Flames raged and roared, spreading like an infection, a disease.
A corruption that turned the white walls black and turned the light orange with the original white as hardly a tease.
For the fire continued to consume all that it could grasp, regardless of the pleas.
Murdering any that dared to stand its ground against the indestructible destruction, even if it was killed on its knees.
All that could be heard was the deafening cry of the smoke detector, as the house's anti-hazard systems tried to extinguish the flames in the kitchen, but those systems were only designed to put out accidental small bursts controlled at birth, not a horde of flames that ravaged rooms in seconds, fueled by a burning hatred that no extinguisher could put out.
The living room which once had a beautiful white wallpaper with golden streaks, soft fur carpets that eased anyone whether native or guest, and rich wooden antique furniture that hasn't been made in centuries, was now consumed by the red and orange flames that grew out, having already broken out of the room to consume the rest of the house including the upper bedrooms and basement.
Standing surrounded by the flames was a boy who wore a white shirt and shorts, staring directly in front of himself with wide blue eyes, just barely age fourteen, for it was his birthday, even though it was hardly a celebration now. He stared in utter horror at the flames that reflected off his eyes, listening to voices that he couldn't make words out from as if they were screaming mumbles.
All he could make out from the mumbles was a strong sense of desperation, as though the mumbles were begging, begging to be spared from the nightmare. The boy couldn't move, not because anything was restricting his body by any means, but because he was unable to look off of the sight in his eyes, a sight that rendered his body frozen.
The voices got louder as the begging seems to become more intense, but only as the beginning was getting louder, it got cut off by a shriek of rage, which then was followed up by an outburst of flames that turned the boy's blue eyes red for a moment, and as it did, a woman's cry sent shivers across his body, a last cry before passing.
In front of the boy dropped a woman who wore a white dress with a pattern of pink stems and petals, and as the body dropped, another ran for the boy, this one of a man in a white formal suit with an oversized blazer and long brown hair.
The man grabbed the boy's hand, only to continue his run for an arched door, dragging him along. As the man ran for the door, the boy could only look straight ahead with a lifeless expression, tightening his grip on the man's hand, in hope to feel a greater sense of safety in such a desperate moment.
As the man approached the charcoal gray door, it dematerialized in front of him, turning into a nanite cloud before evaporating to allow for exit. The man kept moving as the boy dropped his head straight down, just staring in a broken defeat at the sight before him.
The two ran through the door, and as they did, the woman's arm finally dropped onto the white fur carpet, her hand stretched open, her white and pink sleeve ending just under her wrist. The lifeless hand remains on the floor as the fires continue spreading towards the door, burning up the walls beside the door, with the right side of the door having a mirror with a golden frame over a wooden table, and the left side of the door having a portrait framed on the wall, which seemed to be taken in some kind of forest.
The portrait featured three young boys side by side, and behind them was a woman and a man, all of them smiling under the vibrant green leaves of the rich trees giving a peaceful backdrop.
However, while the portrait was beautiful, there was a massive crack in the center that spread to nearly the whole glass top, but that hardly mattered anyways as the flames worked to devour it as a whole.
The man continued farther away from the house and into the black night under the full white moon, which glistened with the reflected light of the sun, escaping as a flame attempted to reach them, but failed due to the distance. The house turned more reddish orange as the flames devoured the house, turning it from heaven to hell, with fires on the walls, on the floors, and on the woman's hand.
The man ran down the stone path that cut through the grass, continuing on without a sign of slowing down until he got to the end of the stone path, which is where he chose to stop.
He then gently let go of the boy's hand and let him stop, and proceeded to bend his legs to meet the boy at eye level, his white blazer folding with visible wrinkles.
The boy stared at the man, his blue eyes still wide, as not a word had come from his mouth. He just stared in horror as the man began to speak, ordering him "Wait here Meditat, I'm going to fix this, just give him a few minutes. Okay? Everything is going to be okay."
The boy reluctantly nodded, knowing there was nowhere to run regardless, so the best option he had was to listen to the man. He didn't give a verbal response, making the nod the only signal of confirmation to the man, as it was clear the boy was too shocked to speak.
The man sighed, and he stood back up to his feet, allowing his blazer to unfold and tighten its fit again. He then turned around and ran towards the house's entrance again, off to put out the great flame.
The man in the white blazer left the young boy behind, who just stared at the house with wide blue eyes, frozen in silence. It was clear he had been petrified to the point of being unable to act, for this was a day that had never been expected, for he never believed he'd be betrayed in such a way.
There were no nearby roads or neighbors with the boy, trapping in him an empty void alone. Perhaps that was for the better though, such a horrible sight shouldn't be forced upon mortal eyes, for such supernatural chaos was bound to ripple the ocean that should've never been littered in.
The man in the white blazer approached the house, his coat flapping behind him as he made his sprint back to his old home, his resort in an alien world. He stared at the raging flames, visible from even outside, as he could still hear the death of the home.
He stared at his dear home that he had lived in for decades, settling into a world of such odd men, the home where he put a great deal of effort into assimilating into such a unique society, and the home where he loved. While the memories he made in the home were hardly a spec in his vast life, he still cherished them deeply, for he never thought he'd understand the love he did, both in romance and as a parental figure.
However, while many of those memories were ones he could look back on fondly, there were many tragedies that had taken place in that very home, tragedies that had haunted the house for years.
Now, it seemed another tragedy was taking place, however this one wouldn't only corrupt the home, but instead seek to destroy it. That home that the man built and made his life for decades was being rid of in front of him, as great orange flames burst from within.
As the man stepped closer to the open door, he gazed at the home one more time, knowing exactly what had to be done. An overwhelming sense of guilt burdened his chest as he knew that once again, he had committed another great failure, a failure that would once again ruin what could've been perfection.
He took the future of all reality upon himself, and in the very same moment he dropped it, putting all in misery.
Now, he could only stare at his old home as it crumbled before him, gazing at the blaze with his two eyes, which seems to be completely white without even a noticeable iris. The white eyes seem to be brighter than a usual sclera, and in fact it seems to give off its own passive faint glow, as it was clear he was no ordinary man.
The man in the white blazer dashed straight back into the house, his brown hair flowing behind him as the vibrant orange glow of the flames was projected onto him. He continued to sprint forwards, returning to the room of the horrible scene.
With the remaining young boy left outside, he now had to tend to the other, knowing the plan he'd have to execute on. It wasn't an ideal plan, for he truly wanted a better upbringing for them, but it was the only plan he was left with now that he had failed so greatly.
The man entered the living room once again, finding that the white walls were now entirely consumed by flames, with holes being burnt into it as the flames had spread across the whole house. The fur carpets were completely incinerated, leaving nothing more than dark ash on the burning wooden floor.
The wooden furniture was completely gone as well, and in their places were larger flames that danced violently.
The man halted once he entered the room, avoiding the flames on the floor to try not burning himself. He quickly glanced at the room, noting its state, knowing that it would never be truly recovered again.
The room that had such abundant memories formed in it would never be seen after this night, and the life he had lived for those decades would become nothing more than a fading memory that'd flash to him from time to time.
The man looked down at the floor, and his white eyes widened as he stared directly at the woman who laid on the floor.
Her arm laid on the burning wood as her lifeless hand was left open. She wore the dress with the pattern of pink stems and petals, however most of that once-white dress was now dark gray or black, having been scorched from the nearby flames.
Streaks of crimson blood ran down her face from her forehead, creating rivers beside her pink lips, which are slightly parted. Her eyes were left open with a dull lifelessness, which had beautiful light brown irises.
The woman also has beautiful hair the same color as her eyes, which reaches down to her shoulders, laying on the floor in a mess. She seemed to be an elegant woman, who lived peacefully and innocently, only ever having love in her heart. She lived to love, but she didn't know how cruel and chaotic of a life she would be forced to have in the family she cared for so much.
A large gaping hole is present in her forehead, with an opening at both ends, allowing the orange flames behind her to be visible through the hole. Inside the hole are guts of a brain, as her brain seemed to have been punched out, with more guts laying in front of her, and blood running from the hole down her face.
The man continued to stare at the woman he loved dearly for a few moments, his eyes wide in defeat. He knew what innocent sweetheart she was, and staring at her having been murdered so violently put a pain in his chest.
She somewhat always knew that she was different from the rest of the family, for she knew that her husband had abilities, and she went on to watch all her children grow to also have abilities. She knew that she was the weakest one in the family because of this, and she also knew that living with such people could put her in danger due to the stigmas against an Exhuman family.
She knew that there were dangers of the life she was in being inside that home, and yet she stayed without ever having a second thought. She loved her husband who could do things that no normal man could do, and never saw him as a threat.
She loved her children who knew how to do things she could never before they even reached a full year of age, and she always saw them as a blessing, and never anything sinister.
But she didn't truly know how different she was from the rest of the family. Even though she knew they had extraordinary abilities, she had still not had the true grasp of the people she was living with. She believed she did, and she seemed content with what she was told, never further questioning it past what she knew was relatively possible in the world she lived in.
However, in all her years of living, she didn't know who her husband really was or where he came from. She didn't even know what her children were, or how they really came to be.
She treated all of them as her children without ever knowing that she truthfully had no part in their existence. She saw them as the greatest joys of her life, but she didn't know that she was truthfully no more than a caretaker or a sitter. They weren't her kids, but she didn't know that, and she never would. For now, she laid on the floor, brutally killed. Her life had been a lie, for she was a mortal living in a family of gods.
The man in the white blazer raised his head after having a few seconds of mourning her, as he knew that there was a more pressing matter at hand. There was still the final mission that he had to tend to, and he stared at it with his white glowing eyes.
Behind the body of the wife and mother stood a boy, who stared directly back at the man. The boy appeared similar to the boy the man had rushed out of the house, having the same body shape and many similar features although with splats of crimson blood along his body and face.
In fact, one of the few striking differences is that whereas the boy outside wore white clothing, the boy inside wore a plain black shirt and shorts, but other than that it would be difficult to tell them apart from their bodies alone, as though they were twins.
The boy stood amongst the raging flames, standing in the center of the living room. Orange flames danced behind him, being above his height, however he seemed completely unharmed and didn't seem paranoid about their presence.
The man gazed at the boy for a few moments, his body glowing orange from the light cast by the blazes. The two stared at each other, standing in the burning room, as chunks of the ceiling above them collapsed with the upper floors being burned down.
The man took a deep breath, and he exclaimed in a deeply desperate voice, "Boy!"
The boy's eyes contracted to a glare, with his irises appearing to be inhumanly red. There's also a clear hatred within his expression, as he stared down at his old man with a bitter resent, which was only amplified from the words spoken.
The boy doesn't respond, instead he stares with deep resentment, his eyebrows tilted with fury. The flames surrounding him burst into greater size, immediately enlarging and becoming more deadly. Without words, the response was clearly communicated between the two.
The man let out a deep pained sigh, and he lowered his head for a moment after taking the silent retaliation. The weight of guilt only got heavier, for he knew how deeply in this pit he was in, and how far he was from peaceful repension.
He caused this great failure, it was all his fault. It was his fault for his wife's deceased body on the floor just as it's his fault for his enraged son seeking to destroy his other one.
The man raised his head up to look at the boy again, and he cried back, "Look, boy, I know what I've done, and I'm sorry! But I'm the one you're angry at, don't take this out on them!"
The boy's glare intensified upon hearing the response, and as he growled back, his teeth gritted animalistically as his eyes began to glow red. The glow brightened with flares coming off his face, as the response seemed to enrage him more.
The cloth covering the boy's chest disintegrated as a raging red flame burst out of his chest. At the same time, his glowing eyes began to give off red flames in a similar fashion, which all rose up towards the crumbling ceiling.
The fleshy tarp was beginning to unravel, revealing a darker power of eternal scale locked behind the innocent appearance of youth. Years of sheathing was being undone in minutes, a lifelong plan collapsing in moments.
As the boy continued to descend into rage, his whole body suddenly bursted in red flames, as he seemed to be overflowing with raw energy derived from his hatred. His red body blazed as larger red flames emerged out, spreading over the room.
As the red flames expanded farther from the boy, they seemed to shift colors into an orange more akin to the flames burning down the house. While the orange flames moved, they seemed to resemble fire more, especially as smoke began to emerge.
Those flames eventually reached the wooden ground, where they then caught onto the wooden flooring, and continued spreading throughout the house. They continued to be generated continuously while spreading, as it appeared the energy the boy was generating was the cause of the fires.
It was the boy who created the fires with his own abilities, derived from his red energy. He had lit the house, for he was able to create too. He was even able to create something beyond simple solid objects, but rather something as elegant as fire from his power alone, fire that consumed the house as they grew.
All that intense power was derived from his pure hatred for his old man, the hatred that would fuel his crusade to burn his brother too.
The man in the white blazer stepped back upon witnessing the boy creating more fires, as it was clear he wasn't holding back. He'd only seem to get more agitated and aggressive as the man spoke, and was willing to do anything to suit his desires.
He stared at his red son with wide white eyes, and he observed his home being destroyed from the inside.
The woman that laid on the ground in front of the boy suddenly caught on fire, and her whole body inflamed in seconds. Her skin burst as her dress was burned, and the flames covered her light brown eyes.
In only a few more seconds, the woman's whole body completely disintegrated to ash from the sheer intensity of the fire. The dark ash mixed in with the ash of the fur carpets, destroying the boy's mother figure.
The man watched the walls of the living room disintegrate as well, revealing the rest of the house, with a visible kitchen and hallway outside of the room. That kitchen and hallway caught on fire too, as the flames tore down their walls to reach the next rooms, as the burning accelerated.
All of that fire was emanating from the boy, who stood behind the ashes, staring back at him with blazing hate.
The way things were heading, there was no solution. The way the boys were, there'd never be a peaceful continuation. The path they had gone on led to this moment, and there'd be no way of having them revert naturally.
As the man stared at the boy, he realized that he could no longer see his son, for his son was long gone. All that remained was the enraged flame, the flame that would spread to the ends of every Earth if he wanted to.
He spent over a decade raising his sons, only for it to end like this. He tried to take on the mission of training the next generation of gods who'd protect all of existence, and after all that work, it devolved into this chaos.
He didn't fail because of his lack of powers, for that was plentiful. The children were created perfectly, the energy transference was perfect, and they were truly capable of doing so much. He didn't fail as a god, for he had created everything perfectly.
However, he failed to raise his children correctly. He failed to care for them equally. He failed to be there for them when they needed it, and he failed to keep them happy. He failed to even treat them like children at all to begin with.
He failed as a father.
That was his greatest failure.
The man took a deep breath, and he swiftly stepped backwards again, narrowingly avoiding a chunk of debris that fell from the floor above him. He watched as the debris immediately burned up and disintegrated, and he looked back up at the boy.
He shook his head, and clenched his fist tightly. As he stared at his son, his white eyes began to glow brighter, as they gave off a greater flare. They become nearly blinding as they continue to brighten without a seeming end, illuminating more of the room gradually.
He knew what he had to do, and he knew there was no other option. If he wanted any of his sacrifices to be worth anything, he had to use his final card.
There was only one solution left that would truly work.
The man softly admitted, "She would've been perfect for you and him, the humanity I couldn't give, the heart I don't have. Her lessons manifested such beauty within you two, lessons even novel to me, and it's agonizing to know all that will go to waste. I wanted to be there to watch you both grow into great men, and I'm sure you will grow into just that. I understand my sins, and I understand that there is only one remedy. I tried to makeshift a solution that secured me, but I understand that paradox now. To make a better tomorrow, I must relinquish my today, and allow you both to develop naturally without my restraint, even if it sacrifices me of the pleasure from witnessing that tomorrow. I hope your new home is better, I hope your new future is better...and I hope your new parents are better. Goodbye, son."
The man's entire body suddenly transformed completely white, as all his clothing seemed to vanish, leaving him as a white glowing humanoid being. He stood in the living room as his white body glowed brighter, gradually expanding over the flames of the room with a great hum.
The boy watched with wide eyes as the white glowing man stood in front of him, realizing what he was going to do. However, before he could interrupt the inevitable process, the man opened his hands, and flashed a colossal wave of white light out of his body. The light immediately consumed everything around him, consuming the room and all of the orange flames into its blank white void.
The man lets out a dying scream as he releases all his energy, as in that moment, his body disintegrates, vanishing from reality. The sacrifice is made, for he has relinquished his home and body in hopes of offering a better future to the twin sons.
He stared helplessly as the wave of light consumed him too, watching as the white light consumed the red flames that emerged from his body.
He gazed with wide red eyes as the white light approached him before consuming his whole body, as he knew that he'd be shredded down to nothing and reset completely.
His life would stop, and another would begin in his place.
Replaced again.
_____________________________________________________
That replacement lays on a bed, seeming to be in deep sleep. His hair is messy and he seems to be somewhere in his twenties, however it's unclear how old he really is, especially due to the lack of clarity on his face, unhelped by the absence of light due to the darkness of the room.
Dexter's eyes suddenly open wide after waking up from the flashback. However, his eyes are now crimson just as his former self was in the flashback, and they give off a red glow, indicating a presence of energy from within him.
Just as his brother before him, he has activated his own abilities as he begins recalling his past. However, rather than paired with tranquil joy like his counterpart, a resentful rage blazed within his eyes, a fury reawakening.
With the ability to create, he has the capability to annihilate.
Rancor manifests as his eyes dilate, ready to hunt after the long wait, ready to do whatever is necessary to lock his enemy's fate.
With an immediate resolve conjured from hate, his innate enraged state consumes his blank slate, shattering it with the overwhelmingly intense weight.
While the god has been regenerated, the devil has been liberated.