Desolate

Is this what I truly want? he asked himself. He thought for a moment before a dark voice whispered yes…

He floated alone in a world of absolute emptiness. The remnants of the destroyed world were few and far between, drained of all color and detail. The old inhabitants had simply ceased to exist. He was the only living being in the vast expanse of white.

The white cloaked man smiled in satisfaction at his work. This was just one of the first to go. Soon, they would all be like this. Moments before the world's destruction, he had been here to taunt the heroes and show them their failure. He glowed with pride for a mere second before colder thoughts crept in.

He couldn't help but remember how colorful and alive the world had been. The inhabitants had kept hope close to them, even as their world and their lives were torn apart. That brightness was such a contrast to the cold white plane that it now was.

He sighed heavily as the smile faded away. Shoulders slumping, he drifted slowly down until he touched the flat ground. He looked around with regret. What have I done? His gloved hands tightened into fists. He knew this was wrong, but this was his destiny. It was too late now anyway. Too late to save her, too late to stop the void.

A small part of him was still satisfied. This is what they had done to him. They deserved to have the same fate fall upon them. All worlds would soon be cold and empty, just like my heart.

The man suddenly screamed into the empty air, releasing all of his long held sorrow. He fell to his knees, buried his face in his hands, and collapsed in on himself. Tears dripped down, whispering his beloved's name, as his sobs echoed across the world, as broken as his heart.