Having regressed countless times, Zayn thought he would never be threatened, but currently, a noteworthy event transpired. Pursuers of his defeat, onlookers from afar, and masters of their art—along with having the power to counteract his blessing. The unfeeling shell of a man had its fire ignited once more, and the cause of it all was the forsaken prisoners of the clock.
"Useless trash! To think all you lots could do was speed up your time. All of you are nothing but fuel to empower that flame."
One of his pursuers escaped from his trap by releasing his grasp in time before the igloo took effect. An aura unlike those he had killed grew visible—a bloody, wicked radiance—even Zayn felt its malice, and he vaulted from his shelter. His once-impenetrable defense shattered as a streak of concentrated blood pierced a single block, ultimately breaking its structure.
"Well, aren't you a cunning one? You jumped into the air to escape? Did you think my power has a charge-up? Too bad for you—it doesn't."
Spheres of blood conjured themselves to the hulking forsaken as he fired a volley of concentrated blood. Zayn remained resolute and manifested an icicle lance, its edge near the handle resembling an umbrella. The steam of blood rushed to claim his life, and he bravely faced them head-on, bracing his lance for the inevitable clash.
"I've seen attacks like that before. Powerful and yet predictable. But most of all, they're easily countered the moment they clash."
As his right limb held his lance in place, his other made its way to his back. Opening his palm, a surge of frost burst forth, propelling him forward. Adding his weight into the mix, his acceleration steadily grew, giving him the momentum to face the attack.
The tip of the concentrated blood split apart upon colliding with his lance, and with its shape, the remaining force scattered.
"Sometimes, an obstacle can redirect the trajectory of an object. In this case, your fearsome attack. So, any more tricks?"
The attacks his pursuer launched were thwarted, and as his foot reunited with the ground, he was then faced with a brute-like strike.
"Your strength is no match for mine!!!"
The lance he used to vanquish his attackers' relentless firing easily shattered in the face of a crystallized blood axe.
"I agree, you outclass me in everything, but seeing your prior movement, I can already tell your limitations."
He diverted the axe's downward strike with his frost-coated palms and responded with an upward kick. Just when his attack was about to connect, he felt a chilling sense of dread at his side, warning him of its threat. He rewound himself, positioning himself back to a couple of seconds prior, narrowly evading the forsaken's bloody attack.
"Keep yappin' all ya want, boy-oh, you can't have possibly mastered that ability—"
His words went unfinished as his jaw felt the full blunt force of Zayn's roundhouse kick. Zayn rewound to the moment he was afloat in the air and propelled himself near his foe until he constructed a pole for landing. The freezing hail reached his foot, solidifying its defense and weaponizing it in the process. He proceeded to use another burst of ice to spin and land a strike.
"Rewind!!!"
He vanished again, but this time, he appeared before his staggered foe—back to the time he had first felt the malicious threat. He leaped and landed a strike to his foe's chin with his hardened knee, following up by sliding his leg to the neck. It swallowed the foe's neck whole, and he then proceeded to lock it with his left leg while his upper limbs secured their left arm.
"With how untrained my physique is, this wouldn't be possible. But with the addition of the Frost Heart... the odds are in my favor."
Frost-like tentacles burst from his back, pinning the rest of the forsaken's limbs, and with his fortified limbs, he persisted. He pushed his strength into his arms as his opponent flailed, desperate for freedom. Yet, Zayn twisted the joints and wrenched them backward. Unable to endure the pain, the forsaken lost focus, and the strength they applied to their neck slipped away.
"I guess this is goodbye!!!"
As Zayn was assured of his victory, the mockery he uttered made his foe grit their teeth—then suddenly, it flashed.
"Oh shit!!!"
Although he was late to respond, he never felt threatened. He found himself back at the moment he was first ambushed. However, the enemies he had killed lay on the ground, and before him stood the bloody forsaken regressor. Their hair had turned white, their skin pale and wrinkled, their eyes bloodier and full of malice—but most of all, they felt different.
"You dare... mess with me!!? I have no other choice but to do this. Feel the wrath of the unrelenting Blood Demon—"
The fallen corpses of both regressors and participants were extorted from their blood and absorbed by his predecessor. Zayn's expression remained cold as if he had predicted this outcome. His foe would inevitably be empowered, yet an eerie noise appeared.
The sound of his ever-so-annoying pocket watch grew louder, and at its climax, time moved in his favor.
"Mastery? You speak of the absolute? The only reason why I was surprised was because of your blessing. Everything else is inferior!"
As the hands of the clock slowed, time rewound—not for Zayn, but for his opponent, forcing them to relive a certain moment. The moment when this hulking figure lunged at the fabled regressor with its enormous axe. He stood in that spot, motionless. The only thing stopping the inevitable bleeding of his throat was the blade Zayn had timely thrust into position, piercing the Blood Demon's flesh.
'I did have my worries as to why they were so weak, but now it's clear as day. Not all of them comprehend these blessings. The ones I've faced before only knew how to use fast forward, and this one was able to rewind himself and everything around him. But such power is too costly, using his very time to compensate for the lack of divine power these blessings require.'
"You must be wondering why you can't move? That's because of this blade. The one the pocket watch provides."
To the eyes of others, it would look to be a mere blade, but in truth, it was the manifestation of one of the clock's hands. The true potential of this blade had yet to appear, but in the years he'd used it, Zayn noticed a unique power. Anything cut by the hands of his pocketwatch would have their time slowed and if they pierced directly would momentarily make them motionless
"Why this is odd? It never reacted like this before. So is this its true purpose?"
The predecessor struck by the blade had their bodies disfigured and burst and later merged with the hand of the clock. His pocket watch radiates an eerie light as he witnesses this crooked timepiece transformed, repairing all of its damage. The hands finally swerved clockwise after all this time and began to prey on the corpses of the dead regressors he slaughtered
"So all it took for this damned clock to tell the time was for my never-ending suffering to reach its horrific climax?"
The third interview was reaching its end; Zayn was physically exhausted at this point, so he called off his blade and grabbed a bow. The power of time engulfs his eyes once more raising his perception to match the speed that his blessing provides. Once he chose his target and released his arrow there wasn't a single person to ever outran his arrow, and yet someone did
"That's strange... I could've sworn my shot was perfect. But how was it evaded? I thought I've already murdered all of my kin?"
Zayn shakes off his worries and relocates himself the moment he misses his shot, and he goes for another round of killing. That enigma he thought was nothing more than a fluke happened twice, thrice until they became dozens of times. The pocket watch in his possession never reacted, yet there are a few individuals who can match his sped-up perception.
"This hasn't happened before in my previous regressions. I need to lay low for a while. Resting should be my top priority,"
As careful as he was during the ambush of his forsaken predecessors, he, too, felt the toll of using his blessings. Having killed hundreds by now he retired and went into hiding till the end of this blood bath was announced. He wondered if the ones he struck were this timeline's chosen savior, but the fact that it tied deeply to him was unreal
'A savior like the previous timelines is impossible. Like Veron said this phenomenon is strange. Plus, it's deeply connected to me, seeing as someone aside from myself had exhibited the same blessings that I thought were unique to me alone. Yet the possibility of them being stronger regressors isn't off the table, and the clock's new form might be cloaking me,'
Zayn was theorizing that weird occurrence one after the other as he tried to make sense of a capable few dodging his arrows. But all of those thoughts came to a close the moment he and the other survivors heard the beckoning call of the interviewer. There, he was quickly congratulated by the eldritch horror as the champion of this interview and the other nine elites.
"There he is! Our most esteemed candidate. I had fun watching your massacre. To think you killed hundreds with a bow!!!"
The once calm and collected second to the ninth runner up to the top had their gaze focused on him, and for the first time, he was shocked. A fiery and bone-chilling aura began to manifest around him as if to ward off the mindless beast for them to realize the true predator in hiding. These geniuses who claimed the top 10 spots alongside him were past villains of his dreadful years as the guiding light of the chosen saviors