To Iris, Francis of the Rayleigh family had always been the destroyer. Not a destroyer, but the destroyer. It wasn’t a stretch to say that he had the most influence on her life, besides her parents that caused her birth, that was.

She looked around at the devastated world. Fires raged on. Trees turned to ash, then into dust, and into compacted dust underneath dirt. This was the first failure in a long while. With a sigh, she took out her pocket watch, making eye contact with her own face in the process. She cringed at the sight. Though, once she travelled, it would all be healed.

Scars marked their territory on her face, like the craters on the moon. She shook her head, and moved the glass. Even that was cracked. If it got caught in the fighting, perhaps the glass would have been shattered. Still, she cast her eyes on the broken world once again.

Just one last walk. A final stroll to say goodbye to the world. She was, quite possibly, the last human alive to gaze upon the beauty of destruction. And now, with no one left to rule over, the tyranny of Kaiser Francis was over. Soon, she would be gone, too.

The reign of the Kaiser was a tale of cruelty and slight incompetence. He wasn’t exactly unskilled, no he certainly was. But his personality was certainly something. He could be classified as maybe a Rayleigh supremacist if such a term existed.

The first war he declared was something people saw coming long ago. But, what no one foreseen was how he did it. Inciting a holy war, then a civil war, and then a takeover. To be honest, it was amazing.

Iris grabbed a handful of ashes. Whose home was this? She struggled to find an answer within her memory. Even so, she scattered them all over. A small autumn gust blew some of the dust back in her face.

“Hard to imagine that this was all prosperous at a point,” she muttered to herself.

From a purely strategic standpoint, he wasn’t a bad ruler. Tyrannical, sure, but he conquered lands and expanded their borders. As evil as he was, he didn’t lack competence. That was until Iris put a sword through his chest, obviously.

She walked down a very destroyed memory lane. Still, this wasn’t a new sight for her. In the rare instance of failure, a future like this presented itself to her.

She reached into her pocket within her black pants. It was a small, and elongated pipe. Decorated with red paint that greatly resembled a flame. She touched it with her right hand’s middle finger, whilst holding onto it with her left hand. From her fingertips, a small blue flame sparked to life, and set the crushed leaves stuffed inside on fire. She took a deep breath and exhaled a puff of smoke. If her body wasn’t going to go back with her, there really wasn’t anything wrong with having the last smoke of her current life.

Soot covered her blonde hair with a thin layer of black. With the pipe in her mouth, she walked and walked. What else could she do? She made her way back, back to where fate played out.

There it was. In the rubble of the destroyed building. The evening sun reflected off metal. Its glint caught her eye. She grabbed onto the broken bricks and stone with her hands, and shovelled them out of her way. It was easy, given her strength. With a pile of debris beside her, she picked it up. Half coated in blood, and partly destroyed. Her sword still looked as sharp as ever, and it's divine energy responded to her presence with what seemed like a soft purring.

Iris swung the sword around. Ignoring the corpse next to it, the blade was still in top quality. This was what, the 20th version? The number was close enough. Once it reached 10 timelines, she gave up on keeping track.

“Alright. Guess that’s that, then.”

She stretched, and her bones popped. She checked everything in sight. No loose ends. Good, good. She opened up her pocket watch again. Divinity reeked from the stopwatch.

“C’mon. I’m sure all of you still have power.”

“Just what little we have left,” an old voice sputtered out.

“I don’t need much. Just like I told you before, just my mind is good enough.”

“Very well. We wish you the best of luck, hero.”

Iris nodded. Her body fell down onto the ground, and collapsed. A cloud of dust formed with a poof when her body dropped.

“We wish you the best of luck. May you succeed in saving another timeline.”

“Thank you.”

A spirit left her body. She stood up on two legs, and watched her dead, lifeless body on the rubble. Iris stepped out from the base of her body. She turned around and the back of her body greeted her.

“Are you ready, hero?” an old man asked.

His eyes were nearly sunken, and wrinkles plentiful. So the gods with no worshippers were reduced to such a state. Even when the gods and goddesses put their power into him, that was all there was? And sending her mind to another timeline’s past would consume everything they had left. Compared to when she first met them in the current timeline, there was a world of difference. Like a forest before and after burning down. Simply put, the gods, or god in this case, was just a shell of his former self.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Yes. I am. Sorry for failing.”

“My child, it is of no issue. The cycle will go on, one way or another. Now go forth, you have another timeline to try again.”

She turned and looked around. The world was a desolate place. Either nature would take over, and regain her hold on the world, or the planet will turn into a wasteland. Regardless, Iris shook her head. A failure was rare. Mostly, she succeeded in eliminating Francis Rayleigh.

With an outstretched hand, she reached out for a handshake. Yhanion, the god of time could only chuckle. He even laughed like an old man.

“It was unthinkable for a mortal to even touch a god. But now, with no believers, I’m barely even one. The moment you go, I’ll die.”

“Is that so? I wish you a peaceful death, then. What’s it like? Dying, I mean.”

“The process is different for mortals, so I don’t think this will help you much. But, when we die, or more accurately, when we lose all our believers, we just disappear.”

“Into the void, then?”

“Yes. Emptiness. Gone, essentially.”

“Do you feel pain when you die?”

“No. We don’t. It's just like closing your eyes. But a mortal’s death, by definition, is different. Would you like me to describe it?”

“No, no thank you. Just send me over.”

Yhanion nodded. He took her hand, and shook it. Power surged through her, like she was getting electrocuted. But it only lasted for an instant. Her spiritual body disappeared, and shortly after, Yhanion turned into void. A gust picked up dust in the ruined world.

***

The first thing Iris noticed was the sheer amount of mana present. It coursed around her body. The mana river flowed rapidly, circulating all around and breathed life and energy into her. She had a question, though. This world was completely unlike the previous timelines she had been to. Why? What made this particular timeline like that?

“Hmm. I’ll have to get in contact with the gods first,”Iris said, as her stomach rumbled, “But I guess food’s a higher priority.”

She stood up from her bed. It was strangely nostalgic, in a way. How long had it been since she slept in her childhood bed? Her feet touched the ground, and she raised her eyebrows. The ground seemed further than usual, and her legs were longer.

“Tall, huh?” Iris muttered to herself.

So far, everything looked largely similar. The clean, polished wood. The lamp hanging from a hook in the wall. And the few others living within the dormitories. Iris made her way to the communal bathroom, her feet shuffling along as she yawned. Despite all the travel she did, going to another timeline was still mentally tiring. But the villain won’t wait for a convenient time.

“Good morning Iris,” an older, middle aged lady said.

“Same to you, ma’am.”

“Will you be staying for another week?”

“I don’t know. Depends on how well I do.”

“You’re always welcome back here, Iris.”

“For you to collect more money off of me? I’m leaving.”

“Hahaha! Breakfast costs extra if you’re not staying here!”

“Like I’d ever want to eat your cooking again. Have you heard of seasoning?”

“Salt costs extra Iris!”

The two women laughed, and waved goodbye. Mdm Selum was the owner of a set of dormitories in the Northern part of the capital city within the empire. Mildly successful, she adopted orphans that no one wanted.

Iris grabbed what little possessions she had. A pocket watch, her glasses, a hairbrush, and a small bag of coins. She walked out of the dorms, and stretched. In the morning hours of the day, the aroma of bread and meats wafted down the street.

“Hey there. How much for a sandwich?” Iris stopped and asked a street baker.

“Not much. Just a few copper.”

“Here you go,” she fished out several copper coins and handed it to the merchant.

“Thank you.”

He passed her a rather small sized sandwich wrapped in paper. Iris could feel the softness of the bread through the thin layer of paper. With a careful hand, she slowly unwrapped the hot meal and took a bite. It was surprisingly flavourful, with a right blend of saltiness and savouriness.

“Yum,” she said in between bites.

Iris took refuge in an alleyway. Despite it being the morning, the capital being the capital was crowded. People walked along the streets, commoners and nobles alike. The empire had good infrastructure, that was for certain. She put her leg against the wall in the rather narrow alleyway, and leaned against the other. Effectively, she was blocking the entrance. Hidden in the shadows between buildings, she ate and enjoyed her small meal.

If her memory served her well, Francis Rayleigh should have made quite a reputation for himself. Trash, scumbag, jerk, asshole, those were just a few nicknames she could recall. A gust of wind blew.

“What to do now...” she whispered as she crumpled up the wrapping paper.

Iris left the shelter of the alleyway. A multitude of people walked by. The poor wearing rags, and the nobles wearing strange outfits. In fact... The women wore suits and the men wore dresses. And barely anyone cared. Iris raised an eyebrow. She approached what looked like a bored man. If he had nothing better to do, then he should be able to answer her questions.

“So uh, what’s with the fashion?” she asked.

“Oh? You new here?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Then you don’t know. Recently the mixed blood made his appearance in the royal ball in a dress. And the nobles that attended copied his style, I think.”

“Huh... The mixed blood, is he the youngest son of the Rayleigh family?”

“So you do know him! Yeah, he’s famous ain’t he? And very pretty too.”

That was different from what she was familiar with. Francis Rayleigh, in all the iterations that she knew of, would never put on a dress. And the nobles would have never, ever copy his style. Just how distant was this timeline from the one she knew? How many unknown variables were present? Iris had too many questions to count.

She shoved the wrapping paper into her pocket and walked towards a trash bin. The summer sun was hot, but it wasn’t unbearable. She tossed it in, and turned towards the palace. If the timeline was so different, was Francis Rayleigh still Francis Rayleigh? Or did something worse replace him? Iris gritted her teeth when she realised that. She clenched her fists, and her knuckles went white. The previous timeline was difficult enough. But fate might just have her killed. And no one liked that thought. Even so, she had to save it. To prevent the terror that was the tyrant from being true. It was just another timeline, another past. Nothing a brave hero couldn’t conquer.