How must it have been, for a savior to reach forth and offer an escape from destiny itself.

[ It makes him wonder, what sort of history would result within their worlds - all of their worlds, but his most of all - without their presence. He does not know the importance of anyone else, but his own existence in the context of his country had been as vital, as essential, as hers. The woman in his mind's eye. Bathed in light, white-haired, passionate - his mirror. ]

Is not destiny inherently mutable, then? Given the right tool.

[ His turn to posit a question to her, in the hopes of witnessing how she reacts. ]