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Fate (Lost Dimension)

Well hello dear reader! I haven't been here in a LONG time but I guess I'm basically back now. I'm not gonna be writing any flourishing trainer fics again any time soon (I'm honestly still on a small burnout) and I don't think you'll be seeing Pokemon content for a long time, but I've been trying to get back into the groove of writing with small one-shots and I finished off this small one the other day. I played and finished Lost Dimension around a week ago now and it's no masterpiece, but all of the game's elements combine to make me feel emotional regardless and this is now one of my favourite games ever. The villain of the game, The End, isn't the best villain of anything I've ever played but he somehow ended up being the focus of this piece, so yeah I guess you can take this lil one shot I made to get my writing rhythm going again.

Warning: this contains major spoilers for Lost Dimension, which is a game I'd HEAVILY recommend experiencing blind - the fic also makes more sense if you know the game's context. I'd also put it at around PG for frequent mentions of death but nothing graphic. I hope you enjoy this mini warmup piece!


Fate is a two-bladed sword.

If you don’t believe me, think – two people ideal for each other meeting is fate, and that’s something beautiful. Someone being sentenced to death next month is also fate, and that’s something terrible. For every opportunity a person gets, another has those opportunities taken away from them, and that’s just the world we live in and must cope with.

It’s simple enough – one person’s glory is another’s downfall. Those gifted by fate toss those cursed by fate to the wayside, forgetting all about the cruelty they’ve committed in their ignorant bliss. The world rewards the lucky, and punishes the less fortunate.

You never really notice this until the blade is being held to your neck, and you know that fate has chosen you to be a victim rather than a victor. Only when fate chooses to erase you, do you truly understand how cruel a mistress she can be.

Now she’s chosen to slice her blade through a whole world, dooming it to die.

There’s something almost horrifically funny about how the fortunate react when they’re finally taken down a peg. They desperately try to find control of the situation, stumbling and panicking and making rash decisions that only make their predicament worse. I could almost laugh.

That is, had they not made an even crueller decision than fate’s in their rashness.

Humanity is selfish, there is no denying that anymore. The fortunate, with their technology and research material, chose that rather than saving their world, making a new world would be better. A replica, where their death isn’t inevitable, leaving the old world and its residents behind like the dirty cowards they are. When the fortunate were given one gleaming chance by fate, they chose the easiest route they could. The fortunate tossed the doomed to the wayside, like any other day.

However, their cruelty extends even further. The new world came into being thanks to two of twelve children, gifted by both fate and the fortunate, with enough combined power to do unthinkable miracles. The fortunate who were able to gift those powers promised the twelve children they could be safe from the harm the old world was coming to, that they would make a new future in a new world.

The fortunate didn’t feel fate’s blade when they learned only six children could pass into the new world or both worlds would fall. The fortunate didn’t care when they handpicked one chosen boy to send six back to the old world. The fortunate didn’t stop to comfort when we were condemned to death yet again.

To throw one last cowardly act into their growing list, the fortunate erased the doomed six’s memories before casting us back into the old world, to live innocently and wait for our own demise without remembering those who didn’t even try to save us.

Oh, but I remembered. Being one of the two children who managed to form the new world, I could see every alternate dimension and choice that could’ve been made. One couldn’t simply forget what happened that day we were condemned when they have the power to see it over and over again, knowing that they were chosen for fate’s blade every time.

Knowing that a more fortunate world where those who condemned you are living blissfully would make anyone sick to the bone. The time of destruction is nearly upon the old world – my world – and yet nobody in the new world is even aware of what’s being sacrificed just so they can keep mindlessly wandering around every day, never seeing the value of what they’ve been given.

Is this really something that can be called an “honourable sacrifice”? Is sitting around waiting for our own deaths the only possibility available to us here? The fortunate who tossed us aside seem to think so, considering they never stopped to consider other possibilities beyond the first idea their egos told them was perfect.

Maybe they are right. Only six powerful children remain in this world, and six people can’t save a whole world just like that. Unlike the incredibly unstable new world, the old world could take all twelve of us – yet another thing the careless fortunate forgot, thinking that tampering with fate could do more for good than harm.

Or maybe they’re wrong. If the six of the old world could gain the power of the new world… we could create a miracle. The old world would be saved, and the new world could continue their careless lives as per normal.

Of course, a lot of planning would be needed. Getting the children in the old world and the children in the new world to the same place, helping the residents of the old world remember…

Would the new world children care? Well, not that it matters. I dislike all of them very much anyway… the child gifted with vision in particular. The child who left us all behind. He deserves to feel the weight of the sins he left in the old world. He doesn’t deserve a second chance at saving us.

Heh… this plan can serve as more than a last chance to save the world. It may finally be time to make that child understand what he did ten years ago.

It must be fate, mustn’t it?