The Damned Demon

Chapter 917: The Time Wraith – I Became What I Needed To Become

Asher’s chest tightened painfully, the air leaving his lungs as he turned slowly to face the haunting presence behind him.

There stood the Time Wraith, a fractured remnant of the woman he had once cherished more than life itself. Her sickly radiant-white hair shimmered like dying starlight, each strand appearing fragile enough to snap at the gentlest touch.

Jagged spikes of bone erupted cruelly from her skull and shoulders, physical reminders of endless battles against the unyielding currents of fate.

Her skin, pale as porcelain yet etched with luminous white scars, pulsed silently with a sorrowful rhythm. Each scar marked a failed attempt to reshape destiny, the consequences of tampering with the fundamental laws of reality. Her eyes blazed—two radiant voids, infinite and cold, devoid of pity, devoid of hate, filled only with a profound, unending emptiness.

The bloody trail she left upon the earth from her long, crimson-stained fingers told stories Asher dared not fathom. Around her hovered orbs of pure radiant mana, their calm, unwavering luminescence paradoxically terrifying in its purity. They were capable of annihilating entire timelines, eradicating worlds without remorse or hesitation.

He opened his mouth, his voice barely a trembling whisper.

“Aira…what has happened to you?”

She regarded him silently, her expression devoid of anger, sadness, or compassion. Instead, she seemed infinitely weary, an eternal being burdened beyond what any soul could bear.

“I’ve become what I needed to become, Asher,” she finally spoke, voice resonating softly yet echoing like a whisper through eternity. “For you.”

The weight of her words struck Asher like an icy blade, embedding deep into his heart. He stepped closer, compelled by a lingering hope, desperate to reach out to her.

“You didn’t have to do this…this isn’t what I wanted for you,” he pleaded gently. “You deserved peace, happiness—not this eternal torment. All this suffering…because of me.”

The Wraith’s gaze softened ever so slightly, yet remained distant, almost clinical.

“Your misunderstanding is natural. I’ve seen countless timelines—lifetimes upon lifetimes—where you fought, loved, and inevitably suffered. Each time I intervened, you suffered more. Every moment I sought to protect you merely prolonged your agony.”

Her voice remained calm, composed, almost academic in its clarity. Her emotions had long since dissipated, ground away by relentless centuries of watching him suffer again and again.

Asher clenched his jaw, grief choking his voice. “Forgive me, Aira. If I’d known—if I’d had any idea of the burden I placed on you…”

“You never placed it upon me,” she corrected softly, almost gently. “I chose it. You, my love, were my choice. Even as I watched you perish endlessly, I chose to believe the cycle could end. That hope, that persistent faith, transformed into my burden. Now only one answer remains. To erase all timelines.”

Asher’s heart twisted bitterly. He saw no resentment in her words, only a quiet acceptance. That hurt far worse—knowing how completely she had surrendered to this fate.

“I will never forgive myself for making you choose such a path,” he admitted hoarsely. “But this—erasing all timelines? Destroying everything—is not the answer.”

She tilted her head slightly, contemplating his words as if genuinely weighing their merit. But her eyes never wavered, still blazing with radiant, merciless inevitability.

“The countless universes I’ve traversed taught me one immutable truth,” she explained quietly. “Every path where you survive leads inevitably to unbearable loss, suffering, and death. You are cursed, beloved. Bound eternally to tragedy by the Damned One. I have tried for eons to trick or circumvent that being. But there was none but one solution to release you from your curse.”

Her words carried no malice, no blame. They were simple statements of fact, observations from countless lives and experiences.

He struggled against a rising panic, pleading, “You’ve fought so long to save me. You believed there was hope. Why stop now?”

The Time Wraith regarded him almost tenderly, a tragic shadow of compassion flickering briefly across her radiant eyes.

“Because, in every timeline, my interventions only multiplied your agony. I am no longer driven by hope, Asher. I have transcended such naive concepts. There is only one act of true compassion left—to spare you the pain of existing altogether.”

The icy finality of her words chilled Asher to the marrow. Still, he persisted, desperate to find even the smallest sliver of the woman he once knew hidden within her.

“Aira, I accept my suffering—I embrace it if necessary. But destroying everything is not compassion. It’s surrendering to despair. You are letting the Damned One win by doing this. That thing is the real enemy.”

She appeared to consider his words carefully, her expression eerily serene, her eyes burning softly.

“No,” she finally murmured. “Compassion is sparing you endless cycles of torment. This is not despair. It is my ultimate act of love, stripped of emotion and selfish desire.”

Her words stunned him into silence, realization dawning like cold sunlight.

“You…you genuinely believe this is mercy,” he breathed, voice barely audible.

“Yes,” she replied simply. “If you no longer exist, you can never suffer again. It is logic distilled through an eternity of trial and error. I have to release your soul from the wrath of time.”

Asher fought against the overwhelming anguish filling his chest. He could hardly reconcile the woman he once loved with this profound, calculating figure before him.

“Is there truly nothing left of the woman who gave me a purpose to live, who laughed with me, who shared dreams beneath endless stars?” he pleaded brokenly.

She paused, hesitating for the first time. Something stirred deep within her radiant eyes, a fleeting spark of something long gone.

“She lived countless lifetimes trying to shield you from pain,” the Wraith spoke softly, almost wistfully. “She watched you die, watched you break, watched every cherished moment torn apart before her eyes. I carry those memories…but that woman no longer remains. Her sacrifice created me.”

Guilt and pain stung Asher’s eyes, burningwithin his sockets. He stepped closer, reaching out instinctively, desperate to find any part of her still alive beneath the radiant shell.

“Then I refuse to accept this,” he said defiantly, sorrow and resolve mingling fiercely. “I refuse to believe you’ve lost all hope. If you truly carry her memories, you must remember the happiness we once shared. The love we once held. That love is stronger than any curse or cycle.”

The Wraith regarded his outstretched hand, her expression unreadable, distant. Her radiant mana orbs shifted silently around her, their purity like cold stars drifting through a dark, empty cosmos.

“Love is the very reason I must do this,” she whispered softly, as if speaking to herself. “My memories of us are the chains that bind me to this path. Because I remember, I must spare you from any further suffering. This cycle must be broken permanently.”

His heart fractured as he felt the immensity of her sacrifice—the depth of her conviction. She had become this impossible, sorrowful being because of him. He was trying to plead, to beg so hard and yet she wasn’t moved.

And now, in her twisted perception, the greatest kindness left was to erase him completely.

Yet Asher refused to surrender. He couldn’t. Not after everything she had endured.

“If your memories chain you to this choice,” he said softly, voice filled with desperate hope, “then let my memories of you free you from it. Let me bear the pain this time. You don’t have to carry it alone.”

The Wraith looked into his eyes, an eternity of silent contemplation compressed into a single, profound moment. Her expression remained resolute yet haunted, burdened yet unwavering.

“You misunderstand,” she murmured finally. “This burden cannot be shared, my love. It is mine alone. And it has led me to the only logical conclusion: if I remove your existence, I free you from torment, myself from eternal failure, and possible future timelines from endless suffering.” But then her expression began to warp into something chilling as she added, “But those who stop me or stand in my way, including you…will suffer or nothing. Is that what you truly want? To suffer more before the inevitable? Just give in without struggle and let me finish this for you. You will know a peace you have never known before.”

Asher stood frozen, helplessness clawing desperately at his soul. He saw no hate or anger, only absolute, chilling resolve—a logic refined and sharpened through countless centuries of sorrow and pain.

He realized with a heart-wrenching clarity that he was no longer speaking to a woman at all, but a being forged of cold, relentless truths, bound inexorably to her terrible mission.

But still, Asher clung desperately to hope, to love. The human part of him refused to abandon the last echo of the woman he loved.

“Then I will defy your logic,” he declared softly, fiercely. “Even if it costs me everything, I won’t let you erase me. Because somewhere deep beneath that infinite pain and sorrow, I still see you, Aira—and I refuse to let go,” The Void Reaver manifested in his hand, the blade blazing with dark green flames as he added, “So I am going to bring my Aira back even if it means I have to hurt you.”

The Time Wraith’s lips began to curve into a cruel, crazed smile, “You have no idea how badly you are going to regret those words…again.”