Michael drifted through the void, floating aimlessly in the vast emptiness of space. There was no up, no down—just infinite blackness broken only by faint glimmers of distant stars. Time had no meaning here, and it felt as though he had been adrift forever. His body, though capable of enduring the harsh vacuum, bore scars from his battle with the shadow beast. Yet it wasn't the physical pain that consumed him—it was the gnawing ache within his chest.
Fragments of his destroyed home filled his mind, flashing like a cruel slideshow. His sister's smile, his brother-in-law's laugh, the vibrant streets of his city—all reduced to nothingness in a heartbeat. The weight of his failure pressed down on him, suffocating him even in the airless void. Michael clutched his head, tears floating like shimmering droplets around him, dissolving into the vacuum.
He wasn't sure how far he had drifted or how long. Hours? Days? Months? His energy flickered dimly around him, a reminder of his unnatural existence. Hopelessness rooted him to this aimless wandering, but the universe itself seemed unwilling to let him go.
A sudden pull jolted him from his daze—a gravitational force tearing at him. His body was dragged downward, falling faster and faster as he spiraled toward the surface of a desolate planet. He plummeted through the atmosphere, crashing into barren soil with such force that a cloud of dust and ash billowed around him.
For a long while, Michael lay still, face pressed against the cracked ground. When the dust settled, he rose weakly to his knees and looked around. The landscape was barren, devoid of life. The sky was a sickly orange hue, and the air smelled of decay. He wasn't sure what kind of world he had landed on, but it felt as empty as he did.
Grief overtook him once more. His shoulders trembled, and his hands clawed at the ground as he sobbed uncontrollably. "Why…?" he choked out between breaths. "Why couldn't I save them? My world…my family…" His cries echoed in the hollow wasteland, a sound that belonged to no one but him.
After what felt like an eternity, Michael finally stood. His energy flickered faintly around him, giving him the strength to move. Wiping his face, he murmured to himself, "No. Not like this. I won't stop until I find him." He raised a hand, and his cosmic energy surged, enveloping him in a shimmering green aura. With trembling resolve, he teleported away.
Michael reappeared at the entrance of his rented home in the dimension where he had bought his supplies. To his surprise, all the items he had ordered were neatly stacked outside the door. The sight was bittersweet—a reminder of plans that now felt insignificant in the face of his loss. He stepped inside, and as he did, the house AI chirped to life.
"Welcome back, Michael. Your rental agreement has exceeded its duration. Please note that continued occupation without payment will result in eviction."
Michael sighed, his gaze sweeping over the holographic message glowing faintly in front of him. "Eviction… Guess I have some catching up to do." He wasn't sure whether to be irritated or amused by the AI's professionalism, but right now, it didn't matter.
Entering his bedroom, Michael freshened up, splashing water onto his face and taking a long, reflective look in the mirror. His reflection was startling. His eyes shimmered cosmic green—brighter than before. His body had transformed, his muscles more defined, his black skin glowing faintly with a cosmic glitter that seemed to dance in the light.
"Guess there's no hiding what I've become…" he muttered, touching his face. The energy emanating from him felt…different now. It was as though the loss and rage had reshaped him.
Michael dressed quickly, slipping into the clothes he had brought with him from Terra. As he stood by the door, his thoughts turned dark. Revenge burned brightly within him—a singular purpose that drove every step forward.
"I'll find you," Michael murmured, his fists clenched tightly. "And when I do…you'll pay for what you've done."
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