"Ah, how I wish I could have realized sooner, I even had the chance to fix it all. I would have never had to take this path, a lonely existence, a release nowhere to be found, clutching to what little I have left."

Sitting in the expanse of space, a coalescing of stars, facing a bright blue planet, there a man floats thinking of all the bad, the evil, the hurt...everything that he wouldn't have had to go through by simply, opening up, simply reaching out a hand begging for help, and instead of silencing it, boasting on high to all thoughts that believed in him, calling out for them, a soul that needed help...no place to go, alone in its own solitude, becoming something he swore he would never have.

Declining fate, fighting to become so powerful, he lost everything. Purpose, love, hope, everything that made him...had disappeared. With all this power, he could do nothing to fix what had already been done...yet he knew he could change it; however, it wouldn't be him per se, he would take all the power he had, drawing everything that made up all of him, the love he no longer felt, the purpose that he once had, the hope that once lit up his dark path; with even his very own existence he would make it, so it never happened again. 

Opening his beautiful, deep-dark blue eyes, cascading with golden ichor flecks, radiant orange, condensed violet, fluorescent green, and bloodred, he dully look forward, slowly gaining a light that had long since been lost. Swaying at shoulder length, white hair shines brilliantly, reflecting the light of the stars in every direction.

Gathering every single ounce of his power, drawing out what did not belong to him trading his life for it, gaining a purpose he long lost, a quiet voice, so tired and dead, yet now burning with brightness and strength, the same that once pushed him farther than anyone could go, reared its head in defiance, letting all know he will never give up. Power began to gush out, flashing, blinding, yet shallow and dark, beautiful, peaceful, erupting forth like the last cry of a broken warrior, the last cry of their will, raging forward, fighting the embrace of death, taking the lives of his enemy, roiling around, no longer hiding the strength he commands. Pushing past the limits that all of existence imposed on him, shattering every chain meant to hold him down. 

With a heart unyielding, blood boiling in rage, a mind as calm as a still lake, a spirit unwavering like that of a dancing flame, never conceding to the currents trying to blow it out, the space around him starts to crack, everything turning gray, wavering and undulating, breaking and trembling before a being so strong, it was truly unfathomable, so beautiful in its simplicity of utter chaos and destruction.

Reaching forward, his hand shatters something akin to glass. A pulsing violet-blue light brimming forth with calm torrents of power shies away from him, seemingly as if running. With a voice gentle, serene, and full of power, he coaxes what is perceived as the embodiment of existence itself. 

"Come, do not be afraid, I will not harm you as you have me, for I know you cannot break the bonds that hold you in place, binding you to never move from your course. I will only move what is rightfully mine, carving it away from the power that holds all so close, a tyrant, I will break and make anew."

Responding to that voice, sounding that of one weathered by hardship so vast even that of existence, the thing that encompasses everything and is impartial to all, silently feels sorrow. Moving forward ever so gingerly, the dark violet-blue light rolls over the outstretched hand, not unlike that of a mother comforting her babe. Holding it and embracing that hand, one of a lost boy trying to make right what he has done wrong, giving a feeling of hope and eagerness to help, it lets the hand grasp it.

Instead of a harsh hand like the one that created it, a being known as The wanderer of Lament warmly moves it towards his eyes, only to get a closer look, that of curiosity and wonder.

"I think I'll call you, Totus, haha, it's a language from my home world, Latin, it means whole or all, like that of existence, I'm still quite childish at heart if I say so myself. I should hurry, I cannot hold on for much longer."

With a stillness that would lay deceit to that of which occurred but moments ago becomes prevalent. Pulling at the light, the man finds a tiny piece of it, lightly pinching it between his fingers. With no pain or discomfort to the amalgamation of violet and blue light, he severs it, nearly being erased right then and there, only nearly holding on with the last vestiges of his power. Asking in a strained voice now filled with hope, the man asks openly without so much as a single tear,

"Totus, can I ask you for an exchange? My life, for this little piece of you, to not be given a path? I wish for it to build one, not follow along behind something that has already happened once before in your infinite gathering of what is you. Will you let this tired soul rest and give a chance to whom would have received it that day? I want to save a lost little boy, one that never should have had to go through this, he should have just had fun, experiencing what very few ever get to. Will you let me have a chance to be happy, to fulfill that empty space that should have been filled long ago, the very first day I was given what I thought was my chance? The day I had met my best friend, the day I had become a dragon rider, my start to this journey that will now no longer come about but explore a myriad of worlds, saving and changing fates that need not be so terrible?"

With a burning fire left in his chest, the man beseeches Totus, the core you could say of existence, for an exchange, an exchange of fair differing values, with the power he had, he could have exchanged for almost anything ever to have existed and will come to exist. The power he holds is something that no one else besides the creator who died to make existence itself and those few enough to be counted on one hand has achieved. Being something that is omnipotent, omniscient, and omnipresent, Totus knows that this would not be a fair exchange. The man could have very well asked to keep his memories or change a multitude of events, yet he didn't. Unsure as to why Totus pauses, seemingly in a dilemma. 

"Haha, it's not who I am, I would never bring these memories back with me, nor would I change anything in the beginning. Everything that has happened will now change on its own, I'm not sure how nor when, but I know that I can change it, and it will change. I am me, after all, this will only be a warm-up to what will come."

Barking out a laugh that was genuine for the first time in a very long time, the man laughs, shedding no light on the subject whatsoever. With a small shake as if in befuddlement, Totus comes to a halt. With a slow nod, well, what the man assumed was one, Totus agrees to do so. 

Rumbling begins to occur, breaking apart all that of which is around them, distorting and shredding the very fabric of time, space, and existence itself, the man looks on with a smile, one that carries so much behind it, it simply appeared to be nothing and everything to the man. A whisper so quiet, only the sound of air escaping moving lips is registered by Totus.

"Thank you...my name is....Sal....... I hope we meet again under better circumstances..." 

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[Ding]

[Linda has been created, substituting with system #1-23L-2, and will be reinstated as #1-23L-2, so no error occurs. Rest well, O'wanderer of Lament, my master, I will help you achieve all your desires and wishes.]