means spending more time with you."
Raymond's lips quirked into a small smile. "Don't work there anymore. We have enough. I can take care of us."
Her eyes widened, a playful disbelief sparking in them. "Are you really ready to start giving me money? You trust me that much?"
He nodded without hesitation. "I trust you with everything I am. I love you—not for what you've done, not for what you can give me. But because you've always been there… even when I wasn't there for myself."
She flushed, laughter bubbling through her tears as she leaned in for a kiss. "You're going to make me blush to death…"
Their lips met, and for a fleeting moment, the roar of the crowd faded, leaving only the warmth of love.
The evening air was heavy with anticipation. The city center glowed under a canopy of lights, banners fluttering, and countless eyes fixed upon the man at the podium. Raymond stood tall, his voice steady yet warm, echoing through the plaza.
"I would not be here today," he began, his tone rising with conviction, "without my beloved friend, my sister, my mentor, my helper, my assistant… my love, my everything. She is the only person who kept me sane during those troubling days. And I am forever grateful to God for blessing me with a lady like this."
His words rolled like thunder across the crowd, stirring murmurs and sparks of emotion. Many leaned forward, eager, expectant. Raymond extended a hand toward the audience, his gaze softening.
"Please, with a standing ovation… welcome Tiana Cronswett to the stage.
The moment her name left his lips, the square erupted. Cheers broke into the night, applause thundering as people rose from their seats in waves. Tiana—graceful, radiant, her beauty sharpened by the glow of the evening—stepped onto the podium. Her dark hair shimmered beneath the spotlights, her every step delicate, yet commanding. The applause surged louder, joy and awe mixing with whispers that carried through the air.
And then, before anyone could predict it, Raymond moved.
He turned, his knees bending until he sank down before her, the sight of him kneeling shocking the plaza into silence. Gasps rippled across the crowd. Even Tiana herself froze, her lips parting in disbelief.
"Oh my God…" she whispered, her voice trembling. "Raymond, you don't have to—please, stand, baby—"
But Raymond's eyes never wavered. He looked up at her, his voice breaking yet full of resolve.
"I know. But I must ask. We've come this far—through back and forth trials, through joy and suffering. We've loved each other for so long, and I can't let this end without sealing it forever." His voice carried into the hearts of all present, raw and vulnerable. "Tiana, please… I don't want our relationship to ever end. Will you marry me?"
For a heartbeat, the city held its breath. The world seemed frozen around them. Then, with tears glistening in her eyes, Tiana bent down, lifting him up gently. Her lips pressed against his in a kiss so tender, the silence shattered into a storm of cheers.
"Yes…" she breathed against his lips, her heart pounding. She pulled back just enough to gaze into his eyes. "That's my answer. I love you, Raymond. Let's get married."
The plaza exploded. Cameramen scrambled, flashes bursting like lightning as the scene was broadcast across the nation. Raymond slid a gleaming diamond ring onto her slender finger. The jewel caught the floodlights, sparkling like a star, sealing their union in front of all. They kissed again, passion meeting destiny.
Alastor, seated among the crowd, leaned back with a smile, his voice a soft murmur of pride. "As expected of my master… he has found his wife. Congratulations."
The cheers grew louder, joy rumbling like thunder across the square. Children clapped, elders wept, strangers embraced. It was a moment etched forever into memory.
But Raymond was not finished. Pulling away, still holding Tiana's hand, he turned back toward the audience, his voice rising once more.
"But that is not all, my friends." His eyes burned with conviction. "As mayor of both Smart City and Hub City, I know one man alone cannot bear this weight. And so, I have chosen someone—someone who has proven through sweat, sacrifice, and heart—that true leaders are not born from privilege, but from perseverance."
He paused, letting the suspense grow until the silence was suffocating.
"You know him. He was once a worker at Rutherford Wagons. He lived as one of you. And now, he will stand as your leader. Ladies and gentlemen… I present to you the new mayor of Hub City—Mr. Thomas Hart!"
The roar of the crowd shook the plaza.
"I'm so happy today!" cried one citizen, tears streaming.
"I can't believe it," another shouted. "Thomas Hart volunteered during the reconstruction of the slums. He gave everything for us!"
A third voice rang out, awed: "I heard he married a beautiful lady who worked alongside him. Hard work truly pays off."
"He was just a cleaner," another whispered, voice breaking. "Abused by his superiors… trapped in the lowest position. And now look at him."
"Well," a man laughed through tears, "if Raymond trusts him, then so do we. We've seen what he can do. Even before becoming mayor, he proved himself!"
"Yh!" another cheered. "I'm happy for the new couple! This is our victory too!"
The voices blended into a single roar of celebration, a symphony of joy and hope.
Thomas himself ascended the podium, trembling with emotion. He embraced Raymond briefly, his voice cracking as he spoke.
"Thank you. Thank you so much!" He turned to the crowd, raising his hands. "I am grateful for this opportunity… to become the mayor of this great city. I swear before you all, I will serve the people, and I will make every life better!"
Raymond smiled as he placed the symbolic golden key of Hub City into Thomas' hands. Flashbulbs flared, the stage bathed in light.
And as the night deepened, the image of two leaders—Raymond with his bride-to-be, and Thomas with his new destiny—was captured in photographs that would define an era.
The city did not merely witness history. It birthed it.