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A Meaningless Hero
Paralogue: A story that never was

Paralogue: A story that never was

A dream. Gray realized that he was dreaming. The vision that he saw before him was one that did not exist in any reality. That was his realization. A transient scene that would fade from memory on his awakening.

Meaningless.

Even so, he found himself unable to look away.

A world of infinite potential. It was a land where numerous fantasies came to life, springing forth from the wellsprings of desire. Magic was a dominant force in the world, allowing anybody to achieve their dreams given enough time, effort, and sacrifice.

The world he saw was one that seemed utterly brilliant, filled with infinite potential... but it was one wreathed in tragedy.

A dream. Gray realized that he was dreaming, and that a dream was what he saw. But in seeing that dream, he quickly realized that it was no dream, but rather a nightmare.

-A seemingly cliché scene.

In a darkened throne room within an obsidian castle, there was an almighty figure wreathed in dark magic. Before him were a group of four brave warriors, sent by the world to retrieve the light of tomorrow.

-Battered. After the initial exchange, one where the figure launched a barrage of every magic possible, the four chosen by the world were laid low, ragged and wounded.

A proper script would have it be that, in this fateful moment, the warriors gained the blessing of the heavens and triumphed over evil.

-But such a scene was not to be.

The figure spoke. A deep and resonant male voice. "Fools. Did you believe that coming here would change anything?"

They were arrogant words, but ones that did not come without merit.

The almighty figure was standing tall and unscathed. Though his form and appearance was obscured by dark energy, it was clear that he had yet to suffer any sort of wound.

The same could not be said of the four that had set off to defeat him.

The group of warriors were a typical RPG party. In the lead, garbed in shining silver platemail and a golden crown blessed by the Heavens, was a young man. It would have been more accurate to call him a youth, one barely in his teens.

His blond hair was matted in blood and dust, but his blue eyes were narrowed in determination. He knelt on the ground, clutching at a tattered sword that looked to have once been splendid.

At the youth's side was a young girl with crimson hair. She was donned in the attire of a witch, wearing a pointed black hat and a flowing, violet robe. Like the youth, she too was kneeling. But unlike the youth's determined gaze, hers was that of abject fear. Her trembling hands clutched a wand of white wood, carved with intricate runes.

As for the other two... they had been blown away by the initial attack from the figure.

One had been an older man that looked to be a cross between a man and a silver wolf. Like the youth, he wore silver platemail. However, his had been shattered and exposed a bare torso caked in blood and burns. He lay slumped against a stone wall, unmoving and blood pooling beneath him.

The final member of the party had been a woman with long silver hair and pointed ears. Beautiful, and someone that would have drawn the eyes of any who looked upon her. At the moment, however, her appearance would have drawn eyes for different reasons. Impaled upon stone spikes and her torso torn apart from concussive forces... the terrific beauty had turned into a horrific display.

The almighty figure raised his right hand, palm facing upwards, and clenched it into a fist. "The Goddesses of this land are no more, and now their power is my own. With that power... well, the likes of you need not know more than 'Resistance is futile'. Still... for the 'hero' and his lover to survive my magic... it appears that the world does not allow for any absolutes..."

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Hearing the figure's word, the youth's eyes widened. Coming to a sudden realization, he turned his head back to look at his companions. When he saw what had become of them, a strangled cry emerged from his throat and he called their names. "Sylvana! Rorin!"

"Heh." The almighty figure let out a short laugh and waved his hand.

"Rein! Look out!" The crimson haired witch pushed the youth to the ground and swung her wand.

A thunderous explosion resounded as crackling black lightning met a crimson barrier.

"Tch. Unexpectedly, it seems the world has empowered you beyond my predictions." The almighty figure said those words and let out a wry laugh. "Truly, I seem to be Fated to fall at the hands of a new 'Hero' today."

Was it the figure's words or his calm way of speaking? Either way, it enraged the youth enough for him to stand up and charge at the figure. The tattered sword was empowered by divine light and swung to cleave the figure in two.

However, whether because of the youth's weakened state or the sword itself, the most that was done was stop a foot before the figure's body. That didn't deter the youth. Instead, he grit his teeth and pushed forward. "Of course! Someone like you...! A monster like you deserves to die! If you died, the world... everyone would be saved!"

"A monster, am I?" The figure laughed again, an empty and hollow sound. However, his following words were sharp and clear. "You are wrong, 'Hero'. I am as far from a monster as there can be. And the world knows it. After all... if I was truly a monster, why is it that only you four were sent to fight me and not the combined forces of the three kingdoms?"

"T-that's..."

The youth's determination wavered.

-Of course. If the figure was truly a threat to the world, then even if it was hopeless the world should be united behind the four. Yet, giving empty praises and words that they were 'the world's last hope', the four had been sent off with barely any equipment, forced to obtain the Divine Artifacts on their own.

The figure laughed and gestured behind the youth. "It seems that your companion has realized it. Why not ask her?"

The youth turned around.

The crimson-haired witch was sweating and looked worse for the wear. It was the result of blocking an attack from the almighty figure. Yet, that was not completely why she looked like that. She stared at the figure in shock. "It cannot be... you are not a demon."

"What are you talking about, Annie?!" The youth grit his teeth and turned back to the figure. "Of course he's a demon! If he's not, why would he kill the Goddesses?!"

The crimson-haired witch shook her head. "Impossible," she muttered. "Impossible. That's impossible. Why...?" The shock in her eyes changed, twisting into despair. She got to her feet and clutched her hands to her chest. "Why? Why are you doing this?! Why has humanity's hero decided to turn against it?!"

A pained declaration.

It was enough to cause the youth to freeze. "Wha-? He's the hero that was supposed to help us defeat the demon lord? But why is he-?"

A moment's hesitation. In that brief gap where both the youth and the witch sough an answer-

Schick.

-the confrontation was over.

A sword more splendid than beautiful, more valiant than splendid, pierced the hero's heart.

The youth's eyes were wide open in shock. He stared at the sword in his chest and said, "Valor...? But-"

His final thoughts would never be heard.

In a single, fluid motion, the sword was wrenched upwards, dying the throne room crimson.

The witch that remained could only stare in shock as she was covered in her lover's blood. When she realized what had happened, she screamed and ran towards the figure. "WHY?"

The figure didn't say anything, nor did he move. His aura was enough to keep the witch... no, it was simply a girl now. A distraught young girl shocked at the loss of her love.

"You saved us! You swore to be humanity's hero! You united everyone under your name! So why-?!" The girl swallowed, shaking her head. Tears flew from her eyes like falling stars. "Why are you doing this, Father?!"

For a moment, the figure's aura dimmed, letting the girl see the man standing within.

Her eyes lit up with hope-

"I am not your father."

-only to vanish forevermore as a bolt of black lightning struck her out from existence.

And like that, the almighty figure was alone. He looked upwards, seemingly seeing through his castle's roof to the sky above and muttered, "...Not enough, even with this. How many more lives will it take to sate your thirst, Goddess? How much longer will you foist this role of both hero and villain upon me?"

Silence.

"...Still no answer? Hmph." The figure lowered his gaze and sat back down in his throne. "Very well. But the time draws near for when I can reach your level. And when that time arrives..." The figure lifted his right hand, watching as black lightning crackled. But unlike the black lightning from before, this lightning held flashes of other colors as well. Blue, violet, gold... they twirled together with the black lightning in a menacing cycle. "...I will have my reckoning."

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