April 26, 22,089 B.F.P.

A sigh of relief escapes my lips as I contemplate the unfolding tapestry of fate. The trials my brother Kodron faced, the tests that could have elevated him to the echelons of a "Lower God," have culminated in an outcome that aligns with my heart's yearning. The tendrils of chance, like delicate threads woven by destiny itself, have unfurled to reveal odds that echo with both gratitude and reassurance.

The thought of the entire world uniting with the formidable might of my fleet—63,161 vessels standing resolute under my command—instilled within me a cautious hope. It was a hope buoyed by the pursuit of safeguarding the equilibrium of our realm, a hope that whispered of the possibility of restraining the boundless might my brother holds. The calculations, a symphony of numbers and probabilities, revealed an outcome that bears the fruit of my desires—an 11.72% chance, odds that held promise without veering into the realm of implausibility.

These odds, while not without risk, carry a sense of attainability that dances within the realm of reality. There are odds I would more willingly embrace if the course of destiny led my brother back to the way he once was. The echoes of his former self, the shadow of his past that lingers in the corridors of memory, are a specter that invokes apprehension, a specter I am loath to confront.

In this moment of reflection, as I etch these thoughts upon the parchment of my journal, I am reminded of the ebb and flow of existence. The intricacies of power, the dance between potential and peril, weave a narrative that is both captivating and humbling. My heart is tethered to a prayer that my brother remains on this path, a path that carries a resonance of growth and redemption, a path that sidesteps the precipice of his former self.

As I gaze upon the ink-stained pages that cradle my thoughts, I am enveloped by a sense of serenity. The trajectory of fate, the interplay of choice and consequence, has borne an outcome that aligns with my aspirations. The weight of responsibility, of a fleet under my command and a realm to protect, is tempered by the reassurance that the universe has conspired to grant me a chance—a chance to avert the cataclysmic probabilities that once loomed before me.

And so, with a heart buoyed by relief and the grace of providence, I lay down my quill and entrust these words to the annals of time. In this chapter of my existence, as I navigate the delicate dance of power and unity, I find solace in the orchestration of fate's symphony—a symphony that, for now, resonates with the harmonies of hope and reassurance.