The universe was dying.
Not slowly. Not peacefully.
It was tearing itself apart.
Cracks of light spread across the sky like shattered glass, swallowing stars one by one. The ground trembled, oceans rose, and the air itself felt heavy—like it was struggling to exist.
In the middle of this collapsing world… two figures stood facing each other.
One dressed in white.
One dressed in black.
Both bleeding. Both exhausted.
Both… identical.
They charged.
Steel clashed against steel, sending sparks flying into the broken sky. Their movements were fast, almost inhuman—each strike filled with anger, pain, and something deeper… something personal.
"Come on, brother!" the one in white shouted, blocking a heavy blow. "This isn't you!"
The one in black laughed softly, pushing him back.
"Isn't me?" he said. "This… is the real me."
They circled each other, breathing heavily.
For a moment, the fight stopped.
Silence filled the ruined world.
The one in white lowered his sword slightly.
"We can fix this," he said. "Whatever happened… we can still fix it."
The one in black looked down… then back up.
There was no madness in his eyes.
Only emptiness.
"You still don't understand," he said quietly. "This world was broken from the start."
The ground beneath them cracked open further, chunks of land falling into nothingness.
"I didn't destroy it," he continued. "I just ended the suffering."
The one in white tightened his grip.
"So you became the suffering instead?"
A faint smile appeared on the black-clad man's face.
"Maybe."
And then—
He moved.
Faster than before.
Their blades clashed again, harder, louder, more desperate.
Each strike now carried the weight of everything they had lost.
Everything they had been.
Everything they could never be again.
With one final clash—
A sharp sound cut through the chaos.
The one in white stood frozen.
A blade had pierced through him.
For a second… neither of them spoke.
Then the one in black whispered:
"In another universe… maybe we could've been better."
The world around them collapsed completely.
And everything faded to white.
---
Somewhere else. Another universe.
A small room.
Messy. Quiet. Ordinary.
Headphones lay tangled on a desk. Books scattered across the floor. A faint light slipped through half-closed curtains.
On the bed… a boy lay still.
Alex Frost.
His eyes were open, staring at the ceiling.
Not thinking.
Not feeling.
Just… existing.
From outside, loud voices echoed through the house.
"Why would you spend that much money?!" a woman shouted.
"I told you, it wasn't like that!" a man replied angrily.
Their voices grew louder.
Sharper.
Familiar.
Alex didn't move.
He had heard this too many times.
Every day felt the same.
Wake up. Listen to arguments. Go to school. Get ignored… or worse.
Repeat.
A knock suddenly hit his door.
"Alex!" his mother's voice called out. "Wake up! You're getting late!"
He closed his eyes slowly.
"…I'm already awake," he muttered.
But he didn't get up.
Not immediately.
Because getting up meant facing another day.
And honestly…
He wasn't sure he wanted to.
---
At school, nothing changed.
It never did.
Alex walked through the hallway quietly, hands in his pockets, avoiding eye contact.
Laughter echoed around him—but it never included him.
To others, he was invisible.
Or a target.
"Hey, look who it is," a voice said.
Alex stopped.
Billy.
And his group.
Of course.
Billy smirked, stepping closer.
"Where you going, bro? In a hurry?"
Alex stayed silent.
That usually made things worse.
But speaking didn't help either.
Billy suddenly reached into Alex's pocket and pulled something out.
Money.
"Ohhh," Billy said, grinning. "You dropped this, right?"
His friends laughed.
Alex clenched his fist.
"That's mine," he said quietly.
Billy leaned in.
"Then take it."
He dropped the money… right in front of Alex.
Alex bent down to pick it up—
And suddenly—
A push.
Hard.
He hit the ground.
Laughter exploded around him.
"Careful, man!" Billy mocked. "World's dangerous!"
Alex stayed down for a second.
His chest hurt.
Not from the fall.
From everything else.
Slowly… he picked himself up.
Said nothing.
And walked away.
---
That evening…
Alex returned home.
Bruised. Tired.
The house was quieter now.
But not peaceful.
Never peaceful.
As he walked past the living room, his father looked up.
"Hey," he said. "What happened to you?"
Alex paused.
"…Nothing. I just fell."
His father frowned.
"Who did this?"
"No one."
"Alex—"
"I said no one."
Silence.
Then Alex walked to his room and shut the door.
Locked it.
He leaned against it… and slid down to the floor.
For a moment… his hands trembled.
Then he wiped his face quickly.
He didn't want to cry.
Not anymore.
---
He got up, put on his headphones, and lay on his bed.
Music filled his ears.
Loud enough to drown everything.
Slowly… his eyes began to close.
His body relaxed.
His mind drifted.
And just as he was about to fall asleep—
The music… stopped.
His eyes snapped open.
The room felt… different.
Too quiet.
Too still.
"What the—"
Before he could finish—
The world around him began to distort.
The walls stretched.
The ceiling cracked.
Light poured in from nowhere.
And suddenly—
Alex felt his body lift off the bed.
"What is happening?!"
The room vanished.
Everything turned white.
Endless.
Empty.
And in front of him…
A figure appeared.
A man.
Dressed in black.
With a red rose pinned to his suit.
Watching him.
Waiting.
Alex's heart pounded.
"Who… are you?"
The man smiled faintly.
"You don't need to know who I am," he said.
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
"But I know who you are."
He stepped closer.
And the air itself seemed to grow heavier.
"Alex Frost," he said. "Your world is about to end."
Alex froze.
"…What?"
The man tilted his head slightly.
"And you," he continued, "are the only one who can stop it."
Silence.
Alex stared at him.
Confused.
Scared.
Angry.
"…I think I'm dreaming," Alex said.
The man chuckled softly.
"I wish you were."
And then—
His eyes sharpened.
"Because what comes next… will change everything."
The white space began to shake.
And far away…
A crack appeared.
Like something was trying to break through reality itself.
Alex's breath caught.
"…What is that?"
The man looked at the crack.
Then back at Alex.
"That," he said quietly,
"is the beginning of your story."
---
To be continued…