To announce his arrival, the Founder landed before a crowd of pointing fingers aiming their gaze upon his descending body. He was akin to an Angel. Could he have been the ancient one from the oracle—that lifelike dream that reminded them all of a fantastical impossibility? Brown locks with snowy tips, darkened azure eyes, to think someone so legendary would grace the presence of merry peasants as they.
The mere second his feet touched the ground, the followers instantly kneeled to their leader foretold by that dreamy prophecy that haunted their enlightened memories. Darting his eyes across the plentiful buildings embedded into a deserted plain, Cal's fingers scratched his stubbled chin.
'What exactly is this place?' He thought to himself, then remembered that impenetrable sphere surrounding Retly's mechanical capital up above, 'Could this be where..?'
"Sir Rivera… we've been waiting for you! To see your beauty laid before us, swaying in the very wind and on the ground us peasants walk on—you must be our secret savior!" One of the townsfolk loudly said, ordering Cal's attention onto her face.
"Rivera..? My name is River…"
Rivera. How long had it been since someone could endure a long life with that cursed family name? He covered a grin with his hand, walking past the townsfolk, leaning against a bumpy wall.
"Uh, sir?" Asked the townswoman who spoke earlier.
"Y-yes. Uh, is something wrong?" Cal asked after turning his head toward them, sniffling.
The townsfolk turned their heads curiously as they focused on his scarred features.
"Why're you crying?"
His hand touched his cheek with an open mouth then, he sniffled a second time. Wiping away the tears with his sleeve, he looked to the ground and threw his hair back. He was still silent. Was he as confused as they were? The townswoman inched closer, her hand raised. But his palm prevented her from touching him, not to mention his withdrawing from where he formerly stood. Just one step rearwards, and she was left speechless.
"I… I don't know. I… I suddenly feel so woozy."
He started to wobble, eyes rolling back. But before he could thud to the ground, he weightlessly slid into the arms of the worried townswoman. Grunting from his overwhelming weight, she stabilized herself, throwing him up while his arm slithered around her nape.
She indistinctly called for aid from her fellow neighbors, echoes of her feminine voice distancing once his eyes reopened. Hazy vision encircled his single pupil before his consciousness gradually started to fade, his conscience reverted to a slumber.
Suddenly, he jerked awake. Riddled in a cold uncomfortable sweat, slowing his heavy breathing with a hand on his exposed chest—all actions enhanced by the frightened scream he unknowingly unleashed the second he'd awaken. The same townswoman from earlier barged through the door, clad in a nightgown. Holding a candle atop a metallic plate, sweat running down her face, her mouth opened,
"W-what happened?! Are you... are you okay?"
Her worried loudness shifted to a softened vocalization.
"Yeah. I am, it's just- a dream I had. It didn't feel like a dream, though. So vivid and real, I can remember it so accurately," Cal described, furrowing his eyebrows.
"A-ah, I see. I take it you're feeling better?" She asked.
"Yeah. Thanks for helpin' me back there. But I have something to tell you. I'm-"
"Not a Rivera," She finished for the retired Founder, settling the plate onto a wooden dresser within his room, "I realized it a second after meeting you. The Emperor had blue eyes and brown hair, not to mention a beard. You... well, you already know."
"Yeah. Sorry to burst your bubble though," Cal said.
"No need to apologize, sir! While it is obvious that you're not the Emperor, you possess the same energy as him. With the resurgence of Artifacts being basic knowledge at this point for every citizen on Earth, I assume you have the infamous one, then?" Asked the townswoman.
"Infamous one? You mean the Requiem Artifact?" The Founder asked, releasing his hand from his head.
"Yeah, multiple nations' governments were interested in utilizing its strength to monopolize more territory and power. Where've you been for the last 12 years?" She asked, sitting at the end of the bed.
He grumbled, shaking his head a second time. Without a hand covering his eyes, she could finally make out that look in his red eye. His hand wiped it away from the corner before it could drop, but she couldn't mistake that unforgettable shine from a tear refracting off a window's glass.
"Away, I guess." That was all he said, but those simple words meant more to anyone across the sea than anything else could.
"You're the Foretold Founder, of Riverton Island! Callum Rivers, right? The world hates you—they say you're the perpetrator of everything that's occurred. But, that's not true, right? One of Inheritance like you, granted such an honor as the Requiem Artifact, could never be a bad person, right?!"
He couldn't tell whether she was asking him to ensure his innocence or reassuring herself that she wasn't aiding and abetting a murderer. After all, his identity was that of the initial destroyer, ridding the world of its grounded reasoning. His face withheld obvious anger, instead, his eyes fell dead, uncaring. Her eyes widened, accompanied by a gasp. Maybe subconsciously, she slid back on the bed, garnering his eye noticing her distancing leg.
Feet attaching to the floorboards, a cold sink into his deformed soles, Callum searched for his jacket.
"I assume it's cold outside," Cal said, grasping the ends of the darkened attire spread over a chair in front of a desk.
"H-huh? What makes you say that..?" Curiously asked the townswoman, sweat dripping down her face.
"I'll be on my way now. After all, I know when I'm not welcome," Callum threw the jacket over his shoulders, "Thank you for your kindness, but I have something I have to do."
He walked past her, buttoning up his shirt, looking to the messy collar beside his neck, affixing it properly. Standing before the entrance, he slid his feet into his footwear and readied to take the first step. The future's path was unknown, for all he knew, the second he'd step outside, he'd be torn to shreds by whatever artillery awaited beyond.
However, before he could move, something- or rather, someone stopped him. Not a hand grasping his shoulder or a punch attacking his back, but rather, a voice. And more specifically, a question.
"Why?! YOU'RE THE ONE WHO DID IT, RIGHT?! Who brought about the existence of Hybrids and Evolutionaries! Why would you do something so disastrous? Now there are widespread inequality thanks to the division of the races because of what you did! How could you… why WOULD YOU EVER DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT?! FOR WHAT REASON… for what PURPOSE?"
The moment he was born into this world, something chose him. Whether it was looming over the incarnation of his soul ever since he was an infant or it originated at that moment, when unequivocal hatred emerged in the heart, it didn't matter. Ever since he was born, this world was his oyster, he was free to do as he liked. And because of one little incident, a single minuscule choice, his freedom was taken away.
A vow with an iron fist, a demand to the world; a scream, a roar, no matter what! Whether Kelly was blind to it or Rizia stared ahead at the embodiment of disaster, it lurked within from the beginning. Callum Rivers, the Foretold Founder of Riverton, the destroyer of the world.
"Why?" Whether it was right or wrong, whether he felt guilty or thought freely, there was no denying his desire… "Because I was born into this world."
"Because you were… born into this world?" Asked the townswoman.
"Yes. Ever since that day, I've known everything that will occur from someone kicking a pebble on the way to work to a butterfly's wings moving, in tandem with the wind. I was sent these memories to ensure the future went the way it did, because of… the demon inside me. But, it was more than that, I know it was. I don't know why, but, from the second I was born, I've just been me. I can't say that demon was manipulating me. Every man, woman, child, dog, cat, I don't care. Everyone who's died because of me died because I wanted it to be that way. I don't know why but… I wanted it. More than anything."
He looked to his palm, his red eye glistened at the pupil, remembering how simple it was. Overthrowing the world's framework, utilizing others' trauma to obliterate reason, and eventually, the destruction. The way that hulking monster rampaged through the city with the sight of his body larger than anything human might could muster. Innate nature, nurtured constructions, it didn't matter—those yellow eyes that projected insanity obliterated everything that day on a single command, a sole will.
"That is why I formed the Remnant World, why I shattered the world and monopolized the Island. Not because of any future memories I was graced with, no. I wanted to… be myself. But, I was blind. I thought that, after everything, I could live my normal life with the family I made. Rizia, Kelly, Ryosuke, Azazel, Heidi. But I'm the only one left. They all died—because of me. I've done horrible things but I know that they are my own. I don't want to say it was anyone's else fault because I know it was mine. In a selfish attempt to destroy those who wronged me, I dragged innocents into a disaster and changed the world beyond repair. I can never change what I've done, and I don't know if I can forgive myself for everything that's happened… but… I want to atone. Whether or not anyone accepts that of me, I don't care. This is the path I've chosen, and if you don't wish to aid me on it, then there's nothing more I can do but keep moving forward with hope for a bright future at the end of my life. Goodbye-"
There was nothing to prevent him from fleeing, but the more steps he took, the more the grip tightened against his arm. One that wasn't there seconds before— belonging to a human's hand withholding the Founder from retreating any further. Turning his head, an imaginary question mark appeared overhead…
"Get off me. What's wrong with you, woman?" Confusedly asked Callum with an irritated facial expression.
"Along with the oracle of the Requiem saviors, Incarnated and otherwise, we received some indistinct memories to remind us New World inhabitants of their influences. Among those were the Emperor's actions and sacrifices for the sake of humanity. However, that deduction isn't true. He did not do the wrong things he did because they were for the sake of anyone else, they were because he wanted to do it. He didn't care about anyone else other than the family he built. That is your desire… in other words, the desire of the Allfather's. Everything you've done is a reflection of his choices. You are his chosen successor, and we are his Subjects. Anything you demand of us, Inherited One, is what we will do, without question!"
She fell to her knees, pleading with tears down her cheeks as she gripped his sleeve with what futile strength she had. Instinctively pulling his arm away from her grasp, he looked down at her pathetic stance, allowing some strands to prohibit his vision as he glared below at her while covered by hair. To think such deplorable actions as his would be compared to the rebuilder of the world, the infamous, invisible New Allfather. In what world could these opposites have in common? That was the question he asked himself.
"Who exactly are you people? And why do you praise the New Allfather and the other Requiem saviors so much?" The Founder asked.
She choked through tears and said, "Be-be... because," She started to stand, wiping away the tears from her eyes, sniffling as she reorganized herself into an airtight stance, "Because we are loyal Subjects. Anti-Retlyian volunteers who wish to threaten the existence of the Jester's city and eventually overthrow his rule! With your help, Founder Rivers, we can ensure that dream comes to fruition. Please, Founder, give us hope."
'Hope? How could someone like me give you all the youthful light that you strive for? The thing you youth strive for is my power—his power. However, I care not for this little spot in the middle of nowhere. Truth be told, this only delays my mission.'
He tilted his head, peeking through the curtains beside the entrance, and peering at the plentiful buildings strewn about. A civilization littered with as many people as this can't survive without food or water. That was not simply a fact, but a truth Callum knew from the bottom of his heart. While true, a pit stop at this town nestled in a ravine would only delay him from the intricacies of his end goal, what lay here remained valuable. The people, the food, the resources.
'But, maybe... they can be valuable to me, after all.'
Without stopping ever once, he kept marching forward.
And so, extending his hand, her eyes widening, that kind smile was layered upon the chimera of truth. Within, that sinister grin couldn't expand... it'd already hit its limit on how disturbing the smirk could reach.
"I will be your hope. It's like you said, after all. One of Inheritance like me can't ever be a bad person... without a doubt—I am your savior!"
To Be Continued.