Oceans of blood coated the ground of an indomitable fortress at the heart of existence, seeping into every minuscule crack in the tiles, staining the earth a permanent shade of deep crimson. Ripples spread throughout the abyss of dark red, at first with so little force they were barely noticeable, but as time crept forward the ripples became frequent waves before transforming into tsunamis of ichor. The droplets of vile fluid were flung away with each impact of one unmatched power against another, two beings confronting one another at the centre of everything.

A shining man made of blinding light, his brilliant silhouette scattered across every solid surface of the expanse, raised his hand and outstretched a long, hooked finger. The man's opposition, a creature of ever-changing colour and form, simultaneously as large as a mountain and as small as an ant, as knowable as an enigma and as mysterious as common sense, shrank away. The creature bore its shifting maw of endless crooked teeth as it slunk away from the man's hand, shrieking with such intensity it could vaporise stars. Sparks of light began to swell within the man's palm before travelling towards the tip of his finger, gathering at a single glorious point before exploding with indescribable force. A scorching ray of brilliance shot out towards the creature, vaporising its entire left side, causing it to cry out once more before its form became more concrete.

Its fractal limbs regressed into themselves, its changing shape now set in the form of a thin, lanky man with charcoal hair and paper-white skin, an abyss swirling in his eye sockets. His left side remained absent, but his right featured six long arms with three prominent joints jutting out between the torso and hand, all clutching at his missing half. He stared up at the brilliant man, encroaching on his position in a manner that seemed beyond confident and instead, unbothered. The injured man looked up after a few long moments had passed to see that he was now at the feet of the brilliant man, who was looking down at him without so much as a hint of emotion.

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Eventually, the injured man spoke. "Is that it, then? All this, just for it to end here? We didn't even get to the good bit yet and you're trying to bring it to an end. I thought you, of all people, would understand that you can't stop it. Hell, it's etched into existence itself—even I know better than to challenge fate like that."

"Silence, Delaney," the brilliant man spoke. "Even if fate cannot be changed, there is naught to say pushing it back is impossible. So I shall push it back. As far as possible, as many times as possible, until there is nothing else to be done. I never wanted this. For either of us." A solemn expression flickered over the man's face for a fraction of a second before it returned to its regular unbothered demeanour. "I hope you can forgive me. I'm only doing what needs to be done."

Delaney looked at the man once more, a wealth of emotions congealing in the blood pouring from his open wounds. Delaney flashed a conflicted, bitter smile as the man placed his finger against his forehead. "I won't ever forgive you," Delaney muttered, and a light began to fill his mind, searing his thoughts and tearing each of his atoms violently apart in a quick and painful manner as his body was disintegrated into nothingness, until not a single speck remained...

Jackson darted awake in a cold sweat, his eyes hastily and somewhat clumsily darting towards the clock sitting on his bedside table. It was a little past 3am. Jackson groaned. Great, he thought to himself, the one night I needed a decent rest and I have a dream like that. He groggily turned over in his sheets, cocooning himself in their soft embrace before trying to drift off again. But something felt off. Something was different, as if Jackson himself was a forge that had, for the first time, been ignited, with the embers of a fire beginning to swell inside him...