Human beings have always hated what is different; that is a fact. In every world, it seemed to be human nature to hate and to blame.
They called the different ones "freaks," a slur for people with disabilities. In this Wednesday world, the term "Outcast" labeled those who were unlike humans: witches in Korea, Peculiar in the U.K.
Think about those names for a moment; they're all different words that mean the same thing: exclusion. Outcast implies rejection by society. A witch accuses someone of pacts with the devil. Peculiar means strange. When you look at the names, you realize something is very wrong.
Viktor wondered why Outcasts let themselves be called that when they could choose better names for themselves. Maybe humans named them that originally, and Outcasts kept the name to maintain uneasy relations. Maybe there were other reasons Viktor didn't know.
'Maybe my purpose in this world is to be a savior,' he thought.
They talked for a while, and to lift the mood, Viktor told a joke about Agnes and her little group. Alma laughed, and then she told stories about the orphanage, how trying the children could be, and how comforting they could also be.
"Auntie, this is your room. Stay however you like."
"Thank you."
"We still have a lot to do, Aunt. As president, I need to handle the important things." Viktor said.
"Since I'm staying here, maybe I could help with some of those things," Alma offered.
"Really? That'd be appreciated."
"Oh, I almost forgot," Alma said. "I saw a suspicious person on the roof. He looked like an Avian."
"An Avian?" Viktor frowned; a face came to mind.
"That's right, I almost forgot to tell you, big brother, we saw him too. He was tailing on Wednesday. There was also a bald uncle hanging around Nevermore. The security didn't notice him, but my friends and I did, and he was eating an insect, too."
"Bald uncle?" Viktor asked. "Oh, that's probably Wednesday's uncle."
"If you mean Fester Addams, then yes. And you're wrong if you think he didn't notice you; he just didn't care. That man's a wanted criminal who's never been caught. Be careful around him." Alma added.
"Have you seen any zombies?" Viktor asked suddenly, remembering the events of season two. That might explain why he hadn't seen Wednesday for days; she was probably in trouble.
'I should help her. Now that I think about it, in Season 1, Jericho was supposed to attack Nevermore, but he never did. Did he get scared? Maybe he passed the job of killing Outcasts to the cultists,' Viktor thought, remembering Jericho's deep hatred. 'If his spirit is still out there, I should deal with him sooner rather than later, leave no loose ends.'
Viktor and Agnes eventually left the room and said their goodbyes.
"I never expected our aunt to be like her. She's beautiful and kind. I thought she'd be strict or cold."
"Strict?" Viktor asked.
"You know, like other aunts. My friend's aunt is strict and cold, so I thought all aunts were like that. But she's kind, and… and…" Agnes lowered her head, her voice softening to a whisper. "She reminded me of Mother."
"Me too." Viktor gently patted her head. "So be kind and respectful toward her. She's the only family we have left."
Even though they looked happy on the outside, a part of them still longed for their family, especially Agnes, who was still just a young girl. Viktor understood that.
He noticed Agnes had gone quiet. Missing their mother must have weighed on her, and Viktor couldn't do anything to fix that. "How about we go out for dinner tonight?" he offered.
Agnes slowly lifted her head, a faint smile forming on her lips. "Really? But what about Auntie?"
"Let's invite her too, if you want."
"Okay, let's invite her as well. She must be feeling lonely, too." Agnes nodded, her cheerful energy returning.
Just then, Viktor noticed a commotion, the students rushing toward the exit, excitement written across their faces. He stopped one of them. "Hey, what's going on?"
"Oh! Hi, Viktor! It's winter! Everyone can't wait to play in the snow!" the student replied before running off.
"Winter?" Viktor murmured, glancing at Agnes. They followed the others outside.
Snowflakes drifted from the sky, the wind carrying a sharp chill. Despite the cold, laughter filled the air as everyone ran out to play in the snow.
It was supposed to be a happy moment, but Viktor felt a strange sense of dread rise inside him. The snow, the cold, the way the buildings were slowly being covered, it all felt eerily familiar, like something out of his dreams.
'Did someone finally succeed in summing an Outer God?' he wondered, a heavy unease settling in his chest.
'Should I just run away… take Agnes with me…' The thought came uninvited, like a whisper on the wind. He didn't want to think it, but there it was.
Then suddenly, he saw him, it was himself, standing before him. It wasn't a reflection. It was the original Viktor.
"Are you going to bring danger to my sister again?" the figure asked.
"Why are you here? No, who are you?" Viktor demanded.
"I'm the original Viktor. But that doesn't matter." His tone was calm. "You love my sister like family, but why aren't you running? Why do you keep staying here? You could take Agnes and hide in another country. Live peacefully. You don't have to play the hero. That was never your purpose."
The words of the original Viktor sounded like the devil's whisper in his ear, soft, poisonous, and almost convincing. For a moment, they began to make sense… until Viktor shook his head and smirked.
"If you're trying to tempt me with those words, you'll have to try harder. You're not him. I may not have lived his life, but I know him well enough. And you're wrong about one thing, my purpose is to save the Outcasts, to bring them a true home."
Viktor had thought about it many times, why he was the one to be thrown into this world among billions of others. Why him? Was it luck? Fate? Was he chosen? Why did a world exist inside his soul?
In the end, as he began living here, living with his sister, meeting new friends, finding a home… fighting beside them to save this world, all their struggles became memories. Harsh, yes, but precious.
Before he realized it, Viktor had grown to love this world. Even if it wasn't his true purpose, he had to protect it, so those memories would remain, and the people who mattered most could live on.
"Kyahahaha… as expected of you, hero." The original Viktor's grin widened, twisting into something inhuman. "But in the end, everything will crumble. Viktor DeMille… or should I say, Viktor Elyon? Your efforts are futile. You're trapped in a whirlpool of chaos, one disaster after another. Ask yourself, why does chaos follow you everywhere?"
He laughed, the sound sharp and cruel. "Because of you, everyone will die. The world will burn to ash, no matter where you run, even inside your own world. Chaos will follow you, always."
Viktor's expression darkened, then turned to a grin of his own. "So you're the Outer God trying to invade this world, another one, after that last failure… what was his name? The Loser of Shadows? Whatever. In the end, you'll fall too. I'll make sure of it."
The original Viktor only laughed, a deep, echoing sound that rattled through Viktor's mind. His body convulsed; blood burst from his lips as he collapsed to the ground.
"Just a laugh, and you're already bleeding?" the figure sneered. "You dare act arrogant? Very well, Viktor. I'll wait for that day. But for now… enjoy the winter."
The original Viktor's body dissolved into snow, scattering into the wind until it melted into the ground.
Viktor wiped the blood from his mouth and exhaled slowly. His gaze lifted toward the courtyard, the students laughing, Agnes among them. On the rooftop, a falcon perched before transforming into a beautiful woman. She raised her hand to catch a snowflake, which melted instantly against her warmth. She smiled and waved.
Enid and her friends threw snowballs, their laughter echoing through the air. Everything was peaceful, under Viktor's watchful eyes.
He turned away, stretching his shoulders. The smile faded, replaced by a quiet, lingering coldness in his eyes.
In the end, he was reminded once again why he needed to keep fighting, for peace, for himself, and for the people he loved.
Viktor reached into his pocket and pulled something out. Resting in his palm was a small vial, the serum brought by those men from Korea. Power was a dangerous temptation, but he needed it. He needed this strength to protect them, even if it was created from the blood of countless Outcasts.
He closed his eyes and let out a long, weary sigh.
...
AN: I've released a new fanfic to participate in the Fanfic Event, it's called John Wick: Fight Club. It's a multiversal story, and if you've seen the movie Fight Club, you probably have an idea of what kind of book this is. For those who haven't, give it a try; I think you'll enjoy it. Your support would mean a lot!