Upon a crimson sky, a man stands, alone holding a half-broken sword. Flesh charred, and clothes that were falling apart. On his off-hand was a pistol with its barrel falling off.
Above the crimson sky was a battle of the ages. Cleaved skies, broken cities, and sundered concrete mountains were all the Man could see. So many dead while he still lives.
A Valkyrie and a Demon fought at the end of the world.
The battle caused the sky to rupture. This hopeless sky showered the blood of those who died on the Man who still stands while everyone was dead.
He was not a strong warrior, and he was not even a particularly glorious soldier. But even so, he stood as the survivor of those who could reach the crimson skies where they fought. All the good men have died, and he was alone, drinking the ambrosia that came from the blood they shed.
"There is no need to fight, right?" he said to himself. "I have done my best, and I reached this far. I can rest now, right?"
He dropped his sword and pistol. The receptacle of their powers pouring down his throat. Then time slowed almost to a still as he watched the last of the strongest die from their wounds.
He saw the world cracked. The magma beneath crust slowly burned him alive. He felt the liquid magma enter his throat and burn his esophagus. He felt his entire body and smelled his burnt flesh as time slowed. A minute of death turned into an hour of stillness, where he succumbed to the pain.
He saw the world turned into a sea of fire. But among that sadness, there was a warm light that seems to grab his soul. Time stopped for him, and a loud tick of a clock woke him up from his stupor.
On a digital arc, he saw the metal gates open. Inside of the metal gates is an arena that he was familiar with, a blue butterfly got thrown inside an exhaust fan. It's shredded wings eventually flying into his palm.
"On the right corner, a combatant from Gharasu! Hear comes Recker!"
He heard no cheers. He turned his eyes to the other side of the arena where his opponent, wearing a bare exoskeleton suit, stood with his mighty ax.
The place where he would be embarrassed upon thousands of spectators live. It was nothing new to this arena to have some rookie like him embarrassed. It was a ritual of this place.
"And the Executioner!"
The place became rowdy as he swings his ax. He drew his cutter sword and eyed the executioner. A cutter sword was one of the most common swords found in the era. Lightweight and durable, it meant to cut and did the job well.
Though he could hear the people laugh for the sword he carried. On his off-hand was his peacekeeper pistol. He had not held this pistol or even fired it, but in this dream, there was a strange feeling that he had retained his strength when the world ended. He looked at the tatau inked on his left hand and saw that it was red, like the crimson sky he saw, and like the ambrosia spilled on him.
No one seems to see the tatau that melted in his pores. His story, his hardships, and those that he fought lost in time. He was silent, and people thought of it as cowardice in his part.
Time slowed down, and the sounds of the arena slowly fade away until he heard nothing but the sound of his heart beating. As he moves, time moves, and upon reaching forty heartbeats, he uncoiled like a spring and drew his cutter.
He struck on the battery pack of his foe and felt like his body froze for five seconds. He thought that if he had kept up perceiving time slowly, then he would have frozen for fifteen seconds, disabling him to fight.
In this cruel world, that time could save his life. If time was a gift to him, then it was even more relentless knowing that those who are gifted by stigma could cleave the skies.
But Recker did not find joy in all of this. Why would someone like be given more time in hell? What did he do to deserve more hell, knowing that the Valkyrie and the Demon would eventually found themselves fighting in the sky?
The crowd gasped as the Exoskeleton holding his foe malfunctioned. Recker pointed his pistol at his enemy. The enemy surrendered, and the crowd roared at his victory.
He left the arena without a word or raising his hands. He went to the one in charge of the paycheck and took the credits with him. The one making the bets asked for him to stay and fight more, but he couldn't. Not when his heart felt like it cracked, the crack spreading whole.
His blank-eyed stared. His despair came crushing at this cruel world who would send someone like him back in time to see it repeat. Turning his eyes to the city of Aured, the bastion of humanity, and the last place where people could be free.
Jakob Recker went back in time, the time where the world hasn't ended yet. He didn't know why. Not that he'd asked why.
Knowledge of the future? Secrets of the past? He couldn't even recall most of it when he was too busy trying to live! Holding his head, he staggered to the nearby bar with hollow eyes that even the bartender who recognized him zipped his mouth. Drowning his sorrow, screaming internally at this world that seems to torture his senses. Jakob Recker understood that this was the world of the past. The world that had fallen in the hands of two powerful beings who couldn't prevent the end.
At the end of the world, a Valkyrie and a Demon would fight. It was an unavoidable confrontation that would mark the end of the world.
And Jakob Recker was only the poor fool who witnessed the end.