After Alex decided to flee from the peasant Reltyian town nestled into the ravine, he ended up atop the cliff, standing tall after having finished a jump. Looking to the distance away from Retly, he sighed. Nevertheless, he started walking. No matter how long the distance or how much time had passed, it didn't matter. Whether those Agents knew it or not, dedicated to the promise he swore to his heart so long ago, Alex would close that distance. No matter the cost--whether a thousand years would pass, he would always reach them, without fail.
No matter how long he took to arrive there, they would always end up in his arms again. They wouldn't be abandoned by their family the way he was abandoned by his. However, someone like him, with all the Requiem potential in the world, some even remaining untapped, would eventually be faced. An immovable object caused him to halt a continuous sprint, and with brown strands swaying in sync with the winds of the chilly desert nearing nighttime, Alex feigned excitement.
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
Told infinitely throughout the Requiems' tales, there always remained one constant.
'What a ridiculous comedy.'
Their tales will be faced with the plague of unavoidable 'disaster.' Whether it be in the form of the Jester's unsurpassable undying might, Naraku's bottomless hatred spewing into everything and anything, or the one standing before him in the present. The unwavering, immovable ambition of the Foretold Founder, Callum Rivers, proudly before the Judge's very eyes.
"Nice to see you again, Alexander," Callum greeted him with some form of formality.
"You do realize I'm older than you, right?" Alex asked, stepping closer, revealing the pressure of his spiritual aura; the ground rumbling as the shroud of darkness dropped over his being.
Callum upturned an eyebrow. Thus raising his hands, revealing empty palms.
"I do. And as you can see, I'm unarmed. We have no reason to quarrel!" Yelled the surrendering Founder.
"Oh, I think we do! Surely, you must've heard of it at the very least! The oracle. Not only have the peasant Retlyians down there felt it, but the entire world, too! To think he'd sacrifice himself like that, and yet again, this pitiful history will repeat. A world with Requiems, descendants or purebred, is always destined to fall. That seems to be the unavoidable truth, is it not?" Alex asked, some feet away from Rivers' loudness.
"I couldn't say. You, Hana, Augustus, Azazel-- you were able to experience the Old World. Was it like this, too?"
Maybe he was biased. Maybe he was blessed. It didn't matter which one was true or which one was false. In the end, that time, so long ago, when he was ignorant beside Rose or burdened with everyone else, was it so traumatizing?
"Back then, it was fun. We'd done terrible things for the sake of freedom, but we were together. Whether everyone was righteous or not, I didn't care. I just enjoyed... the time I had with the people I loved," Admitted Alex, nostalgically grinning.
"You and I are the same, then, are we not?" Cal asked, raising his hand.
"What makes you think that?" Alex unraveled his whip from his belt.
"Of course not. I know you hate me, but you're the same as me. You abetted the New Allfather in committing the sins he did for the sake of the protection of his family. Whether or not what he did was wrong or right doesn't matter because you're on his side and he won't hurt. That's all you care about: yourself," Cal replied.
"I don't define myself on whatever the man I grace with the title of 'father' did. I am myself. Plus, the sins he's committed in the past have been washed away with the regeneration of a better World. I alone am burdened with the responsibility to lead the next generation of saviors toward the path that sings the song of endless freedom! The road ahead of a Requiem's path may be a mountain of unassociated corpses but what remains at the top? The freedom to do what you like without constraints! To move without orders! To peacefully live... for the sake of yourself without having to worry about the future of your family being threatened by whoever dares to challenge unparalleled Requiem might! That is the weight I was destined to carry when I incarnated into this New World. That is the vow I bound myself unto! There will come a time when I will undoubtedly 'arrive' at a destination!"
Alex snapped his whip, unleashing a thunderous roar throughout the clouds.
"No matter who stands in my way, whether it be that irritable Jester or that usurped might, it doesn't matter! I'll obliterate it... in order to reach that 'destination!'"
"I said I don't want to fight!" Callum yelled, stepping back.
"Then move! Or die by my hand..."
Alex cried, entangling his fist in metallic threads discharging white lightning, his knuckles engraved into a rocky formation. Callum had switched places with a nearby formation-- he hadn't simply vanished. Turning his head after this observation, the Judge clicked his tongue, noticing the Founder standing some feet away in what was formerly behind him.
"So, you moved, huh?"
"I said I didn't wanna fight, didn't I?" Callum asked.
"Tch. Well, have it your way! I have somewhere to be anyway!" Said Alex, turning around, waving to the Founder as he gradually distanced himself.
'You and I are the same then, are we not?'
Why did those words repeat so rapidly throughout his head? It was like some inescapable sin plagued his being, to be compared to a demon like the Founder. Did it scratch at his skin so much it seemed to infect his mind? He gritted his teeth and clenched his fist. Was that the whole point of why he stood before him just some minutes ago? Just to say that one intrusive sentence that endlessly echoed through the bottomless corridors of his intricate mind?
'Because he's right. That's why. I'm... not a good person.'
To think the worst person imaginable would point out something so obvious. One part of him wanted to strangle his neck right then and there, snap his neck, set his ablaze, so much horror he wanted Callum Rivers to endure all for that single statement. Alexander Amara, the student of the Requiem Reaper and second son of the New Allfather. To have such credentials, legends like those at his side, he couldn't have been wrong, right?
Then, it hit him. Those childish faces belonging to those he saved. Ace's spiky red hair, Katie's deep blue eyes, June's childish ignorance, Kima's outstanding maturity. Whoever he made the promise to—did it matter? August, Azazel, Whitney, the Allfather, none of them mattered, because he didn't save them for any other reason! A promise, a vow, a contract, a covenant. Unto oneself from oneself. He wasn't chained to anyone's destiny.
'The second I extended my hand to those four; that's what I decided, wasn't it? To be the best me I could be. If not for myself, then for my mother, my father. Just that little thing, those words of gratitude that helped me live, would ensure that sacrifice was worthwhile. Because... if it wasn't then...'
He looked to the sky, tears in his eyes, upper lip trembling.
"Why did you two have to leave me, too?"
Suddenly, Alex collapsed to his knees. Callum raised his head. Was he mishearing things or did the Judge just whisper something? And not only that but... sobbing. Alexander Amara was sobbing in the middle of a desert under the night sky's spiraling cloak of darkness.
"A-are you okay?" The Founder dared to step closer while speaking.
Alex cleared his throat, coughing momentarily into his fist, then scratching his nape. He stood up again, leaving Callum with an upturned eyebrow, not to mention his head tilting.
"Fine. The next time I see you, I'll be prying the Artifact away from your cold, dead hands... bastard."
And so, the Judge vanished yet again, but to the Founder's enhanced eyes, he could spot that lightning trail as it curved across the exorbitant sands and rocky mountains that littered this dry plain. Amara was gone, and in an instant, he was alone amidst the desert. Retly's confining sphere some miles away, he turned around and stared at the sky. Such indistinct yet complicated shapes the distant stars assumed in the forms of constellations. Somehow, it reminded him of the thread of the future. How the path he was on now, in the present time he lived within, ended up at such a disastrous outcome the future was predestined to become.
He'd seen it all from that day, and through no will but his own, he was now an inactive bystander, seated on the sidelines as he marvelously gazed upon the coming disaster the future would bring.
To Be Continued.
Blind Judgment Arc - Fin.