Another spontaneous story after a million years of inactivity. It's also a different approach to the writing I'm used to, so if it feels a bit off in any way, let me know. Otherwise, enjoy this take on Diabolic Esper!

Entries of a Time Traveler

AES (After Elrios Split) 20XX, Trial 0

Well, this is less of a trial than me ordering my thoughts on a journal. At last! I've done it! Through hardships, endless calculations, and the 'contribution' of others, I'm finally capable of space-time travel! So exciting, I cannot wait! Just hold on a little longer, Mother, Father. I will see you again, and I will save you... We will be together again, at long last. I won't be seeing those annoying brats that stick next to my lovely Eve anymore, kuhuhu. Wait, will I be able to see Eve in the past?! All the more reason to go! I keep hearing from the purple midget that 'it's dangerous, you might cause damage to blah blah blah.' No clue why she keeps bringing it up. I hate conversing with them; it's like they're trying to replace you two. No one will replace you two. I will save you and live with you two. I could bring you back or just decide to live with you. I can tell you what it took to get to you, and...

[the rest of the entry consists of the writer's plans with his family.]

BES (Before Elrios Split) XXX, Trial 1

[The entry is shakily and hastily written, as if the writer were trembling in rage.]

HOW can this be?! My calculations were... no, no, I will not say they were perfect. Perfection doesn't exist in this world, try as I might. The more accurate term might be adequate... sufficient?

It was supposed to be a sky wreathed in the fires of burning buildings. The air was to be suffocating, filled to the brim with smoke and despair. The ground was to be bare and trodden by those who wished my family harm.

It wasn't supposed to look so blissful.

I saw them. My loving mother, my strong father, and me. They were living happily in their house in the middle of a flower-filled prairie. The sky was clear and blue, without a worry in the world. This was wrong. I was supposed to save them. I was supposed to live with them. ME, not some [a long, venomous tirade toward the other Add] who has no idea of what I've been through!

I couldn't believe the Dynamos displayed a 42.72% discrepancy rate. Almost half of this world was a falsification of what I sought. I will try again. It is obvious I am in a different timeline. An elementary mistake by me, and I will not make it again.

[The next few entries consist of complex mathematical formulas accompanied by related doodles.]

BES XXX, Trial 5

Discrepancy rate of 38.76% is far too inadequate. Strange... I was certain I would make better progress than this. It leaves me... depressed and with a bitter taste in my mouth. Why do I feel sadder than I did beginning this mission? Is it because of the familiar faces in joy, a joy that I never had? I believe I have found a huge error in my previous calculations, though. Perhaps this will make headway.

[The next few entries consist of complex mathematical formulas accompanied by related doodles. There are a couple dark droplets on the last few entries.]

BES XXX, Trial 13

Discrepancy rate of 20.14%... Much more progress, but still nowhere near enough. My eyes have been hurting lately. Most likely an unprecedented side effect of constant time-space travel, I noticed the very edge of my sclera begin to darken. This most recent attempt actually involved me bleeding from the eyes. There is no time for rest, however. I'm getting closer! Eve, are you watching me now? Wait, which Eve should be watching, kuhuhu... the one that I know or the one I've yet to meet?

[The next few entries consist of complex mathematical formulas accompanied by related sketches and unrelated doodles, mostly of what is likely Eve. There are dried blood droplets on every entry.]

BES XXX, Trial 25

Discrepancy rate of 15.97%. Progress has obviously slowed. My eyes no longer hurt, but what was once white is now inky black. It seems to be more than just physical side-effects, as the change only occurs when in Dynamo Configuration Mode or when attempting space-time activities. Could these be spacial-temporal effects when excessively in different timelines? I hope this doesn't scare you, Mother and Father. On the note of effects, the Dynamos seem to be changing as well. I've noted a faint crystallization on the exterior; no visible damage to the interior workings. Same on the edges of my clothing. This doesn't count as space dust, does it? Ugh, even in the middle of space-time, there is no such thing as cleanliness.

[The next few entries consist of complex mathematical formulas accompanied by related sketches. Upon closer examination, there appears to be a faint amount of crystal residue on the pages.]

BES XXX, Trial 32

Discrepancy rate of 4.84%. MAJOR BREAKTHROUGH! The world I teleport to now has the same atmosphere as I remember. The fire, the smoke, and the presence of scum... all are present! I must have spent hours staring at the scenery. It was so wrong, but I've never felt so relieved. I can do this. The details involving this are so many I couldn't possibly put them in this journal, but I'll leave the bare bones in just in case. It regards space and time in a way that normal idiots wouldn't understand. Hell, I'll bet that even the purple midget wouldn't know. Maybe... this much knowledge would kill that bastard Elsword from brain overload, kuhuhu... They think they've figured the nuances of time and space, but they're all wrong!

Speaking of scum and killing, my stupor caused those parents of mine to die. The scum killed them again.

They got what they deserved.

[The next entries contain a detailed, yet brief explanation on the culminations of the writer's research. Afterwards, a continuation of formulas and sketches.]

BES XXX, Trial 87

Discrepancy rate of 6.19%. Why?! Why can't I go any farther?! Something's wrong. Something's very wrong. I see my parents, my loving parents, and I hate them. They're not them, but they are, aren't they? I can't stand standing by anymore; I help them. Yet when I turn to look at them, they don't see their son, the one next to them. They call me a black-eyed monster, clothed in a sinister purple and menacing spearheads floating at the ready. I explained over and over, but they do not listen. WHY DO THEY NOT LISTEN?!

I could not make any more progress after Trial 32. I have been experimenting with various factors, adjusting them to the point where they'd barely change, and no improvement. Is this fate's way of teasing me?

[The next entries are sparsely worded, vaguely explaining the changes and results of the writer's experiments.]

AES 20XX, Trial 190

Why? This is all wrong. I'm being watched. They sometimes come. She always comes. I see everything. I want to know the outcomes. She'll come again.

BES XXX, Trial 190

They have no future, and I can't make one.

[The next entries are vague at best, portraying the ramblings of a delusional madman.]

AES 20XX, Trial [The number is illegible.]

She came again. I am here.

bes xxx, trial [The number is covered in blood.]

[The following entry is shakily written, evidently without thought or clarity, and otherwise smeared in blotchy marks of blood.]

i write thsi with stikcy hands a nd im so srory im so sorry i ddint me an to kill yu but i did and im sorry i coulndt stan d it any more you tow are not my rea l fmaily you ar fakes i trid so hard to mee t my rela family i swore id stya sane i hpoe you b oth forgvie me so i kliled those scu m that tried t o kill you imsosoryrfrogiveme

[The next pages are nothing but ramblings and phrases repeated over and over again, such as 'I'm sorry' and 'Why can't I save them?' until the final entry, written in clarity once more.]

Those created before me are nothing but eternal. Thus, I, too, stand for eternity. For those who read this, lose all hope. For I am the entity of sorrow. For I am suffering. For I am one of the eternal doomed.

I have come to realize it will never come to pass. I will never see my real mother and father. I will never exchange words with them one last time, for that time has already long passed. To return to the past which I belong, I would have to know the coordinates of space-time beforehand. That is impossible; otherwise, it would require perfect discrepancy. Nothing in this world is perfect, so that too must be impossible.

All of my work, all of my effort... for nothing. It was all worthless in the end. I was never rewarded. So, I have decided. To those who read this, take solace that you are my timeline, the one where I had parents, my goal that ended up being unreachable. To every other space-time, I'll give you until I arrive to pray to the god of your choosing. I'll destroy your damned and false worlds, regardless of the consequences.

May you all have a nice day in hell.

[No more is written after this entry.]