It was the same in every city. Every town. Every little village and hamlet.

Soon, He began to appear on different worlds. In different realities.

A man stood in the plaza before the Palace of Dreams, ignoring the guards' furious shouts and the soldier's drawn bows. His lips curved upwards like scythes, basking in the pitter-patter of gentle rain.

In Elden, He appeared in the Queen's Grand Hall, startling the elders.

In the Frozen Wastes of a Desolate World, He rested in frozen chunks of shattered ice.

Floating among the cosmos as something, blinked.

On Earth, He ran his fingers along an old doorframe.

On a battlefield, quietly, save the sound of heaven's tears, Reiss plopped down into sulking mud.

Reiss was dying once more. This iteration, too, was a failure. Now it was time to try something new.

The Final Iteration.

Across Aurelia, in the other worlds, and even in the vacuum of space, his voice was heard.

"...I failed."

They echoed.

The ones who would have comforted him were all dead. Pieces strewed here or there. Krom was pinned to a castle tower by a ballista bolt, barely recognizable from the curse Reiss burdened him with. All the while Vultures picked at Lizzy's scorched bones. The few others stupid enough to stand with him were spread across the battlefield like plucked petals.

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

A woman, his most beloved, lay in his arms.

Reiss moaned as he stroked her frigid skin. Even staring at her, he was forgetting who she was.

Gently, lovingly, he laid the corpse of a stranger onto the earth.

Putting a hand on his knee to steady himself, he slipped in sloppy viscera and mangled debris. Thrice, he tried righting himself. In the end, he was unable, falling on his back to leave his imprint on the malleable surface.

Breathing in and out, he decided this was how he would go as a black, inescapable light pierced the sky.

The palace guards attacked as one only to be rebounded into the stonework.

The Eldens shuddered and prostrated at the intensity of such magic.

On a Desolate World, Twin Suns turned their attention to the intrusive light.

Floating among the stars, the horror adjusted its gaze.

Across the world, inky lights flew into the sky and radiated outward like ripples, rewinding time.

Each apparition spoke as if they were a separate person

"I have failed."

"I have warred."

"I have loved."

"I have sued for peace."

"I have run away."

"I have fought to the bitter end."

"And yet still...."

Each Reiss spoke. The seemingly endless iterations.

"This is my last life."

The real Reiss spoke, his words echoing through his copies.

"After this, I'm going to retire."

Rain turned to hail, pelting his flesh. He chuckled to himself.

Death was a familiar mistress.