Eternal Desolation

The inscription on my tombstone is the universe’s ninety-thousandth heartbeat.

His immortality is one grand funeral.

His fingertips buried galaxies, his sword severed eras, yet amid the first flames of a newborn universe, he heard his own bones singing. At the end of the River of Time, a hundred thousand ice coffins held a joint trial. The verdict contained only one line:

You are sorrow and silence themselves.

Why keep running?

The temporal sand in his chest is the epitaph carved by the Time Sovereign. When the Nether River cocooned in his palm, the Lightwing Clan knelt and worshiped him as a god. In his left eye, the Time Sovereign’s gears turned, erasing all things. In his right, the epitaphs of every civilization from the old world drifted and sank.

“Will you still slay the gods?” came a rasp from within an ice coffin.

He tore open his divine body and pulled out the throbbing spark of the Ω Protocol.

“This time, I want the Time Sovereign’s laboratory

to toll my funeral bells.”