Dreambreaker

Chapter 2: Death Chaos and Dreams

Noxious stench of the dead— blood, bile juice, decaying flesh, fatty residue and methane—result of organ lacerations and merciless chopping. It was the kind of scent which would make you puke and invite the vultures for a feast.

The otherwise silent battlefield was now painted in crimson red. As if the sand beneath was holy sindoor and rocks and pebbles were unrefined treasures of ruby and red beryl.

In this place stood a lone figure, surrounded by the lifeless bodies of both humans and demons, as if he was the undertaker.

The once teeming arena was now, transformed into the final resting ground for the dead. Result of daring to challenge someone who had nothing left to lose. Strangely enough, the other side of the coin was missing too—there was nothing he could gain. It felt empty, pointless even, as if there was no meaning to it at all.

The beautiful blue sky, which otherwise served as the canvas of hope, was now painted inky black. The rays of hope blocked by the grey clouds.

In the man's hand, the shattered remnants of a—what appeared to be a machete—the reminder of the fierce struggle that had just ended.

His lifeless grey eyes glanced towards the sky. Those eyes were empty, exhausted even. An exhaustion—not of the body, but of the soul.

There was also a very faint sign of sadness and longingness in those eyes. Longingness so intense, yet somehow delicate at the same time. The kind that gnaws at the insides. Makes your stomach twist, makes you feel hollow and alone, a begging longingness.

It was the longingness for something he can never have. It was too late...

"If a God exists, then he cannot change his actions to liking of individuals. His actions work for the entire universe equally," the man exhaled a quote.

Despite the sorrowful words that escaped him, a resigned semblance of a smile lingered on his beautiful countenance.

Having fought with unyielding force and unbending spirit, he narrowed his entire self towards the conflict.

He was the final survivor; his strength and fortitude worn beyond the point of no return.

In the distance, an army of horrifying beasts, demons and draconic monstrosities painted the canvas of the otherwise dead horizon.

Amidst it all, in the sky, the bleak darkness was pierced by a radiant light that illuminated every inch of the battlefield.

As the man gazed heavenward, a beautiful scene invaded his eyes—countless angels with glimmering swords, the extraordinary sight evoking parallels from the book of Revelation.

They soared towards him with breathtaking speed and otherworldly grace.

Truly, the heavenly host had arrived, they glode at him with aether charged swords, riding countless pegasi.

They were charging to deliver a verdict—not to serve as a beacon of hope, but rather with the aims of executing righteous punishment upon the man before them.

With a final surge of energy, he brought his machete to bear, and launched himself towards the nearly endless army.

In an extraordinary display of power, the very fabric of his physical form dissolved into nothingness mid-flight, only to reconstruct itself once amidst the ranks of the enemy army, as if time and space were nothing but mere trifle that he could bend to his will.

In mid-air, he spun his body in a perfect motion, engaging in a mesmerizing dance of blades, hacking and slashing with frenzied precision.

In an instant, he brought death to twenty SS ranked beasts, whose existence was thought to be immune to death.

As an added flourish, a dazzling arc of viridiscent plasma was launched from his machete, reducing everything in its path, by half-mile radius.

A masterstroke of transcendent magnitude, exerted by a warrior whose power defined even his last breath.

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It was all over.

The war had taken its toll, and now there was no more fight left in him.

As he lay there, he tried to make some sense of it all, but the darkness was taking over, and even his thoughts were fading away.

In his final moment, the man thought about his fate.

He defied death all his life, and for what purpose? He couldn't save his family, nor return to the warmth of his home. His efforts couldn't change the fate of his love, protect his daughter, release his best friend from 'that' curse, or relieve his master of her burdens. Couldn't even help Chaos in her cause. His friends, his people...

In the end, he turned out to be what he always was—a loser.

As the man closed his eyes for good, the battlefield was now silent, as if it were tired of all the death and destruction it had witnessed, wanting to be reborn and start anew, with clean air, open skies...

[Initiating Rev..]

***

????????'?? ??????(?????????? ???? ????????):

????????????????????????????????????!!— The train roared to life with a loud mechanical whirr.

As the train levitated, the view outside descended.

[?????? ?????????????? ????????????????.] The robotic AI informed.

Slowly the the train pulled out of the station and began to pick up speed.

????????!—????????!— Startled by the buzzing, I reached into my pocket.

I glanced at the screen and found a text from my mother.

[Mom (Acacia) : ???????? ???? ???????? ?????? ?????????? ???????? ?????? ??????. ?????? ???????? ???? ????????, ??????????. ?? ???????? ???????????????????? ???????? ??????????????, ?????? ?????? ?????? ?????????? ?? ?????? ???????? ?????????? ???????? ???????? ?????????? ????...? ???? ??????????????!]

'A new life, huh?' Before I even realized, a stupid smile spread across my face.

Slipping the phone back into my pocket, I tilted my head and let it rest against the cool window.

My eyes greedily absorbed the view outside—a beautiful landscape; fields of green and gold stretched out as far as the eye could see.

The scenery was complemented by the otherwise deep orange sky.

It was beautiful. It really was, but at the same time kind of funny to think about, in some ways.

An absurdity-what if an alien sees this view?

If an alien sees this view, they would probably say, it's such a beautiful world. Earth, a beautiful world.

'A beautiful world, what stupid a thought?'

"Huh! Tcht! "—my tongue clicked disapprovingly at the absurdity of such a statement.

This scenery was nothing but a lie.

Beautiful, but a lie.

In reality, this world was far from beautiful.

Year, 2369, just 9 months before my birth, God had abandoned this world.

Strange natural disasters— disasters, without any logical reason, started to absorb this world.

Tsunamis, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions, typhoons, and tornadoes began occurring worldwide. Scientists investigated, but no apparent explanation could be found. As time passed, these disasters became more frequent.

The oxygen levels in the atmosphere rose, and even tiny creatures like cockroaches and ants grew to the size of cars.

Strange areas with no gravity started appearing across the globe. This terrifying threat eventually became known as "The Great Cataclysms."

It all began in the year 2369, when our planet was struck by a mysterious blue beam of light. No one knew what it was. Satellites recorded footage of the beam, which looked eerily like something out of a fantasy novel or manga - those magical energy beams. Sounds unbelievable, right? But that's the best way to describe it.

Living in such a world it's only natural to ask, 'Am I gonna make it out alive?'

The answer was quite obvious —No.

I am basically a dead man at this point —counting my last days.

I tried to push away my worries and focus on the present, but deep down, I couldn't shake the feeling that all of this was just the beginning of something much bigger. Much bigger than all of us.

It felt like the beginning of...the end.

And not just the end of 'this' world.

'Why the hell am I feeling this way?!' I furrowed my brow. This strange feeling started visiting me since that damned dream-...forget it.

I put on my headphones and closed my eyes.

I had a rare blood condition that made my life unceratin and the state of the world just intensified that feeling.

But there was hope, I was on my way to meet my grandfather, a scientist who was working on something that could change everything.

He has always been working on bemusing projects.

Embraced by the soft cushion of train seat, drawsiness soon began to envelop my consciusness.

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***

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I found myself in my father's office building, alone. I didn't know who my father was or what this building was, but I knew that this was my father's office building.

The scene infront of me played out like a recorded tape and it was natural.

Everything I saw was vaguely vivid.

The building was usually spacious and clean, but this time, it was all abandoned and rusted. Falling apart.

I could even see through some of the ceiling at times.

I decided, for whatever reason, to walk into one of the rooms. One of the computer rooms more specifically.

Everything was destroyed, the ceiling was almost non existent, some of the computers were on the ground destroyed, others rusty or in their place but broken.

I stood still in the room in awe of the place I frequently visited that was now destroyed.

...??? I think, I heard something?

Suddenly, 'something' grabbed me by the arm and threw me against the wall of the room.

When my gaze refocused, I was finally able to see it. Yes, 'it'.

'It' was tall, skinny, and purest shade of midnight black. Its eyes were undyed, white. It's hands were unusually long. It's nails were white and sharp like daggers.

I was petrified, fossilized and my legs felt lapidified.

'What is this thing?!' The thought crossed my mind. Probably wasn't the brightest thought, but given the circumstances, that was the only thought.

I had no time to think, as it violently threw me to the ground.

I couldn't get up for some reason.

While I was still down, it took it's long sharp nail, and forcefully pushed it into my stomach. It stabbed me.

????????!— ????????!

***

????????!— ????????!

"Hunkh!" I muffled an exhale as awareness returned.

My consciousness slowly readjusted itself only to realise that it was only a dream.

The sound of my smartphone woke me up.

????????????!—????????????!—My heart was beating in my chest like a smith's hammer.

Slowly my heart's pace calmed down.

I slowly reached for my phone inside my pocket and felt something wet and cold in my back.

I was sweating.

"It's been four times in a row since I have been having the same dream. The hell?"

Forget it.

I unlocked my phone. A notification from pencord server of my novel caught my attention.

Skeeming through the comments section one stood out to me.

"TheyAsuke" commented- "I was expecting something fresh but this is just the same old story, I will have to drop it."

As an author I was used to critical reviews but it never got any easier.

????????~

I checked my sonata

──────────────

Year→ 2393

Time→ 10:15 A.m

Date Nov.3

──────────────

--????????!—[?????????????????????? ?????? ??????????????.] The robotic voice announced.

I stood up from my sit.

"Right," I took out my phone and texted my mother.

["?? ???????? ??????????????."]

"Huff!" taking a deep breath, I cleared my mind of all the unrequired thoughts. "Lets get this over with"

*????????* [???????????????????? ???????????? ?????? ??????????????????, ?????? ?????????? ?????? ?????????????? ???????? ??] The robotic AI reannounced.

***