"Firstly, I want you to kill me," it rasped out as a command, its grin twisted and bloodthirsty. "And secondly to reign chaos upon all of them and everything they are involved with till they and all they are involved with are entirely destroyed or you die trying! I want things to burn, to be destroyed, for blood to flow and worlds to be shattered! I want my former bosses and their bosses' heads removed from their bodies along with destroying them all in every way possible including the old ones and should you die I want it to be as you drag as many of them down with you as you possibly can!" The sheer vitriol and despair in its voice filled the room, painting a bleak picture of its past torments that set the girls on edge.
John's initial reaction was a slow blink before a furrowing of his brow escalating of its second demand. He was more than willing to kill him, that might not be too difficult considering its restraints. But then came the tidal wave: chaos, destruction, rivers of blood, shattered worlds, decapitated bosses and these ancient ones? To either achieve all that or die trying? It was a cosmic shopping list of annihilation, utterly overwhelming in its scope that he was asking John to accomplish for him. Yet, despite the impossible scale he slowly nodded. It was already in line with his own goals, as difficult and impossible as it might seem it was still something he wanted to achieve. The imp's wording was carefully crafted even in its madness, it would have locked him into it: "to do it or die trying." If he hadn't broken the oath and promise with John first, it would have left him no escape, no easy way to say no or with a way out.
But even without the weight of the pact his mind looked for a loophole. The imp had never specified that he had to wield the blade himself, to do it all himself and by his own hand. He could set things in motion, manipulate events or have others act in his stead and still have it count. A small, almost imperceptible sense of relief briefly flickered within him upon realizing that specific loophole he could exploit, a tiny crack in the monumental burden he had just accepted.
Slowly John's chains began to stir, rising around him like angry serpents, two became four, then four became eight, multiplying and thinning out from the two that Lesh used to the many, thinner, small linked chains he now had. They continued their eerie splitting and multiplying until sixty-four slender chains, each gleaming with a dull sheen, were all pointed directly at the imp. His gaze elsewhere and unfocused for a moment, preparing to once more spill blood with his own hands, even if the imp wasn't human, it was still a fully sentient being he was about to kill.
A final, solemn nod was all the warning the imp received. With a sudden, brutal efficiency, all sixty-four chains launched forward. they struck various points of the imp's weakened body to create a grotesque spiderweb of metallic death to quickly end its life, something he knew was only possible because of how weakened it was. The impact of the chains came with sickening squelches and created a massive, bloody mess. It's dark, viscous blood slowly ran down the chains, some dripping onto the floor. The imp's form crumpled over before mysteriously began to flake away, dissolving into faint motes of dust. Whether this was the natural death process for its race or through the manipulation of some other force, he wasn't sure. All he truly knew was that he even if the imp broke their deal, he would see it through in his own way as it was something he had already planned to do. Even so it didn't stop the bile from rising in his throat, it took all his strength not to throw up, the metallic tang of fresh blood overwhelming his senses as he once more registered the terrible finality of taking a life reminding him of the first time.
A searing, burning sensation suddenly brought his attention to his right hand. There, on the back of his palm, a mark began to form. It wasn't just appearing but rather etching itself into his flesh with an agonizing, molten heat. He watched with a mix of amazement and horror as intricate curves and bold lines intertwined with a runic circle blooming from its center. Initially a vibrant, almost liquid blood-red, it slowly began to deepened, turning an obsidian black as it settled into his skin like a permanent, fearsome tattoo making him feel uneasy but also rather angry at the Imp, even in death seemingly pulling tricks.
Oddly, he didn't feel upset about it. Instead feeling a strange sort of clarity wash over him. If anything, he seemed to feel more motivated, he felt as if that mark had gotten rid his previous indecisiveness, even the sick feeling of killing the imp seemed muted now, the internal conflict that had gnawed at him previously was gone, replaced by a singular, unyielding urge to achieve his goals.
He was broken out of his deep contemplation by Alice who moved swiftly, gently wrapping her arms around him from behind, her embrace a warm, comforting anchor against the cold reality of the moment and causing him to snap out of the cold state he found himself falling into.
"Damn, when you go for the kill, you're as decisive as Light," Ash commented, a newfound respect lacing his voice. "You didn't even blink and stared him right in the eyes as you obliterated him. I guess you aren't as hopeless as you first seemed. Able to be cold and ruthless when needed." He earned a sharp glare from Alice, but her expression softened to one of profound concern as she looked at John.
Her voice was a soft balm against the raw edges of his soul, a stark contrast to the violence he had just enacted. She held him tighter, her head resting against his back and he could feel the tremor in her words. "John? Next time please let me do it," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "When you need to kill, I'll be your blade okay? You're too good, too soft to take a burden like this. Its fine if its in fights its fine but to kill in cold blood isn't for you, I don't want this to stain your hands further. I don't want you ending up turning into something you're not. I don't want you losing that innocent light and gentleness you have… there's already too little of that left in the world now, I don't want you to lose your warmth, your light, your softness or yourself..." The last part was barely a whisper, laden with a fragile sadness showing her vulnerability to him.
Saya, who had been observing from a slight distance, stepped forward. Her voice was calm but held an undeniable weight of experience. "Our place is not to change the world, but rather to not let the world change us. You should remember that mister leader. Show a hard, solid front to everyone, even if it's a mask or fake. Make them believe it and fear you, never giving in in front of others no matter what happens and never let them see your weakness or softness. Make those who follow you revere you as a god and your enemies fear you like the devil. Do what you must and keep going, forward but being careful to never forget who you really are, your end goals. Find some people to trust and be your honest, open self with. Show your weakness to them, letting them help carry your burden and support you but never in front of those who follow you, keeping it to only a select few, else you might break or become something worse in all their eyes." With her piece said Saya turned and began to walk away, leaving them to ponder her words.
John finally let out a small, almost self-deprecating laugh, the sound a strange blend of weariness and acceptance. "You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain, right? Well, I am not dead yet and still have too much to do to allow myself to die anytime soon, so I might as well embrace it and become a true villain in the eyes of everyone else huh." Unbeknownst to them, Saya, as she walked away, allowed herself a small knowing smile, feeling a warm pride that she had finally managed to do more than torture or kill.
Gently ruffling Alice's hair, John patted his gut with a mock serious expression. He couldn't help but try to uplift the mood, "Well, a chubby villain since no way in hell am I going to ever try to slim down. If it starts happening, I will cross rivers of fire and lakes of ice if it means finding some way to put the weight where it belongs, being chubby is key to me being me and is where I keep all my good, light side of things. Without it I'd probably a dark and evil superman." He joked, causing Alice to chuckle softly, a welcome sound after the tension. Saya almost stumbled having faintly heard the absurdity of that last part, a ripple of amusement passing through her as she tried to picture him as an 'evil superman' but failing horribly as she shook her head, feeling her leader may be exactly what she wanted. A 'chubby villain' seemed like the perfect oxymoron, a testament to his refusal to let the darkness consume him entirely. Becoming an anchor, his secret weapon against becoming truly monstrous and allowing his darkness to consume him. "This," he declared, patting his stomach with mock gravity, "is where I store all my good intentions, my moral compass, my inconvenient sense of right and wrong. If I lose this, I lose me and will truly become an inhuman monster." His words caused Alice to giggle softly and even Ash couldn't help but smile.
"Ooooh, so like the Nazi vampire major who was half cyborg?" Ash asked with a grin, wanting to get in on this, hoping to become close to him and fix the no doubt rough image she had created previously.
John shook his head immediately. "No, no, he had too many holes in his character. I mean, not only was that cyborg thing never really explained, but I truly feel the abridged did it far more justice than the original. Besides, I was thinking more like Kingpin from the original Spider-Man or Majin Buu, good and playful well fat but when thinned down no longer having that goodness and becoming a true evil menace." He explained, bringing Alice around to his front and gently patting her head. He then shared his future plans with the pair, starting with the immediate task of find a merchant or vending machine, a small, practical first step on his newly solidified, villainous path to ensure a constant and steady supply of goods to build their future empire.