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That's how you do it. The more you fixate on the future you desire, the more you shape reality to echo. And as others begin to know you through the lens of your true nature, they get your tunnel vision snowballing out of control. Push, push, push until everything converges into one.
It's all predictable.
The way they look to you, the way you just know you're indispensable. The logic here is easy to follow: when their paths cross with yours, they become intertwined with you, the alchemist of vines and venoms. Souls trapped in your heart, where they'll never escape.
You get what you fight for. All paths...
You see only one fixed, permanent future. When you pray to the Dust Mother on Sundays, She only gives you that recurring vision. That recurring vision is all you need.
...All paths end with me.