In a dimly lit imperial room, Seraphius Corvun sat, legs crossed in a relaxed pose, sipping some of the finest wine life had to offer.
"Nyx... today is a wonderful day, wouldn't you agree?" he said, attempting to loosen her visibly tightened expression.
"My Lord," Nyx replied, her voice wavering slightly. "You have never been this calm. It bothers me to think that you've already foreseen a great calamity falling upon this world."
"Hahaha... you know me too well, Nyx," Corvun said with a deep, theatrical sigh. "Let's just see how it all plays out, shall we?"
"If this world is destroyed, then part of your abilities are also restricted due to energy-based theoretical laws!" Nyx yelled, her composure cracking.
"Calm down, Nyx. What exactly do you want me to do?" Corvun replied, walking out onto his imperial court. He held some food in his hand, idly feeding the crows that perched on the railing. "I can't help but find my bond to this world rather... appalling."
He looked out over his bleak dimension. "An outreach... I want every existing being to know my power and accept my salvation. It will all be for the greater good."
"Have you considered the lives you're letting at stake?!" Nyx yelled.
"Nyx, this cause is rather inevitable," Corvun replied, his voice losing its playful edge. "A higher force is at play here."
Nyx gave him an angry stare before calming herself, her loyalty warring with her fear. "Nonetheless, I'll believe you have it all under control. But I will still fight to keep this world standing. It's what I've trained for all my life."
"Well... suit yourself," Corvun replied with a shrug, turning back to his observation screen. "The stage has already been set."
The Unquenchable Blaze
"Solen... Solen...!"
A gasping messenger barged into the Junior Saints' quarters. Solen had only just returned from the dimensional battle, his body still aching.
Lucen, laying on the upper bunk, groaned. "What again? Can't we get a break?"
The messenger staggered, clutching his chest. "Y-your...Orphanage..."
Hearing this, Solen jumped from his bed with a speed that startled everyone, and followed the messenger in a dead sprint. Orin and Lucen, sensing the sudden terror, followed close behind.
They burst into Father Lucent's office. The Father's face was worn with a look of profound sorrow and grief.
"What's going on!" Solen yelled, his voice already cracking.
"During the time you were on the mission to retrieve Celeste... something happened," Father Lucent said, his voice heavy. He paused, struggling to find the words. "The orphanage where you came from was caught up in a sulphuric, unquenchable blaze. Investigators reported... they called it flames that spawned from hell."
"So... that means..." Solen's voice was barely a whisper. "They're all... gone?"
Father Lucent didn't reply. His grief-stricken expression said it all. They were all caught in the fire. Burnt to death.
Gasp... gasp... gasp...
Solen struggled to breathe, his heart hammering against his ribs as if trying to escape. "THIS CAN'T BE! NO! NO! NO! THIS CAN'T BE!" Solen yelled, collapsing as he burst into uncontrollable, gut-wrenching tears.
Lucen and Orin immediately rushed to comfort him, holding him up as his body convulsed with sobs.
"I DIDN'T PROTECT THEM... HOW COULD I... WHAT'S THE POINT OF ALL THIS THEN?!" Solen sobbed into his hands.
Celeste, who had followed them, stood in the doorway, silent tear drops falling down her own face.
"Celeste said she recognizes the lingering dark energy signature from the ashes," Father Lucent said, his voice heavy with grim confirmation. "She pinpointed it to be, undoubtedly, Seraphius Corvun."
A quick flashback of Corvun's cold, regal face flashed in Solen's mind.
"I see... so he's the one," Solen said, his sobs quieting as a terrifying, cold calm began to settle over him. He wiped the tears from his face. "I'd like to leave the Sanctuary for some time. Alone. No one should follow me."
Solen slowly walked out of Father Lucent's office, ignoring the calls of his friends. He went to his room, changed into his regular hoodie, and left the Sanctuary grounds.
The Stage of Despair
Solen finally arrived at his burnt orphanage. It was now just a site of ruins and ash. Tears poured down his eyes again as he stared at the desolation, memories of laughter, of Granny Smiles, of Oberon... all flooding his mind.
Suddenly, he stood up straight, his eyes emanating a faint, radiant glow.
"I know you're there," he said, side-eyeing a portion of space that seemed entirely empty.
A dark cloak started to form from the shadows, and a ghostly, avatar-like figure of Seraphius Corvun emerged, his arms crossed.
"You're truly fascinating," the avatar's voice echoed. "Even in the midst of all this... and not a single shred of rage within you?"
"Did you do this?" Solen asked, his voice flat.
"Indeed. It's all part of your growth, child," the avatar replied. "Why won't you show me the beast you've locked within? What your existence stands for... it truly irritates me."
"What did you gain by doing all this? What point did you try to prove?" Solen asked, his hands clenching at his sides.
"That even the purest of Saints can fall into depravity!" the avatar's voice boomed. "Knowing that, why stand against the very true nature of your own hearts?! You've all misled humanity to believe in a peaceful world through the salvation of light. That is but a blind illusion! True salvation comes where death lies!"
The avatar gestured to the ashes. "Pain, struggling, and strife are all packages that come along with this lie you Saints have spread, standing before them as Beacons of Hope in a world where only the fittest truly survive."
"Now... be the first to show this world how bright a dark star can shine," the avatar grinned, its voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "The stage has been set. Let your rage fuel the performance."
From his imperial chamber, Nyx looked in shock as she watched the conversation occur on the conjured screen. "I see... so that's what he did back then," she confirmed in her thoughts.
Solen stood silent for a long moment, then let out his breath. A heartfelt, sorrowful smile touched his lips. He turned and walked past the avatar, as if all it said meant nothing.
"One thing for sure is that you've set a stage," Solen said, his voice quiet but unbreakable. "One set for your destruction."
He stopped and turned, his eyes and his fists emanating the same radiant, holy glow.
"You who currently stands as the ultimate threat to humanity shall one day die by these fists."
"I see... so that's your answer," the avatar said, its smile fading as it slowly vanished into nothingness.
Solen stared up at the sky as the wind caressed his skin, blowing the ashes of his past around him. "I see... becoming a Saint is no small task... This power... I'm finally beginning to understand my purpose."
Solen walked out of the burnt site, bidding a final, silent farewell to his fallen companions. He was no longer just a boy. He was a guardian who had paid the price of admission.
Solen roamed through the bustling city streets, detached from the crowds around him. He put an earpiece in, turning on a playlist of good songs, letting the music try to calm the deep, aching void in his soul.
Suddenly, a sharp, spiritual sensation gripped his chest. It wasn't the familiar, sickly thrum of a Vice. This was something else a light that was being tainted, like a clean cloth being dipped in ink.
The feeling was coming from a shop nearby. He walked closer, peering through the glass.
Inside, he saw a young man yelling at his workers. "You stupid, incompetent fools! How many times have I told you this is not how it's done!" the young man raged.
What shocked Solen the most, however, was the presence of another, ghostly young man standing directly behind him. The ghost was placing his hands over the yelling man's mouth, and while the words still seemed to get through, with every curse he laid, the ghostly young man's hands turned a deeper, sicklier shade of black.
The man, George, stopped yelling and stormed back into his office, slamming the door with force. The ghostly figure walked out of the shop and sat down heavily on a bench in front of it, looking exhausted.
Solen approached the ghost. "What happened back there?" he asked quietly.
"Well, nothing really much..." the ghost replied, his expression dull and tired. He paused, then his spectral form nearly jumped out of its skin. "Wait... EH?!?!?! You can see me?!"
"Well, pretty much. I just talked to you, didn't I?" Solen said with a faint, tired chuckle as he sat down beside the ghost.
"I'm Judge," the ghost introduced himself, still stunned.
"I'm Solen. What was with that guy in there?"
"That's George Washington... an old friend of mine," Judge replied.
Solen analyzed the memory. "He doesn't seem to carry any negative energy... so why was he shutting George's mouth?"
"Why were you shutting his mouth, though?" Solen asked.
"Hmm. Just like you, George is rather... unique," Judge said, looking at his own blackened hands. "You see, at certain times, things he decrees with his mouth... they tend to happen. He actually used to be such a sweet soul, but after my death, he changed completely. Bitterness took over his soul."
Judge's form flickered with sadness. "He started hurling curses at people, and at various occasions, it would make their lives miserable. Deep down, I know it's the grief my death caused him that made him this way, so I had to step in. I saw these inscriptions on my hands," he held them up, "and somehow discovered that they can absorb curses. So I started staying on standby, using them to protect others from him. I have high hopes for him..."
"But the ultimate price to pay is your hands themselves," Solen said, staring at Judge's hands, which looked decayed and on the verge of disintegrating.
"Yeah," Judge said, his voice shaking. "It's also my ultimate fear, too. If I go, no one will be able to take my place."
Solen looked down. "I understand you. Something just happened at the orphanage where I was raised... and I couldn't do anything. You going the extra mile to protect your friend in this state... it says a lot." He looked back at Judge, his gaze sharp. "But you're killing yourself. Every curse you absorb means you're tainting your soul with sin. Yet you know this and still choose to protect him?"
Judge chuckled, a sad, hollow sound. "Being a guardian doesn't always come comfortably. It can come in really depressing ways as well, to test our resolve. But nonetheless, I've chosen to walk this path. I'll put my faith in today and hope for a brighter tomorrow!" Judge spoke with a big, radiant smile.
For a moment, Solen could almost see the smiles of everyone from his orphanage in that single expression. "I see... so that's it. Their spirits are also guiding my path, too," Solen thought, clutching his chest.
A phone call buzzed in his pocket, breaking the moment. He quickly stood up and went to the other side of the road to answer it.
"Yo, Solen!" Orin's voice chirped. "Hope you aren't planning on doing anything drastic?"
"Nah. I'm not that kinda guy," Solen said, a real, slight chuckle escaping him.
"Lucen's been acting like a tough guy, but he's been worried sick about you as well," Orin added.
"You big mouth! Who told you to say that!" Lucen's voice yelled in the background before the call ended.
"Tehehe... Orin and Lucen are always at it."
When Solen looked across the road, Judge was gone. He looked through the shop's window and saw him, his hands once again over George's mouth. But this time it was different. The curse was too strong. The black decay was emanating from Judge's hands and visibly spreading throughout his ghostly body, destroying him.
"This is bad!" Solen gasped, sprinting back to the shop. "If this keeps up and Judge keeps on absorbing the curses, he could be reborn as a Vice due to the amount of negative energy he has absorbed!"
He burst through the door just as George was screaming at another terrified worker. "You can't even give me accurate calculations for common sales in the past week? How stupid and useless can you be!"
"You lazy, good-for-nothing, idio—"
SLAP!
The sound was sharp, echoing through the silent shop. Solen had slapped George hard across the face, hard enough to send his nose bleeding immediately. The curses stopped.
"How dare you," Solen said, his voice low and trembling, not with fear, but with righteous fury. "How dare you talk to your fellow human like that! Maybe it's because you're too blind to see it! Your heart has been shrouded with hate and bitterness! Look around you... these are people that are willing to serve you with all their hearts. They deserve rewards, not your curses!"
Solen stepped closer, his eyes glowing. "Do you even know the unseen implications of what you're doing to this people?! My orphanage was just burnt down along with everyone in it," Solen's voice broke, but he didn't stop. "Till today, I still wish that they were alive, so I could tell them all the sweetest words possible."
He looked at the stunned, bleeding man. "This version of you.....Judge wouldn't have loved to see this."
George looked at Solen in absolute shock, hearing his lost friend's name. The anger drained from his face, replaced by a wave of crushing remorse. He stumbled backward, then quickly went into his office and locked the door.
Solen left the shop and went to sit back on the bench, his heart pounding. After a few minutes, Judge's spectral form reappeared, sitting next to him. His hands... they were no longer black and decayed. They were whole.
"He's reverted all the curses... and found mercy with the Almighty," Judge said, his voice light and free. He began to slowly dissipate into shimmering golden light. "I can now rest in peace... Thank you, Solen!" Judge showed his final, grateful smile before leaving this world for good.
Solen stood up from the bench, his heart still heavy, but his resolve harder than steel. He began his walk back to the Sanctuary.
"Wait!" George ran out of the shop, his face stained with tears and blood. "Please... let me treat you to something good. You've... you've saved my life by giving me a reason to reflect back on my actions and how do you know Judge?."
Solen turned and gave him a big, genuine smile. "Save it for another day, then...as well as your questions"
"What's your name then, young lad?" George asked.
"Solen Pyrex," Solen said, as he left the shop and returned to the Sanctuary, his path as a guardian now clearer than ever.