TayLawJorg

Ten Years after the Descent to Earth of a Radical And All-Knowing System Called Arkadia, Life has changed in ways we could only surmise given we lived in a comic book. People with superpowers, Monsters, Heroes and Villains, Hell, there were even Other races coming out of the woodwork like Elves and such. Still, it wasn’t until The Extraterrestrials Invaded that things went from bad to worse. 

Yet, as if hope truly existed, 5000 of us Earthlings were given the opportunity to Head back into the past, only we didn’t know at the time there was a cost for doing so. By sending us back, the Descent Clock began, as Arkadia was pushed 10000 years into the Future, and it was up to us Returners to get things set back on course by changing the past to mold the Future.

And I, being a boogieman of a Villian in what I dubbed the Origin Timeline, have come up with thousands of potential ways to affect my new life, like stealing popular franchises to earn some long-term funds or….hunting down notorious Serial Kills and Solving long-standing Cold cases I had been curious about since I was a teenager.


**THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION; ANY CHARACTERS OR EVENTS THAT OCCUR ARE PURELY FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES**

Additional TAGS: #MultipleRegressors,#IntelligentMC

The Villain's RE:Life

While I'd like to say it didn't take me long to catalog my gains from the Instance, that would be a blatant and bald-faced lie. With Brenden standing on my shoulder and commenting on my pace every step of the way, the process, which I originally viewed as therapeutic, was mind-numbingly agonizing.

What should have been a simple and relaxing task that I could complete throughout the evening took me two whole days because my brother refused to leave me alone.

"About damn time; I thought you'd never finish up," Brenden chuffed while watching me place the final item, a stack of dried monster pelts, on a shelf in the storage facility.

"Brenden…tell me something…" Slowly placing the material down and double-checking the tag I had used to mark its characteristics, I turned and faced my brother with an expressionless face.

"How many fingers do you think I could cut off your hands yet still allow you to throw punches or hold a sword."

The Days Leading to April 20th 1999 (2)