Dying on a Dead World

A gray and ruined world lay beneath a bright sky. The ruins and rubble on the ground contrasted with the clear blue. It seemed they were two different worlds that did not belong in the same picture. However, the truth of the matter is always harsher than its first appearance. The reason the sky looked clear and not a cloud was seen is that the destruction on the earth had directly burst the clouds to pieces long ago. The chaos on the ground was so wicked and crazed it touched the sky.

It had been years since Cui Xuefeng had last seen a cloud. This was a realization he came to as he lay covered in dust and dried blood. He hadn't looked up in a long time. He hadn't dared look around at the destruction he lived in. Partially to run away from the truth. Partially because of guilt. No matter his righteous reasons, he'd also had a hand in his planet's end.

The body of a trained warrior was littered with scars. Every sq in of skin was marred in one way or another. More commonly marred in many ways with more scared buried and hidden beneath the surface. His right eye had been run through long ago by some monster or another. Through the narrow crack in his lids, he'd cut open a dark pupil could be seen. His left eye had no lids at all. It was entirely white. Scars on his head reduced the hair that could grow making it look sparse, irregular, thin, and ugly. His ears were in a worse state. In fact, even before they were damaged to such a terrible extent he'd long since lost his hearing.

Along with his missing ears, his lips were deformed, one side melted off, and his teeth cracked. He'd started using his mouth to hold a weapon--or used as a weapon itself--after the loss of his hand. The musculature from the removed joint was almost entirely removed up to his collarbone.

On his other arm was a burn mark imprinted deep into his flesh in the silhouette of a hand. His palm had been scarred so even his lifelines were missing. It looked like a mini model of mountain ranges and valleys. His thumb was missing, one finger web had been cut down into his hand to create a split down the middle of his hand. His fingertips had long been calloused, eroded, cut, burned, scarred, reformed, and any other doing that could be done to them.

Although it could not be seen through the rags he'd wrapped himself in, by the outline of his figure there wasn't much left to be called 'human' underneath his clothes, either. His neck, legs, and feet were in no better state.

It was too much to say he was still alive. In fact, he had come back to Earth to die. He was no longer able to move. He had been fatally injured again in a battle with an old enemy. He'd escaped and left them no worse off than he. His body had stopped healing itself some time ago.

How long it had been, he wasn't sure. Passing through worlds and traveling through wormholes didn't give much room for keeping track of such things. If he could, he would find that 30 years had passed on Earth during his travels. He was no longer young but he was far from being old. Especially considering his lengthened lifespan. If his peers were still alive they would be capable middle-aged men. Yet his own appearance left much to be desired. He himself wasn't even aware that his hair had turned white and gray. Even if he did know, such things had long escaped his acknowledgments. Who knew when he'd last had a bath?

He wondered if he was dying of old age. He had lost track of time so deeply during his run that this consideration became a fact in his mind. Considering his travels through wormholes or black holes or who-knows-what and locked up or hidden for who-knows-how-long it was a realistic belief. In fact, though only 30 years had passed on Earth it didn't mean he wasn't indeed older than this. However, there was no one who knew for sure. Or no one who knew and cared, anyway.

Cui Xuefeng's thoughts wandered to the time he'd spent on Earth. In the recesses of his mind, he recalled that he had a family when he was younger. Someone who was sickly, and a sister. What was left of his mind was just as torn and shredded as his appearance, but he wrapped those needle-tip-thin memories around him as he faded.

He wished he could see the light through those hospital windows once more. He wanted to know who was sick and their importance to him. If it were the him of today he was certain he could heal them. An Earth-type disease or illness could be gone in the snap of a finger.

A sister, yes, he'd had a sister. He wondered how old she had been. How she'd died. How she lived.

He didn't doubt for a second that she was dead. He didn't remember her death or anything else about her. But the number of humans that survived the disaster could probably fit into a single Earth building. They scattered into the worlds and realms to fight for survival. How could humans survive in such places? Even the peaceful lands could kill a weak human let alone worlds all struggling for survival. He had no doubt he was one of the last ones left. If there were others, they did not exceed what he could count on his hand.

Despite his unreasonable mana reservoir the mana flowing into his body was still becoming too much. He could feel the pressure pushing from the inside out. He could feel the mana sickness taking his mind. Soon, his body would fill. The density would become too much. He wondered what effect it would have on Earth when he exploded with his level of mana. The only reason he wasn't already dead was because of the many treasures and breakthroughs of his limits. No human could ever imagine obtaining this level of strength before the catastrophe. Earth had been abandoned and sealed back then.

He came back to lie in his grave. This was where he wanted to be buried.

Cui Xuefeng pushed useless thoughts from his mind. He soaked in the vague memories of a sick family member and a sister. His mind was carried away by the sickness. Cui Xuefeng's mind was gone before his body had filled.