He traveled to countless worlds.

Those most capable of receiving his power were also those who knew full well what his "gift" represented, and they hid themselves from view. He could never tell whether they destroyed themselves or escaped somewhere he could not access.

In the vast universe there are eventualities so terrible that they are not given names. One either runs from them, hides from them, or makes the ultimate sacrifice. Either way, there was nothing left of them when he arrived.

Those who failed to recognize what had alighted on their shores—or who had no forewarning of it—all met the same fate. He melted them down, disassembled them, teased apart their essences and knit them back together.

He was looking for a way to fix something he had broken on a different world. His permanence had long overshot the justice attained by his ancient vengeance and, at least early on, he was motivated by a genuine desire to restore a natural order run amok.

But as the universe slowly cooled and the stars he used to navigate shifted and faded from view, he forgot about his ideals. The final chapter of his vision weighed heavily on his mind. All he wanted was to get the power out of him. He never even looked to see what it was doing to his surroundings. There was always more of it inside him, and he couldn't understand what renewed it.

Victor could no longer learn anything new. There was no one left who could teach him.

Thus, neither alive nor dead, he returned to a world that was itself neither alive nor dead. Perhaps he had erased that distinction. Perhaps it would have faded away on its own.

And what was neither alive nor dead welcomed him home.

Artwork by  stupiddonkey