The Paradox of Fate and Free Will

Haru was led through a long corridor, his arms gripped firmly by the guards. Beneath his feet, metal panels pulsed with faint streams of energy, illuminating the floor with an eerie glow. Every step he took felt as though thousands of unseen eyes were watching him. The air was heavy, almost suffocating. At the corridor’s end, a massive door stood waiting. With the grinding of mechanical gears, it slowly parted, revealing a chamber far grander and more dazzling than he had anticipated.

The ceiling stretched infinitely upward, its dim white lights flickering with a soft radiance. Yet, the most striking feature of the room was the massive screens lining its walls. Billions of data streams flowed across them, an endless cascade of numbers, names, and images. Some screens displayed scenes from people’s everyday lives, while others ran intricate algorithms in chaotic patterns. What were these records?

At the center of the room, a lone figure sat with his back turned, stationed before an enormous console, as if presiding over the flow of information like a judge overseeing fate.

The guards escorted Haru to the middle of the room. He swallowed hard, unsettled by the weight of the unknown pressing down on him. Then, the seated man slowly turned.

Long, silvery-white hair cascaded over his shoulders, framing sharp, refined features. His eyes held the depth of someone who had seen and judged every truth. Ordo.

A faint, unreadable smile crossed Ordo’s lips. "Welcome back, Captain Haruma Kisaragi."

Haru’s breath caught in his throat. What?

The name echoed in his ears, feeling both familiar and alien at once. Kisaragi? But what disturbed him even more was Ordo’s choice of words, "Welcome back."

Ordo watched him in silence, as if gauging the storm of confusion raging in his mind. Then, with an almost amused expression, he continued, "Even for me, seeing you here again is quite a surprise."

Haru, unsure of what to do, locked eyes with Ordo. Who was this man? Why was he speaking to him like this? And more importantly, why was he here?

Ordo rose from his chair, his long robes whispering against the floor. With a simple gesture, he pointed to the screens. "Do you understand what you’re looking at, Haruma?"

Haru’s gaze drifted to the cascading streams of data. Then, in the endless flood of information, something caught his eye, his own name. Next to it, a sequence of numbers and incomprehensible symbols. His record.

"What... What does this mean?" he asked, his voice unsteady.

Ordo stepped closer, resting a hand lightly on Haru’s shoulder. "We will explain everything. But first, I need to ask you, do you truly know why you are here?"

A shiver ran through Haru’s spine at the weight of the question. He had no answer, and the uncertainty clawed at his very being. Haruma Kisaragi. The name echoed at the edges of his mind, lingering but refusing to become real. I am Haru Akihara. He wanted to believe that. But Ordo’s gaze held no trace of deception.

"You must be mistaken. I’ve never heard that name before," Haru said, his voice firm, yet his eyes betrayed his doubt as they flickered to the glowing screen displaying his name.

Ordo narrowed his eyes and nodded slightly. "It’s too late to run, Haruma. It’s time you face what you’ve seen and felt."

His fingers slid across the console’s interface, and suddenly, the enormous screens flickered, rippling like the surface of a vast data ocean. Then, an image materialized.

Haru’s heartbeat quickened as he studied the display. A boy… with long, unruly black hair, a face eerily similar to his own. But that was impossible. He looked to be around twenty-two or twenty-three, an unmistakable resemblance to Haru.

But he wasn’t alone. Next to him stood another figure, identical yet different.

Same features. Same eyes. But a sharper, older gaze. And beside them, standing in a crisp uniform, was Hikari.

Haru’s breath hitched. "This… How can this be?"

"That’s not me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "It can’t be."

"Unfortunately, the system rarely makes mistakes, Haruma," Ordo’s voice echoed throughout the chamber. "And according to Orbis’s records, you were erased. And yet… here you are."

A deep tremor ran through Haru’s mind, shaking the very foundation of his reality. Erased? Then how was he still here? Was this a mistake, an anomaly Orbis hadn’t accounted for?

Ordo tilted his head slightly, a knowing smile gracing his lips. "Ahh, containing both you and Hikari was always a troublesome endeavor. Even back then, I should have known you’d be nothing but trouble."

Haru’s fists clenched as his brows furrowed. His world was unraveling, and he needed answers—now.

"Hikari!?" A vague unease stirred within him. "What are you talking about?"

Ordo stepped forward, the long hem of his robe brushing against the floor as his footsteps echoed through the chamber, amplifying the uncertainty swirling in Haru’s mind. "Are you ready to understand the power of Orbis? To grasp the truth of fate, Haruma?"

Then, with a knowing smile, he added, "Because if we don’t come to an agreement now, I get the feeling you’ll just keep returning here, manipulating the system time and time again."

Haru’s brows furrowed, his breath unsteady, his chest tightening. His thoughts spun in a vortex of confusion, feeding the anger boiling inside him. "What is this man telling me?" His gaze locked onto Ordo, his mind grasping at fragments of a past he didn’t remember. He knew nothing about his own history or at least, nothing he could recall. Yet, this man, Ordo, spoke as if he knew everything.

His hands clenched into fists, his voice hardening. "What truth of fate am I supposed to understand? What are you trying to tell me?" His voice rang out, reverberating through the vast chamber. "Even looking at these screens, I can see how you manipulate people, how you direct their destinies. If everything is predetermined, if it all follows your will, then where is freedom? Do you see people as mere puppets?"

Ordo regarded him with a calm, almost amused expression. How many had stood before him, caught in this same paradox of fate and free will? How many had burned with the same righteous fury? Yet, his voice remained patient, resonant as the wind whispering through the mountains.

"Haruma, you misunderstand free will." There was no condescension in his voice, no attempt to force conviction upon him. "Fate is not a series of commands dictating the outcome of events. It is the fundamental law of existence, just as water boils at 100 degrees and freezes at zero. But whether you choose to heat a glass of water or not, that is entirely up to you. The choice is yours, but the reaction remains constant."

Haru took a step forward, the fire in his eyes fueled by a fear of the unknown. "Nonsense!" he snapped, his voice quivering with disbelief. "If the outcomes never change, then what purpose do our choices serve? If free will is just an illusion, then everything is a lie!"

Ordo’s gaze remained steady as he spoke. "It’s like a game of chess, Haruma. The movement of the pieces is governed by rules, but the choices you make, those are entirely your own. You try to checkmate your opponent, but within the limits of the game. If you break the rules, then there is no game at all. Orbis is the same. Every choice you make is real, but without the laws that govern them, existence itself would crumble."

Haru’s expression darkened in contemplation. Then, his breath hitched as realization dawned upon him. "So… you’re saying that people can never change their fate? That this is nothing more than a prison?"

Ordo sighed softly. "No, Haruma. The real prison is being trapped in the obsession to rewrite the consequences of your choices."

A shadow passed over Haru’s face. "But what if we refused to choose? What if we simply accepted that everything was written from the start and surrendered to it? Would we truly be making any choices at all?"

Ordo paused, studying the way Haru’s stance wavered with uncertainty. Then, in a low, measured tone, he spoke. "Those who surrender do not choose, Haruma. But those who question, who seek to understand and act, they are the ones who truly exist."

A name surfaced in Haru’s mind, Dolores. The elderly couple he had met before… Was this what they had been trying to tell him?

For a brief moment, silence settled between them.