Chapter -56: A Worthy Dream

After the daunting mental test Alvis performed to the grueling battle against the goddess Hecate, Sarajin could never have guessed that his final trial would be...sitting in front of a small log fire next to a kid with a strange presence to him.

It was just him, and this kid. Dyntos had gone off on his own.

The bark cracked under the flames, the smell of cedar reminding Sarajin of days gone by.

The kid was doing the sort of stuff boys his age did, fiddling his legs and arms around to get into a comfortable position.

With the way he behaved so far this felt like an act. Or maybe there were some habits that couldn't be broken.

The kid then leaned towards the flames, his eyes glimmering with their crimson embers, a hint of dampness seeping through.

"Do you like campfires, Sarajin?" He pondered.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I used to pitch fires all the time when I was younger, with..." Sarajin froze and a shiver washed over his skin. He then pulled back and rubbed his head, his eyes wandering, "Uhhh, who was it?"

The answer had to be right there, but all he drew was a blank, "Guess it was Auris? Couldn't have been anyone else..."

The kid existed in his own world, talking with no shift in emotion, "My uncle was good at lighting fires. I remember we used to camp out on other planets and look at the stars."

The kid craned his head back and Sarajin joined him in piercing the cosmic fog of this worksop, seeking out the lights of fires that may have long since been snuffed out.

"I saw a star lose its last light on a camping trip. My dad explained it to me in his unique way," The kid then spoke in a completely different voice, "'Stars are formed when clouds of dust and gas are pressed together. When their time is up, they're gone, but not forgotten. See, light travels a long distance to reach us. So the light you saw belonged to a star that died long, long ago.'"

And then he chuckled and returned his voice to normal, "All of that was a roundabout way of introducing me to the concept of mortality. Heh heh heh...!"

He then stretched his hand out towards the stars and turned it around, "How many of those lights are still alive? Do you think the worlds they enriched are still there?"

A little sadness struck his face as he began to mutter, "We're comfortable with our mortality because even when we're gone the stars will still be there. But that's not true. Everything dies."

Sarajin's heart thumped but he felt...calm. These were heavy words for a kid, but he carried that weight with his head held high.

Once he drew his hand back towards the fire he faced Sarajin with eyes tinted green, "You're pretty lucky. Not many people can say they've gotten to experience as many new worlds as you have."

When he hung his head the shade dampened his expression with sorrow, and brought an ominous melody to his whispers, "In spite of their...limiting freedom."

The kid then turned his head back up and smiled, "If I'm ruining the mood, you're welcome to tell me to stop."

Sarajin stared at him for a long while, unhampered by doubt and pulled towards the gravitational pull of this kid's intrigues, "N-No, keep going."

The kid nodded and said softly, "Alright."

The cinders set the mood, the dimming light of the atmosphere helped it along. All light sat upon the kid, as Sarajin was swallowed into his tale...

"Have you heard of heroes? I'm not talking about legends, or figures from epics and myths. Heroes. The many, the proud, the defenders of good in the world."

"You probably haven't. It's not information you'd be allowed to know."

"But they were real. They were amazing. Uncanny. Mighty...Marvelous."

"My mom, my dad, my uncle, and their best friend. They were a few of the first heroes, in a world not unlike many others."

"It was a freak accident. Or perhaps the guiding hand of fate. They were changed forever, and with it came the start of a fantastic story."

"Heroes started emerging all over the world. Born from accidents of science, chosen by destiny, or forced into this role by their own genetic fate."

"And every hero that emerged from the light came with their darkness: Villains."

"It was no longer a world for humans. They were just spectators in the conflicts that arose for years to come."

"What began as simple crime fighting would escalate into heated feuds over differing ideals between those who stood in the light and those who triumphed in the darkness."

"Some waned from the light, others rose out of the darkness. The status quo changed innumerable times, and our world would fracture from changes too great to ignore, splintering into multiple universes."

"Our world was the origin point for many calamities across time and space...But it was also the birthplace of love, hope, and inspiration."

"There were humans who felt the pull of heroism and strove to join alongside their inspirations and fight crime, making the world a much better place, even if it was only for a short while."

"No matter how the world changed, the first and fantastic four heroes stuck together through thick and thin. They had their differences, anyone with their own views aren't going to get along all the time. What mattered is what was born from their unity. What mattered...was me."

"I was the first one. The first child born of two different heroes." He spoke with a hint of pride, mixed with sorrow.

"My dad...he was a scientist. And not, pardon my rudeness, a common rank and file one like the men in your world. He was the greatest mind on the planet. On any other world his intelligence would have him revered as a god."

"He tended to be detached at times but when it came to his friends and family he would also find room in his equations for us."

"My birth was the perfect opportunity for someone like him. Think, the first child of two heroes is born. What would his powers be like? Would there be any side effects?"

"He passed up the opportunity of a lifetime to love me as his son. Him and my mom were the best, supportive parents a kid like me could have asked for."

"I had some interest in science but not as much as I did heroes. My younger sister filled that place by my father's side."

"But my powers manifested early on, and with devastating results."

"My dad originally quantified my powers as an extension of my mom's, that being the ability to manipulate energy and matter."

Sarajin blinked and when he awakened, the kid was a couple years older and wearing different clothes. His head twitched but he didn't bat an eye.

The kid raised his hand and from it, created a small swirling mass of gathered stars and colored dust, "But I was much, much more powerful than that, and my power would grow as I got older."

"The power to manipulate energy and matter opened the door for me to wield the hands of creation itself. I could shift through dimensions, form celestial matter with just a thought, even create separate realities that would come with its own people, following their own set of rules I had made for them, albeit subconsciously."

"I never wanted to abuse that power. A friend of the family, my favorite hero of them all once said...'With great power comes great responsibility'."

"But who'd blame me for messing around? I was a young, imaginative kid and could do whatever I wanted! And what I wanted...was to be a superhero, just like my parents."

"My sister was the brains, and I was the power. And after we had proved ourselves capable of helping out, our parents started to pay closer attention to my powers to help me control it."

"We were constantly fighting off the worst the universe had to offer. Invaders from negative space, a planet-eating giant and his heralds, and even shapeshifting aliens who wielded the powers of my family together at once."

"And as I got older, the heroes I admired started to get more jaded. There were events in our lives that made them fight each other instead of villains. Sometimes it'd be something as simple as the difference between right and wrong in the law, other times they were just dumb, childish squabbles."

"...It started around the time we were invaded by a massive influx of emergent heroes and villains."

At that moment, Sarajin felt dread welling in his gut.

"Their appearance seemed innocent enough. Given enough time we were always going to see new heroes and villains arise. It happened plenty of times already."

"But while they were around everything...warped. Heroes started acting not like themselves. The new heroes were doing their jobs but better. New villains knew how to perfectly counter their adversaries despite how new they were to their profession."

"The facts of our lives were shifting to accompany these new lives. We found ourselves unable to trust our histories. Our points of origin to our heroics were being challenged."

"And because of this massive influx of new faces, it forced more alternative universes to emerge in the wake of these changes."

There before the fire sat a man wearing a skin-tight blue shirt that extended up around most of his face, with bits of gold sticking out. His face was weary, and dirtied up, with eyes trained to harden in the face of calamity.

"Even my mom and dad were victims of this insanity." He uttered, struggling to restrain his fists, but the workshop around them was starting to crack even in the atmosphere.

Sarajin paused and took a deep breath, his heart skipping a beat, then the kid took a moment to smile and say, "Do you need a moment?"

Sarajin blinked a few times to reassess his grip on reality. The kid remained the same.

He shook his head, and the kid continued.

"This was the beginning of an apocalypse, one so subtle that not even the abstracts with their heightened cosmic awareness could see it coming."

"And I am not talking about the Incursions that tore through the omniverse. That was just the prelude..."

"I should explain," The middle-aged man with his futuristic blue suit on, and scruffy dirty blonde beard, raised his finger to create two separate images of a blue and green planet, act as visuals aid while he spoke up in a voice that could command stars, "A force beyond the walls of our reality known as the Beyonders began forcing our worlds together through time and space. If they collided, it would bring about the death of both worlds."

"Those with vision saw the end of days."

"Those with strength willed themselves to defy it."

"Idealists collapsed under pressure, worlds crumbled."

"My father tried desperately to find a solution that did not invoke destruction. And I was proud of him...but he was still just a man."

"And when met with death, sometimes all we can do is run."

"We could not avert the end of days."

"The last two worlds crashed together. My home, lost in a sea of white nothingness."

"The ideal of heroes had suffered corruption from an unknown force but maybe it could have died with dignity, having bravely stood to defy the end of everything..."

The kid closed his hand and upon that moment, the silhouette of a man with an iron mask and white, flowing cape towered over him, echoing a haunting voice, "'No'. So speaks Doom."

This was power. This was ambition. These were the hands that took, the presence that consumed. All that stood before it was expected to kneel, and though the specter lasted but a millisecond Sarajin would never forget that he had almost done so.

"...My father's greatest foe stood defiant against the Beyonders and managed to merge together the scraps of the dead worlds into one last whole. The last bastion of hope, held together by lies and egotism."

"My father had managed to survive, circumstances had caused me to be forced to be the son of the Emperor, while my mother became his wife."

"My father had lost hope, lost love. But he hadn't lost his mind. And there were still heroes, still fighting...For peace, for hope, for inspiration."

"It didn't matter that the world was gone because their ideals were stronger than oblivion. My father rallied the remaining heroes and together, managed to find a way to restore the world to the way it was."

"But it was a new beginning..." Said the adolescent with black hair and a black and blue futuristic suit, "For everyone...and for me."

The middle-aged man stood tall and proud, radiating with the lights of the cosmos, "My life was destined to be there for the end of the universe, to welcome in a new one."

Wearing the skin tight blue suit around his body, he uttered with dismay, "But sometimes destiny shifts course."

The kid sat back down and watched as the fires rose, taking the shape of wings as red as blood, "Sometimes...you can only delay the end."

Sarajin was paralyzed, feeling that he was getting a taste of a greater sense of awareness the more he watched this kid.

He never wanted to blink again. He focused, trying to see this kid for what he truly was...

And the story continued, just like the words being typed on this page, "The universe had to restart and that meant rebuilding everything that had been lost."

"My father, alongside my mother, my sister, and a small group of friends, traveled across universes to help birth new life and possibilities with the help of my powers."

"We had no choice but to abandon the rest of our family on the new Earth, and surely they would hate us for it."

"We'd never know...We never had a chance."

"The Incursions had been solved. There was a chance to make amends to past mistakes and reforge relationships..."

"We were cocky. Blind. So distracted by one averted apocalypse we had forgotten about the other, seeping now deeper into the healing wounds of our universe."

He leaned his head upright and looked at Sarajin with his hair black and his voice swallowed up by the echoes of his tones throughout the ages, "You've heard of this phenomenon, haven't you?"

"..." Sarajin's eyes narrowed, then slowly widened to encompass all the horror his heart could handle in the moment, "The 'Poison'? Y-Your world was invaded by...'Blanks'?"

"In numbers greater than anything seen before or since," The kid bled that conversation into that reveal almost too naturally, "The malignant beings who control them felt magnetically drawn to our amazing fantasy. Perhaps they are envious of what we could accomplish, the utopia we would have created in time."

"They sought to fracture us, change us, bring down our ideals."

"But that's just a guess. Who can pretend to peer into the eyes clinging behind a static veil and still retain sanity...Ha ha ha...!" His jaw briefly unhinged...

The black-haired adolescent then hung his head and looked tired, "We were outside of our universe. We didn't know what was going on until it was too late to do anything about it."

"First the Earth was destroyed. Then the Nine Realms of the Gods. A wave of fire swept through the stars, blotting out entire worlds, and the cosmic pantheons of warriors greater than or equal to the gods fell like dominoes."

"No hero, villain, or abstract could stand against it."

"It was the mysterious force's last hail mary against our ideal, its ultimate weapon, molded in carnage and burning with hate."

"I only learned later the being had a name befitting the silhouette burning off its back..."

"It was called...the Phoenix of Destruction."

"...!" Sarajin, for some reason, squirmed.

There were screams of celestial intensity ripping through the skies as all around them, starry ghosts of titans fell, scarred with fissures deep of fire.

"By the time the upper echelon of abstracts deigned to intervene, it was already too late. Our universe was too weak from the recent rebirth and that let the 'Poison' spread like a cancer."

"And that...alerted our last executioners...the 'higher-ups'."

Sarajin's gaze went hollow as he focused on the middle-aged man speaking from the terror in his heart, "We were heroes. We were gods. We were...so very, very small."

"A roar cracked our fragile universe and heralded the end of days."

"A flash of blank whiteness expanded outward to consume everything that remained."

"Our family was at the edge of existence, we had the longest time to brace ourselves for the end of days."

"Yet while staring down the rapture of our time, my parents had enough time to show one last act of love. With my father's genius, my mother's protection, and my sister's unflinching attitude, they were able to build one last spaceship that would be able to shuttle a survivor through the edge of our universe."

The black-haired adolescent's voice cracked down to a whimper, "I-It was me...It had to be me."

"I could start things over, again."

"They trusted me, believed in me...loved me. I watched them cry with tears like beautiful stardust as my ship rocketed me forward, beyond oblivion, beyond reason, to flee instead of fight..."

"After I had spent days crying I forced myself to look back, and all that remained was nothingness, crunched down by the surrounding spheres containing other universes."

"Our world existed. But no one would believe you if you told them."

"We were supposed to carry our ideals to peaks that would only become more difficult to climb, but our battle was a scam from the beginning..."

"Forces we couldn't even perceive sent their servants to poison our worlds."

"A power we could not divine watched and observed us like the ants we were, magnifying glass ready to burn us down..."

"Somehow...I wasn't the only survivor. A few others had escaped. One was fractured and divided among other universes, the other disappeared into the timestream, flung far into the future, and the final one fled to the farthest reaches of space..."

The middle-aged man raised his hand and created a miniature universe in it, "And I was supposed to do what? Make a new world? Try and recreate the magic of the age of heroes?"

"I had hope...one time, that it was possible."

"But not long after I lost my world, our sister universe suffered a similar fate at the hands of the 'higher-ups', losing with them its share of great heroes."

"It was there my light of hope was to be snuffed out. The ideal of heroes had no place in a universe where powers beyond our comprehension dictate our fate."

The man grew wrinkles, his voice becoming more arid and full of despair, like his beard hairs elongated like blades of grass, "I became a wanderer. What was the point of anything we had done? Or anything I could do beyond the then and now..."

"I was alone. With no one who embodied the ideals I once admired."

Then, the fire began to flicker out, putting his silhouette in a faint, burning shadow. He craned his head back, and as the peak of melancholy began to drag this story down, the man's face began to smile.

"And then...I found it. This little, innocuous world far off from all the rest. Where a child was raised full of hope, because he knew of love, and would grow to inspire others to feel the same..."

"I had found your world. I had found...you."

Sarajin got goosebumps.

"I have always been there. A figure, staring from a distance. A miner, passing by to say hello. A man of science, walking his robot dog through the streets."

"And all throughout I've seen your ideals be challenged and upheld. You're an incredible man with an incorruptible spirit. And that is why...I had to come out of hiding today."

The man reached out through the fading darkness to grab hold of Sarajin's hands, pressing the wrinkled skin against them, the warmth having long since faded.

"What you have is pure, and the longer you let yourself be a slave to the will of the 'higher-ups, the more it will become stained."

"The 'Poison' and 'Blanks' need to be stopped. But the solution they provide is the guiltless erasure of eons of history. How is that fair tell me, how is that fair?!"

He squeezed Sarajin's hands and heaved like dust was lodged inside of his throat, "I'm so tired of it all...That lasting agony of survivor's guilt..."

"P-Please...listen to the begging of a universe's last voice...Please...don't gamble your world away on the faint chance of stopping the 'Blanks'...Live YOUR life, Sarajin, enrich YOUR world with hope, love and inspiration. Carry on...the ideals of the long dead..."

Sarajin held his hands tighter and bit his teeth, frantic to find something to say.

Instead the man's body stabilized, and light once more began to fill the dimension. And with it, Sarajin finally became aware of the true form of this person.

They were a withering old man with a tidy beard extending straight down to his knee, covering most of the front of a blue, latex outfit with tears and dirt all over. There were faint hints of blonde hair mixed in the gray and his eyes were lit up like the deep blue cosmos.

It was a struggle for him to breathe, and his eyes remained vacant as he raised his hunched head to look this kind fellow in the eyes and tell him, "There is...one more purpose behind our meeting. I want to impart you...with a gift."

The man pulled his hands away and streams of energy began to slip out, swirling together into a sphere of perfectly compact silver and blue light, containing tiny, innumerable cosmos.

It remained floating above Sarajin's hands as the man retreated, beginning to build up a sweat, "I-It is...the vestiges of my power. Use it...responsibly...do good by your planet..."

Sarajin grit his teeth and lunged his head out in a panic, "I-I can't take this...! I...I know I can't be trusted with this much power..."

"T-Then find someone who can, I trust you either way. I cannot...let it have gone to waste...on a fool like me..."

While Sarajin was entranced by the light of creation in his hands, the man reached down beside him, to a knife hidden just out of sight, and whispered with a sense of relief, "This is...my final request..."

Sarajin raised his head and let out an inaudible gasp as the man plunged the knife straight into his heart, powering through the pain with a roar of grit.

His arms immediately went limp and he fell onto his back. But Sarajin moved over and caught him, sliding on his knees away from the fire.

Sarajin's heart started racing as he uttered "Why?!" a few times with less volume per successive utterance.

Fighting through tearful strain, Sarajin tried to apply his powers to the bleeding wound only for the man to strangle his wrist with his last bastions of strength.

"Let me die..." He whispered with a strength of will beyond the ages.

Sarajin looked deep into his eyes and wanted some reason, something that could justify a death like this.

The man smiled and laid his hand to rest atop the wound, "The ideal of heroes is still alive...My life is no longer needed to carry it on..."

"It is...strange though...Your world...carries a faint scent of familiarity to me...Perhaps this, too, is fate..."

"At least now...I can join my family again..."

"O-Oh that's right...I never told you my name...like I promised..."

His voice was getting fainter, and fainter, so he pulled Sarajin's head in closer with his withered hand and said, "My name...is Franklin R-..."

Loose air became drowned in silence, and his hand fell to the ground, floating upon the edge of a puddle of blood.

Sarajin hung his head against the man's chest and felt his body grow cold.

And the whole world felt cold, and empty, devoid of reason.

It was enough to make him cry, cry aloud for this man who shared his final moments with him...

There would be one less star out tonight...

Later, when the moment had passed, Sarajin made a grave for him on the grounds of this workshop.

The man had an emblem that said "4" under his beard, worn out from time...

He put the energies of creation inside of an orb to hold for safe-keeping for now.

And after kneeling in respect for this man, he was approached by the quieted Dyntos.

"So he finally chose to pass..." He murmured.

Sarajin curled his fingers into his pants and shook.

The god looked upon him and wondered, "Are you going to be ok?"

Sarajin bit his lower lip and shook his head.

"Hrrmm...Nobody would. It's nothing to be ashamed of," Dyntos then rubbed his beard and murmured, "Go home kid. Get some rest. I'll have that ol' codger Yen Sid send the finished product your way."

Sarajin pulled himself up and nodded, with the god giving one last offering of genuine remorse, "Had I known...I never would have let you go through these trials. Swear on my life."

"...Yeah," Sarajin whispered, then raised his head up and strained to say, "Yen Sid...I'm ready."

Before he knew it he was taken away from the workshop and placed in front of the man in the white nothingness that for Sarajin, now took on an eerier meaning.

The wizard held his hands within his sleeve and had a reclusive expression on his face. Sarajin stared at him back, his eyes red and draped with tired rage.

Yen Sid closed his eyes and hung his head, and Sarajin grit his teeth and fists and muttered coldly, "Why didn't you tell me...?"

He lashed his hands out and started marching towards the wizard untethered by any fear of the divine, "You TOLD ME that we were saving these worlds from the 'Poison', and you thought to not also mention what you do when we're too late?!"

Sarajin grabbed the old man by the cloak and hoisted him off the ground, and he hung like a doll, "How many worlds have we failed to save?! H-How many people lost their dreams because of you?!"

"TELL ME!"

"Let GO of him, Sarajin...!" Roared the mighty Futanji.

Sarajin dropped Yen Sid to the ground and puppeteered his hateful stare over the entity that earned it the most.

But through his outrage, the dragon carried with him an air of subdued regret.

Locking his teeth in bitterness and swelling rage, Sarajin squeezed his fists and trembled, "I-I heard it all from one of the survivors...How could you...?"

"...So, it WAS his light I felt flicker out..." Murmured the dragon.

"Answer me!" Sarajin screamed.

"Watch your TONGUE, child...!" The dragon's rage shook the spirit out of Sarajin's will and the tears from his own motionless eyes, glittering as bright as stars as they fell...

"Do you think it so easy to do what I had to do...? That I am so hollow, have long been denied a heart...?"

"My HEART is bigger than I, and filled with love for each and EVERY one of you...If it was not for this love would I cry?! Or be plagued by guilt every waking night...?!"

"I murdered every. Single. One...of my children, and I can NEVER take it back. The cessation of their lives, their dreams, their hopes will forever be a hollow wound upon thy flesh."

"Yet every day I PERSIST because it is my obligation, my sworn vow, to each and every child of mine, that I not let a tragedy of this magnitude occur again."

"I can write my apology out with every star that dots the night sky and it would not be enough. I never meant to deceive you, but I alone should have to bear the burden of the weight of the truth."

"Look upon me. PLEASE look upon me, and tell me the form of which I take in your eyes..."

Vision blurred by tears and mind-numbing rage, Sarajin forced himself to look towards the face of this titanic serpentine creature and whispered out, "Y-You're...still the same as ever..."

"Do scales smear my frame? Do thy eyes see a weary snout, hung against this realm of nothingness?"

Sarajin trembled, pushing his lips together and whispering, "Y-Yes..."

"Then you can trust what I say as my genuine word."

It wasn't enough...

"T-Then tell me...!" Sarajin let it all hang out with an agonized scream, "Has ANY of this been worth it?!

"It HAS. Your selflessness has been nothing but beneficial to ensuring the dreams of my children can prosper."

"...If you still doubt my word after all this, then I shall make this vow before you. Should I ever allow the same tragedy to repeat again, I will allow you to hurt me as much as you can."

"I wish I could offer my life, but I am the tether that holds all worlds together..."

"...You don't need to give me your life, I just...I just...want to know..." From Sarajin's heart, came a plea for sanctity and hope, "Is my world safe? Would you destroy it...if the 'Poison' infected us?"

Futanji gasped with restraint and then after prolonged silence, answered, "Your world is...a complicated affair, compared to most."

"The majority of worlds were born from my scales, and thus, are expected to kneel to a hymn of order. But there are many worlds born from the cast of dust denied a chance to be part of creation. These are known as Man Forged Worlds, and house species that are free from the rest of the universe, and thus, are unable to be afflicted with the 'Poison'."

"And your world is one such, born very late into the cycle of the universe by a survivor from another I wiped out..."

"I know not the purpose behind which your god, your 'Winged Flame' made this a reality, but I can assure you...As your world is a blindspot for me, so too is it for the likes of 'Authors' and 'Blanks'."

"...Sarajin. You do not need to keep forcing yourself to help me. I fear there will come a point where doing this will bring you more harm than good."

Sarajin snarled his teeth and muttered bitterly, "I'm NOT going to make this about me...! It's about everyone else out there who deserves to have a chance to make their dreams a reality...!"

"I don't think...I can ever forgive you for keeping this hidden from me...or for killing all those innocent heroes..." Sarajin clenched his fist and held it up to the mighty dragon, "But you're the only one who can see these 'Blanks' and stop them. We HAVE to stop them, so I don't care...Keep using me. We're not going to let another world suffer."

"...If that is your wish."

Sarajin steeled his eyes full of tears and nodded.

This was all that could be said and done for now. Maybe Sarajin was making a mistake, but he owed it to Franklin and the world of heroes that fell to the machinations of the 'Authors' to keep fighting...Even if it meant continuing to ally himself with murderers...

He would return home to his family and hold them tightly, letting the remainder of his tears fall onto their clothes.

Later on, after explaining everything that happened to Auris, she used her clairvoyance to determine the best place to leave Franklin's powers behind.

It would be hidden away in a temple that would one day come to be home to a colony of miner aliens. And one plucky alien would gain these powers and bring about great prosperity among the stars...

"Of course, you know how the story goes otherwise, don't you?"

And later on, a gift wrapped in cloth arrived for Sarajin. In it, containing not one, not two, but four swords gifted to him by Lord Dyntos.

It was his way of apologizing for the stress placed upon Sarajin, and he carefully crafted each of these swords to fit a different role in Sarajin's future battles.

An amber shortsword named Gekimetsu, the Sun-Rending Fang.

A broadsword with a crossguard hilt named Saikafu, the Broadsword of Renewal.

A helix-bladed sword missing a handle, capable of being controlled by the mind, was called Muchitsujo, the Helix of Balance.

And finally, a katana bound together by multiple gemstones into a form that resembled the sharpest of diamonds, but more durable and everlasting than even the most ageless star...Was the one Sarajin gravitated towards.

Not because of any fondness for the appearance or the comfort of use. It was the name that made the decision for him.

Kowarishi or, "Unbreakable Will". Taking up that sword was proof that he would keep moving forward, working harder than ever to carry on the ideals of hope, love and inspiration that the heroes of the past once did.

He was in control of his own fate, and that fate would never yield to the dark impulses of those whispering beyond the static veil...

This was where a new legend would start to truly be born...This was the true day, that the world would begin to whisper and hail the title of 'Elemental Overlord' across the cosmos...

Next Time: Spread your Sorrows to the Open Sea