Failure

'Damn. Damn. Damn!' He thought to himself, gritting his teeth.

'Where did it all go wrong? Why did humanity fail? Why did that person fail? How could that person fail?' As his thoughts raced, he stood alone on the battlefield, battered and near death.

The buildings in the distance were unrecognizable, and the sky overhead could barely be called a 'sky'.

It was as if the universe itself had shattered, breaking into millions of pieces as stars toppled from their lofty perches. The tiny specks that once adorned the night sky began to fade, while the outlines of other worlds flickered in and out of existence.

As he faced death, he thought of Kai Blackwood. That person was the strongest of them all, supposed to have won, should have defeated the Demon King. Kai shone so brightly that everyone felt hope - hope that victory was possible.

That person had everything Atlas lacked: talent, power, and background.

'So why?' Atlas despaired. 'Why is he lying there dead? Why did he die?'

'That person wasn't supposed to- no! He couldn't have-'

Kai was supposed to be humanity's last hope; now, that hope was extinguished before Atlas's eyes.

If Kai couldn't achieve victory, how could Atlas?

Kai was leagues ahead of him, in a realm he himself could never begin to fathom.

Would this be his end? Perhaps it would have been better if he had died earlier. That way he wouldn't have witnessed the deaths of his family and comrades.

Atlas clenched his fist – from anger or regret, he couldn't tell – while every bone in his body screamed in pain. He was so weak that he couldn't even lift his blade, he stood motionless as his vision blurred.

'All of you... useless!' His thoughts turned to those who had fallen before him, including Kai.

Why did they leave him alone?

Couldn't they have held on just a little longer?

A quiet breeze stirred his hair on this battlefield of ruins. His white hair, stained with blood, blew softly; the light slowly faded from his golden-flaked eyes. If not for the world crumbling around him, it might have been a peaceful scene.

Tap. Tap.

Atlas looked up as an unknown figure approached through the fog.

'Was someone else alive? A survivor of someone of the demonic race?' As the figure drew closer, Atlas's eyes widened.

'What?'

This person shared the same hair, body, face, and eyes as Atlas - except, their eyes were a darker shade.

That seemed to be the only difference between them physically, other than their clothing and current condition.

Atlas's head drooped, unable to lift it due to exhaustion.

He could barely remain standing.

Perhaps this was a side effect of being close to death- becoming delusional.

Or maybe he had finally lost his sanity.

As Atlas continued to converse with himself the figure came closer.

The figure stopped only when directly in front of Atlas.

As he stared at the ground, the stranger's shoes entered his vision. He couldn't sense any dark or pure mana emanating from this person; in fact, he wasn't even aware of their presence until now.

The figure ensured that Atlas heard their approach.

'Who–?'

The stranger lifted Atlas's chin with a finger, forcing his tired eyes to meet theirs before offering a mocking smile. It was as if they ridiculed Atlas for his planet's demise and the life he led—a life marked by misfortune and failure.

Even their smiles looked identical.

With a light mocking tone, the figure uttered, "How unfortunate."

Those were the last words Atlas Silverthorne heard before his legs gave way and he collapsed.

Desperate to stay awake and ask this person questions swirling in his mind, he caught a glimpse of the retreating figure before everything went black.

And thus, he died like so many others on that battlefield—in vain.

'It wasn't so bad,' thought Atlas.

His wounds no longer pained him, and everything was calm and quiet until...

Clap! Clap! Clap!

'Clapping? Does hell have a welcoming ceremony?' wondered Atlas.

As the clapping persisted, confusion enveloped him. Perhaps death had affected his mind. After all, when one dies, they shouldn't hear thunderous clapping or feel the soles of their feet cramping.

"...the fuck?!"