Dave adjusted his shades, even though the sun wasn’t the problem—too many timelines stacking up, too many variables shifting just out of reach. He exhaled, hands in his pockets, listening to the low hum of the city, the way sound bent and stretched when time itself wavered. The weight of his god-tier status settled over him like an old jacket, something familiar but never quite comfortable. He could feel the echoes of choices he hadn’t made yet pressing at the edges of his mind, futures slipping between his fingers before he could catch them. Still, he smirked, tilting his head like none of it mattered. "Cool," he muttered to no one in particular, because sometimes you just had to say it out loud and hope the universe bought it.