The vision shifted once again, pulling Alex deeper into the memories recorded in the diary. He stood as a mere observer, watching the past unfold like a silent movie. In this moment, he felt both detached and painfully involved, as though his soul was tied to the story of Alexius Harrison—the boy whose life he now witnessed, but who wasn't truly him.
In the scene before him, the younger Alex stood facing Leo, his eyes dark with something that went beyond anger. It was bitterness, resentment—the very emotions Alex had felt festering inside of him for so long. It was as if they had finally bubbled to the surface in a way that couldn't be ignored.
"Leo," young Alex said, his voice trembling with a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. His fists were clenched at his sides, his jaw tight. "Why do you always have to act like you're better than me?"
Leo blinked, clearly taken aback by the accusation. "I don't… I don't think I'm better than you, Alex. We're brothers. We're supposed to help each other, not—"
"No!" Alex interrupted, his voice rising sharply. "You're not my brother. Not anymore."
The words hung in the air like a heavyweight. Leo's expression faltered confusion and hurt flashing across his face as he stared at his twin.
"What are you talking about?" Leo asked softly, stepping closer. "Of course, I'm your brother. We've always been—"
"I don't have a brother!" Alex snapped, his voice cold and unforgiving. "Not anymore."
Leo froze the hurt in his eyes deepening. For a moment, it looked like he was about to say something else, but the words never came. Instead, he just stood there, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world had suddenly crashed down on him.
Alex watched the scene unfold with a heavy heart, his chest tightening as he witnessed the moment when everything fell apart. He wasn't the one speaking, but the pain in the young Alex's voice echoed his own, like a reflection of the jealousy and resentment that had consumed him in his own life.
"I thought… I thought we were supposed to stick together," Leo finally whispered, his voice barely audible. "No matter what."
Alexius, the boy who had once loved his brother, was gone now. All that remained was a shell filled with anger and frustration. He turned his back on Leo, walking away without looking back.
And Leo, left standing there alone, watched his brother disappear into the distance.
The vision blurred for a moment, and Alex felt a painful tug in his chest as he watched the scene play out. He wanted to reach out, to stop young Alex from saying those words, to tell him that he didn't have to push Leo away. But he was helpless. This was the past—Alexius' past—and there was nothing he could do to change it.
As the vision settled into a new scene, Alex saw the effects of that moment ripple through the years. The relationship between the brothers grew strained, distant, and cold. Leo tried, time and again, to reach out to Alex, to fix what had been broken, but each time, Alexius pushed him further away. The jealousy that had taken root in Alexius' heart only grew stronger, twisting him into someone bitter and resentful.
He watched as young Alexius shut himself off from the world, refusing to let anyone get close to him. He became more withdrawn, more distant. And Leo, despite his pain, never gave up trying to fix things. But the damage had been done.
Eventually, Leo stopped trying.
Alex, the soul from another world, stood in the shadows of these memories, watching the fallout with a heavy heart. He could see how the jealousy and resentment had poisoned everything, how it had torn apart the bond between the brothers who had once been so close.
And now, standing here as a mere observer, Alex couldn't help but feel the weight of that pain. It wasn't his life, not truly, but the emotions were so raw, so real, that they might as well have been.
He watched the younger Alexius retreat further into himself, building walls around his heart that no one—not even Leo—could penetrate.
"I have no brother."
The words echoed in Alex's mind, a cruel reminder of the moment when everything had changed.
The vision faded, leaving Alex standing in the quiet emptiness of his thoughts. His heart felt heavy, weighed down by the tragedy of it all. He wasn't the real Alexius Harrison—he wasn't the one who had lived through that pain and betrayal—but watching it unfold had left him feeling hollow, as though a piece of him had been shattered by the weight of the emotions he had witnessed.
Leo and Alexius had been brothers once. They had shared everything, from their childhood dreams to their deepest fears. But jealousy had torn them apart, leaving nothing but pain and regret in its wake.
Alex sighed, closing his eyes for a moment as he tried to shake off the lingering sadness that clung to him.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, though he wasn't sure who the apology was for. Was it for Leo? For Alexius? Or was it for himself?
Maybe it didn't matter.
The scenery shifted once more, casting Alex into another world—one unlike the last. This time, it wasn't the young Alexius who lay on the ground in a pool of blood, but Leo. Leo, the golden child, the hero of humanity, was the one who had fallen.
Alex watched, frozen in place, as his brother's life ebbed away. Leo's eyes, once full of light and determination, were now dull, his breathing shallow as he looked up at Alex with a faint, broken smile.
"It's okay," Leo whispered, his voice so weak that Alex could barely hear him. "I did what I had to do. I… I protected you."
Alex fell to his knees beside his brother, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to scream, to rage against the universe for taking Leo away from him. But all he could do was hold his brother's hand as the life slowly drained from his body.
The scenery flickered and changed, like a cruel reel of memories. This time, Alex wasn't just an observer. He was there—he was living it, experiencing it as though it were happening all over again.
In this new vision, Alex had regressed once more, his mind set on one goal: saving Leo. He couldn't let his brother die. Not again. Not ever again.
But no matter what he did, no matter how hard he fought to change things, Leo kept dying for him. Over and over again, Leo sacrificed himself—whether in battle, in an accident, or even in quiet moments where fate seemed to intervene in the cruelest of ways. Alex could never save him.
The cycle repeated endlessly.
The 10th regression.
The 50th regression.
The 200th regression.
Each time, Alex would watch in horror as Leo died again. He tried everything—he became a villain, thinking it might distance himself from Leo and spare his brother's life. But even then, Leo found a way to protect him. He became a hero, hoping that his strength would be enough to save them both. But no matter how powerful he became, Leo always ended up dead. In some lives, Alex was nothing but a civilian, powerless and broken, watching from the shadows as Leo gave his life to save him once more.
The endless regressions blurred together in a haze of grief and despair.
Leo, dying again.
And again.
And again.
The weight of it crushed Alex, each regression pushing him further into madness. How many times could one person watch their brother die? How many times could he fail to save him?
Finally, the vision settled on the 397th regression.
This time, Alex stood at the edge of the battlefield, watching as Leo charged forward, sword in hand, ready to face the great enemy that threatened to end them all. But something had changed in Alex's eyes.
The determination to protect Leo, to save him, had taken on a new form. There was a quiet resignation in his heart—a deep understanding that he had been fighting this battle for centuries, and no matter how many times he tried to change it, Leo would always choose to protect him.
But this time, Alex had made a choice.
As Leo rushed toward the enemy, Alex moved faster. He threw himself in front of his brother, blocking the fatal blow meant for Leo. Pain exploded in his chest, but Alex didn't care. He smiled, even as his vision blurred and the world around him dimmed.
Leo's eyes went wide with shock, his scream tearing through the battlefield. "Alex! No!"
But it was too late. Alex had already made his decision.
For the first time in 397 lifetimes, it was Alex who died for Leo.
As the world faded to black, Alex felt a strange sense of peace. It was over. The cycle had finally ended. Leo would live. That was all that mattered.
The vision dissolved, leaving Alex standing alone in the emptiness of his mind. His heart ached with the weight of what he had seen, and tears stung his eyes as he thought about all the lives he had lived—lives where Leo had died, again and again, just to protect him.
In the end, it had taken nearly 400 lifetimes for Alex to realize the truth: Leo had always been willing to sacrifice himself for Alex. But this time, Alex had chosen to make the sacrifice instead.
His chest tightened as the memories of the endless regressions swirled in his mind, a heavy burden that weighed on his soul. The countless lives, the endless pain—it was all too much.
But now… it was over.
Alex let out a shaky breath and wiped his eyes, his heart still heavy with the memories of the past. He had seen so much—too much, perhaps. And now, he was left with the realization that in every life, in every world, Leo had loved him enough to die for him.
And in that final life, Alex had done the same.
He had finally broken the cycle.
But at what cost?
*****
The visions did not relent, taking Alex deeper into the mind and memories of Alexius Harrison—the other version of himself who had lived and died for a single purpose. The landscape shifted again, but this time, it was not a battlefield or a moment of heroism. It was a funeral.
Alex stood in the shadows, watching as people gathered around a simple grave. The air was heavy with sorrow, and the sky was gray, as if mourning alongside them. The figure at the forefront was Leo, standing alone, his head bowed low as he placed a single white flower atop the grave.
Alexius' grave.
Leo's face was expressionless, but his eyes were clouded with grief. He stood there, not as the hero of humanity, but as a brother who had lost the only family he had left. The pain in his eyes was unmistakable, and Alex could feel it like a knife twisting in his chest.
Alexius appeared beside him—older, wearier, and far more hardened by the countless lives he had lived. He gazed at the scene before them with a resigned expression, as if he had witnessed this moment countless times.
"See?" Alexius said softly, his voice devoid of any hope. "No matter what I do, it always ends the same. Leo may live, but the world falls apart anyway."
Alex turned to face him, confusion and frustration welling up inside him. "But you saved him. Isn't that enough?"
Alexius shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. "No. It's never enough. Saving Leo isn't enough to save the world. No matter how hard I tried, no matter how many times I went back, the world always crumbles. The aliens keep coming, and humanity falls. Leo… Leo alone can't stop it."
Alex looked back at the scene, his heart heavy with the weight of everything he had learned. Leo, despite surviving, could not stop the inevitable. Even after all Alexius had done, even after nearly 400 regressions, the world still fell to ruin.
"I thought…" Alexius began, his voice faltering as if struggling to put his thoughts into words. "I thought that if I kept Leo alive, he would be the key. That if I could protect him, humanity would stand a chance. But… Leo is only a piece of the puzzle. I see that now."
The wind blew gently, scattering leaves across the graveyard as Alexius continued. "I died for him, yes. But in the end, the world was still lost. He wasn't enough."
Alex stared at him, confusion knitting his brows together. "Then what is enough? What can stop it?"
Alexius let out a bitter chuckle. "I realized too late that it wasn't just about Leo. I needed to be more—stronger, smarter. I wasn't enough. Alexius Harrison wasn't enough." His voice dropped, filled with regret. "I needed someone more resilient, someone who could carry the burden that I couldn't. Someone who had already faced death and survived it."