Fuuko didn't head for cover. She headed for the soul she knew was already suffering. In a dusty, forgotten corner of the world, a man with a blade through his chest and a curse in his veins sat waiting for a death that would never come.
The air in the Roundtable room was thick with the scent of ozone and the weight of billions of years. Fuuko Izumo stood alone, the sole bearer of a trillion memories. Behind her lay the wreckage of a world consumed by Sun; before her lay the shimmering, silent void of a new beginning. Fuuko didn't head for cover
"This time," she whispered, her fingers tracing the cold metal of the G-Liner pen, "no one gets left behind." The air in the Roundtable room was thick
The roadmap was drawn. The 101st Loop had begun, and this time, Unluck was going to be the greatest blessing the universe had ever seen. "This time," she whispered, her fingers tracing the
She plummeted through time, a streak of pink light against the black. When her boots finally hit the earth, the year was 1800. The world was young, fresh, and utterly unaware of the Rules that would soon seek to shackle it.