To the end and back: A short collection of stories

The dead have no need for a heart

He never expected something like this to happen. He did not expect her to die. And yet, she did. She was not like Him. He was immortal, she was not. It was obvious she would die. And why was He so struck by her death anyways? She was just some random human He had took under His protection. He did not care. He should not have cared. Why should He? The dead have no need for a heart.
And yet. . .
[̲̅A][̲̅n̲̅][̲̅d̲̅] [̲̅y̲̅][̲̅e̲̅][̲̅t̲̅]. . .
She looked so pure, all in white, as He placed her fragile body in the crystal coffin. But no, that was not her. That was just an empty shell. It was dead, just like He was. It did not care for His tears. And why should it? The dead have no need for a heart.
[̲̅a̲̅][̲̅n̲̅][̲̅d̲̅] [̲̅y̲̅][̲̅e̲̅][̲̅t̲̅]. . .
He wept. Why? Why did he do that? She was noone to Him.
[̲̅a̲̅][̲̅n̲̅][̲̅d̲̅] [̲̅y̲̅][̲̅e̲̅][̲̅t̲̅]. . .
He broke the game. Again, and again, He kept on breaking the prison that kept Him locked inside for eons, breaking out into freedom. He meant to get out. The act that He never dared do, to finally escape. . . She got Him to do that. The rage from her death did. It made His mind foggy, the thought of the one person He had cared about dead, no, it could not be, it was not true, He can find her if He looks for long enough, it can't be true, it must not be. . .
[̲̅a̲̅][̲̅n̲̅][̲̅d̲̅] [̲̅y̲̅][̲̅e̲̅][̲̅t̲̅]. . .
It was. She was gone. And nothing could replace the emptiness. It broke His mind into two pieces. And the two were the Hero and the Other, the light and the dark, both pieces of the one who created the endless worlds, but worst enemies to each other.
[̲̅a̲̅][̲̅n̲̅][̲̅d̲̅] [̲̅y̲̅][̲̅e̲̅][̲̅t̲̅]. . .
They escaped. Both of them. They have done what He could not. And when they came out, they greeted them. They became their brothers and sisters, their best friends, all but one, who was the Caretaker. He had no other name for them, nor a face for the world.
[̲̅a̲̅][̲̅n̲̅][̲̅d̲̅] [̲̅y̲̅][̲̅e̲̅][̲̅t̲̅]. . .
They shall never go back to being the one, for His pain was too much for them to bear. And even though the dead have no need for a heart, he had one. And it lead to his downfall, and the death of his power in the world. And from today, His enemies, seeing how He fell, spread lies in whispers, and the beings hated him. All but the undead, the walkers, and the tall harvesters of the dark, who He had created, and loved Him as their father.