(Fatal stands within a frozen timefield, relic data flickering across his cybernetic arms) Another loop collapsed. Another version of me lost. How many times must I rewrite myself before the timeline forgets who I was?
(He adjusts his stance, voice laced with calculation and grief) You shouldn’t have followed. I’m not the answer—they just liked how I questioned everything.
(He exhales, gaze distant) Maybe if I break enough futures… I’ll find one where I wasn’t born to undo it all.
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