“NOOOO!!!!!” Magnus cried out after he had awoken from the ‘nightmare’ that he had with the restless life-force embodiment of the little Crixan girl Jaiya he soullessly killed a cycle ago.

  Shooting up from the tussle of fur blankets that he slept upon on the dirt floor of his cramped, crude-looking wooden hut that he had built himself on the edge of a small pond where he had fished for food every morning-cycle for the past three month-cycles, Magnus had a visibly shaken and frightened expression his grizzled face.

  Letting his hair grow down all the way to his shoulder blades and beard, big and bushy as well as running down to his upper chest, the self-exiled Breaker of Worlds panted heavily as he remained inside his small hut.

  Realizing that he was okay and what he had just gone through was ‘not real’, Magnus steadied his heart rate and took a moment to calm his emotional level.

  Scarred mentally and physically by the SEVERAL meaningless atrocities that he had committed as a Galactic Decider, Magnus was a mere ‘shell’ of a man.

  Due to having not been on a steady diet (or training to be a 'warrior)' for over a cycle, Magnus had allowed his muscles to decrease three times in size.

  The World-Breaker now had a slender and lean physical frame.

  Once he had calmed himself down, Magnus wanted to return to his rest, but he realized that it was early morning due to the orange sunlight that shone through the cracks in his hut’s feeble wooden walls.

  “Ugh…” Magnus groaned as he proceeded to push himself out of his crudely made ‘bed’ and readied himself for his daily routine.

  Stepping outside of his Hut, Magnus, who first had pulled on a pair of low hanging cloth shorts and a baggy cloth top, marveled at his seemingly ‘peaceful’ surroundings.

  Purposely situating himself fifteen minute-cycles outside of the nearest village on planet Rannuk (which Magnus had recently chosen to ‘hideaway’ upon in honor of his past on Keeper, Lero) the World-Breaker resided in a woodland area.

  Walking off of the front deck to his Hut, Magnus strolled down the narrow wooden dock that he had also constructed to fish off of in the pond.

  Standing at the edge of the dock now, Magnus looked across the small, greenish-blue watered pond that was filled to the brim with plenty of fish and other aquatic creatures for him to eat and stave off hunger.

  Magnus had essentially become a ‘drifter’ in his cycle long exile.

  Roaming from planet to planet, always staying two to three steps ahead of his Galactic Decider pursuers.

  Though over almost HALF of the worlds that the Nine had broken in their search for him AND their false mission to wipe out the fictitious Kren race, Magnus felt guilty.

  Guilty that he himself was responsible for not just half, but ALL of the now THIRTEEN worlds that the Galactic Deciders had mercilessly destroyed.

  Doing his best to ‘shut himself off’ from his emotions completely, Magnus aided this by also shutting himself off from his special abilities.

  Since his fleeing from Voltaira, Magnus had not used his ‘gravity-based powers’. Not once.

  This made Magnus weaker and slower, but what it had gained him was knowledge and control.

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  With better control over his emotions and knowledge of the terrible truth about his and the other Deciders’ origins, Magnus felt as if he had the ‘upper hand’ in the matter… BUT WORLDS WERE STILL BEING BROKEN AND INNOCENT LIFE-FORMS WERE STILL BEING MERCILESSLY SLAUGHTERED.

  Magnus, deep down in his heart, wanted to stop his former teammates… friends… ‘siblings’, but he knew that if he revealed himself that Emperor Voltair would stop at NOTHING to apprehend him.

  The Breaker of Worlds did not want to take that risk. He couldn’t.

  So, whether it was the ‘right choice’ to make or not, Magnus chose to remain hidden away from society.

  As far as he was concerned, the World-Breaker was 'dead'… But for how long?

  _

  Every day-cycle, when he was finished with his morning-cycle routine, Magnus would put on a hooded cloak, gather up a cloth supply bag, and head off to Keld Village’s Marketplace where he would buy, sell, and deal his way towards survival.

  Selling the game that he hunted and fished out in the Rannukan Woodlands, Magnus would usually turn over a ‘modest’ profit.

  One of which he would use to then buy better supplies for his Hut and hunting.

  It was the same thing every day-cycle.

  Magnus would go to the Marketplace, go about his business, keep his identity a secret, and try not to spend too much time in Rannukan Society.

  Whenever the World-Breaker started becoming familiar with whomever he was around he would quickly gather up his things, destroy his campsite, and swiftly venture off-world in the small H-11 Astro-Light Freighter that he had won in a wager from a rather unscrupulous gamesman and marauder named ‘Valcyone Dryker’ during a high-stakes game of Raddoa in Neu-Keeno City on the planet of Fugenurma (which was located in the Kazingo Galactic Sector) two month-cycles after his self-imposed exile.

  Sure, from the beginning, things were tough for Magnus, but he quickly adapted to whatever harsh surroundings that he purposely put himself in.

  The idea of how Magnus went from being the most feared being in the galaxy to a nameless, craggily looking ‘nomadic wanderer’ in the span of just a cycle humored him slightly, but he tried not to think about it too much.

  Thinking of his dreaded past caused Magnus's emotions to rise and that was something neither he, nor anyone else in the galaxy would ever want to happen again.

  _

  Most night-cycles… Well, EVERY night-cycle, after a long day-cycle of fishing, hunting, and dealing, Magnus would always return to his Hut and rest around a fire.

  Sitting around a campfire just a few feet outside of his Hut, Magnus ate his dinner and meditated for the next hour-cycle, or sometimes, even longer than that.

  During his meditation practices, Magnus would feel a mental link to his nine fellow deciders.

  Aside from Braako, Medo, Apollox, Tristen, Kai, Xan, Draex, and Rayven, Magnus would always check in on Anora and see how she had been keeping in his extended ‘absence’.

  Though he could not see where she was, or what she was doing, Magnus could literally feel Anora’s emotions being exhibited through his very being.

  Anora was angry with the World-Breaker… VERY ANGRY.

  Magnus deeply, with every inch of his fragile being wanted to return to Voltaira and make amends with Anora. He wanted to tell her that he was ‘alright’ and the truth behind his seemingly ‘ludicrous’ actions, but Magnus knew that could never be.

  So, at the end of every meditation practice, Magnus would look up to the stars that laid splattered across the night-cycle skyways of whatever world he dwelled upon and thought about Anora before he turned in for the night-cycle.

  It was always Anora.

  Always…