The face of humanity contorted in terror before its demise.
He watched, unfazed, as billions of lives came to an end.
Countless blurred visages merged beneath his gaze, their features smudging together, forming something so unrecognisable that he could no longer recall what they had once been.
Yet he would never forget the face of a human.
He would never lament their deaths, nor repent for his actions. Whether he mourned the gasping wails of the mortal men and women who had once filled Earth, their dying children, zombified in their wake, unaware of it all.
Or the old, the ambitious, and the mighty. The rich and the poor, the innocent and the guilty, the strong and the frail.
Be it anything else among the countless lives that had vanished before his eyes.
For he knew, with all his heart, that what he had done was necessary.
The imminent culmination of what humanity had become.
But back then, even he had wept.
All had mourned, not only him, as they dragged their lifeless bodies through ashen ruins, which were said to be the result of yet another perilous war, a secret kept from modern society.
However, he knew all their secrets.
And the truth of mankind.
That these were not individual beings waging war against one another. They were all the same and should be seen as the same.
All but one.
One entity beyond his own understanding.
One singularity, the one who had spoken the deafening words that had once silenced his mind.
"Humans have dulled your seed."
The voice had remained cold as mortals dragged their lifeless bodies through the tattered streets.
"They have tamed you. You have seen it for yourself, yet you still believe they can evolve into something worthy."
The assertive man gestured towards the desolate ruins, a beaming smile upon his face.
"They do not transform after these great hardships. They regress, like the flickering flame stolen by the one they called Prometheus.
They are not emboldened by the suffering of war."
The man lowered his gaze towards the ruins, where the remnants of a fallen monolith lay scattered among the dead.
"How many times must they rebuild what they have destroyed, only to destroy it again... It's as though they are slowly forgetting?"
His baleful eyes had shone brilliantly.
"No matter. They will continue to fall without ever rising... These mortals, they are tempted by the unreachable.
Regaining bliss in their disobedience, invoking the name of God whenever fear seized their souls, as if the mere utterance of the holy could spare them from the presence of hell.
"But God does not care. Nothing does. Tell me, why would anything care? They might as well shout into the void and expect something."
He had laughed as he had scorned the earth below him.
"Their conflict only brings death to innocents. But even this is glorified by those still sane at the top of their little society.
I would have hoped you understood this by now, Oren.
They remain vulgar and hypocritical life forms, that we observe to be entertained.
That will always remain the same, even if they cease to exist."
He had waved a hand towards the dying world without a trace of sorrow.
"They had implored you to believe they deserve this earth. That dominion over other life is beholden to them, that they stand atop the food chain, above the fish in the sea, the birds in the sky, and every living creature that moves upon the ground."
Chuckling wryly, he had spoken.
"We are not them, and they are not us. You and I, on the other hand, are the same. Our kind stands above all life. We are creatures of the holiest nature, possessing wisdom beyond all others."
He had sighed.
"Without us, there is no them. Human life will never rise above our own. They are no different from the dirt we trample beneath our feet.
All of them are incapable of even this minor change. Yet they think otherwise.
"This hubris is the disease of humanity... and the end of this world."
Only now, as he heard each and every word replay in the back of his mind, did acceptance fall over him.
A faint trembling jolted through him, his weak body shivering in reaction.
His fingers and toes twitched ever so slightly.
Face marred with agony, writhing from a lingering hurt, an ache that plagued the deepest and most unreachable parts of his entity.
At last, his two luminous golden eyes opened in torpor, heavy and silent, as he observed the place he had come to.
...
'...How did I get here?'
...
'I'm still alive...?'
...
'I don't belong here...!'
...
The familiar thought that had often recurred throughout his lifetime still perplexed him, confusing him even more than it had as a child and making him ask even more questions in return.
Such as, 'Why...? How? If I did not belong anywhere, then where do I belong?'
The mortals would have simply called them "probing questions."
But he was not a man of conflict, nor one of confrontation, often choosing solace, never fighting battles he could not win.
Whether verbal or physical altercations, he had always considered himself a peacemaker.
'But... is that really true?'
As he searched his memories, he could no longer trust that construct.
He was left uncertain, helplessly clueless, because he knew it was unlikely that he had been a calm and peaceful man.
Either way, it didn't matter anymore.
Because the pain was still there, and it wouldn't fade. A decay that had been there ever since he awoke. He was dying, he could feel it, and that feeling was absolute.
But maybe it was meant to be, inevitable.
His end was nigh, and maybe he was content with it.
He deserved it. Perhaps it was the real ending he had wanted from before his eternal slumber.
But in the end, even though he had wanted endless rest to escape his listless thoughts, he had awoken more tired than ever.
And so, he wished to go back to sleep, to have his solace, to dream dreamless dreams, and forget the nightmares.
To fade away peacefully, and allow the pain to engulf his being.
'...Peace.'
The term was important to him, a state of calm, tranquility which could also mean freedom from conflict, disturbance, or distress.
He remembered that much. 'But why... why do I need peace?! I no longer suffer... I no longer despair.'
He no longer felt anything, and yet he felt so much.
Was it like this for the mortals who roamed his home? Did they feel like this? Did they know this emotion well...?
...In a way, he was similar to them.
He did not remember why he wanted peace, but... even if he gave up on that dream, he had nowhere to return to, and nowhere to belong.
For his home had fallen a long time ago.
'Everyone is gone now... They are no longer.'
He could not help but think, in his mind.
'The humans I once admired now ceased to exist. I will join them soon, now.
It was only righ—'
'AH!!!'
Pain! So much pain...!
It was everywhere. Immediate. Undeniable.
As clear as day, and yet it was finally fading.
Pulsing faintly, like a heartbeat losing its rhythm.
Or was it that he was closer to being erased?
Whatever it was, it seemed to have finally caught up to him, then end was near.
Flashing in his mind, was thoughts of what he could of been, what could of happened, what he could changed.
Like an ember refusing to surrender to the cold, these thoughts and memories filled his mind.
And like a primitive instinct, something terribly feral and cruel shone in his gaze, as though his sanity had almost slipped away.
Even if he was not against the thought of death, he was unable to welcome it with open arms.
And so, in his lack of understanding, he made a gamble and pulled on his anchor.
—
In the next moment, a sudden warmth overwhelmed him.
And then... crimson light.
The fading ceased, and so did the pain, feelings flooding back as he took a breath of fresh air and crashed into an unfamiliar world.