Michael could smell the scent of roses filling the atmosphere, enticing him with their fragrance. It was as if the scent called to him, beckoning him to follow suit; like a trail waiting to be traced.
He held two blue roses in his hand, his grip on their stalks soft yet firm. He walked along the grassy fields of the forest landscape while humming a tune from his childhood; a tune only he remembers somberly now. But in the past, he wasn't the only one who did...
As he continued to tread towards his destination along the humid, grassy fields, Michael recounted the bright days of his joy-filled youth with his younger siblings; Akira and Shawn. He remembered how they would have fun together in forests such as these, playing hide and seek amongst the trees and following it up with a game of tag to confirm the winner. He even still remembers those days when he played soccer and chess with them, as if it were merely yesterday.
So many joyful memories; too many to even count...
Yet all those memories came crashing down on him with a heavy impact as he eventually reached his destination, and came face to face with the grim reality of what now lay before him...
"Here lies the greatest brother and sister duo the universe has ever known... Forever rest in peace, beloved Akira and Shawn Mercer; best friends, and best siblings to Michael Mercer."
Just the mere sight of those words was more than enough to cause Michael's heart to feel like a metal post smacked with a hammer; the vibrating frequencies of his various immeasurable emotions spreading throughout his body upon impact. Though Michael always came to this place, he still cannot bear to even face the fact that his beloved siblings' blood is on his hands; blood that to Michael...
Still feels fresh to this very day.
He still couldn't help but think and rethink what he could've done that day in the final circle of hell over and over again, replaying and rewinding the memory; reanalyzing and reconstructing every single second of it hoping he could somehow alter this insanity...
Yet every arrow pointed in the same direction of fate; unchanged and ever agonizing.
Michael was (and still is) "The Revenant"; Death's heir and harbinger, and supernatural protector and enforcer. Yet here he is, kneeling down in defeat with his head hung low before the tombstone of two members of his family. He knows full well the blame is on him and him alone, yet here the future stands in the present; taunting and mocking him with the reality of his failure.
He was supposed to be the defender of those who cannot defend themselves, the eradicator of crime and the powerful harbinger of the inevitable fate of all...
Yet all those titles meant and mean nothing as he is now here, powerless to change what was. His teal eyes that once vibrantly lit up in the darkness? Nothing but faded shades. His power as the Revenant; Death's blade and warrior? Completely useless in this case. So many lives lost because of the sins of his past; sins he wishes he could've amended for sooner... But did so too little, too late. Although his black trench coat and multi-layered black tux physically shielded his body from the cold winds of the breezy forest, they did nothing to warm his cold, broken spirit. There he knelt before the tombstone, with the taste of his failure in saving not just his siblings but also his friends, family and beloved, poisoning him down to the very depths of his heart.
No supernatural powers, high-tech nanosuit, or all-powerful contract can change what now taunts Michael to his face...
HIS failure.
Yet still, the now wandering entity of death somehow managed to crack a smile. A small, forced, yet visible smile. From that alone, he felt a flickering flame begin to spark from within him; rising and spreading all throughout. As he put to rest upon the tombstone the two blue roses he held in his hand, he whispered a small prayer. Or at least, what he could consider as one... A prayer of peace for his siblings, wherever their souls now rest. Though Michael found it a shame that he wasn't the one who was able to take them to their final resting place, he (though hesitantly) stood up with the same smile on his face. He knew in his heart after all these years of being the one who brings the end, that death is never the end of the journey.
Death is merely a gateway; an opening for something new; a domino set in place to trigger an occurrence. Michael knew and learned long ago that as long as a person of being has not wasted their life on evil and greed, they should very well not fear death's embrace.
Michael then began to walk back to the path from whence he came. Though the scars of his past cannot be washed away, he vowed full well to himself that he will wear them as a badge of honor. He will wear every success, failure, joy and sorrow with pride, never even daring to hide them away in shame. Though his failure may continue to mock him with his every visit to this rose-filled atmosphere, he will welcome such mockery. After all, not even shame, failure, or even a finale can truly end the spark of life. He then remembered his family mantra as he laid eyes upon the familial crest he wore on one of his gloves; a mantra written in an ancient language containing everlasting wisdom...
"La mort n'est pas la fin," or in other words...
"Death is not the end..."
"Monika?" Michael spoke up as he walked along the path.
"Yes, boss?" Michael's AI partner perked up as she appeared from the holographic projector of his wrist.
"Next mission, please," Michael said with a smirk.
"You got it, boss!" Monika replied with a bright smile on her face as her holographic form blinked out of view.
As Michael's ebony nanosuit began to coat his entire body with its spreading embrace, for the first of many firsts to come...
He smiled behind its helmet's shadowy visage, prepared to tackle his next mission. From the shadows of despair and surrender...
He rose back up once more into the light of hope and infinality; onward from the depths of what should've been the end...
To a new beginning.
