The world awoke to a sunrise that bled. Where golden rays should have kissed the earth, a sickly crimson stained the horizon, as though the sky itself wept for the horrors below. David, battered and bruised from a day that had clawed at his soul, stood upon a jagged cliff, his silhouette a frail monument against the dawn. The air was thick with the stench of ash and iron, a grotesque perfume that clung to the ruins of a world undone. Below him, fields that once bloomed with vibrant life now drowned in rivers of blood, their currents snaking through the wreckage of a civilization reduced to cinders. This was no ordinary sunrise. This was the birth of despair.
The flowers, those delicate heralds of morning, were grotesque in their beauty. Petals that should have unfurled in hues of lavender and gold were drenched in scarlet, their stems bowing under the weight of blood that dripped like wax from a dying candle. Each blossom seemed to scream, a silent chorus of anguish that echoed the carnage strewn across the landscape. Bodies littered the earth—men, women, children—none spared by the unseen hand that had painted this apocalypse. Their lifeless forms were tangled in unnatural poses, as though death had caught them mid-flight, mid-prayer, mid-hope. The original timeline was dead. Its heartbeat silenced, its people erased.
David's gaze drifted to a figure in the distance, a lone survivor amidst the sea of ruin. Ruby, her crimson hair a cruel mirror to the blood-soaked dawn, lay crumpled on the ground. Her mask, once a symbol of defiance, was cracked, revealing a face pale as bone. One arm was severed, the stump oozing dark rivulets that pooled beneath her unconscious form. Her remaining hand clutched at nothing, fingers twitching as if reaching for a salvation that no longer existed. Beside her, the bodies of Alice and Casca lay still, their eyes wide with the terror of their final moments. Leon, the arch mage whose wisdom had once rivaled the stars, was a gruesome tableau—his head severed, his staff broken, his legacy extinguished.
The world flickered, and a darkness deeper than night swallowed David. He found himself in a pitch-black domain, a void where time and hope were forbidden. His body was a canvas of torment, pierced by a hundred swords that pinned him to the ground like a martyr of a forgotten god. Each blade burned with a malevolent pulse, their steel whispering curses as blood seeped from his wounds, staining the unseen floor. Immortal, unyielding, David knelt in defiance, his consciousness a flickering flame against the gale of despair. He was not meant to die easily. But even immortality could not shield him from the weight of loss.
The air shimmered, and a figure emerged from the shadows. Another David, cloaked in a black mask with eyes that glowed like twin embers, stood over him. His voice was a blade, sharp and mocking. "What a chaos, isn't it, Original Timeline David? If you'd surrendered the powers we demanded, none of this would've happened." A chorus of laughter erupted, a cacophony of countless Davids—each a twisted reflection from a fractured timeline—surrounding their progenitor. Their voices wove a tapestry of malice, each syllable a needle in David's soul. "You could've saved them," they taunted. "Alice. Casca. Leon. Ruby. All of them."
David's heart clenched at the mention of Ruby. In a final act of defiance, he had hidden her in his secret domain, a sanctuary woven from the last threads of his power. With a surge of will, he sealed himself and his abilities, a desperate gambit to protect her from the vultures circling his corpse. The other Davids recoiled, their laughter twisting into snarls of rage. "He's sealed himself!" one spat, his voice dripping with venom. "We need to undo it—now!"
The masked David raised a hand, silencing the horde. "Enough," he said, his tone cold as a grave. "I created this army of Davids. I'll take responsibility for breaking his seal. And I'll deliver every Ruby to each of you—your own worlds, your own prizes." His words were honey laced with poison, a promise that reeked of deceit. The glowing eyes of his mask flickered, betraying the lie he spun. One by one, the other Davids vanished through a portal, their hunger for power blinding them to his treachery.
Time bled away in the void, an eternity compressed into moments. Then, a new portal tore open the darkness, and a figure stepped through. His hair was gold as molten sunlight, a stark contrast to the gloom. David, still impaled, coughed blood, his voice a ragged whisper. "You're late," he rasped, a bitter laugh breaking through his pain. "They've all left. I sealed my powers."
The golden-haired David knelt beside him, his expression unreadable. "I'm not here to kill you or steal your power," he said softly. "I'm here to repay a debt." His words hung heavy, a lifeline in the abyss. "You destroyed my world, sealed me away. But then you made it right. You unsealed me, rebuilt what was lost. You showed me I don't need the Creator's powers to live. My timeline is real now, not a shadow of yours. I'm grateful."
David's mind reeled, confusion warring with agony. The golden-haired David began removing the swords, each one pulled free with a sickening squelch. Blood poured anew, but the act was gentle, almost reverent. "Come with me," he said, lifting David's broken form. "My world is safe. You'll heal there."
In David's secret domain, Ruby awoke to a nightmare. The void around her pulsed with memories—flashes of blood, fire, and the screams of a world unmade. She saw her master, Original Timeline David, kneeling in torment, swords piercing his flesh. She saw the ruins of their home, the bodies of their allies, the flowers drowning in crimson. Tears streamed down her face, her small frame shaking as the weight of loss crushed her. She was only fifteen, yet the universe had branded her with grief.
A light flared, sharp and blinding. Ruby froze, her breath hitching as a portal yawned open. A figure emerged, cloaked in black, their face obscured by shadow. "Hello, Ruby," they said, their voice a low hum that vibrated in her bones.
She scrambled back, her voice trembling. "Who are you? Are you here to kill me?"
The figure tilted their head, a faint chuckle escaping them. "Kill you? No. I'm a friend of your master. He asked me to protect you."
Ruby's eyes narrowed, her grief sharpening into resolve. "What were his final words?"
The figure stepped closer, their presence both comforting and unsettling. "Your master isn't dead, Ruby. He's alive, and he's safe. But you've seen what he was protecting you from—those other Davids, the ones who tore your world apart. He fought for you. Now, you need to fight for him."
Her tears stopped, replaced by a spark of determination. "How?" she demanded, her voice cracking but fierce. "How do I become strong enough to protect him?"
The figure's cloak shifted, revealing a glimpse of eyes that gleamed like polished obsidian. "I see it in you," they said. "The fire of a soul unbroken. You're young, but you're not weak. Follow me, and I'll forge you into something greater than those who destroyed your world."
A light pulsed in Ruby's chest, her resolve crystallizing. She nodded, stepping toward the portal. The figure extended a hand, and together, they vanished into the unknown.
The golden-haired David led his wounded counterpart through a new world, one that shimmered with life. Lush forests stretched toward a sky unmarred by blood, their leaves whispering secrets of peace. Villages bustled with laughter, their streets free of the ash that choked David's memories. Yet, as they walked, David's mind churned. He had destroyed this world. He remembered the flames, the screams, the seal he'd placed on its master. How could it stand so vibrant now?
They reached a house perched on a hill, its walls warm with the glow of hearthlight. The golden-haired David guided him to a room, simple but comforting, with a bed draped in soft linens. "Rest here," he said. "Recover. Become strong again—for Ruby."
David's voice was hoarse, his eyes searching, clawing through the fog of pain for an anchor. "Ruby… is she safe?"
A sudden flash tore through the golden-haired David's mind—a memory not his own, sharp and cold as a blade. The cloaked figure, their voice a venomous whisper, loomed in his vision. "Tell the Original David that Ruby is dead. I managed to save only you. Don't ask why. Do as I say. Understood?" The golden-haired David's heart lurched, the lie bitter on his tongue, but the figure's command was iron, unbreakable.
He met David's gaze, his face a mask of forced calm. "She's… gone," he said, the words ash in his mouth. "They took her, David. I couldn't save her. I barely saved you."
The air in the room thickened, heavy with a silence that screamed. David's eyes widened, then darkened, a storm of grief and rage brewing in their depths. His battered body trembled, not from pain but from a fury that burned hotter than the swords that had pierced him. Ruby—his Ruby, the child he'd sworn to protect, the last flicker of light in his shattered world—was gone. The lie, unbeknownst to him, sank its claws into his soul, twisting his sorrow into something jagged, something alive.
"No," he rasped, his voice a low growl that seemed to shake the walls. "No. They don't get to take her. They don't get to win." His hands clenched into fists, nails biting into his palms until blood dripped onto the linens. The golden-haired David stepped back, unnerved by the raw, primal force radiating from the broken man before him.
David's mind churned, a maelstrom of memories—Ruby's crimson hair catching the sunlight, her defiant laughter, the way she'd clung to him when the world began to burn. She was his purpose, his redemption, and now she was ash in a universe that mocked his immortality. But he was not powerless. Not yet. His powers, sealed deep within the fortress of his will, pulsed faintly, a heartbeat of potential buried beneath his despair. He had locked them away to protect her, but now they would be his weapon.
"I sealed my power," he said, his voice steadying, each word carved from stone. "To keep her safe. But if she's gone… then there's nothing left to protect." His eyes, once dulled by pain, now burned with a cold, unrelenting fire. "I'll unseal it. Every ounce of it. And when I do, I'll tear their worlds apart. Every David, every timeline, every wretched soul who dared touch her—they'll burn."
The golden-haired David swallowed, the weight of the lie pressing against his chest. "David, you're barely alive. If you try to unseal your power now, it could—"
"Kill me?" David laughed, a hollow, bitter sound that echoed like a curse. "Let it try. Death would be kinder than this." He leaned forward, his gaze piercing, unyielding. "I'll rest. I'll heal. I'll claw my way back from this abyss. And when I'm whole, I'll unseal what I locked away. The power that created them, the power they crave—it's mine. And I'll use it to end them."
The room seemed to darken, the hearthlight dimming as if cowed by David's resolve. The golden-haired David felt a chill, not from the air but from the man before him, a man no longer broken but forged anew in the crucible of loss. This was not the David who had rebuilt his world, not the David who had offered redemption. This was a god of vengeance, his heart a furnace of grief and wrath.
"How long?" David demanded, his voice low, dangerous. "How long will it take to unseal it?"
The golden-haired David hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Weeks. Maybe months. Your body's weak, and the seal is strong. You designed it to be unbreakable, even by you. It'll take time to unravel it without destroying yourself."
"Then I'll wait," David said, his tone final, a vow etched in blood. "I'll endure. I'll grow strong again. And when the seal breaks, I'll wage a war that makes their apocalypse look like a mercy." He sank back onto the bed, but there was no surrender in his posture—only a predator biding its time, sharpening its claws in the dark.
The golden-haired David nodded, his heart heavy with the lie he'd been forced to wield. "Rest, then. Recover. I'll keep this world safe for you… for now." He turned to leave, but David's voice stopped him at the door.
"They'll pay," David whispered, his words a promise to the void. "For Ruby. For everything. I'll carve her name into their bones."
The door closed, and David lay still, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm of a man who had nothing left to lose. In his mind, Ruby's face lingered, her eyes bright with the fire he'd failed to protect. But that fire lived in him now, a flame that would not gutter, would not die. He would unseal his power, no matter the cost. He would become the storm that drowned the crimson dawn.
To be continued.