The Past, Present and Future(III)

Caine alternated between chaos and order, the blinking of his eyes dictating the cadence of his movements.

But his body couldn't handle the strain. He had decided to limit himself, and he had done it properly. Even his body wasn't spared—it had been brought back to the state it was in his previous life.

His flesh tore, silver blood cascading down in an endless torrent. His bones fractured and impaled his organs, yet none of it seemed to matter.

The world itself moved to heal him, refusing to let him fall, allowing him to push past all limits.

His spilled blood didn't disperse—it gathered and swirled around him like a celestial tide, mimicking his movements as if it were the moon to his star.

Veins bloomed across his frame as the strain on his body and aspects continued to mount, but he didn't stop. He kept pushing.

What Caine was attempting wasn't simple. In fact, it was suicide.