Pov: Steve Rogers
You ever wonder what kind of man crawls out from under a corpse?, the answer it's simple, That was me.
My first breath was beneath a hanged woman, my mother, they said. The rope still swayed when I opened my eyes.
I was never meant to live. I was born into the mud, into screams, into a world that eats its own. They handed me a sword before I could walk and told me to fight or die. I fought.
I killed before I ever learned what mercy meant.
Every man who raised me wanted to use me, as a tool, a weapon, a body to throw into the next slaughter. So I learned to survive. That's all I ever did. Survive. At least, until he appeared.
Bucky.
The only man who ever made me believe there was something beyond all this. He spoke of dreams, a kingdom, freedom, glory.
I wanted to believe in it, in him. For once, I wasn't just fighting for my life. I was fighting for a future I could almost see. I thought… maybe I could stand beside him as an equal. Maybe I could find my place.
But dreams rot when you feed them blood.
When the Eclipse came, I thought it was the end of the world. I was wrong. It was worse. The sky bled. The ground turned to flesh.
Our comrades, the only family I'd ever known, were devoured alive, screaming my name. And Bucky… the man I'd trusted more than anyone… he offered us up. All of us. For power.
He became a god, we became his sacrifice.
I watched her, Peggy, the only light left in me, torn apart before my eyes. I reached for her, but my arms weren't enough.
My strength, my rage, my love, none of it mattered. And in that moment, I realized the truth: there are no gods. Only monsters. And I was one of them.
After that, there was nothing left but hate. Hate so deep it burned away everything human inside me. I've been walking ever since, through blood, through hell, through a thousand nights where the only sound is the beating of my cursed heart.
The mark on my neck calls to the damned; the dead follow me wherever I go. Every swing of my sword tears another piece out of me. But I don't stop. I can't.
Sometimes I think about laying it down, about letting the darkness take me.
But then I remember their faces, the ones who fell, the ones who screamed, the one who still can't remember me.
And I keep moving. Because if I fall, there's no one left to stand against the tide. No one left to defy the gods who made this hell.
So here I am, flesh torn, bones cracked, heart hollow. The world keeps trying to bury me, but I claw my way back every time. Not for salvation. Not for peace. Just because I refuse to die on my knees.
I've lost everything, every reason to keep going, every hand that ever held mine.
But I'm still breathing, still fighting, still defying every curse, every prophecy, every god that ever spat on me.
I should have died long ago, but I didn't, I'd refused it long ago
And just like that, the time passed, how much?, I didn't know
The only thing I know it's that the battlefield is silent now, The rain smells like blood and rust. My armor's broken, my sword's dull, but I'm still here.
And worse yet, there he stands.
Bucky.
Untouched. Perfect. The same Black hair, the same calm eyes that once looked at me like I was something more than a beast.
He smiles.
"After everything that happened… you're still chasing me."
I laugh. It hurts.
"I'm not chasing you. I'm here to end what you started."
He tilts his head, like he almost pities me.
"Everything I did was for the dream, Steve."
"Your dream"
I spit.
"And you fed everyone else to it."
The wind howls between us, full of ghosts. I see them all: the comrades, Penny, the people who died believing in him. Believing in us.
I lift my sword. It's heavy, soaked with every scream that ever echoed through my life
"You took everything, Bucky. My family. My purpose. My peace. But not this."
He stares, silent. For a moment, I think I see the man he used to be, before the gods, before the sacrifice.
"You should've let go,"
he finally says softly.
"Maybe,"
I whisper.
"But I don't know how."
I swing my sword while the world cracks with it, light, thunder, pain. When the smoke clears, I'm on my knees, trembling. The sword's broken. The dream's dead.
And yet… I'm still breathing.
I look up at the empty sky, my voice barely a growl.
"I could do this all the day"
He looked at me, still wearing that pitiful expression, but his voice was colder now, stripped of warmth and mercy.
"You're right,"
He said.
"You can. I've seen you do it more than once. But tell me something, Steve… have you ever survived the destruction of a universe?"
And as his words fell into the air, he raised his hand.
The moment he moved, I felt it, the fracture of existence itself. The cracks screamed, the world trembled, and the sound of dying reality filled every corner of creation.
The gods who once demanded my death screamed as they perished.
The beasts that hunted me turned to dust.
And in the center of the unraveling destruction stood him, smiling, just as he did the first day I met him.
"I know this might not change anything,"
He said at last, as the void began to consume everything around us. Death crept closer, I could feel it. Yet I didn't interrupt. I didn't even want to.
"But even if it doesn't… I want you to know one thing, I'm sorry. For everything."
And then, there was nothing.
No shadows, no light, only a silence beyond all meaning.
I drifted in the emptiness, timeless, senseless, and still, I knew where I was.
The Afterlife.
For a while, I let myself fade. There was nothing left to hold on to, and I thought perhaps I had finally found the place I deserved.
But then, a ray of light cut through the dark.
Instinct screamed danger. I was ready to fight, ready to burn again. But what emerged from that light wasn't a monster, nor a god, it was a woman.
I couldn't understand her words, but I knew what had happened. I knew where I was.
And then, I felt it, the helplessness, the smallness.
I was a child. A newborn.
"So this is what you meant,"
I thought, as realization set in, and then… tears. For the first time in ages, I wept. Peace, strange and fragile peace, touched me.
"I'm glad you can feel that,"
said a voice in my mind.
"But this isn't over."
I froze, that voice, familiar. Unmistakable.
"Bucky,"
I whispered.
"Yes,"
he answered.
"I plan to block your memories, and erase mine. That way, each of us can live our own lives."
The words struck harder than any blade.
"You'd go that far?, Erase yourself completely?"
"I want to"
he said.
"But I won't erase you. Only seal your memories. Because I don't know if the other gods survived."
At that, rage flared in me once more. I wanted my sword. I wanted blood. But I stayed still, and asked the question that clawed at my mind.
"How will I know if they're still alive?"
"You'll know,"
he said.
"The Mark of Sacrifice will return. Your memories will awaken with it, and their corruption will spread again through this universe"
I clenched my fists, even as tears burned my eyes.
"I hope they're dead,"
I muttered.
"So do I,"
Bucky replied.
"But my time here is ending. My powers are fading, destroying a universe comes with a cost."
"Will I see you again?"
I asked, the words trembling with hope and dread alike, he smiled, that same haunted smile.
"If fate allows it."
And with that, he was gone.
Years passed, and I found him again, under another name, Bucky Barnes.
And I was reborn as Steve Rogers.
We lived, fought, laughed, as if the past had never been, getting again our old friendship
But the happiness never last long, not for me
When I awoke in the morning today, the truth revealed itself again the lost memories returned, the Mark with them.
Burning, perfect, carved once more into my flesh.
The gods had survived, and their eyes were turning toward me again.
But this time… I will be ready, I will rebuild what I once was, I will rise to meet them once again.
If they dare step foot into this world, MY world, I will remind them what it means to defy me.
Let them come, let them bring their armies, their monsters, their divinity.
I'll show them why, in my old world, they called me The "Berserk" .