Fire, rain, destruction.
The world was set ablaze in its final moments, rain poured from the skies as the world seemed to slowly burn out and fall apart. Blood stained the once blue planet, as the air was soaked in soot and ash and darkness consumed the once bright skies. In the middle of nowhere a mountain of corpses stacked so high that it could have been seen for miles. On top of the mountain of corpses each mutilated beyond compare, unrecognizable due to the damage they suffered, stood a man.
His short jet black hair was drenched in blood, sweat, and soot, as the smell of acrid smell blood, rot, and ash filled the air and invaded his senses. Raindrops fell onto his body as his head hung low, his chest moving up and down as he panted and tried to catch his breath, his ribs bruised and broken.
By his right side a bloody spear, what once was a symbol of his power was now lined with cracks that threatened to consume the entire weapon. The spear itself laid stabbed through the corpse of a monster. His left arm lay limp while his left hand tightly gripped a gun with whatever remaining strength he had.
Pieces of metal were strewn about his body broken blades and shrapnel pierced his armor, tearing and exposing various parts of his chest and arms. His body had been lacerated by thousands of slashes, with gashes that formed chasms on his flesh. He stood atop the mountain of corpses, his mind fading in and out of consciousness, his friends, family, and allies all but a distant memory.
In the distance an otherworldly being descended, its figure shrouded in a blinding light that lit up the darkness that had consumed the lands.
The man caught his breath and opened his eyes as his grey irises were exposed to the world. His features were hard to distinguish as it was buried under, dirt, ash, and blood. His eyes gleamed with fury and a deep emptiness. He was a man who had lost everything, a man who had nothing left to lose.
He was tired. He had played the game and was the last one left. Despite not being the strongest he was the one who survived the cataclysm. He had finally finished this game.
A disembodied almost robotic voice rang out through the world. "Congratulations on surviving, however, due to a lack of participants this world has now been prepared for termination, the fate of this world has been decided, we thank you for participating".
The man stood fatigued, tired, trying to comprehend what was just said as a new voice spoke.
"I hoped for Better, but this was their fate from the first day, Andrew Bartholomew Meez. You have done well, but unfortunately, as you have just heard, you are scheduled for termination. Such is the fate of your world, it has been an educational experience."
Andrew stood there barely clinging to life he stared at the figure of the voice, its shroud of blinding light burned his eyes as he could barely comprehend the shape of a person. Hatred, pain, agony, loss, loneliness, every emotion flickered through his eyes as he continued to stare at the light-filled being, till his eyes displayed one final emotion 'acceptance'.
As the sound of rain fell and thunder rolled, a calming peace seemed to take over the blood-soaked battlefield.
"No"
Though it was a whisper, its voice lacking in impact or energy, it echoed through the battlefield.
"NO!"
He screamed out in objection, his grey eyes glowed slightly as he refused to die. He couldn't fall not anymore, not again, he couldn't die, not after everything, this unfair world, this cruel world. His hatred, his anger, and his will to survive drove him as he took a step toward the light.
"NO!"
"FATE, I REFUSE IT!"
"TO DIE HERE, I REFUSE IT!"
"THIS ENDING, I REFUSE IT!"
"I WILL LIVE, I WILL SURVIVE, AND I WILL HUNT EVERY LAST ONE YOU DOWN! DO YOU HEAR ME!"
The figure watched the human with an amused smirk. A soothing voice responded calmly, "Child you can barely even walk, you can't run from fate". The figure moved towards and stared into Andrew's eyes, expecting to see what it has seen so many times before, despair and acceptance.
However, all he saw were cold grey eyes of resolution, determination, and a sheer will to keep fighting staring back at him.
With the last of his strength, Andrew grabbed his nearly broken spear, imbuing every last drop of his power, his life, and his will into the weapon as he attempted to slash apart this fate.
In a quick move, Andrew burst forward with blinding speed, ready to attack one final time. The figure hadn't expected this, Andrew was able to catch it off guard allowing his blade an opening for one strike. As the blade flew true and found purchase into the figure. The final attempt of a desperate man struck true stabbing right into where its heart would have been if it was human.
The figure fell into shock seemingly unable to comprehend how Andrew had hurt it, from the wound both Andrew and the figure saw ichor dripping down his blade making contact. As the ichor touched his hands it began to glow brightly as it seemingly seeped into Andrew's skin. However, Andrew ignored this as a satisfied smirk graced his face as he felt the figure's shock.
In a moment the figure recovered from its shock and slowly became enraged. Power rolled off its figure in waves as the surrounding space started to twist and bend to its will.
"How DARE YOU!"
"What was the point of this!"
"DID YOU THINK THIS WOULD CHANGE ANYTHING!"
The prior rage burned out instantly as the figure started to chuckle before fully laughing instead.
"Barely a cut and yet you smirk. This is pathetic, desperate, and lonely mortal, I don't understand why you fight."
Getting no response from a quiet Andrew the figure continued to stare at him. All of a sudden a primal scream echoed through the wastelands that was once Earth, shaking the world to its very core. As Andrew felt a pain unlike any other. His body felt like it was being torn apart straight down to the atom, and the sound of his screams became trapped as it was drowned out by the blood that began choking his lungs.
Slowly but surely his vision began fading to black, not before he heard the sound of something snapping.
When he opened his eyes what greeted him was an absolute darkness. The darkness of the void which surrounded him had torn his connection between all his senses. In the void there was nothing and there is nothing, he couldn't see and couldn't feel.
All of a sudden a light flashed, and Andrew closed his eyes instinctively. As he opened his eyes he appeared to be in a room, white walls lined the sides of the room, and a singular bed lay on the side, next to what appeared to be a wardrobe. The room caused Andrew to feel an eerie sense of familiarity. As Andrew drew his vision back, the room seemed to stretch endlessly. From a distance, a boy could be seen at the other end of the room working on something at his desk as his back was facing away from him.
Andrew stood for a while in silence, looking around, as the soft echoes of pencils scratching on paper drew his attention back to the kid. Filled with apprehension, Andrew decided to cross the impossibly large room and approach the kid. As he neared the young boy he could see golden lines almost imperceptible to the eye attached to every part of the boy, seemingly leading straight up into nothing.
The boy sat there like a puppet with strings that controlled his every movement, each monotonous and robotic in every way.
"Hey," Andrew called out to the boy but shook his head when he found the boy unresponsive.
"Hey!" He called out once more when he neared the boy.
"Hey!" This time as he approached the boy and attempted to turn him around.
"HEY, WHAT ARE YOU—" Andrew was cut off as the boy spun around and made eye contact with him. He stared at him in shock finally realizing why this room seemed so familiar, grey met grey as he was met face to face with his child self.