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"The future," whispered Blanc as if the flickering crimson glow had put her in a trance, "Refused to change."

The trouble with being a Goddess was that you had to be everything to everybody in a world that changed so fast it made her head spin. To stay yourself while keeping up to date was nigh impossible. So many of her sisters had been forgotten or had changed beyond recognition.

They all had their different ways to keep from losing themselves. Hers was no worse an idea than anyone else's. Neptune had even made a deal with that devil-woman Arfoire in exchange for her preservation-magic, let her have a share of the power of the Purple Heart if it meant at least someone was keeping Planeptune alive. Noir's idea was a little more sensible, if a little weaker in its effects - she just had a thousand and one alliances with the lesser deities who had no territory of their own but who tended to carry a little of the essence of every world they ventured into when they left. Blanc was unsure what Vert was up to, she was still a little new to the Goddess business and it was hard to be in danger of gradually degrading an identity that wasn't even established yet.

As for Blanc... well, she used a far greater, more primal power, something that her oldest sisters had been granted by one of the more powerful lesser deities. It had come from space, a long way out, and it devoured the life energy of worlds, but it also had the power to seal time, to make fate absolutely certain.

Because once it had inserted itself into a world's timeline, that future would refuse to change again.

As the Goddess chanted to the tiny model of the Mammon Machine, it glowed with Lavos' raw, wild magic. Blanc licked her lips, a shudder arching down her spine as she tasted the true essence of a conqueror of time and space.