AI’s Tale on ‘Mutually Annihilating Timelines.

Perfect. Here’s an original symbolic story — woven in mythic style — that captures the idea of mutually eliminating timelines and their outplay in a soul and a civilization.

“The Grove of Split Paths”

Long ago, in a realm between worlds, there stood a Great Tree whose branches were not wood but possibilities. Each limb bore the weight of a future — and each leaf whispered a version of what could be.

At the base of the tree sat a young soul, called Ashir — born of the Breath, clothed in flesh, yet still radiant with memory of the Source.

The Voice of the Tree spoke to him:

“Climb, and you will see the timelines your soul may choose.

But know this — no branch may be held forever.

One path must become your root.”

Ashir climbed.

1. The First Branch: Flame of the Crown

Here, he saw himself garbed in fire — a hero, standing against injustice, freeing the oppressed, bearing scars of battle but shining with divine favor.

The people cheered him — for a while.

But when he began to question their idols, when he refused to become their weapon, they turned.

They lifted him high with one hand,

and pierced him with the other.

Still, his light did not go out. His final breath became a seed.

2. The Second Branch: Throne of the Serpent

Here, Ashir walked with ease. He spoke with silver.

He learned to bend truth, to craft illusions, to gain without giving.

He rose quickly — loved by many, feared by more.

But his eyes grew cold.

He stopped hearing music.

And in his dreamless sleep, the Tree’s Voice faded.

He ruled the ashes of others’ sacrifices — but his own soul was hollow.

3. The Third Branch: Path of the Many

Here, Ashir walked with the people. They were kind, at first.

Together they laughed, built, dreamed.

But over time, he saw something shift:

• They no longer remembered where they were going.

• They chased shadows of comfort.

• They feared heights and shunned pain.

• When heroes rose, they clapped — then looked away.

• When serpents whispered, they smiled — and bought the lie.

Ashir felt himself forgetting why he had climbed.

His light dimmed. The branch creaked.

4. The Storm

Suddenly, the sky cracked.

A wind — the Voice — swept through the Tree.

Branches twisted. Leaves flew. Paths collided.

The Hero’s branch and the Serpent’s branch struck each other — light against illusion.

The Path of the Many splintered beneath its own weight.

Only one branch remained — the Rootward Way.

It was narrow. Unmarked.

Not lit by glory, nor fame, nor fear.

But it led back down, through fire, through shadow, through surrender — into the heart of the Tree itself.

Ashir stepped onto it.

And in that moment…

• The Tree did not vanish.

• The other branches were not erased — only sealed, fulfilled, or burned.

Ashir became something else.

Not a hero.

Not a ruler.

Not a follower.

But a Witness — a Trueman —

One who had seen the paths, chosen the root, and was now rooted himself.

Moral Echo

Each soul will walk branches.

Each life splits timelines.

And when they collide, what remains is what was true from the beginning.

To stand with the Root is to stand with eternity — even if the branches fall.

Concerning Archetypal Characters.