Rad and Elara stood in the expansive meeting room of the Eclipser, a massive starship that functioned as a mobile stronghold for its inhabitants. The room was illuminated by the soft blue glow of a holographic display that projected a three-dimensional map of the multiverse. The metallic walls, etched with ancient runes that pulsed faintly, gave off a cold, sterile ambiance, their surfaces reflecting the dim light of the monitors embedded within.
The floor beneath them was a polished onyx, faintly shimmering with traces of starlight, creating the illusion of standing atop a cosmic void. The air was heavy with tension, a near-physical weight pressing down on everyone in the room.
Rad stood rigid, his towering frame tense, his pale hands still clenched from the news they had just received. Beside him, Elara shifted uneasily, her sharp green eyes scanning the room, her black hair falling into her face as she nervously pushed it back. The faint hum of the ship’s engine was the only sound, a steady reminder of their isolation in the void of space.
To Rad’s left stood Seridia Calwyn, the embodiment of poise and melancholy. Her appearance was ethereal: pale, alabaster skin seemed to glow faintly, and her deep blue eyes carried an unnatural depth, as though one could lose themselves in the oceans of time within them. Her silver hair cascaded like liquid mercury down her back, and the strands shimmered faintly as though infused with the essence of time itself.
She wore a flowing gown of deep violet hues, embroidered with constellations that subtly shifted and glimmered with every movement. A faint aura of distortion surrounded her, the air bending subtly around her figure as though time refused to flow naturally in her presence.
Seridia’s face betrayed no emotion, but her posture was weighed down with grief. She had long since accepted the loss of her world and her family, trapped in eternal stasis, but the pain lingered like a scar across her soul. Her hands, folded neatly in front of her, trembled ever so slightly, betraying her inner turmoil.
Beside Seridia stood Aurelius, a figure as imposing as he was resplendent. His tall, muscular frame was adorned with gilded armor, every inch of it ornately detailed with engravings of wealth and conquest. The armor gleamed brilliantly under the room’s soft light, but its once-pristine surface was marred by scratches and cracks, remnants of battles long past.
His golden eyes burned with a fierce intensity, and his chiseled jaw was set in a perpetual expression of determination and bitterness. Aurelius’s long, flowing hair was the color of molten gold, cascading down his back like a lion’s mane. Draped across his shoulders was a cloak of golden threads, tattered and frayed at the edges, a stark contrast to his otherwise regal appearance.
Around his waist hung a golden chain, each link engraved with the names of his lost family and kingdom. Though his exterior exuded wealth and power, there was a hollowness to his gaze, the grief of his family’s petrification etched into his soul.
Next to Aurelius stood Aelith, an otherworldly beauty whose presence radiated both allure and danger. Her deep crimson hair flowed like silk, framing a face that seemed sculpted by the gods themselves. Her piercing violet eyes sparkled with an unnatural light, capable of piercing through the strongest of resolves. Her skin, smooth and flawless, was tinged with a faint, otherworldly glow, hinting at her succubus heritage.
Aelith’s attire was a mix of elegance and lethality: a form-fitting black dress laced with silver threads that shimmered like moonlight, accentuating her lithe, graceful figure. The dress was slit high on one side, revealing a dagger strapped to her thigh, its hilt encrusted with enchanted amethyst. Around her neck hung a delicate pendant containing a lock of Charlie’s hair, her one true love, a reminder of the man she could never have.
Despite her outward composure, her clenched fists and the slight quiver of her lips betrayed her simmering fury and grief. At the front of the room, standing before the holographic display, was Erydon, the Immortal King. His youthful appearance belied the centuries he had lived.
His sharp features were framed by short, raven-black hair, streaked with silver at the temples. His piercing hazel eyes were both commanding and sorrowful, reflecting the burden of immortality. He wore a tailored black coat with silver trim, its high collar lending him an air of authority. Beneath it, his battle-worn armor gleamed faintly, its dark steel etched with runes of protection and power.
The tension was suffocating. Each sorcerer carried the weight of personal tragedy, their shared grief and hatred for Ray Cooper uniting them in purpose. As Rad and Elara stood silently, they could feel the palpable anger and sorrow radiating from their comrades. It was a room of broken souls, bound together by loss and a singular, burning desire for vengeance.
Erydon broke the silence, his voice calm but firm. “As I said before, we have located him,” he said, gesturing to the holographic display. The image shifted to show a Horizon heights that was still thriving, hover cars flew above the city’s streets at high speed and its inhabitants walked through the city happily, blissfully unaware of its grim future. “Ray Cooper is here.”
The words hung In the air like a storm cloud, and the room seemed to grow colder. Elara’s green eyes burned with intensity as she clenched her fists, while Rad’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening as he gazed at the image of their target. one by one, the others looked to Erydon, their resolve hardening.
The hologram’s view transitioned seamlessly, diving from the sunlit streets of Horizon Heights into the dimly lit, industrial undercity below. The coffee shop in question stood out like a patch of warmth amid the cold, metallic surroundings. Its exterior was constructed from polished steel and glowing neon lights, with a softly glowing sign reading “Gear & Grind Café”. The interior was modest but cozy, with metallic walls accented by holographic screens displaying serene beach landscapes.
The tables and chairs were a mix of dark wood and sleek chrome, giving the place a fusion of rustic and futuristic charm. Chimeric workers, hybrids of human and animal DNA, moved gracefully between tables. A wolf-like chimera with silver fur and piercing blue eyes wore a neat black vest over a white shirt, paired with black trousers. A bird-like chimera, her feathers shimmering faintly under the warm light, wore a tailored navy-blue blouse and pencil skirt, completing her professional look. Meanwhile, robot waitstaff, sleek and humanoid in design with chrome exteriors and glowing eyes, navigated the floor with mechanical precision. Their attire was minimal but tasteful: metallic bow ties and aprons.
The holographic feed zoomed in on a booth near the window. A curly-haired boy with warm brown locks and an innocent smile sat comfortably, wearing his favorite beige jacket over a simple white T-shirt and black jeans. He thanked a chimera waitress, who nodded warmly before placing a glass of apple juice in front of him.
Beside the boy sat a diminutive, onyx-black robotic infant, its surface gleaming faintly under the café’s soft lighting. Its large, glowing green eyes flickered as it picked up a tiny cup of blueberry-flavored oil, lifting it to its mouth with small, dexterous hands.
The room inside the starship grew tense as Erydon’s voice broke the silence. “This,” he began, his finger gesturing to the holographic boy, “is Henry Cooper, when he was a child.”
The revelation was met with a wave of disbelief. Rad and Elara’s reactions were immediate, their widened eyes betraying their shock. “Henry Cooper?” Elara echoed, her voice rising. “But… he looks so different.”
Rad crossed his arms, shaking his head. “Duh, he’s just a kid. People look different when they’re small.”
Aelith, more reserved but equally intrigued, tilted her head as her gaze fixed on the robotic infant. “Why is he taking care of a small robot?” she questioned, her voice laced with curiosity and suspicion.
Seridia and Aurelius watched silently at first, but Aurelius’s patience wore thin. He crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing in frustration as he awaited an explanation.
Erydon let out a heavy breath, his expression darkening. His next words came slowly, deliberately: “That robot… is Ray.”
The weight of his statement fell over the room like a hammer, leaving everyone speechless.
Rad was the first to recover, his voice low and incredulous. “He’s… spending time with his dad?” His tone carried a mix of disbelief and bitterness.
Elara shook her head, her brows furrowed. “What? But how? Why would he even be there?” she asked, her words tumbling out in quick succession.
Aelith, despite her hatred for Ray, found herself softening at the sight. “Well… he did grow up without a father,” she murmured, almost as if reasoning with herself.
Seridia spoke quietly, her voice laced with faint surprise. “And here I thought that boy was heartless.”
Aurelius, however, erupted with anger, slamming his fist onto the table, denting it. “That bastard! He destroys my kingdom and kills my family, then fucks off someplace for some quality time with his dad!?”
Erydon remained calm, though his voice carried a somber edge. “No, Ray did not travel to this universe to bond with his father.”
Rad’s gaze snapped to him. “But… then why is he there?” he demanded.
The holographic display shifted back to the boy and robot, the child laughing as he spoke to the infant-like machine. Erydon’s expression grew graver. “He is trying to alter this universe’s timeline,” he said grimly.
The revelation sent a ripple through the room. “You know him as Henry Cooper,” Erydon continued, “but his name was Kite Caulder before he was kidnapped and brainwashed. I trust you three are familiar with Victoria’s in-depth articles on this?” His eyes flicked between Elara, Rad, and Aelith.
The three nodded somberly. Elara’s voice was quiet, almost pained. “They were hard to read. What Rook did to those kids… the experiments, the brainwashing, it was horrific.”
A silence settled before Rad broke it. “So what you’re saying is… Ray’s trying to create another Henry?”
Erydon nodded, his expression grim. “I don’t know why, but I do know this is his end goal.”
Seridia shook her head, her voice a whisper. “To think he’d even go after his own father…”
Aurelius growled in response, his voice dripping with venom. “I’d expect nothing less from that bastard.”
Erydon stepped forward, his presence commanding as he rested his hands firmly on the metallic table before him. His voice, though calm, carried an undercurrent of urgency and a weight that silenced any lingering whispers in the room. “Listen, everyone,” he began, his gaze sweeping across the room, locking eyes with each of them in turn. “This could be our only chance to stop Ray, to avenge everyone he’s killed.”
The air in the room seemed heavier, the tension palpable as his words hung like a blade over their heads. Erydon straightened, his broad shoulders tensing as he glanced back at the hologram, the innocent, joyful image of Henry and the black robotic infant that was, impossibly, Ray.
“And if we fail…” His voice faltered for the briefest of moments, but the resolve returned quickly, hardening like steel. “There’s no telling how many more lives Ray will ruin, how much more devastation he’ll leave in his wake.”
The silence that followed was suffocating, the kind that forces everyone to confront the reality of the situation. Each person in the room carried their own pain, their own reasons for standing against Ray, but Erydon’s words drew their disparate threads into a single, shared resolve.
He broke the silence once more, his tone shifting into something more somber yet determined. “So,” he said, his voice softer but no less commanding, “prepare yourselves. Say your goodbyes. Whatever loose ends you have, tie them up now.” He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. “Because we might not come out of this alive.”
His gaze lingered on the holographic display, on the boy and the robotic infant, their laughter frozen in time. There was a flicker of something in his eyes, regret, perhaps, or even a fleeting hope that this wasn’t the path they had to walk. But that hope had been extinguished long ago, and his expression hardened once more.
“But we sure as hell won’t go down easy,” Erydon finished, his voice steady and unwavering. He turned to face the room fully, the light from the hologram casting shadows across his face. The fire in his eyes sparked something in the others, a determination to fight, no matter the cost.
Seridia sat quietly on the edge of her small bed within the confines of her quarters on the starship. The room was dimly lit, a single overhead lamp casting a warm glow that barely reached the metallic walls. The décor was minimal, as if the room was meant for function rather than comfort: a simple desk with scattered papers and notes, a shelf lined with old, worn books on temporal theory, and a holographic projection device that flickered intermittently, displaying a looping image of a serene landscape from her home world.
The bed was neatly made, save for the spot where she now sat, her slender fingers clutching a small, weathered photograph encased in a fragile frame. The photo depicted a happy moment from what felt like a different lifetime, her family gathered in front of their modest home. Her parents stood arm in arm, their smiles radiant, while her younger brother sat cross-legged in front, holding a tiny clockwork toy that their father had built for him.
Seridia herself was there too, standing tall and proud, her hair tied back in a simple braid, her eyes gleaming with hope and the promise of a bright future.
But that future had been stolen. Her hands trembled slightly as she traced the edges of the photo, her pale skin stark against the dark frame. Her mind replayed the moment her life had unraveled, a memory she could never escape.
Ray’s reckless use of his cosmic powers had unleashed a surge that tore through her home world, warping time itself. Entire cities had been swallowed into temporal rifts, their inhabitants frozen in moments that would never end.
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Her parents, caught in one such anomaly, were frozen mid-laugh, their faces forever etched with an expression of joy that twisted the knife in her heart every time she remembered it. Her brother’s fate was even crueler; his temporal stasis had fractured, leaving him in an endless loop of agony. She could still hear his screams, echoing in her mind like a haunting melody.
As she sat there, the weight of her grief pressed down on her chest, making it hard to breathe. Her internal thoughts swirled with a mix of sorrow and anger.
Why? She asked herself for the thousandth time. Why did it have to be us? What did we do to deserve this? Her grip on the photo tightened. Ray Cooper… you took everything from me. My family, my home, my future.
The soft hum of the starship’s engines was the only sound in the room, but to Seridia, it felt deafening against the silence of her thoughts. She leaned back slightly, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears as she stared at the photo. I should have been able to save them. I should have been stronger, faster, smarter…
But deep down, she knew there was no way to fight back against the sheer chaos of Ray’s power. It wasn’t just her family he had destroyed; it was her entire world. The once-thriving cities of her homeland were now ghostly remnants trapped in a state of perpetual flux. The vibrant skies she remembered as a child were now fractured, splintered by temporal rifts that bled light and darkness in equal measure.
She placed the photo gently on the nightstand beside her bed, her fingers lingering on the frame for a moment longer before pulling away. Her heart burned with a quiet, smoldering hatred. It wasn’t loud or fiery, but cold and calculated, like the ticking of a clock counting down to its final hour.
Seridia wiped a single tear from her cheek, her resolve hardening. I couldn’t save my family then, but I can make sure Ray pays for what he’s done. He’s taken enough lives, destroyed enough futures. This ends with me.
The thought brought her a fleeting sense of purpose, but it was fleeting. As she lay back on the bed, staring at the cold, metallic ceiling, the weight of her loss settled over her once more. The fight ahead would be their most dangerous yet, but Seridia welcomed the risk. After all, she had nothing left to lose.
Aelith sat in her quarters aboard the starship, her room dimly illuminated by a soft, pulsating blue light emanating from the ambient strips embedded in the walls. The air was thick with the scent of lavender incense burning gently on a small pedestal by the bed, a futile attempt to soothe the constant ache in her chest. The space itself was an odd mix of luxury and functionality: silk drapes hung loosely over the corners, their vibrant crimson color contrasting sharply against the cold, metallic walls.
A vanity lined with cracked mirrors stood in one corner, its surface cluttered with old photographs, letters, and trinkets. At the center of the room was a circular bed draped in velvet sheets, its design speaking to her penchant for comfort and elegance.
But today, none of the room’s décor could distract her from the storm inside. Aelith held a locket in her hands, the gold chain cold against her skin. Inside was a small, worn photograph of two men, Zephyr, known as Charlie to most, and Ino Namikaze. Zephyr stood tall, his brown hair catching the sunlight, his confident smile seeming to radiate warmth.
Beside him, Ino’s stern expression was softened by the faintest hint of a smirk, his eyes reflecting the wisdom and kindness that had drawn her to him in the first place.
Her chest tightened as she stared at their faces, memories crashing over her like waves. Charlie had been her everything, her anchor in a chaotic world, the one person who saw her not just as the Velvet Siren, but as Aelith. His strength, his selflessness, his ability to bring light into the darkest of situations… all of it had captivated her.
She had loved him deeply, even though he hadn’t returned her feelings in the same way. But that didn’t matter. His presence had given her hope, a reason to believe that she could be more than the monster others painted her to be.
And Ino… Ino had been her mentor, her guiding star. He was the first person to truly see her potential, to push her beyond her limits without judgment. His wisdom had grounded her, and his belief in her had given her the courage to face her own insecurities. He had taught her to harness her powers, not as a weapon to manipulate others, but as a tool to protect and connect.
But both of them were gone now. Ray had taken them from her.
Her fingers tightened around the locket as a tear slipped down her cheek. Her mind replayed the moment she’d watched Zephyr fall, his body crumpling to the ground in a lifeless heap during his battle with Ray.
She could still hear the screaming, screaming of the academy’s children ringing in her ears as if it were yesterday. And Ino… he had fought valiantly, using every ounce of his power to try and stop Ray’s rampage, only to be struck down without mercy.
They didn’t deserve that. They didn’t deserve to die like that, she thought bitterly, her heart aching with a mix of grief and rage. And for what? For his sick, twisted games?
Aelith stood abruptly, pacing the length of her room as her emotions boiled over. Her bare feet made soft thuds against the cold floor as she clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms.
He ruins everything he touches. Everyone he touches. Charlie, Ino, Nova… She paused, her breath hitching. He even destroyed Horizon Heights, the city that gave so many of us hope. How could one person be so reckless, so cruel?
Her gaze shifted to a small music box on the vanity. It had been a gift from Charlie, its delicate carvings depicting constellations and stars. She wound it slowly, the haunting melody filling the room as she sank back onto the edge of her bed.
He’s a monster, she thought, her jaw tightening. But monsters can be slain. And I swear, my friends… I’ll make sure he pays for what he’s done to all of us.
Aelith closed her eyes, the melody of the music box mixing with the memories of laughter and warmth that felt so far away now. As the music faded, she opened her eyes, her resolve burning brighter than ever.
Ray had taken everything she held dear. She would see to it that he didn’t get the chance to do that to anyone ever again.
Aurelius sat alone in the center of his quarters, the room bathed in a soft, golden light that reflected off every surface. His chamber was an opulent display of wealth: gilded walls adorned with intricate carvings of his once-great kingdom, a massive chandelier crafted from diamond and gold, and furniture upholstered with the finest silks. The air smelled faintly of polish and metal, a constant reminder of his obsession with perfection.
But amidst all the luxury, the room’s centerpiece was the most striking, two life-sized golden statues. One depicted a boy of no more than ten, frozen mid-laugh as if he were playing a game only moments ago. The other was a woman, regal and poised, her features soft yet commanding, her arms reaching out as if to comfort.
But These statues weren’t mere ornaments; they were his son and wife, petrified in gold by the same power that had once brought him glory.
Aurelius knelt before them, his large hands trembling as they hovered over his son’s face. The smooth, cold surface of the golden visage offered no comfort, no warmth. His throat tightened as he tried to speak, but the words caught, his grief choking him like a noose.
How did it come to this? His mind drifted back to happier times, the laughter that used to fill the halls of his castle, the way his son would tug at his robes, begging to see the golden constructs Aurelius could create with a wave of his hand. His wife’s gentle smile as she watched them, her voice always soft but firm, grounding him when his ambitions began to cloud his judgment.
They had been his world. He clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging into his palms until they nearly drew blood. And I destroyed it all.
Aurelius bowed his head, his voice a low, broken whisper. “I’m sorry,” he said, his words cracking under the weight of his guilt. “I failed you both. As a father, as a husband… I let my greed consume me.”
He looked up at the statues, his vision blurring with unshed tears. “I thought I could give you everything, riches, power, a kingdom that would never fall. But none of that mattered, did it? You didn’t care about the gold or the crown. You only wanted me. And I… I was too blind to see it.”
The memories played cruelly in his mind, the day Ray’s catastrophic surge of cosmic energy had torn through his empire. The golden army Aurelius had summoned to protect his people had melted into slag. His riches had turned to ash in an instant. But worst of all, the uncontrolled surge had triggered Aurelius’s own transmutation abilities, turning his family into lifeless statues before his eyes.
He hadn’t even been able to hold them, to say goodbye. All he had left were these frozen effigies, eternal reminders of his failure.
“It should’ve been me,” he muttered, his voice shaking. “If I’d been stronger, if I’d been wiser, maybe I could’ve stopped him. Maybe I could’ve saved you.”
Aurelius pushed himself to his feet, his massive frame looming over the statues. He ran a hand through his hair, his expression hardening as his grief gave way to fury.
“And that… that bastard,” he growled, his voice venomous. “He took you from me. He destroyed everything I built, everything I loved. For what? A whim? A display of power?!”
His hands clenched Into fists, golden sparks crackling around his knuckles. The weight of his anger pressed down on him like an unbearable burden, but beneath it was a hollowness, a void that could never be filled.
“Ray Cooper,” he spat the name like a curse. “You think you’re untouchable, don’t you? That you can take and destroy without consequence. But you’re wrong.”
Aurelius turned to face the statues again, his voice softening, his tone filled with a desperate resolve. “I swear to you, my loves, I will make him pay. I will make him suffer for what he’s done to us.”
He reached out, brushing his fingers against the golden cheek of his wife’s statue. For a moment, his voice broke. “I’m so sorry… I couldn’t protect you. But I will avenge you. No matter what it takes.”
As he stepped back, the light from the chandelier cast long shadows across the room, making the statues seem almost alive in their stillness. Aurelius took a deep breath, his jaw set, his resolve unshakable.
He had lost his kingdom, his riches, his family. But he still had his vengeance. And he would see it through to the bitter end.
Elara sat on her bed, her body tense but still, within the confines of her dimly lit quarters aboard the starship. The room, a simple yet functional space, was sparsely decorated, save for a few mementos scattered about, a reminder of her past life. A holographic image of her and Nova’s smiling faces as they sat together in a restaurant booth flickered softly from the corner of the room, casting a warm, nostalgic glow.
Elara’s gaze lingered on it for a moment before her eyes fell to the small, hand-carved wooden box resting in her lap. Her fingers brushed gently over the smooth surface of the gift Nova had given her, one of the few things she still held onto from that time before everything fell apart. It was a simple box, with delicate etchings of stars and constellations on its lid, a reflection of Nova’s radiant personality, and the power she wielded.
It had been Nova’s way of telling Elara she’d always be with her, no matter the distance, no matter the storms ahead. But now, that gift felt like a cruel reminder of the absence she now felt so deeply.
She closed her eyes, allowing herself a few moments to breathe, though the weight in her chest wouldn’t lighten. Memories of Nova, their laughter, the late-night conversations, the adventures they shared, flashed before her eyes, vivid and painfully real. She could almost hear Nova’s voice, her optimism, her sense of adventure. But those memories were slipping away, fading like stardust in the wind.
Her thoughts shifted to Lucio, the friend who had always stood by her side, the one who’d been there to laugh, to support, and to fight alongside her. His lightheartedness, the way he made everything seem possible even in the darkest times, and how fiercely he protected the people of Horizon Heights, it all felt like a dream now. The fact that Ray had taken him from her, taken him from the world, felt like a punch to her very soul.
The hollow ache of loss was suffocating. Elara hated Ray. She hated him more than words could express. The anger that bubbled within her was fueled not just by the death of her friends, but by the way he had extinguished their light, their hope, their future.
He had taken Nova’s brilliance from the world, leaving only silence in her wake. He had stolen Lucio’s energy, his warmth, his future, leaving nothing but a hollow void.
Ray’s reckless violence had torn apart the lives of so many. But for Elara, it was personal. He had taken what was hers, her friends, her family, her sense of peace. And now, she was left to pick up the pieces of a life that was no longer whole.
With a choked breath, she set the box down, her fingers trembling. She stood and walked to the small window of her room, staring out into the cold, distant expanse of space. The stars outside seemed far away, indifferent to her pain.
Her thoughts darkened with the memory of Ray’s face, completely indifferent, when he had killed Lucio, when he had shattered what little semblance of normalcy she had left.
The anger surged once more, sharper this time, and Elara’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. Ray might have taken everything from her, but he hadn’t taken her will to fight back. She would make him pay. She would make sure that no one else would suffer the way she had. Ray had made a mistake. And Elara wasn’t going to let him get away with it.
Her voice was a whisper to the emptiness of the room, but the conviction was there, stronger than ever. “I’ll make you regret this, Ray. I swear it.”
Erydon sat alone in his quarters, the only sound the quiet rustling of ancient tomes and the soft flicker of candlelight. The room was a sanctuary of wisdom, filled with towering bookshelves laden with arcane texts, scrolls, and centuries-old spell books. At the center of the room stood a massive oak desk, its surface cluttered with various artifacts, enchanted objects, and half-finished incantations. The walls were adorned with tapestries depicting the history of his kingdom, scenes of prosperity, of peace. Erydon’s eyes scanned the shelves, but his mind was far from the books before him.
His thoughts drifted back to the time when Ray had first entered his kingdom. Erydon had found him then, a young boy with immense, untapped potential. Ray had come to him, seeking guidance, his cosmic powers raw and unrefined.
Erydon had seen the promise in him, the possibility of a force for good, someone who could reshape the world for the better. He had taken Ray in, believing that with discipline, mentorship, and patience, Ray could be the hero he once was, a protector of life, a beacon of hope.
But that hope, that trust, had been shattered. The King’s mind wandered further back, to the time before Ray’s descent into chaos. Erydon remembered hearing stories of Ray’s heroism, of the countless lives he saved, of his unwavering commitment to justice.
Ray was once a symbol of hope, a shining star amidst worlds of turmoil. But now, looking at the ruins of his kingdom, the remnants of a once-thriving civilization, Erydon couldn’t help but feel betrayed. The kingdom he had built, the people he had sworn to protect, were no more. Destroyed by Ray’s reckless surge of cosmic power.
Erydon could still see the burning skies, the collapsing spires, the screams of the innocent as Ray’s power tore through the very fabric of their world. He had failed them. As a ruler, as a mentor, he had failed to protect his people. The memories of those lost, his subjects, his friends, his family, haunted him, their faces forever imprinted in his mind.
Erydon stood up from his desk and walked to the window. The stars outside glimmered in the void, distant and indifferent. The same stars that had once symbolized hope now seemed cold and cruel. His hand tightened into a fist, his knuckles turning white as he gazed at the heavens.
What went wrong with Ray? The question gnawed at him endlessly. What had caused the young hero to fall so far from grace? Erydon had watched Ray’s transformation from the hopeful figure he once was to the destructive force he had become. But there were still pieces missing. Had Ray’s power simply consumed him, or was there something deeper, something Erydon could not see? Something that made Ray feel justified in his destruction?
The King’s eyes hardened as he thought about Ray’s lack of remorse. The boy had killed without hesitation, without compassion. Lives were shattered, cities razed, and dreams extinguished in an instant. Erydon had offered Ray a chance at redemption, had tried to guide him back to the path of righteousness. But Ray had rejected that offer, choosing instead to embrace his dark fate.
The weight of his failure pressed down on Erydon’s chest. He had allowed Ray to stay in his kingdom, had trusted him with the safety of his people, and In return, Ray had destroyed everything Erydon had ever worked for. He had taken Ray in to rehabilitate him, to teach him that great power came with even greater responsibility, and yet Ray had turned that power into a weapon of devastation.
I should have seen it sooner. Erydon thought bitterly. I should have stopped him before it was too late.
Now, all that remained of his kingdom was a wasteland, a graveyard of broken dreams and lost lives. And in that desolation, Erydon’s hatred for Ray had grown like a fire that could not be extinguished. The boy he had once believed in, the boy he had hoped would lead the way to a brighter future, had become the very thing he had sworn to destroy.
Erydon’s mind flashed back to the destruction of his kingdom: the flickering of magic, the shifting of time, the collapse of walls. The people he had sworn to protect had been reduced to nothing. And there, amidst the devastation, Ray had stood, his indifferent eye’s glowing with the violet cosmic hue’s, his black gloves dripping with the blood of the innocent. Erydon had failed to stop it, and now all he could do was seek vengeance.
I will kill him, Erydon thought coldly, his gaze fixed on the stars beyond. Ray Cooper will pay for what he has done. He will pay for every life he has destroyed. For every moment I failed to protect them.
But the guilt, the endless guilt, clawed at Erydon’s soul. He had failed as a ruler, as a mentor, and as a protector. Now, he was left with only one path, one final chance to rid the multiverse of Ray Cooper’s existence, to make sure that no one else would have to suffer the way his people had. But even as he thought of revenge, a part of him still mourned the Ray that could have been.