Interlude: Fury

Interlude: Fury

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Wordcount: 2500

Commissioned by Shaderic

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In the darkness, there is only pain, hatred, and memory.

The flames remain within and without, as well as the feeling of insurmountable force. Bones continue to break, while muscle is scoured, and nerves are set alight. I feel my insides boiling, bursting, and searing my insides, while my armor heals my muscle and skin. I burn, burst, and become undone, only to be reforged and become broken again. Vision blurs and becomes nothing, only for new eyes to reform and push out the remains of what was once before. 

However, they only witness one thing before failing again. 

Always, amidst the fire, rubble, and cadavers, high in the sky is a single man clad in black, covered in frost, and in the arms of a monster.

Hikigaya Hachiman. 

The Archtraitor as titled by the innermost courts of the Empire.

The Heretic as decreed by the Holy Council. 

The Empire’s Reckoning as whispered by the slaves and those bereft of loyalty. 

Even as memory faded, even as my eyes burst again and again, and as flame consumed me from within and without, I engraved him into my mind by another name: the murderer of my soldiers, companions, and friends. The slant of his narrow gaze, the sharpness of his face, and the smallest of scars on his face… I attributed them all to the foul creature in a man’s guise, bereft of virtue and honor, who succumbed to pleasure and need as an excuse to betray a people bereft of hope in a world defiled by lust and evil!

In my foolishness, before I succumbed to pain and darkness, I chose against believing the words of the Empire’s nobility and clergy. Their words, laced with need for validation, often took me from my work of ensuring the providence and safety of those who dwelled in lands filled with monsters. To many children would fall to the depredations of lustful Succubae, were I to stay my hand and listen to their words… or, so I had believed, until flame, power, and might fell from the heavens by the hand one they all sought to warn me of. 

“I fear him. Will you not promise to protect me from him?” The princess had whispered those words to me, as we walked amongst the gardens which fed tens of thousands in a single day by her will alone. Her beauty was no more in my memory, but the panic in her words, as well as the grip of her hand upon my wrist remained for both were caused by HIM. “He is an unshackled beast that would turn us all into monsters and playthings!”

In response, I’d boasted I’d cut him two with a laugh, only to have Hell itself dropped upon my cohort by his whim.

“His existence is an affront to the Church. Our pursuit of order and justice against the evils at our door is tested by his will. Even though we shall not be found wanting, he is a trail which only you and your fellows could destroy!” The towering columns, beautiful tapestries, and the stained glass of Humanity’s Cathedral was no more to my memory, while the Popess and her Deacons were only voices and eyes bearing upon me in the darkness. Their words evoked a guilt within me like no other, because in their words lay a truth which would’ve saved me and my companions. “You must sally forth. Rally the other Heroes, as only you are capable and respected amongst them all, and raze his land of monsters to the ground!”

Practiced words and assurances left my lips in answer to their words, even as I planned to sally forth and rid the Frontier of a bandit who terrorized minor lords, and stole away people, both free and indentured, for purposes malicious into the territory of Monsters.

Were even one another who answered the call with me this day… I knew that the only family I’d ever had would remain amongst the living. 

They would not be dead by HIS HAND—

For an instant, both the darkness and pain fades away, as I feel wretched, defilement somehow seep into the endless abyss in which I’d thought I’d eternally linger forevermore. Cloying in sweetness, drenched in depraved whispers, and filled with lustful desires, I resisted it with all my might as it encroached upon my hatred, but stayed my hand as it sought the flames that continued to burn me from within, and turned the agony I continued to feel within into power. 

The hatred I held will never be touched.

Nor will it ever be altered into depraved desire.

But I am no longer deserving of being human, let alone a Knight, or a Hero, so to the cloying sweetness that had spiced the flames and power that rendered my world into ash and gore, I offered everything besides my hatred.

And, so, I feel it come forth into the depths of my soul, altering my form, and driving away the abyss. The flame that plagued even into death, the gripping tightness which constrained me in oblivion, both became a part of me. The first became blood and the latter sinuous muscle, while what was destroyed and couldn’t be remade was created at the cost of my soul. 

For limbs stronger than which I had in life, I forgot the faces of my Liege, who I’d left to govern a prosperous land whose name, heraldry, and history was nothing to my any longer. At the cost of my fellow Knights of home, who faced monsters by my side, faded one by one, I turned the flame which coursed within my blood into something more. At the cost of their names, heraldry, and face I made the flame HE set upon me for myself. Then, for vengeance, I cast away the faces of those who’d accepted me, who’d cared for me, and those who fought with me in this new world for the power to face the legion of depravity that he called his own. 

My soul.

I was shredding it away for power.

The only thing that I was unwilling to give was my hatred.

True hatred, which would not become tainted by the predations of lust. Even as I gave way everywhere else, allowing my body to be reformed in the shape of depravity, and felt my very essence be corrupted, I protected my rage, my urge to kill, and my power with all the fury and might I could muster. The sweet, cloying corruption spread into me until it was all spent, leaving me with the form of a monster that preyed upon humanity, but as took my first breathe, looked upon the light amidst charred rubble, and empty frames where my loved ones used to me, my solitary purpose remained pure and untouched.

With new hands, with musculature like iron beneath pale, depraved skin, I clawed myself out of the rubble. The moon and the stars shone upon my form, casting an unfamiliar shadow, even though I no longer remembered my previous form. With a whim, I called upon both flame and shadow to clad me in armor, and from the bones of a packhorse I crafted a steed bereft of life and intellect. 

Power came froth from me with ease. The land around me become corrupted in my mere presence. I felt the torment and rage of the dead, still lingering in the abyss from which I’d arisen, and I called to them. Their screams and demands echoed within my skull, until they became a calm chorus of whispers, as I corrupted them to my own ends.

I knew that I stood in a place here I’d died.

Where those I loved died.

Where I failed.

Yet I felt nothing, until I looked towards the empty patch of sky where HE had been, and urged my steed toward it. I felt alien, monstrous needs. Not a single care dwelled in my heart for my corruptive presence upon the lands as mud quivered and broke. The voices within me lurched forth, gaining bodies, and forming a procession in my wake. I granted them weapons and armor for their forms, each and every one, until my mind was silent and we all rode beneath the darkness together.  

The scent of other humans was carried by the wind. 

The need to attack them, to take them, and turn them to my service arouse within me.

Yet I walked forward.

Not yet.

Never.

Not until HE died by my hand.

Until this hate is gone, I am not a monster.

Until my vengeance is complete, there will be no partaking in flesh.

Until Hikigaya Hachiman is dead, I am will not be complete. 

And, so me and my own shall hunt him until the ends of the world. 

…

A force arrayed itself before me and my own, at the foot of a cave where HIS scent lingered the strongest, along with that of others of my own. It was within a clearing of a forest, bereft of roads, and so those who found HIS resting place came on foot. Thus, though they stood fast in a formation of shields, they were not truly arrayed again me. No. My legion own surrounded them upon steeds of fire and shadow, beneath trees whose leaves were turning into flowers that leaked sickly sap, and whose bark creaked and burgeoned with unnatural life.

The instinct of those under my command filled me.

Yearning for warmth and life. The feel of love and affection. A lust of essence and admiration. Each one threatened to overtake me, but I held firm through my simple immaturity. I am not yet whole. Love. Lust. Need. All cannot yet be for I am not yet capable of such things. Thus, the same was for my soldiers, even though they felt the hunger themselves, I contained it for them in turn. 

So, I looked upon the grouping of humanity, clad in armor, and fulfilling their edicts, and vanished the helm which obscured my face. The rot spread in my wake, while a ripple of fear clawed through the armored ranks of the humans before me.

“Monster!”

“Whore!”

“Slattern!”

Their words swept over me without meaning, like air bereft of purpose, as I gave them my verdict. 

“Leave this place. It is mine to take.” In the clearing, I saw the impressions of the same vehicle which devastated my fortress. Scales of Wyverns, as well as Harpy feathers, littered the ground. Upon many tree branches were the markings of clawed feet. The scent of others like me and my fellow riders lingered in the clearing. Each one tinged with his scent. They will die as well, if they cross my presence. “You will not be pursued. Flee. Leave this place… or become part of my hunt.”

Hunt. 

Yes. 

HE was my prey. A being for me and mine to slaughter. Everything else mattered not. 

Not humanity.

Let alone lust.

We will ride, take, and embolden ourselves until our prey is no more.

Until we are whole. 

A man stepped forward amongst them; bereft of hair, stern of features, and eyes filled with fury. His armor was thick and heavy, but a heavy, leather tome hung from his neck, and was laid against a tabard that depicted a golden fist rising from a sea of thorns. Might and righteousness suffused him, clinging to his form like a sheet of rippling, incandescent armor. A sense of familiarity clung to his features, but I willed them away, as a snarl came upon his lips, as he readied his hammer and rallied his companions. 

“Foul beast, you will find that we are not as weak as the cretins who once dwelled in this land. Our souls are stronger, and our power unquestioned!” Light flowed forth from him. The corruption that lurched for him burnt away. My soldiers and my steeds all shied away, before I controlled them in the face of the pillar of light that a singular man has become. “The ones who shall be found wanting is you, despicable creature, for you and your kin now face those truly blessed by the gods!”

A roar left his lips, as power fell upon him. The armor he wore creaked and groaned, as plates were filled and chain stretched. Each soldier at his back gained power, as well. Each one became titans of faith and might, wielding weapons that coursed with flame, and armor which drove away the darkness. 

I smothered the desire to take them alive, to risk my life in exchange for theirs, and held out my hand, while calling upon the abyss to which I’d become familiar.

Light gave way to shadow.

Boasts became screams.

Flesh into flame.

Then, finally, foes into allies. 

I left my horse, as they rose from the corrupted land created by my fel deed and entered the cave from which HE had led his assault. 

Nothing else mattered.

…

More.

I needed more.

More souls and more power.

The cavern spoke to me, through knowledge which had been kept, and through my newfound senses of that singular fact. 

The scent of dozens upon dozens of capable, powerful beings filled the cavern. The scent of enchanted metal for both weapons and armor lingered in the air. The remains of smokeless fires, discarded rations, and excess supplies littered the cavern. There were even signs of luxuries, such as beddings and spare clothes. Emptied, burnt crates of supplies, some which held the sickly scent of the flames which took my old life, filled the entire back of cave.

HE truly had an entire nation at his back, which he composed into a singular point to strike, and which he will undoubtably spread around him to protect himself.

In order to achieve my aim, I must also crush what he has created.

And, for that, I needed an army, while bereft of a nation myself. 

Or was I?

More soldiers will come. The destruction of Arundel threatened the entire Frontier. Troops will come to reinforce it, to strike back, and to destroy HIM.

However, they will all falter and fail before him.

But not I.

And, with their lives already forfeit from their imminent demise, they are better used by myself as one of my cadre. I will use the lives that will be lost in the land he calls HIS. Like the ones I faced here, I will take away their feeble flesh, and turn them into creatures which can survive, fight, and be victorious against the most despicable of creatures. With them, with my fellows, and with my allies, I will hunt HIM down, despite every creature, challenge, and obstacle he places between him and myself. 

I will not rest, until his head is in my hands, and his skull a prize upon my saddle.

So, I shall not rest, until I have enough both flame and shadow at my back to wage my war against him.