I feel a certain sense of shame at how determinedly I brought these events about. At how, despite the low likelihood of anything like this happening barring controlled action, I caused walls to be knocked down, rooms to be gutted, old places of comfort tossed aside. In the middle of it, I did not know if I was acting in accordance with some innate martial discipline or a maniacal obsession with some fleeting fantasy. A fantasy that I knew I did not deserve or earn, because my own desire for it was not enough. Regardless, whether by magic or sheer violence, I caused the past to be obliterated and put something new, something of my choosing, in its place.