David stood frozen, his breath ragged as he watched the masked man disappear into the darkness. Their conversation still echoed in his mind, a haunting whisper that refused to fade. He lay back down, closing his eyes, but something gnawed at his consciousness. Then, darkness.
He awoke in a pitch-black expanse, the ground beneath him submerged in shallow water. Each step sent ripples through the eerie silence, the sound of water disturbed by his movements the only indication of life. Ahead, a figure emerged—an adult woman with cascading red hair, as vivid as ruby. Her face was twisted with sorrow, her grip firm on the hilt of a blade.
Without warning, she plunged the sword into his chest. Pain seared through him, but David barely reacted. "Oh, my dear student... Ruby... I never wanted this for you," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret. Tears streamed down her face as she twisted the blade. The world around them shifted—fire consumed everything, bodies of men, women, children, and animals lay scattered in heaps of smoldering ash. The sky wept embers, casting an ominous glow over the apocalyptic ruin.
From a distance, David saw Ruby pick up a knife, her sorrow-drenched eyes locked onto him. Panic gripped his throat as he lunged forward. "No! Ruby, don't!"
"I will follow you, Master..." she whispered before driving the blade into her own throat.
Her body convulsed, blood spilling from her lips as she collapsed into his arms. "I'm sorry... I couldn't stop you..." she choked, and then, in an instant, her body turned to dust, slipping through his fingers like sand. David fell to his knees, his hands trembling as they clutched nothing but the remnants of those he failed. The world around him decayed—buildings crumbled, corpses disintegrated, leaving behind only dust and ruin.
A voice called to him from the abyss. "David... Wake up..."
His eyes snapped open. He was in his bed. His original world. Sweat clung to his skin as he gasped for air, his wife, Linda, peering at him with concern. "You're late for work," she said softly, but David only stared, his mind unraveling. This wasn't right. How was he back here?
He went about his day in a daze. The date on his laptop—this was the same day he had died and reincarnated. Everything was unfolding as before. The betrayal. The pain. The tragedy.
Night came, and rain lashed against the windshield as David drove home, memories clashing violently in his mind. The house was as he remembered—silent, dark. He stepped inside, his heart pounding as muffled noises reached his ears. He moved forward, pushing the bedroom door open. And there they were.
Linda. His wife. His love. Naked, tangled in the arms of his own brother, James.
The sight should have shattered him, just as it had before. But this time, there was no rage. No outburst. Only cold, suffocating silence.
Linda and James froze, their faces contorted in horror. "David, I—"
"Because of this," David spoke, his voice empty, "I died. I was sent to a world of horror. I suffered. I fought. And now... I'm back. But I don't know why."
Tears of blood streamed down Linda's face. Her body convulsed. Her head swelled grotesquely, like an inflating balloon. James screamed as Linda's skull exploded, splattering blood and brain matter across the walls. Then his own head swelled, his cries of terror cut short as his skull burst like a grotesque firework.
David laughed. It started as a chuckle, then grew into a full, unhinged cackle. The power of the God of Darkness still surged within him. He stepped outside, lifting himself into the sky, soaring above the city lights. And then, the nightmare began.
One by one, heads began to swell. People screamed, clutching at their throbbing skulls before they exploded in crimson showers. Streets filled with headless bodies, blood pooling in the gutters. Windows of towering buildings were painted in red as entire office floors turned into scenes of slaughter. Parents cradled their children, only for their little heads to pop, showering their horrified mothers and fathers in gore.
News stations broadcasted the horror live, reporters trembling as they described the inexplicable massacre unfolding across the world. In Times Square, giant screens displayed David's floating figure, his laughter ringing like a death knell. Soldiers swarmed the city, tanks and jets mobilizing, their guns trained on him.
"Fire!" came the desperate command.
Missiles soared. Bullets filled the air. Explosions erupted, engulfing David in smoke and fire. The world held its breath.
The smoke cleared. David stood untouched.
The soldiers looked at one another. Fear took hold of them. "He's... he's a demon...!" a pilot choked over his radio.
One by one, their heads swelled. Panic erupted among the ranks as jets crashed into buildings, tanks rolled over bodies, soldiers dropped their weapons and ran. But there was nowhere to run. Their skulls burst, painting the ground in carnage. Their screams died in gurgles, drowned by David's maddened laughter.
The destruction spread. In India, the streets of Mumbai were drowned in blood. In Japan, neon-lit skyscrapers became graveyards, bodies piling in the streets of Tokyo. In London, Big Ben stood tall amidst the sea of corpses. The Statue of Christ the Redeemer in Brazil crumbled as the entire city of Rio fell silent. Every continent was painted in death.
David raised his hand. "Fall of the Meteor."
The sky darkened. A thousand meteors rained down upon Earth, striking with devastating force. Skyscrapers crumbled. Oceans boiled. Cities were reduced to craters. The world as it was known ceased to exist. From eight billion, only a thousand people remained, huddled together, praying to gods that no longer answered.
David floated above the burning ruins, his laughter echoing through the void. He had suffered. Now, the world would suffer with him.
And then—a voice. "David, wake up."
His eyes snapped open. He was in the dormitory of the Sword Kingdom. Luna stood before him, her expression filled with concern. "We need to go. Henward's Kingdom is waiting."
David swallowed, his heart pounding. Was it truly just a dream?
But as he stepped into the bathroom, he failed to notice the faint traces of blood still clinging to his fingertips. The world he had destroyed was not a dream. It was reality. A reality he had left behind in ruin, thinking it was nothing more than the fragments of his mind.
And so, he left with Luna, oblivious to the devastation he had wrought upon his original world.
The chapter ends.