I stiffened. "They're not?"
"Oh, some of them are," Damien admitted, albeit strangely, "You refusing to be the villain? That definitely threw a wrench in things. But this?" He chuckled.
"You're not the only one playing around with fate, kid."
A sickening feeling held itself onto my stomach. "Then who?"
"Tch. Who else? The god of this world, of course."
My breath hitched. "What?"
"Bingo."
I felt cold.
The god of this world.
The one who wrote The Book of Sin.
The one who created the system.
Theonewhodesignedthisentireworld.
If Damien was right, if these changes weren't just because of me, but because of that unknown god, then…
This wasn't just a deviation.
This was a rewrite.
And I had no idea what the new script looked like.
I swallowed hard, my gaze snapping to Venus. He was still watching Sylvie's cocoon of flames, his expression unreadable.
I needed answers. Now.
"Careful," Damien murmured, almost lazily. "He's not going to give you much."
