Blood of the Alpha

"Do you believe in fate?" A single man stood before the blinding light, watching it with an almost dispassionate gaze. A full-suit of silver armor adorned his muscular body, marred with scratches from battles long-ago. His golden hair glistened like the sun, while his black eyes were darker than the starless night. The sides of his lips upturned into a mirthless grin. "I believe in fate just about as much as you believe in good." The light floated up and down, as if contemplating. "Well, you should believe," the light said. The man didn't even deem it fit to look at the light. "The gears of fate are turning, and they are turning away from your favor," the light's voice had a tint of eagerness behind it. The man looked at the pathetic, floating ball of light before him. "You also told me that I was fated to die at your hand. Yet look at you now; a mere soul trapped within an alternate dimension by the lowly being that you thought would be so easy to kill. Isn't it kind of poetic?" The light turned dark, the surroundings rumbling as if in response to its anger. But then chains manifested from the void, wrapping tightly around the darkness, suffocating it. The man calmly watched the show before him with a bored gaze, as if he had seen this scene millions of times before. The darkness struggled. "Keep laughing while you still can! Sooner or later, I will be free, and you will be the one trapped!" The man yawned, leaning onto his sheathed sword. "Great, wake me up when I can kill you again." The darkness rattled against its chains as the man looked up at the shattered sky, trying to remember what it was supposed to look like. Maybe it was red? Was there only supposed to be two cracks leading to another dimension? But he remembered that weak flying animals existed, and there was no way that they were getting anywhere near the dimensional cracks without being split into pieces. He put on a carefully blank face while staring at the soul within his captivity, making sure that none of his emotions showed behind his mask of indifference. Just another ten years. He just had to guard the soul for another decade, and he would be free. Briefly, he thought back to what the soul said.  Fate? His eyes narrowed. After waiting for what might as well have been an eternity, he was almost done. And if fate wanted to intervene? Well, dealing with it was simple really. He merely had to overwrite it.