Originally posted at my AO3.
So. Mortimer found this notebook. It seems that its contents survive my… shall we say, dreams? I’m not quite sure how to describe it all. Only some things seem to persist between them, and this book appears to be one of them.
Might as well do something with it. Maybe I’ll record some meditations… or something.
First Entry
I may now be the Grim Reaper, but I have always been a good listener.
There are only fragments of what was before, fractions of memory that could have belonged to anyone that appeared on my desk.
The odd scene, notion, or phrase. They come and go, sometimes relevant, often not.
But listening? That came even more naturally to me than breathing. Though, given my undeath, that statement may be a touch weaker.
Regardless, it seemed to be a truly central part of my being. Be it residual “psychic energy” or a part of my previous ethos, it is clearly not something intended of me.
Fate’s surprise was evidence for this. The clear… turn over rate, shall we say, was another piece. While there were others, it hardly made 47 of us total. Given that we were expressly summoned as Spawns, and are purportedly immortal, it seems that there were more rebels than Fate perhaps initially anticipated.
Seems to have almost been a trend, of sorts.
Well, not that I am not rebelling against Fate, in either sense.
I tried, I truly did.
I am a listener.
But perhaps I am not much of a speaker.
I’m certainly unable to get much of a word in edgewise with Mortimer. Ha. The closest thing to a friendly face, and it’s the skeleton of a mad pirate.
But whilst I have been able to talk with Fate a great deal, it appears that I am too late.
How I am meant to bring Fate back on track, I am unsure.
Clearly it is something The Upper Management has decided I must take a part in. They are probably the ones who organised this setup.
What for, I do not yet know.
Perhaps this is just not humanity’s time to die. Perhaps Fate’s meddling is part of a higher Equilibrium that I am meant to balance out, or counteract in pre-emption of the next scheme.
As always, the purpose of all my actions, at the greater and more abstract level, escapes me. All I can do is watch and listen.
The words. The pauses. The tiny gestures. The subtext.
Watch. Listen.
Try not to screw it all up.
Again.
It wouldn’t be the first time I failed. And probably won’t be the last.
Second Entry
You know, it hurt, the first time.
I’m not sure quite what I was feeling exactly, but on reflection, to be betrayed like that must have hurt. It wasn’t immediate, rather, I felt quite numb for a while afterwards.
Perhaps it was more like a bruise — one I kept poking. Reminding myself of.
Then I inevitably ended up getting betrayed again. And again.
Yes, this time I knew what was coming. But I could never quite bring myself to confront Fate.
Not directly, anyway.
Silently hoping the tiny changes would make their way to him, such that he might have hope again.
Heh. Hope. What was that one? Pandora’s box? Maybe I was the last thing left in the box of tricks Upper Management had left. I don’t know. It’s hard to tell, given the horrible things I’ve done trying to make things right. The things I’ll keep doing.
Is it even me that matters in all that? Is Fate the one they care about? Or is it the humans?
Anyway, I keep getting sidetracked. I suppose I did say this was for my meditations, for me to journal the thoughts and ideas I’ve had along the way. Along the way to what, I don’t know. Hopefully, I’m on the way to an answer, at any rate. Perhaps it’s the Equilibrium.
Or, I fear, the point where I prove myself useless and get… terminated by Upper Management.
Eighth Entry
They say there’s a department for everything. Well, at least Fate tells me so. Does that mean there is a department for us? For beings like Fate, Mortimer, and myself? The so-called immortals, those that last for eternity?
Is there a department for the death of the universe? The end of eternity? Time, or even reality itself? What about concepts? Is there a department that might handle the death of life itself? Of love?
I mean, time flows differently here. One moment of sleep might last until the stars run cold. Who’s to say we’re not already at the end of it all, where time unravels to make this possible?
Can I even escape? Is there anything to escape to?
Does Upper Management even exist? Are they the office that will sign off when everything else dies? What about them? Will they die? What department handles their death?
Will I ever have to see myself cross my desk? Either from before my summoning, or as a Grim Reaper? Would I even recognise myself?
… These loops. They aren’t loops, really. Or cycles. Things change, even if I act the same. That’s why I’ve taken to calling them dreams. If time flows differently, then why not differently for different people? That might be why Mortimer and I can remember things.
And why Fate can’t.
Perhaps, that last day is when I wake up, and slowly make my way out from yet another dream within the dream.
Maybe I finally wake up when it’s over. Or perhaps that’s the final one, when I’m awake at last.
Maybe that’s when I’ll see myself, perhaps with a name and face I don’t recognise, but somehow just know what the paper represents.
… After all, if this is a loop, then doesn’t someone have to start it? I did have to die in order to become the Grim Reaper, didn’t I?
Twelfth Entry
So I ousted Fate.
Honestly, it didn’t make me feel happy.
Mortimer didn’t say anything when I came down, after all this time, and asked for another try.
…
If I’m honest…
I feel hollow.
I think that’s the right way to describe it.
Fate is gone, humanity progresses, and it was seemingly all as intended.
Balance. The Equation made equal at last.
Everyone was happy.
Except me. And perhaps Fate. I don’t know, his face was rather unreadable when he left.
Far too many emotions for both of us to unpack.
I think there was an element of pride, despite the personal outcome, and his loss of faith in the humans.
But there was also a deep betrayal — not unlike my own experience. That made me recoil. Realising that was the driving force behind me asking Mortimer.
Fate now felt betrayed, just as I did. Yet, there was no great relief on my part, I felt no success at revenge, and retribution did not taste sweet.
In the end, there were just two people left feeling bitter and angry and betrayed.
Almost the Last Entry
I’ve noticed something. I don’t know how I never noticed before, but this notebook only has so many pages to write in.
What a remarkable insight. I know.
It’s just, somehow, I never noticed before that there were so few pages remaining.
What happens when I run out? Do I need to get a new journal?
Or, will I just keep finding I’m near the end, without actually getting closer? Was that what was happening before? Is it only now that it is actually progressing?
Things have been going… better, for lack of a, well, better word.
It doesn’t add up yet, and it always seems to go wrong right at the end. But things seem more hopeful around here.
Perhaps the best sign is that I’ve seen Fate care about things.
He even smiled. Not in a scary, “I’ve been secretly manipulating things, and you’ve done everything I could have wanted” kind of way, either.
He just smiled.
It… it was kinda nice, actually.
It didn’t feel like I owed it to him.
The voices don’t shut up about how much I liked seeing him smile. At least they’re saying something. It’s been too quiet around here.
Maybe it is getting close to the end. Perhaps they can feel it.
I hope it’s just not the kind of end I’ve been fearing.
Last Entry… hopefully
I think… it might be done. I might have finally found it.
How long has it been? There have been so many times now that I’m glad I didn’t try to keep track. Part of me is curious, but I know that I find the thought too much to bear even considering.
I’m a little jealous of Fate.
He always complained about living for eternity. Having seen all of human history.
I had to live for eternity, seeing only a tiny bit of it. Over and over and over and over—
I need to be careful. I don’t want to break. Not again.
… It’s happened a few times now. I’ll admit, there were times that I just went through the motions. It never ends well. Like the first time, only a lot more hollow.
I don’t want to be like that, though. I had to push through, if not for myself, and if not for Fate, then for all those people that appeared on my desk that I couldn’t save.
I dare say Fate doesn’t even understand the magnitude of my undertaking. Perhaps he’s old enough to have lived through all of human history, perhaps more, but he’s never truly taken part.
Even indirectly, I have experienced so much more of it than he ever did.
Perhaps it’s one of the reasons why I still want to save them. Us. People.
And, in a way, perhaps save Fate and myself. That’d be nice.
Not that I know what comes next.
… Will this keep going?
Is it all some sick game the Upper Management play, just to watch me break?
I… I sincerely hope not.
At least let me go on a vacation first. It’s been long enough.
Perhaps I’ll head off with Fate, to wherever he goes. I hope it’s somewhere sunny. With flowers.
It’s not as if I have anyone else to go with. Maybe he’ll finally finish his book. I’ve never had the chance to read it, though hopefully, it will be less morbid than I suspect.
More a story of the human eternity he got to witness, rather than the history he tried to extinguish.
…
Maybe I’ll write something myself. Something small. Not as grand or epic as a story about life and death, and the weight of eternity. I don’t think I’d want to recount such a tale anyway.
Something simple. Well, honestly, no matter what I do, anything’s better than this.
Perhaps it was never quite so certain, you know? Death and taxes, that is.
… Well, anyway, I think it’s time to finish this journal. Conveniently, this is the last page left to write on. The more I think about it, the more I feel it isn’t by accident. I’ll probably find some way to seal this, perhaps lock it away in a drawer or something.
Or… I’ll give it to Mortimer. He might appreciate something like this. He’d probably laugh at the terrible drawings, though.
Perhaps I’ll let Fate have a read at some point. I’m not sure if that’s the best idea, but he always appreciated my honesty. Perhaps I’ll invite him for a drink first.
It’s a long story, after all.
We have a lot to talk about.