⚜ ❝ℱather's Asphodel❞

Chapter one

regret

/rɪˈɡrɛt/

verb

feel sad, repentant, or disappointed.

 ❛ ━━━━━━❪ ☂ ❫━━━━━━ ❜

It would've been nice to lay there, motionless and warm on the gentle scent of Asphodel. The calm morning breeze made his nose itch and his head light, guilty relief washing over his clammy skin. The bright sheen of sweat dripping down from his forehead, making his brown hair damp and agonizingly uncomfortable under the heat of the sun.

He purses his lip; hesitant as he slowly opens his eyes, letting darkness fill his sight instead of the clear blue sky that he envisioned upon himself.

The breeze turned into freezing temperatures. The flowers he kept exhaling on suddenly felt dry and dead under his weight. The unpleasant rustling of it as it turns to dust urging him to stand and leave the pile.

But staying under the tomb of his own sorrow was never an option anyway, so he stood. Expression blase — silence.

Then the darkness on top of him quietly swallows him whole.

 ❛ ━━━━━━❪ ☂ ❫━━━━━━ ❜

It's been more than forty years. The future, no matter what he did, it always came to a bleak end. 

He could still see it. Could still taste the metallic tang inside his mouth. Watching helplessly as one by one, his family member goes. Each timeline eagerly competes to become worse than the other. Each one puncturing holes after holes of failure into Five's heart. Arrogant as he is, it left a gaping hole of uselessness inside his very being.

He couldn't help but quiver, shaky as he placed his head on his hands. Voice nothing but a whisper as he mumbles sorry in repeat. Remembering it like a mantra. Hoping that somehow, some way, he could get some security with the forgiveness of his dead siblings.

His siblings stood around him. Circling him like crows as he kneeled, too weak to laugh at how ironic it is for him of all people to be praying for his family's safety. They were silent as their lifeless eyes pierced through his bone. Scrutinizing him for every angle.

Grim as he may be, he found it rather natural to burst into a humorless chuckle. His insanity taking its sweet time poisoning his mind. Years and years of solitude and false confidence, just so his family wouldn't worry. 

He thought that he could've done it alone. Still do, actually. 

He's already spun around and played with the time space continuum, getting Herb to make the whole of The Commission to stand by his side, well at least stand behind him, letting him do whatever he wanted for the sake of his family. It's not like he was doing anything major.

Other than trying to stop the apocalypse.

Which was the deal in the first place. 

Five played smart. He moved his chess as if he moved his entire soul alongside each piece. He plans early, making his piece wear an anchor of safety before deploying them to the battlefield.

Guns or with no guns. He'll be sure to make do of his materials to the best of his capabilities.

So until they got a new board up and working for them, Five has all the time and freedom in the world to set his game up and test his luck. Jumping from one past to another, experimenting. So long as he no longer concerns himself with The Commission. 

Five had taken a few more years of 'rest' after some jumps. Succumbing to the growing depression climbing up his spine and resting heavily on his shoulders the more he tasted blood. It hurt to see. To see his only family, his siblings, dying in multiple ways and orders. Unpredictable.