JANUARY 1ST, 2037. LOCATION: UNKNOWN.
The constant smell of flames and death carried their selves through the air - The Monarchs of Death. Billions of people had already suffered the same fate, but there remained a few survivors - ones who were lucky enough to make it this far. But they all cowered in fear. They knew they weren't going to survive, knowing they were holding up their eventual fate. All the people that they had known...had already ran, facing death in its face. But beyond the simple entity that was the cause for all of their pain, it had its own servants, patrolling through the crumbled, decayed streets. The thousands of years the entity waited were not about to go to waste.
The Womb - a limitless resource of chaotic energy, once sealed thousands of years prior in the deepest depths of hell, until unleashed by the weakening of its seal, causing its slumber to fade. Although, it seems unable to be able to take a humanoid shape, it remains in the shape of an egg, birthing vessels of chaos energy that roam around and destroy. Within minutes, the last remaining survivors were all assassinated, their bodies split in half. But in their rush, there was one left, sprinting across the empty city, relying on his legs to move properly. His shirt was torn, his shoes destroyed, his face dirty, cut and bleeding. No matter the amount of pain, he knew he had to escape.. The inevitability was obvious, but he knew he had to find a way to fight back.
"If I could just have one more day...where I could see everybody...just one last time...I'd tell them...that I'm sorry for surviving. I wish I could be there with everybody in the afterlife...but right now, there's just one thing I have to do. Even if I have no idea why I'm doing it. If I already know my fate, why am I trying so hard to avoid something that I know will happen..?"
Clutching onto his chest, he coughed up blood from his ash-ingested lungs, stumbling over, watching the vessels of the Womb drift towards him with haste. His heart beat. He no longer had any more energy to operate. With a shake of his legs, he crawled, forcing his hands across the ground. But with a gentle grace, one of the vessels of the Womb landed directly on his back, stopping him from moving any further, and it started to speak,
"You hid well, child. To believe you managed to live this long. I commend you for your achievement, and your failure. Believing you can outrun your fate...that was the first mistake you made. Covered in greed, you chose to leave everybody that you loved behind, just to make sure that you survived. No matter what you try, you're just a pitiful excuse of a human. That is why I hate humanity." The vessel spoke, holding onto him, its hand slowly reaching closer to his neck, but the boy coughed out the remaining blood needed, allowing him to speak - but barely.
"If that's why you hate humanity...you never understood why you hated them at all.." He coughed, clenching his fist while holding the ground, "You think I wanted to leave everybody I loved behind...you're wrong. Right now, I'm...living...for..."
"That's right, human. You don't even know what you're living for...Tell me your name."
"Shi...ro..." As he spoke, his head dropped to the ground. The vessel glanced down at him, stomping on him repeatedly before holding his head up by his hair.
"The last thing you'll remember is that name. Hold onto it, for you have nothing left, foolish creature." The vessel spoke, holding its hand to his throat.
SLICE!
Within an instant, for all it seemed, the boy known as Shiro, one trying to outrun fate, was caught. As everybody in his life knew…there wasn't much that he could do. No matter how he tried, he couldn't achieve anything that he wanted. Everything he was good at? Somebody was better. What he was bad at? He never improved. Like he was a pause in time people simply observed at. A memory. Distant. For once, he wanted to fight back, fight against being that one memory that people simply look past. He wanted to be useful. He didn't care about his fate. He knew he was bound to die. But he wasn't ready. He wasn't ready for his throat to be brutally thrashed against.
Even though he was dead in a sense, he seemed to clutch onto consciousness. He felt an overwhelming warmth linger over his body, a light flashing within his eyelids. A sensation like no other. It was comforting…soft…he felt alive. With his euphoria, he felt a miracle; a chance that seemed impossible, no matter what situation you put it in. He felt the flesh bubble near his throat, muscles starting to entangle and reconnect. He had no mouth, yet he had to scream. Despite the miracle of a regeneration, there was a slight pain that followed it, edging for about a second before the pain faded gradually. With a slight twitch of his eyes, he squinted, looking at the biome of light he seemed to be shrouded in. In front of him, he saw a hand, and he heard a voice.
"You look as if you need my help." The voice spoke, feminine, yet mysterious. Her tone carried a warm, pleasing embrace. As soon as Shiro's mouth was about to open, the hand drifted towards his mouth, making sure he didn't say anything, "Try not to speak. You'll just hurt yourself." She spoke, her hand drifting from his mouth to his forehead. Feeling an overwhelming feeling come over him, he closed his eyes once again, entering a state of sleep.
THE LAND OF YOMIZORA.
The sun burned through the clouds with its rays. It was another sunny day, which was regular in the land of Yomizora. The people of the land were infused with the power of the sun, giving them the ability to harness light, which they used to power their buildings. Shiro had managed to be teleported here, unknowing of anything beside the constant amounts of voices he heard circling around his head. He could hear the constant whispers of the people glaring down at him, wondering why there was a boy in torn clothing with blood all over him. But he didn't have any strength. He didn't feel like he did. No matter how many times he tried to push his body up, he struggled, feeling an immense amount of pain, like his mind relapsed to that horrific moment every time he tried something. He felt defeated. But then, his ear twitched, hearing footsteps that seemed to move closer to him. His heart beat. He felt his legs quiver. His fingers slowly reacted, trying to make him move.
"Please…please…don't…I can't…move…" He thought to himself, breathing gently through his nose before he slightly opened his mouth, allowing him to exhale. With this, he started building strength, standing up, but using the wall as a crutch. He had already felt lightheaded from moving too fast for his comfort. Being dead..and coming back to life…it wasn't his strong suit. Taking a deep breath, he glanced to his left and right, noticing that he was in some sort of alleyway. Noticing that the left route led him to the more populated area, he decided to walk, holding onto the wall for support. His eyelids were heavy. His legs were trembling, but he still chose to move, both out of fear AND out of confidence.
"Is he okay?"
"What's wrong with him?"
"Don't get involved."
"It was probably the rogues."
Shiro stopped, looking around at everybody else. They all seemed to be looking up at something…a silhouette in the air…but he knew he had to continue. So holding onto the wall, he continued, taking staggered breaths before he saw smoke emit in front of him. His eyes widened as he saw the shadow slowly descend, lingering over his frame.
"That isn't how you obey a deity. When a deity speaks, you watch and listen to the divinity that spills from my lips. Do you understand? Foolish mortal." The person spoke, seeming to speak with authority. Is this the one that Shiro feared? He slightly tilted his head backwards, nearly staring at him before he felt a slight tap on his left shoulder. Before he could even react or SEE what tapped him, the so-called deity was sent decently backwards, managing not to crash into any people. The glimpse that Shiro saw…2 people wearing cloaks..
"You two dare to challenge me. Pitiful, as per usual." The deity spoke, glaring at the both of them with disgust, like they were sins, the latter of the world.
"You'd call us pitiful, yet you resort to basic hypnosis. I'm not surprised you'd stoop this low, KAELEN!" A feminine voice shouted, the person in the other cloak remaining quiet. With a mild disturbance in the air, Shiro watched the both of them, trying to find a safe place to remain before any combat ensued. Either way, they knew not to cause a scene during a moment of hypnosis. They couldn't have any damage done on their accord. So with that, they both glared directly at the false deity, for any move that he made, the fight would start. Shiro simply glanced at the both of them with a sense of awe, "The power I can sense from all three of them...it's amazing.."