Time has been moving, but I've always felt like I'm standing still, watching it pass me by. Five years? Doesn't feel like much, really.
Not when you've seen the universe break apart and rebuild itself a hundred times over. But I guess it's something.
A marker. A reminder that the world keeps turning, even when I've made it my personal mission to bend it to my will.
I look back at the road I've walked. If I'm honest with myself, I've never cared much for the journey. It's always been about the destination. And right now, it's clear that I've made it—somewhere no one else has. Somewhere few ever will.
They talk about 'the greater good,' but who defines it? Who decides what's right, what's worth saving?
The truth is, I've been doing this for me, for my vision. Everyone else can get in line, or get out of my way.
Standing under the waterfall now, I don't even flinch when the torrents crash down. The water's supposed to drown you, or at least make you uncomfortable. But for me? It's nothing.
Nature responds to my presence, reshaping itself around my will. No longer a passive force, it's my playground.
A tool. And yet, there's something oddly satisfying about that. I control it—everything I control. There's power in that.
I glance around. My backyard is a far cry from what it used to be. Once a simple, overgrown patch of grass, now it's something out of a dream.
Birds don't just fly—they perform for me, swirling in the sky as if they know I'm watching. The squirrels have turned into little anarchists, flipping between the branches like they own the place. I smirk.
A chaotic beauty. Just like I always imagined.
Still, I'm not interested in landscapes or animals for the sake of it. I don't do things for the "aesthetic."
There's a deeper need in me, something that pushes me forward—companionship. Sure, I could create more creatures, more lifelike beings to keep me company, but that feels… incomplete.
It's not about numbers or mere creations; it's about something real.
I close my eyes for a moment, and with a single thought, I conjure her.
She appears before me—Albedo. I can feel the shift in the air when she takes form, like a gravitational pull.
She's different from anything I've created before. Not just beautiful, but… dangerous. She stands there with her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, those eyes—golden, searching, almost predatory.
She's perfect. The kind of perfection that only I could pull off, one that speaks to my own taste. A masterpiece.
But she's not just an object of my creation. She's something more, something I can feel in the way she watches me, in the way the atmosphere shifts when she's near.
"Kai," she says, and her voice is low, almost dangerous. "There's something about us, isn't there? Like we're connected by more than just creation."
I raise an eyebrow. "You could say that." It's not a lie, but it's not the whole truth either. We're connected, sure.
But more because I willed it into being. I created her for a reason. She's not just a companion, but a weapon in the making, someone who could either help me or challenge me.
I'm not interested in the 'pure' bonds people talk about. This… this connection is different. It's mine.
She studies me, her gaze sharpening as if trying to read me, trying to understand my motives. "Your journey has been unlike any other," she says, and there's a hint of something in her voice. A mixture of admiration, maybe awe. Or maybe something else.
"I can see it, Kai. You've been to places most can't even imagine. But it's not the speed that matters, is it?"
I give a small, almost imperceptible smile. "No. It's never been about speed. It's about control. Choices are what shape reality. And I've made mine."
She nods slowly, seeming to understand. But there's a little spark of something in her eyes. "You're creating something here. Not just a world, not just a place. You're building… a defense."
I laugh, though there's no humor in it. "Is that what you think this is? A defense?" I look out over my realm, this place I've shaped, this world I control.
"I'm not defending anything, Albedo. I'm preparing. And if the world gets in my way? I'll reshape it. Make it something better. Or… tear it apart. Depends on how it plays out."
She tilts her head, eyes flicking with something like concern—or maybe curiosity. "You think you can change the entire fabric of existence, Kai? That everything can be remade in your image?"
"Why not?" My voice is cold, distant. "This is my world. I'm the one who decides how it works. If it takes destroying everything to create something new, then so be it.
I'm not bound by anyone's rules. Not the gods. Not fate. Nothing. I don't care about 'balance' or 'harmony.' I care about what works. About creating something that's mine, that nobody can take from me."
She's silent for a moment, studying me, and I can tell she's not quite sure what to make of it. Maybe she thinks I'm lost.
Maybe she thinks I've lost my humanity. Or maybe, just maybe, she's starting to understand me.
"You're different," she says, her voice softer now. "You're not doing this for anyone else. You're doing it for yourself. And I think… maybe that's why I'm here. To help you."
I turn to look at her, surprised by the vulnerability in her words. "Help me?" I almost scoff. "I don't need help. I'm already everything I need to be."
But there's something about the way she looks at me, something about her presence, that makes me pause.
Maybe I've built this world for myself, but somewhere in all of this—between the power, the control, the isolation—maybe I've missed something. Maybe there's more to it than just being in charge. Maybe, just maybe, Albedo's right. Maybe we're not so different after all.
I step forward, meeting her gaze with an intensity I didn't expect. "Fine. Help me. But make no mistake, Albedo—this world, this universe, it's mine to shape. I'll burn it all down if it means building something better. And if you're with me, you'd better be prepared for that."
She smiles—a small, knowing smile that feels like she's finally understanding me. "I wouldn't want it any other way."