Birth of Dark — Chapter 4: Singularity

I emerged from the shadow and gasped for breath. Fuck. It's tiring. I was already tired after the battle. My mask lost all its color. I strolled for a while, then rested beneath a tree.

Not using any color made me feel defenseless, but I needed to rest. Only then would I be able to fight in the event of a sudden conflict.

Crack!

My senses spiked as I looked up. It was like the skies had cracked. Suddenly, through the cracks, a vast circular craft revealed itself. On its button was the Phoenix logo.

I felt the forest also changed. Suddenly, it seemed very far away, but I could see the water. 'An ocean.' Previously, the forest felt endless, but now there was an ocean. Was there a barrier around the forest, and did something break it?

'The opposition Phoenix Council has discovered the experiment?"

Internal struggle in the government? Then what will happen to us? If the ones experimenting, the Rem Alliance, win here, then we would all be wiped out to erase proof. If the Phoenix Council, who are strong believers of 'only those of proper bloodline should wield divine', win, we get killed because of the power of 'Colors.'

Do I die either way?

Is my theory even correct? Maybe it's just a massive craft sent for negotiation? I don't know much about politics, after all; the little I do know is from the whispers of my classmates. So, perhaps I am overreacting.

Suddenly, my eyes narrowed as several small loads were dropped by the spacecraft.

I instantly looked towards the ocean. With little stamina, I blended into the shadows and rushed towards the water.

'Freaking bomb!'

The bombs rapidly drop. They were black and compact, all featuring the Phoenix logo.

While traveling, I rapidly thought of ways to survive underwater. I can use 'Blue', but I won't last very long. I just need to remain underwater till the bombing stops.

Soon, a sonic boom spread throughout the forest. The colorful leaves, the tall trees, and roots, in an instant, all of them turned into nothingness by domes of fire created by the bomb.

My mask emitted a red light. I covered myself in fire. The ocean was not that far. The impact of the bomb flew me in the direction of the sea. Soon, I was submerged. My mask emitted blue light. The water pressure rapidly pulled me away from the island. 'Shit, shit. It burns.' Even the cooling water did not help soothe my back, which was burned from the impact of the bomb. 'Fuck. Those bombs were more powerful than the immunity given by 'Red'. Even an indirect impact from a distance nearly killed me.'

◈◈◈

In the Headquarters of Rainbow Island.

◈◈◈

"Rainbow Island? Why is it even called Rainbow Island? There are also white and black leaves, so how can it be a rainbow? Stupid name?" A tall man wearing a red suit and black goggles said. His name was Vortex.

Most of the computers were broken, and soldiers were all sliced in half. Blood was everywhere. Only 3 people remained standing.

One was the green-eyed, handsome trainer, "Vortex." He ignored Vortex's ramblings and asked what he always wanted to ask. "At this point, I am really curious. It has not even been a year since your debut. Yet you are one of the top heroes, the greatest scientific mind, and somehow discovered the impossible to discover Rainbow Island."

"Luck." Vortex smiled.

The trainer scoffed. "Tell me, did you even invent the nanobots yourself? The technology you've introduced into this world has only caused chaos. It's something that shouldn't be technologically possible for at least a century," the trainer added. "But we will find out how. Don't underestimate the Rem Alliance. We always uncover the truth."

"They certainly haven't in 13 different timelines," Vortex said, but before the trainer could hear Vortex's words, the trainer was sliced into so many pieces that not even blood could be seen.

Vortex approached the girl who was searching through the last remaining computer. She had long silver hair and white eyes, and she wore heavy leather boots and a black cloak. "There should be enough evidence here. Am I not awesome? There is no problem I cannot solve."

She hesitated before saying, "It's weird. There is no data on Project Rainbow. I cannot tell what exactly they were trying to produce here."

"Not everything needs to be known. They have never achieved what they wanted. Not once. Anyways, I am going to head home." Vortex yawned.

"Look at this, two of them escaped," she added. "The test subjects were injected with nanobots that could be tracked. The bombing no doubt erased most out of existence, but two escaped into the ocean. I don't think they will survive long in the waves, though."

"What?" Vortex lost his indifferent expression. "Not one? But two." His fists clenched.

"Yeah, one of them is James, the son of." Before she could finish, Vortex interrupted. "The other. Who's the other?" She was surprised by Vortex's behavior.

"Some kid named Alister." She read through the file stored in the database. "He had been sentenced to be hanged in the city of Moreal. But under agreement with the Rem Alliance, he became part of the Rainbow Project. Interesting. He and his elder sister were actually considered among those with the potential to receive the 'Blessings.' Oh. His sister was murdered, it seems, by students, and he later killed those 5 students by stealing chemicals from the chemistry lab and making a potent potion. Hm. Smartest in the science department. It says he wanted to be a Doctor but was also talented in math, chemistry, and psychology."

"What's his address?" Vortex asked.

◈◈◈

"You don't need to change," the soft female voice said. "You are enough as you are now. You are my son." She cried as she embraced him.

.

Memories. I am really seeing my life flash before my eyes as I am dying. It's painful. The water has entered through my mouth to my lungs. I cannot use 'Blue.' I lost my ability to do so long before. I have been drifting among the waves for a long time. It's so painful that I wish I were dead. So I don't have to feel anything. I cannot even tell what's more painful, the pain from drowning or the memories running in my head..

I wonder when it all went wrong…

.

"Both of your children are blessed. They have an incredible fate ahead of them," the priest from the local church told my parents. My parents weren't devout believers in the 'God of Fate,' the Almighty, who is commonly worshipped and praised as 'Lord.' But from that day on, they became devout. My father was a gardener, and my mother a maid. We were a small, struggling family. Food prices kept climbing, so many nights we went to bed hungry. My parents' jobs were unstable, and the landlord often harassed them for not paying rent on time. We got evicted multiple times. Despite this, somehow, my parents managed to send me to a local school. I hated school. My uniform was old, and I often had no lunch. I was malnourished and had no background, making me an easy target for bullying. But I endured and studied because I was the hope of my family. Later, I enrolled in the top school in my city, Moreal Academy, at the age of 13, earning a full scholarship due to my grades. My sister was born healthy but later became deaf and mute, so she couldn't attend school. She also worked as a maid. Despite her challenges, she was kind. She learned to read lips and sign language, and I learned from her as well. Sometimes, she would save some money for me to buy textbooks.

Despite all the problems, I never saw myself as a victim. There are many others in our city who are struggling as well. Due to an unstable government, many end up jobless. I was always happy when I ranked first in school, not because of pride—in fact, being ranked first made me a target of envy, especially from those of the middle and upper classes—but because it made my parents and sister proud. It gave them hope. I wanted to become a doctor and help improve our lifestyle. That's why I kept going.

Then one day, the priest reappeared at our house and told my sister that she would be able to work in the church as a 'Blessed of the Lord.' At that moment, this was the happiest thing that had ever happened to us.

That meant my sister would be given a house and have a stable income higher than our parents'. I remember the joy on my older sister's face when she, using sign language, said, "Now, father, mother, won't have to endure landlord launt's yelling. Alister won't have to go to school in torn shoes. We can finally eat something other than hard bread." That day, my sister and my parents felt the same happiness. But… I only smiled. I no longer needed to be the hope of my family. My heart felt light. We moved into a small two-story house and ate proper food. Father and mother became churchgoers and regularly attended prayer services. My sister helped prepare rituals, cared for the elderly, and assisted those in need, along with helping the priests with small chores.

Meanwhile, I thought of something I never should have thought. 'Why must I struggle?' This question never left my head. School was a nightmare for me. I had endured till now because of poverty. But I suddenly lost my reason to endure. 'Bones, skinny, ugly, creepy,' those were all my nicknames. I would often get beaten, yet I never fought back. When my parents would inquire, I did not answer. I did not want them to know. They were finally happy after all. Soon, I lost interest. Interest in everything. I would remain in a corner. I met with no one. I talked with no one. But I still came to school. Because I couldn't let my parents know about my situation in class. At some point, I wanted to kill myself. After all, due to my sister, my family would be good even without me. I wanted to take the easy route out. I was weak.

One day, a senior had approached me in class. He told me he had seen my sister at the church and wanted me to invite her to the student council to help one of their members who had been injured playing basketball. I was weak. I felt suspicious about his intentions, but he promised me that the student council would help me in school. They would make sure no one made fun of me. Besides, my sister was the 'Blessed of the Lord.' What could possibly happen to her?

Yet two days later, I found my sister, naked, bruised, and lifeless, on the student council's desk.

.

Days? Maybe weeks? How much time passed? Why am I not dead? My eyes only see darkness. I can only hear the sound of waves. At night, the water is so cold that my skin becomes numb, while in the day, the sunlight penetrates the water and burns my skin. I should be dead, but it's as if my soul refuses to leave my body.

'Please, someone..anyone..kill me.'

.

.

On one of the shores, a fisherman caught a small, naked boy who appeared to be around 13 or 14 years old. A mask covered his face, and they couldn't remove it.

"Sheesh. What's with this kid?" We should inform the police. The fishermen agreed and went to bring the police, but by the time they returned, the boy was no longer there.

.

I can hardly believe it. I ran through the streets, which I knew very well. This was the city where I was born—Morael. It's located between the cliffs and the sapphire sea of the Eastern Rim. They say this was the birthplace of the 'Lord,' and the Church suppresses any aspect of the supernatural. At least, that's what I heard. But I don't think it's true, considering I can feel the power of 'Colors' inside me. Perhaps, the rumor that this is the Lord's birthplace is also a fabrication created to attract tourists.

Morael is a quiet city. People visit here to escape the chaos of the technologically advanced mid and inner cities.

I once studied hard, like most kids here, to get enrolled in university in the mid or inner cities, and leave this place to provide my parents a better lifestyle.

I am happy, for once, to return to this place.

I have no clue how I survived in the sea after drowning in the ocean for so long, but I don't care for now. The forest was bombed, and I don't think they would think someone would have escaped and survived in the sea. I should be dead in the records, right…that means I can return home?...

Home…

I stopped…

Standing before me was my house, a small two-story building with a white gate. Memories flooded my mind once again. The house looked the same as before — shattered glass and flickering lights—vulgar words painted on its walls shaming my sister. My parents would always paint over the shameful writing, but every night, someone would paint the words of lies again and again.

After my sister was found dead, they changed her story; they painted her as a 'Lord's Blessed' who pleased others for money. The very priest who recruited her spread false rumors. Her death was painted as a well-deserved punishment and an example of why commoners should not be allowed to become a Blessed. They seemed to have been a bigger ploy; my family just happened to be an unfortunate victim. At the time, we did not understand. My parents cried and protested in court, in public, crying until their tears dried and screaming until they lost their voice. The student council members who murdered my sister used their family influence to force my parents to keep quiet by using me as a hostage and providing little money.

My situation in school worsened. I was branded as the brother of a disgrace. I didn't care. In my mind, all I could picture was my sister's lifeless eyes looking at me. I felt ashamed. Ashamed of myself. Ashamed of my weakness. At the time, the school provided me with a sheet of paper that I had to turn over to my therapist. I didn't know what I was thinking as I wrote that note. But as I wrote, I realized one thing. I have always feared but never taken any action. A coward, I called myself. I realized I do not even have the guts to kill myself.

I became self-aware that the only thing I will ever do is fear, no matter the circumstance. I can neither kill nor change myself.

But seeing my sister's lifeless eyes made the clouds fade. My vision became clear. I could tell now. What is it that I want? All my life, what I have strived for.

Now, I started to question my awareness. The question in my mind began to morph again.

"When did I ever truly strive for change?"_____

I had only ever endured, but after I decided to change and take action. They let us keep the house, and with the little money they had given, I used it to change myself. There was little time, so I pushed myself, forcing myself to eat more, run in the mornings and evenings, exercise, and study.

Every day, I pushed myself. Months went by, and my father became depressed while my mother grew sick. Because of my sister's reputation, they couldn't find jobs and grew more and more depressed each day. I didn't see it at first. I was blinded, caught up in trying to better myself, and my desperate need for revenge clouded my judgment. I failed to take care of the two most important people in my life.

One day, I came home a little late. My mother was waiting near the gate, worried as I returned with injuries on my body and torn clothes. She hugged me and, while crying, said, "You don't need to change." She spoke softly. "You are enough as you are now. You are my son."

Maybe it was the warmth of her hug or the coldness of her tears, but it finally opened my eyes. 'Mother..you must have seen why I was changing. You must have been worried that I might do something stupid. After losing my sister, I should have been their pillar of support. I should have noticed their worries. But what was I doing? Tears fell from my eyes. I wanted to cry and say, "Don't worry, mother. I won't do anything that may bring tears to your eyes. I will take care of you and Father. I will be your pillar of support." But words would not leave my throat as today, I had murdered the ones who defiled my sister.

As I looked at my crying mother, I finally thought.

What will happen to them if I get arrested?

If society once again blames them for their son's actions.

'Oh, how stupid and blind I had been.' Tears kept welling in my eyes, 'What have I done?'

.

Why did I choose to be a guinea pig rather than be hanged? It was because I didn't want my parents to see me in the execution chamber. I couldn't imagine the look in their eyes as they would see their son getting hanged. Wouldn't it cause them even more suffering?

I wonder if, once born into this world, the ordinary truly ever get to be happy?

.

Here I was back in Moreal. I wonder if my mother has lost more weight. I hope Dad didn't start drinking.

As I opened the gate and headed inside.

I heard the sound of droplets. My pupils dilated as I saw a red stream of blood down the stairs. My mother was extending her arm towards the floor, attempting to reach my father, who was on the floor covered in blood. Before their arms could meet, they lost their life.

"Father. Mother..." I fell on my knees, as I crawled near them with tears in my eyes.

Perfect timing, isn't it?" A man revealed himself from above the stairs. "I waited till you arrived nearby. You know, before killing your parents. Hehe, I had a hunch you would survive. Out of the 13 timelines I experienced, I raided Rainbow Island four times. In all those times, only one person escaped—James. Yet, somehow, in this timeline, you survived. Why?"

His words didn't reach my ear.

I screamed, seeing my parents' lifeless eyes.

"Why?" "What did they do to deserve this?" I asked. I did not know who I was asking. Was it to the guy above the stairs, or was it to the Lord whom my parents prayed to before? Even in death, one of my mother's arms was clenched to the Lord's cross. After losing both of her children, maybe the only solace she found was in prayer. Yet, she lied there lifeless. If only my sister had never been chosen as the Blessed of the Lord. What meaning is there in faith if all it brings is misery? Perhaps we would struggle in our one-room studio condo, getting yelled at by our landlord, but we would be together and happy.

I reject it.

I reject the faith that brings nothing but tragedies.

I reject a world that only knows how to use others for its gain.

What meaning is there in living in such a cursed world?

.

I took the Lord's Cross from my mother's arm and stabbed my neck. As blood flowed down my neck, I grabbed both my parents' arms and brought them closer to my cheeks.

"Maybe in the afterlife, all of us can be happy, Father. Mother. Sister." I cried.

"What a shame. For a moment, I thought there was an anomaly in Fate." Vortex sighed.

Shook! The ground, the house, and the entire continent shook.

"A singularity is being formed." Vortex looked around. "I sense an Angel lurking nearby. Reveal yourself." He then looked forward. The boy's mask was rapidly changing color.

Red. White. Black. Blue. Green. They kept changing till they blended into a deep darkness. Like a void had been opened inside the mask.

Words materialized in front of Vortex's eyes.

❖Did you truly think you could tempt Fate and walk away?❖

❖That you could whisper the Lord's name with stained lips, and twist His Blessed Ones as if they were yours to command?❖

Vortex laughed. "Trying to scare me with words, little angel. Better try something else."

But the words kept materializing.

❖Tell me, child of hubris—Did the gift of Regress swell your pride so wide, you thought yourself beyond consequence?❖

❖That you could kill, consume, desecrate—while His name still lingers on your breath?❖

❖Did you think the earth would not remember?❖

"But of course," Vortex smirked. "I have seen the truth of this world. The Lord is dead. His believers are no more than puppets for me to play with. I am the truth of this world. The one who will someday be a God. A true God." He spread his arms. "Now, little angel, if the Lord really has any power, let's see. Nothing? No more than words." He laughed.

❖...Have you already forgotten one of the sacred names of the Great One?❖

❖Tell me… in this exact moment, in this very house, do you truly believe you stand here by your own will? ❖

The skies grumbled.

❖…❖

❖Look Before Thee.❖

Vortex looked at the boy. Something was strange. The void was attracting him. "The Rainbow Project?" In his mind, he connects some dots.

❖He Who Knows Not The Truth, Yet Walks Upon It.❖

❖He Who Is Blessed By The Lord—Yet Destined To Raze His Temples.❖

A black sphere appeared between the boy and Vortex.

"A singularity." Vortex panicked.

❖A Singularity Born Of Ruin❖

❖The Devil Born To Cleanse The World.❖. •

"It can't be…" His eyes widened as he fixated on the abyss. He wanted to close his eyes, but he couldn't. He tried to teleport away, but he couldn't. "You cannot steal... my Fate..." Vortex struggled with words. But in the abyss, he saw the truth no being was permitted to see. "The Lord's ali—"

His words were severed. His flesh, his clothes, even his soul, fragmented into formless shards, flung outward.

.

.

"Father. Mother. Sister." For a moment, I felt their warmth. But my breathing grew harsher as I realized I had woken up before my parents' corpses.

"No, no." The cross had returned to my mother's arm.

I took it again and stabbed my neck.

.

.

"No.." I cried as I once again woke up in front of my parents' corpses. "Why?" I stabbed myself again.

.

.

Again and again, I kept waking up in front of my parents' corpses, as if I were cursed to see this sight forever. Their blood remained fresh as if time had stopped.

How many times did I kill myself? 20? 30? Yet pointless. Only after my heart numbed to the pain did I look around. I believe there was someone else in this room. The murderer? But when I looked, I only saw pieces of his flesh and fabrics of his clothes. The only thing that remained was a small notebook. I did not know what happened.

I looked at the notebook that had somehow managed to fly beside me.

Opening the notebook to the first page. There, it was written- 'Record of Insanity from every Regression. Written by the Great Vortex.'

◈◈◈

Reden City

◈◈◈

The Grand Hall of Threads, as it's known among the faithful, is the heart of the Church of Fate in Reden City—the most revered sanctuary in all of Redsphere's Inner Cities.

At the center of the cathedral's sanctum lies the Fate Altar—a 3-meter-long monolith known as The Unbroken Cross. It is a sleek obsidian-black slab inlaid with glowing silver veins, said to pulse gently with energy when touched by those "Blessed" by the Lord. Every sermon, every ritual, and every soul that enters the church orbits this sacred artifact like planets to a star.

Historical records—sacred and secular—agree on one thing: The Unbroken Cross has never moved, never cracked, never faded. It has remained fixed in that exact spot for over a thousand years, untouched by the countless wars, plagues, and political shifts that have razed and rebuilt the city around it.

The Cross does not move.

Fate does not bend.

And the Will of the Supreme Almighty cannot be rewritten.

But today, when the whole continent shook, the Cross fell and was turned upside down. Only two people saw this event—the Supreme Pontiff and his attendant.

"Your Holiness," the attendant trembled as he fell to the ground, witnessing this sight. "What. What does this signify?"

The Supreme Pontiff calmly closed his eyes. "The Devil," he whispered.