"Fred took it well." The knife started.

"We didn't give him a choice in his father's death. That seems different from what I've told him in the beginning."

"Yeah, oh knife that cuts the strings of fate." The woman chuckled.

"Fred didn't express any resistance to the inevitability. I wouldn't say he accepted his father's death, but he didn't question his powerlessness. Why?"

"Who knows? Ask him yourself." The woman shrugged.

"I am the knife that cuts the strings of fate. Death is nothing to me. So, why did we deny Fred a choice in the matter?"

"Mortals. They live and die. It's what they do." The woman stated.

"Why, though." The knife stated.

"Would knowing why change anything? Enough with the questions. Maybe there's an answer, maybe there's not. Besides, all this is beyond the scope of our plan."

There was an infinite pause.

"Yes." The knife affirmed. "But we need to prepare an explanation for Fred, anything."

"We both know he won't ask awkward questions. But tell him this:

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You people are living dust; your bodies rose from the earth to stand tall. From us from up high, you were bestowed selves, souls from the heavens above that descended in descent. Ground up and sky down, like two arrows pointing at each other. And you find yourselves in the middle, crushed and confused. Balanced on a tightrope with an endless abyss waiting for you all. And you will fall. And in the end, you will find yourselves in motion, aimless and directionless, until you find the way again."

"That makes no sense. But it'll do." The knife reviewed.

"Hey, I spent a lot of time on this" The woman pouted. She sipped the coffee to its end. "Let's see what Fred's up to."

The knife was gone. And so was the woman.

End of Volume 4