The cruel summer sun bore down on Lake Fortune, Australia. It burned the skin of an old man in a tin boats bright red. He struggled with a fishing rod in his hands, swearing loudly at the fish he was trying to reel in.

"...with a belt ya ugly mongrel! You disappoint your grandma! You're ugly! I won't use salt when I cook you. You're a...."

This man was Wally Fitzgerald. The stream of awful and disgusting profanities that spewed forth from his mouth was so powerful that it must always be censored. In fact, it was so powerful that it passed the bounds of the natural and firmly entered that of the supernatural. And so, despite being on the cusp of a heart attack from exhaustion, regardless of the cigarette in his mouth, without concern for the meters of water between him and the fish, not minding that English was not the fish's first language, the supernatural curse words reached the fish's fish ears with perfect clarity and insulted it to its core. This made it very emotional. It was more likely to make mistakes and fought harder to escape, tiring itself out quicker.

One is enough for most. But supernatural curse words was only the first of Wally's supernatural powers. He was an exceptionally multi-talented man.

He also possessed supernatural chain smoking powers. If Wally desired a smoke, the universe would provide. Furthermore, he could juggle, sing, catch a fish, and sleep even with the same proficiency while smoking as while not. Smoking didn't inhibit any of his actions, only increase his risk of lung cancer. And so smoke he did.

He spat his old cigarette out into the water, aiming where he thought the fish might be. He has a fresh one in his mouth, lit before taking his next breath. He had done this every time his cigarette got short last 30 minutes or so for the duration of catching this fish. He had essentially denyed himself a single breath of fresh air the entire time.

Wally looked bad. It wasn't just that he was out of breath, badly sunburned, and sweating buckets. Wally was old, about 65 he guessed, he stopped keeping track a while back. A strict diet of beer and greasy pub food had left him with a gut that stuck out from his dirty clothes. His face was covered in moles and peeling skin from years of fishing outside without a hat or sunscreen. He was moment's away from a heart attack.

He should have stopped struggling and let the fish go. His stubbornness wasn't supernatural, but it was damn close. He refused to give up when this fish was on his line, for this was no ordinary fish. It was the golden barramundi. Wally's obsession; his white whale (not a whale, nor white). An mysterious fish he had been trying to catch almost all of his life.

He first spotted it in the lake when he was 8 years old. He was on a fishing trip with his dad. His dad had let him have a sip of his beer and a then light headed he was trying out some fancy lure wriggling techniques he had suddenly thought of. a Golden fish surfaced , holding his lure in its mouth. It winked at him and then yanked him right into the water. His dad laughed and laughed, apparently not seeing the Golden fish. Wally was was so intrigued and decided then and there that he was going to catch that fish. He had since dedicated more than 50 years of his life to catching it.

The problem wasn't that he couldn't find the fish again. In fact, the opposite was true. The only easy thing about this fish was getting it on the line in the first place. It would eat anything Wally put on the hook. From traditional baits such as worms and shrimps, to more exotic ones like beef or ham. Wally even got it with a biscuit once. It wanted to be hooked to do battle is what Wally believed.

The problem was that is was an absolute monster. It seemed to be as strong as a whale and as fast as a sailfish. It employed clever tactics to throw Wally off balance or break his rod and free itself. It mocked him with winks and splashes. Wally had simply never successfully reeled it in.

He would never stopped trying though. He had ample opportunity to do so and believed he was getting closer and closer with every attempt.

Truthfully, The only reason he has any chance at all was due to his third supernatural talent. A very conditionally specific power: When Wally was under the influence of alcohol, he gained supernatural proficiency with any tool that utilizes a hook. This included things like umbrellas with the right kind of handle, coat hangers, and of course, fishing rods. As long as he was trying to do something with a belly full of booze and a hooked object, he would do VERY well.

Actually, it really only took the smallest amount of liquor in his system to activate. Wally had no way of knowing this as he had been a chronic alcoholic for years and so his power was almost always active. He just thought he was good at fishing. Just that morning he had finished a six pack of beers and was had already opened his second pack. The cans were sitting under the seat of tin his boat. They were tantalizingly close but Wally couldn't reach them without putting himself at risk of being off balance. The sun and exhertion had him feeling awfully thirsty.

He pulled hard on the line to drag the the fish a little closer and give him an opportunity to reel the fish in a little closer. The fish did not budge. In retaliation it swam hard to the left then at lightning speed swapped to right in an attempt force Wally to lose balance. Wally did not budge. They were in a stalemate.

It continued like this for some time more until Wally could wait no more. It was time to take a risk. He was going to try and grab one of those beers.

He started by firing off a few of his nastiest insults.

"I'd rather eat pig's leftovers than you. Read your fan fiction on Royal Road, yikes. Are the rich looking gold scales compensating for your poor taste?!"

Then, as the fish spasmed in indignity he crouched down and inched himself back towards the drinks. The fish must have sensed something was up because it too decided to make a play. Wally's right hand came off the line to reach back for the drink and the fish charged the boat. It's plan was to release all the tension on the line then reapply it all at once. From the angle Wally was crouched and with only one hand on the line it was a move that was practically guaranteed to work. This proved to be a grave mistake as this was exactly what Wally had planned on happening. Years of battles with the golden barramundi had given Wally a precognition-like insight into when the fish was going to make a big move like this. Wally pulled back his left arm and spun his body around. The fish wasn't ready at all and got pulled right up next to the tin boat. Now Wally's arm was behind his body at an awkward angle and the fish would have no problem pulling away and escaping. But Wally wasn't done yet, his right hand wasn't reaching for the beers at all, instead went to his boot where his trusty boot knife was strapped.

Wally had a fourth and final supernatural ability. This one was more ridiculously conditional than the third: Any knife strapped to a boot that he was wearing for six minutes 13 seconds or over, could be thrown with supernatural precision by Wally. This only worked with things that were very obviously knives and very obviously boots. He couldn't strap a screwdriver to a pair of sneakers and expect similar results for example. This power only affected accuracy and therefore didn't allow Wally to throw harder or further than he physically able. Since Wally was weak and old, right up near the boat was about his limits.

He let go of the rod as he stood up straight and raised his hand to hurl the knife. The barramundi was right where he wanted it: up near the surface of the water only a few meters away.

"I've got you now ya turkey-necked bludger" he muttered as he brought his hand down flinging the knife.

Time seemed to slow. Both Wally and the fish knew that the knife wouldn't miss. It had a millisecond to make a move. left, right, forward, or back would end in the fish's death. It went the only direction it had a chance of going and surviving. Straight up.

The golden barramundi burst out of the water. The sun shone beautifully off of it's scales. It was a truly magnificent sight. Wally's knife flew down and stabbed into it's tail. It spun as it continued upwards. Wally tripped forward onto his hands and watched the amazing sight. Once the fish fell back into the water it would swim away despite it's wounds.

"No... no you bloody don't!" He shouted.

Old wally had one last trick up his sleeve. Still on his hands and knees he grabbed the boats anchor. He spun it once over his head then released it towards the fish. It flew true, naturally, as the anchor itself was shaped like two hooks back to back, making it a hooked tool. As the fish reached the apex of it's leap, the anchor flew up and spun around the fish, securing the rope tightly. Wally pulled on the rope as hard as he could. The fish flew straight down into Wally's waiting arms where he knelt and they both fell back into the boat.

Wally had caught the Golden fish! All the years trying and failing to catch this fish and now here it was, in his arms in his boat . Words cannot express the wave of emotions swept over him he had never felt so alive! The left side of his body went numb and he started having a heart attack.

He lay there dieing, looking into the fishes eyes. The fish looked into his. It was a serene and beautiful moment between two old rivals until the fish broke the silence.

"Dude! Wally! You have NO IDEA what an amazing thing you just pulled off! That was EPIC hahaha!"

Wally stared and struggled for breathe.

"Ahh where are my manners my man. Let's start with introductions. I already know your name but you probably dunno mine." The fish pretend to clear his throat and put on airs. "I am The Destiny Fish hehehe. Bro, You can just call me bro though bro. I mean it dude! After all we've been through together, we're officially brothers now. Wanna let you know, I'm not even mad about the knife in my tail or all those hurtful things you keep saying. I respect them. You're an absolute legend Wally."

"Destiny?" Wally managed to wheeze out weakly.

"Yeah bro that's me haha. You should see your face right now lol! Must be quite a surprised talking fish and all. Actually, dude, are you ok? Your not looking too hot, sorry if I'm being rude."

Wally gurgled

"Ahh... Oh, damn man. Hang on I'll go get my wand and see if I can do anything for you."

Destiny Fish flopped about in the boat a bit.

"Gosh, this is real awkward... but I kinda used up all my magic during our fun and can't fly out of your boat. I need my wand to get more. Could you give me a leg-up bro? Hehe I know I don't have any legs, but you know what I mean."

Wally's eyes were bloodshot and he was gasping for each breath. His face was turning redder than it already was. He could barely comprehend the situation. He knew he was dieing. He was probably having a near death hallucination in which the fish he caught was talking to him. It was freaking him out, quite frankly and he really wanted it to get the hell away from him. He was so weak he didn't even know if he could get it out of the boat, but he had decided and his famous stubbornness dictated that he wouldn't stop until he succeeded. He rolled over and pushed The fish. He struggled and groaned as the last of his life's energy was put into pushing. With some flopping from the fish to assist he got it up and over the edge, it splashed into the water. Wally didn't have the capacity to feel relief anymore. Instead he involuntarily fell forward face first into the water.

Destiny saw Wally fall into the water behind him as he hurried as fast as he could with his tail injury to get his wand. He has left it near his favorite chilling spot at the bottom of the lake. He left it there whenever Wally came around for a fishing battle so that he wouldn't have an unfair magical advantage. A magical fish with his wand was powerful on a cosmic scale.

His wand was a bent, knobbly, brown stick that could be mistaken for any old regular stick. He grabbed it into his fin and felt his magic return to him in fill. Rushing back to where Wally was he saw Wally now drowning on top of having a heart attack.

Magic flowed through his ancient fish body as he directed his powers to Wally. His magic was Destiny focussed but he had lots of general spells as well. To his dismay, it was too late. Wally was literally moments away from death. Destiny knew only one spell that might be able to save him. His most powerful spell. Destiny Fish didn't know if it would work but he had to try.

He cast 'destined to get again' onto Wally, a spell that linked destiny and his target together by destiny. Red strings of magic destiny shot out of his wand and wrapped around both of their souls. The fabric of the universe shifted and now no matter what happened they would meet again somewhere, somehow in the future. It was pre-destined and nothing could change that.

All of Destiny Fish's magic was poured into the spell. He would be able to cast other spells in a moment but he would not be unable to cast 'destined to meet again' again until the conditions were met.

He looked up and watched as Wally died. It seems the universe had a lot of work ahead of it.