A thousand years.

That's how long he had been alive. When Laurance thought about it, he got more depressed than he already was. He was a thousand years old, but looked like he was around his mid twenties. Everyone he loved was either dead or sealed away in another Realm. He had become so old that every twenty years he had to change his mortal identity.

Right now he was disguised as a man named Brian Griffin, hiding among the other mortals. Unlike them, however, he had a more... tragic story. He wouldn't go into detail, if you could even get a word about it out of him at all.

"I wish I could just go back to sleep for another fifty years..." He sighed, setting his hand on the ground.

He lived alone, deep in the Rionliaq. It was located in the center of the world, and had been growing for over.... well, it was around thousands of years longer than Laurance had been. It got some of the most moonlight in the world. It wasn't far from a city, so Laurance could go there to get a few things every now and then. At least here he could stretch his extra limbs, and wouldn't feel as much pain as when he was hiding the features.

Standing up, he walked to the edge of the cliff to gaze out at the forest below. He had made his home in the highest cave on the mountain, which gave him a good view of the sky and forest. Of course he didn't need these advantages, but he had made a tunnel system through the entire mountain. That way, if he ever woke up and came looking for him, he could go deeper into the forest.

Turning around, he strolled back into the cave. He folded his wide, black wings against his back to fit through the opening. His tail slithered along the rocks of the cliff, flicking as it sent small rocks and pebbles bouncing off the edge or into the cave. When he was inside of the cave, he stretched his arms. His wings jetted outwards, sending out gusts of air as they did so. They stretched as well, and Laurance yawned a bit loudly. It echoed off the walls of the cave, reminding him again of just lonely he was.

His stomach growled and rumbled, sounding like an earthquake. It literally sounded like an earthquake. It was even loud enough to make the cave shake a bit. Laurance blushed out of embarrassment, even though he was the only one there. He hated being reminded that he had been ignoring such daily needs since... well, ever since he was turned.

He had caught something earlier, an ocelot. He had killed it, of course, but hadn't eaten it yet. He was a bit nitpicky about the whole "eating the entire carcass" thing. He had been trained on how to hunt like an Ender Dragon the year after he was turned, and he had been such a prissy when it came to the eating part. But he had come to terms with the process, even if it was some... savagery. It was a very animalistic way of hunting and eating, but Laurance wasn't even human anymore.

Stepping into the cave that served as his kitchen, he sighed as he spotted the dead carcass on the stone ledge in the wall. It was an ocelot, torn in half. It was missing the head and tail, two pieces that Laurance had left at the scene of the murder. He still wasn't too keen on devouring the brains of animals, like he was some kind of Zombie.

"I can't believe that... that he could eat like this.." He gagged, picking up one half of the corpse.

He bit down into the flesh, streams of blood gushing out. His sharp fangs dug deep, and he tore his mouth away after getting a good bite on one chunk. The meat felt warm and funny in his mouth, but the taste of blood and flesh was good. Especially after all the years that he hadn't eaten, since he hadn't needed to. The Ender Crystals in the End had given him plenty of support for his life. But now that he had left the End, and wasn't able to rake any of the Ender Crystals with him, he needed to get back with a schedule for this.

He had stripped all the meat off the bones, leaving the sturdy white pieces on the ledge. His teeth were strong enough to break through them, and his stomach had acquired acids that could digest them. And, according to... him... the bones of their prey were actually quite good for them. Unfortunately, they didn't taste good... that's how he knew what bone marrow tasted like.

"I really don't wanna eat it..." He sighed, turning away from the bones.

But it's good for you, a voice reminded him, deeper and smoother.

Laurance let out a cry of pain, falling over. He caught himself on the table, using it as support. He gritted his teeth, feeling his eyes swelling up with tears. His knees felt weak, buckling and shaking under the weight of his body. He jokingly bet with himself that Garroth would have been overwhelmed by lust, seeing him in a position like that.

"Not now... please..." He begged, his voice breaking and cracking.

It appears you need to remember what Garroth told you that day, the voice huffed, already taking control of him.

"Ungrth.... please.... don't..." He pleaded, but dropped to the ground unconscious only seconds later.

It was a clear day in Aldroth, so it was only expected for Garroth to drag him out of the palace.

It hurt like all hell to move his wings, but he had to fly across the continent. He had no idea where Garroth was taking him, he just hoped it wasn't anywhere where certain things could go horribly wrong.

"Okay, we're here!" Garroth announced cheerfully, doing a flip in the air. "Just follow my lead."

Laurance wasn't allowed to put up an argument, so he just did as he was told. Soaring down towards the ground, he landed on his feet. It was a clear, open field that had a herd of cattle grazing. He looked around the field cautiously, searching for any potential threats.

"Watch and listen very carefully." Garroth whispered to him, leaning in towards his ear. "I'm gonna show you how to hunt, and how to devour your prey."

"But I already know how to eat..." He blinked slowly, raising an eyebrow. "Why didn't we bring any knives or forks, or even paper plates?"

"Oh, that's the fun part, teddy bear." He snickered, smirking.

He sat up in a cold sweat.

"Damn you, Ungrth...." He pouted, standing up from the stone floor.

I'm only trying to be more in touch with you, Ungrth insisted.

"Whatever... I'm going for a fly..." He muttered, letting out a shaky breath.

Flying was usually one of Laurance's favorite things to do. It was something he had been gifted with on the day of his transformation, even though he had taken quite a while to learn how to use his wings. It helped him figure out his surroundings, and clear his head of any bad thoughts or memories. That was what he needed right now.

Keyword? Usually.

He couldn't shake off the feeling that someone was watching him. No one from the cities ever went into the forests, claiming it was too "unsuitable" for them. Ah, yes, how scientists fucked up the planet Earth.

Tensing up in his shoulders, he looked behind him. Each time he checked to see if anyone was following him from behind, he expected too see Garroth there.

Blood staining the walls and carpet, screams erupting in the air, crazed reptilian blue eyes that desired more bloodshed and power.

A room made of stone, with a table filled with tools and needles. Shelves stocked full of potions, poisons, and alchemy ingredients.

Laurance shook his head, rubbing at his eyes. He always had nightmares about Aldroth, but they had been increasingly worse these past few days. They were more vivid and realistic, like he was repeating parts of his life that he had stored in the back of his head. If he could just forget about all of it... about Garroth... his life would have been so much easier.

But he knew he couldn't rest. Not now, or any time soon. Garroth would wake up someday, and the Doomsday would start all over again. It was just fate, the destiny they were all stuck with. Maybe there could have been a way to prevent the first Doomsday, and there would have never been all of this worrying that plagued each of them.

Oh yeah, there actually had been a way to prevent all of the future Doomsdays from happening. They could have let Garroth win the first Doomsday, which would have resulted in all the other Realms being enslaved or destroyed. Laurance would have become Garroth's personal enslaved servant, practically chained to either his bed or his throne.

Fun.

He had gotten many bitter viewpoints on things ever since his transformation. He was what people considered to be "salty", which he was perfectly fine with. Yes, he was salty. Yes, he was most likely depressed. Was he ever going to get over the fact that his heart was permanently broken, he could hardly feel anything, and he had to hide himself from the world because of what happened all those years ago? Probably not.

Slowing down to a stop, he hovered in the air, beating his wings to keep him afloat in the air. He turned around slowly, gazing out in all directions. He felt a pair of eyes watching him, burning into the back of his head. It felt all too familiar, which made him suspicious of quite a few things.

Maybe he could go in the city. Would that make the feeling go away?

He turned back to the mountain where his tunnel system had been built. He had a special kind of potion that let him look and sound like someone else, someone of his creation. He hated how similar that description was to Garroth's thinking, but that was one of the simplest explanations of the potion.

I wonder how the others are doing, he thought to himself, swooping into the cave.

Zane is probably sunbathing again, and Aphmau is asleep, Ungrth reminded him, his deep voice sounding clogged up.

Ungrth, I swear to Aphmau that if you do what I think you're about to do, he threatened, preparing himself mentally.

A horrid sound screeched through his mind, like nails on a chalkboard. It was in a different volume, what people nowadays called "earrape" or "ear rape", whichever one it was. He hated when Ungrth cleared out his throat in an audible way. Yes, Laurance had agreed to combining his soul with the corrupted Wyvern's, but he had not agreed to being mentally tormented and tortured.

Irene dammit Ungrth! He thought, groaning out loud.

The city was a loud cluster of people, traffic, bright lights, and gossip, as always.

Honestly, didn't these people ever get tired of talking about the same celebrities and movies? Laurance knew he would have snapped if he had gotten dragged into more than half of the conversations he had been eavesdropping on. As expected, there was nothing new or exciting. The same old stories of going to concerts and amusement parks.

In his person opinion, life wasn't very exciting. He didn't feel that way because he had been alive since the medieval times, which was not an exaggeration, but because he had always thought about these things while he had been chained up in the End. Sure, things like concerts and amusement parks were exciting for the individual, but the general idea was dull. Things lost their flares because of how many people had experienced them before, so they generally weren't interesting or exciting anymore. (Laurance, I feel the exact same way.)

"Did you hear about that explosion in San Francisco?" One girl, a very sassy looking teenager, asked her group of friends.

"For sure, girl!" Another girl nodded, blowing a bubble of her bright pink gum.

"Just about everyone died, except that one Witch. What was her name?" A different girl said, wearing a cheerleader outfit.

"I don't remember... let me check." The four murmured, clearly the smart one of the group.

She pulled out her phone, looking up the event. Laurance had heard of the bombing in San Francisco. It was unsettling, how much of the city had turned to rubble. It was almost traumatic how many people had died or were placed in the hospital with severe injuries. Divines, he felt the most sympathy for all the mothers and children, especially the mothers who were pregnant, and the children who had only just started to learn in schools. Something about the bombing was all too familiar, but he couldn't place his finger on it.

"They don't know her name yet, but they got a picture of her." She replied, holding up her phone so that they could see.

He couldn't make out the picture from where he was sitting, but he could make out some details. The Witch's hair was a ginger-orange color, and the eyes looked a bit reddish. She must have either just woken up or gotten out of the tub at the time of the bombings, because it looked like she was wearing some kind of robe.

"You look like someone who enjoys reading." A tall, bossy looking man in a suit said to Laurance. "Here, take this newspaper my intern brought me."

Before he could say anything, the thick bundle of paper was shoved to his chest. The suited man walked away from him in a highly dignified way, a sophisticated young woman hurrying after him with a coffee. It was clear by the way he acted that the man was a head businessman with a big ego. He felt bad that the young woman had been assigned to be his assistant, especially with how she seemed to be new to the world of internship.

Looking down at the newspaper, he pursed his lips. At least it was the colored edition of the newspaper line, and not the black and white print. The article topics weren't anything all that big. The weather forecasts for the week, which were destined to be inaccurate in all sorts of ways, mostly talked about the upcoming heat wave on Wednesday. Interviews with celebrities and directors, sports articles, diet plans, fashion tips, absolutely nothing interesting.

Then his eye caught onto it. It was an article about the San Francisco bombings. There were two pictures that were related to the article, at the top of the report. One was a picture of the rubble and ruins of the city, and the other was a picture of the Witch who had survived. Something about the woman seemed all too familiar, but maybe Laurance just missed his old friends that much.

"Millions killed during bombings in San Franciso, hundreds with severe injuries.
The bombs are said to have been planted under gas stations and grocery stores. The city lays in ruins, except for one building. The apartment is thought to have belonged to the survivor of the bombings, a young female Witch named Lucinda Pikoro."

Laurance stared at the article, slowly processing the name of the survivor. That name... it was her name, but she had died a long time ago. There was no way she was here now, not unless the modern day scientists and inventors decided to fuck even more of Earth up and make a time machine. Even though, using some commonsense, making a time machine was both impossible and unrealistic, it was definitely something that mortals would attempt. They wouldn't care that it would immediately result in the destruction of their entire existence and the entire universe as it was, since it would entirely mess up the space and time continuum.

Looking back up at the photograph of the Witch who had survived. Her orange hair, crimson eyes, and style of clothing. Her facial shape and distinguishing features. There was no mistaking it, no matter what coincidences or bloodline relations he tried to piece together.

That was Lucinda Pikoro, the same Witch who had fought alongside the reformed Divine Warriors during the first Doomsday. The same Witch who had been in the Phoenix Alliance, and had been the mentor of a lord of Pikoro Village. The same Witch who had helped Aphmau regain her memories, and had saved numerous lives.

The scariest part?

She was back from the dead, and somewhere in the world.