Darius felt like he was currently being swallowed by quicksand. Only that the mud forming this trap came from the concept 'Luck' and all it entailed.
His mind was getting suppressed by the notion of it, the events that led him here, and how it clashed against Darla's own.
Darius began to sweat profusely as his cognitive functions were busy with computations and scenarios where, no matter what, he would have been brought here under the influence of fate or Luck.
Darius truly did not have a problem with cosmic forces leading him. He wasn't so arrogant to believe that sentient beings possessed free will. It was pseudo-free will at best, and just like his current situation, if a deity wanted you to dance like a monkey, you would dance whether you liked it or not.
