For the first time in decades, Ultima felt peace.
Not in forgiveness.
Not in redemption.
But in the quiet nothingness that awaited him as the final breath left his cracked lips.
He lay beneath a gray sky that didn't cry for him.
No one did.
The world had long stopped keeping his name in its prayers or its curses.
Even the wind passed over his body like a stranger with no time to spare.
A rusted ring fell from his palm, bouncing once on the cold stone before settling near the puddle of blood. A keepsake. A lie he carried until the end.
His eyes, pale and dry, stared upward as the clouds twisted into shapes he could no longer interpret. Was it a memory? Apunishment?
Or was he finally… free?
Then the silence cracked.
Not thunder. Not footsteps. Something deeper. A low, echoing chime like a distant bell buried under a mountain of dust. It did not belong to the world he left. And yet, it pulled at him like a hook in his ribs.
Ultima blinked.
That should've been impossible.
The sky above shifted. Not cleared, not brightened just... changed. The grayness peeled away like dead skin, revealing a dim ceiling of metal beams and rotting wood. His back, once cushioned by the dirt, now lay pressed against cold, broken concrete.
He gasped not in fear, but disbelief.
Around him was an abandoned train platform. Cracks spiderwebbed across the floor, weeds sprouted through the tiles, and a heavy mist hugged the edges of the tracks like it didn't want to let go. The air smelled like old rust and soaked parchment.
He sat up slowly, bones creaking with an echo too loud for the stillness. No signs. No lights. No people.
And yet he wasn't alone..
A figure stood at the end of the platform, arms folded behind their back, dressed in a black conductor's uniform that had never known dust. A long overcoat hung elegantly over their thin frame, and their shoes made no sound as they stepped closer, each stride too smooth to be human.
"Awake already?" the figure asked, voice calm, charming… and wrong.
Ultima squinted. "Where...?"
"Where?" The Entity tilted his head. "Why does always THE protagonists start with THAT ONE?"
The voice smiled even before the lips did.
It was soft, smooth, precise like someone who had practiced it in front of a mirror for centuries.
Ultima stood fully, eyes narrowed. "Who are you?"
"Oh, I go by many names," the man said, raising a gloved hand with theatrical flair. "You used to call me a mistake. Others a savior. But you? You knew me once, ONCE as a whisper in the dark, didn't you?"
He stepped into the light or what passed for light in this place. His skin looked like porcelain dipped in ink, his eyes too polished, too knowing.
There was no shadow behind him.
"...Devil?" Ultima said, the word dry on his tongue.
"Mm, Close enough.." The Entity hummed with satisfaction. "It always pleases me when the clever ones catch on quickly."
Ultima clenched his fists. "If this is hell, you're wasting your time. I made peace with it long ago."
"Peace?" the devil laughed. "You called that peace?"
He motioned to the ground, and for a flicker of a second, Ultima saw a mirror of his own body broken, bloodied, and alone.
"Don't flatter yourself," the devil continued, stepping over the image without looking down. "You died in denial, not peace. And trust me, denial is far more useful to me."
Ultima didn't answer. He scanned the station again no trains, no clocks, just that thick, damp fog crawling along the tracks like it had a secret to keep.
"What is this place?" he asked at last.
The devil turned in a slow circle, arms spread wide. "A station for those who were never quite forgiven. A space between what was and what could have been. A lovely, tragic thing, really just like you."
Ultima looked him in the eye. "Why am I here?"
"Oh, Ultima..." The smile widened, impossibly. "You were always so eagerto skip to the end. That was your problem, wasn't it? Cutting corners. Choosing the easiest sin over the hardest truth. Doing harm in the name of pain because it was easier than asking to be loved."
Ultima didn't flinch.
The devil leaned closer, voice dropping to a whisper sharp as glass.
"Tell me... do you remember her name?"
The pause was endless.
Then,
"No. Of. course. YOU. don't."
Ultima's jaw tightened.
"I remember every one of them," the devil continued softly, his tone now mockingly gentle. "The ones who begged. The ones who ran. The ones who trusted you. You carved your name into their stories, Ultima. Now it's time you remembered how the ink bled."
Ultima looked down at his hands. clean, unbloodied but they felt heavier than ever.
"Why are you telling me this?" he asked.
The devil chuckled. "Because you're not dead, Ultima. Not anymore. I've pulled you from that sweet little void you thought you earned."
He took a step closer, nose to nose. "You're going to remember everything."
The devil's smile never faltered as he watched Ultima, unmoving, still clutching his fists like the weight of the world might somehow be lifted by his grip alone. The broken station around them seemed to settle into a quieter stillness, as if the very air knew a decision was about to be made.
Then, without warning, the devil extended his hand, palm open, glowing faintly beneath the dim lights that barely flickered from above.
"Do you want to change, Ultima?" The devil's voice was smoother than silk, softer than poison. "Do you truly want redemption? Because I can give it to you. Not in some quiet, forgotten corner of this world, but in a way that only I can offer."
Ultima stared at the devil's hand, his heart pounding despite the eerie calm that enveloped him. He didn't trust the words, but deep down, he didn't have much left to lose either.
"I'm not interested in redemption," Ultima said, his voice hoarse but defiant. "I never was. I'm here because I thought I was already dead."
The devil's smile widened, but there was no mockery in it just a quiet understanding. "Ah. But that's where you're wrong. You're not dead, Ultima. Far from it." He tilted his head, as though inspecting him with careful curiosity. "You're at the beginning of something... far darker."
A faint flicker of hesitation crossed Ultima's face, but the devil was already moving. With a single fluid motion, he waved his hand, and the shadows around them coiled and twisted, engulfing Ultima's body in a sudden, suffocating darkness.
"What are you—"
But before he could finish his sentence, the shadows released him, and Ultima stumbled back, finding himself standing tall again too tall. His body was changing, returning to the prime of his youth. He looked at his handsnstrong, unscarred, the same hands that had once wielded cruelty with ease. His clothes shifted, and a strange, unfamiliar energy rushed through him.
"You... you've done this," Ultima said, his voice now betraying the shock that gripped him. His body had returned to its former glory, a reminder of the power he once held before it all crumbled to dust.
"You had forgotten, hadn't you?" the devil purred, eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "The power of youth is fleeting, but your intellect... that's what I find most interesting. A mind as sharp as yours, capable of understanding the world and its many layers of corruption. You could've been anything, Ultima. But here you are."
Ultima clenched his fists again. "What do you want from me?"
"I want a contract," the devil said with an unsettling calmness. "A deal between us, Ultima.You'll be the conductor. And I'll give you... the power to travel back to your past to those moments where your soul took its first step into damnation. You'll go back and fix the mistakes you made.Save the people you hurt. Change the decisions that haunt you."
Ultima's eyes narrowed. "A time-traveling conductor? That's your idea of redemption?"
"Not redemption," the devil said, his voice turning cold, almost amused. "Atonement. Because, you see, Ultima, you can't save everyone. Some people will still suffer. It's inevitable. But you'll try, wouldn't you..?"
Ultima's mind raced. He'd always been a genius a man who could read situations before they happened, a master manipulator. This sounded too easy. Too convenient.
"Why me?" Ultima demanded. "There must be thousands of others who could do this."
"Because you're the only one I'm offering this to," the devil replied. "The others have their paths. You've already walked yours. I'm simply giving you the chance to rewrite the chapters of your life that need changing."
A slow, twisted grin spread across the devil's face. "And if you fail? If you cause more harm than good? Well, that's where things get interesting."
Ultima felt a chill run down his spine.
The devil gestured, and a train slowly materialized before them. It was unlike anything he'd ever seena sleek, black locomotive with windows that seemed to shimmer in the haze. There was no conductor, no passengersjust the train, waiting. The platform beneath them creaked in time with the pulse of the engine.
"This.. is your vessel," the devil continued. "The train will stop at the stations of your life, each one a major turning point. A sin. A moment you regret. A choice you made that led to another, and another, and another. You will face them, Ultima. You'll have the opportunity to stop them. To prevent them. But know this: For every sin you stop, another may take its place. Time is not as forgiving as you may wish."
Ultima's stomach twisted. He could feel the weight of the decision settle heavily in his chest.
"Every station is tied to a part of your past," the devil said, voice taking on a dark, playful tone. "And at each stop, you'll be allowed to change the course of history. But there's a catch. If you fail to fix the past or worse, if you cause a new sin in your attempts everything will reset."
Ultima's eyes widened."...Reset?"
"Yes. The train will loop back to the beginning. And you'll retain your memories. But your past self? That's a secret.. But It gets harder, Ultima. Harder each time."
The devil stepped closer, eyes gleaming. "There's one more thing, of course. A hidden clause. A tally, if you will."
Ultima felt his chest tighten. "What are you talking about?"
"The tally," the devil said, lowering his voice. "Each time you intervene, I'll be watching. Saving one life but causing another doesn't count.No, Ultima. You'll only reset your sins if you make true atonement. If you undo the wrongs, not just for yourself, but for others. You must balance the scales."
Ultima swallowed hard, taking in the devil's words. He could feel the weight of the contract forming between them, an invisible thread pulling him toward something he didn't fully understand.
"And if I accept?" Ultima asked, his voice a whisper.
The devil's smile twisted, revealing sharp teeth.
"You'll have the power to change your past," he said, "but you'll also carry its weight. A burden that will follow you through every loop. The train will stop, Ultima. But only when the tally is balanced. When you've truly earned your place. Or when you've destroyed it all, once again."
Ultima stood there, the weight of his choice heavy in his chest. The train waited, its engines softly humming, as if beckoning him forward.
"Do you.. accept?"the devil asked, voice laced with malice.
For the first time, Ultima's gaze shifted to the train. The door stood wide open, waiting. The sins of his past, the ones that still haunted him, lay in the station ahead.
His eyes hardened, and for the first time in his life, Ultima made a choice that wasn't out of selfishness.
"I.. accept."
---
End of Chapter one.