The wind whispers through the air as rain falls from the sky, each droplet guided by the breeze, landing gently on the soil beneath us all. A figure—a tall figure—walks within the soothing rain. With each step he takes, the puddles tremble, splashing as if children were playing. If only it were children... and not “HIM”.

The tyrant walks among the streets of a desolate village. Who “HE” had laid waste upon. His reason of doing so were….unclear… perhaps they could never be explained. Jake looks around the area, as if he were a terminator, sent to bring about the extinction of the planet Akon. The father looks around, carefully scanning the area for any form of life. Walking and walking, Jake continued to search, every corner and every part of the planet.

In a crumbling but still standing cellar, a family of 4, the last remaining Akonians, hid in total silence. As they dare not to make even the slightest sound, as they fear, HE might hear them. The family heard the loud footsteps coming from above the cellar, they held their breaths, hoping he would leave. The footsteps grew louder and louder, sweat began to run down the heads of the family, they covered their mouths, fearing for the worst. They closed their eyes, trying to relax themselves from the tension, sooner or later, the footsteps gotten lighter and lighter, until the point where there were no more footsteps to be heard, “HE” had left the area.

The family let out a sigh of relief, the father carefully poked his head out of the cellar entrance to check if the area was clear, once he had made sure, he brought his family out of the cellar and towards a Beta Pod to escape the planet as it was no longer safe. The family got out of the cellar and began moving towards the Pod Bay, located near an underground bunker. The path to the bunker was quite a distance, but they had to try, to survive.

**Moments passed, they got to where the bunker is located at. Right as when they felt a sense of joy, their smiles were soon wiped away by the sound a footsteps coming from behind them. The father turned around, his eyes widened, sweat slowly running down his head. And there the father saw, int he great distance, **HIM—the most feared being of the entirety of Dimension X, whose name is never dared to be said out loud; whose presence so terrifying, even cosmic beings are brought their knees, a being of true nightmare.

His body was covered in scars—with each being a reminder of the battles he fought when he first arrived at Dimension X, none of which could claim his life. His muscles were denser, harder than any known mineral in the entirety of Dimension X.

The tyrant wore no shirt, only ragged, dirt-stained pants that clung to him like remnants of a past long forgotten. His eyes remained hidden behind a tattered blindfold, worn with age. Though blindfolded, he could still see—not with sight, but through a power known as True Sight, allowing him to perceive the lingering energy within every soul, able to hear the world through the planet itself: the vibration of every footstep, every breath, every heartbeat—he felt it all through the ground beneath him.

“His name… was Zorrath, The Wanderer of X. A man lost to time. A man forgotten by the world he once called his own. A man trapped forevermore. A man who had lost even the memory of his origin.

Standing beyond them was Zorrath. To the family, he was nothing less than impending doom—a plague upon all worlds. Wherever he walked, death followed. They knew his presence. They knew the kind of man he was, and how Dimension X had twisted him into the tyrant he had become.

Zorrath stood 5 ft 10 in, his lean body scarred from countless battles. A ragged blindfold covered his eyes, hiding whatever lay beneath—just as the scars upon his body told of his arrival in Dimension X. He  was no giant, yet his very presence could bring them to their knees. Even cosmic beings did not dare to cross him, for none wished to stand in the way of Zorrath’s will.

The family stood frozen, trembling as their minds raced for what to do next. Zorrath did not move—he was simply standing there. Or so they thought. The moment the father blinked, it was already too late. Zorrath was fast—faster than light itself. His speed was so absolute that only the blink of an eye could allow the mind to comprehend where he had gone. But by then, it was already hopeless.

His scarred hand rose, poised to deliver a death by touch—slow, agonizing, searing the father alive. Though blindfolded, Zorrath needed no eyes; his True Sight pierced through flesh, soul, and fear alike. Zorrath knew exactly where to strike.

But before his palm could reach the father’s chest, the family vanished into thin air. For the first time, Zorrath hesitated, confusion flickering across his features. Then he felt it—a presence. Another.

Zorrath turned his head. The family now stood at a distance, paralyzed with shock. And beside them, cloaked in black, stood the one responsible.

Zorrath’s lips curled into a grin. He knew exactly who it was.

“Ha. So… you finally arrive. I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever come, Jake.”

Jake, Jake, stood silent for a moment. The family, however, froze in disbelief. They had heard the name, but could it truly be him? Their hearts pounded with uncertainty.

Then, Jake seized his robe and cast it aside, leaving only the mask upon his face, he then turned his head slightly toward them.

“Go.”

The single word, spoken in that calm, steady tone, shattered their doubts. The Akonians knew that voice—they had heard it in stories, in warnings, in hope.