White Sun Over Paradise

Jack glanced at the magnificent work of a weapon. The blade of a longsword, the handle of a spear. It was divided with a bough of vibrant geometric scales that lights up a dust of embers floating to the air.

Judas gazed at the man in front of him, waiting for him to take the weapon.

Jack was unsure of what this truly meant. With a reluctant smirk, his hand reached for the handle.

"Looking back at it again, I'm not really sure if dying and finding the meaning of existence is truly what Cruciatus wanted. I don't really know if I'm the one who is selfish, or it's a mere misunderstanding at that part.

"As for you, Judas. Giving this weapon back to me is a sign of trust in my eyes. But I'm not strong enough to deliver this 'peace' with my current strength."

Judas let go of his grip, giving the straight and honest glaive completely to Jack. "You shan't worry, my friend. As I and the others have pledged our own to fulfill our long and final goal."

Behind Judas appeared another abstract humanoid made out of darkness, distorted by reality that turned its appearance akin to Judas, a scribbled black crayon.

Then one by one, they all manifested beside each other at faster and faster rate. Each of them were unique, some had a long single horn. Some of them had tusks. Some had a crown. Some had wings and dark halo above their head.

Some were taller than others. Some were as small as one palm. They all directed their gaze at Jack as if he was their now shepherd.

Judas straightened his posture. "We are not one, but many. The fake messiah in the name of 'Mother' had tarnished our purpose into vengeance and hatred upon the world and its residents.

"We're meant to be created, tortured, and shattered as a seal, as guardians, as protectors—to keep away the null. One of the fragments of the Great Truth, from reaching the surface.

"Since that horrible moment, since that merciless incident… We stayed firm as many, never as one.

"Thousands of years have passed, and the emergence is coming soon. Because of it, the 'Forbidden' is needed to break the balance of the world once again.

"I, Judas the Betrayer, offered you, Jack Armstrong, our sincerest help. As Cruciatus commanded: We crown the most violent to be our champion."

As soon as the last sentence was given, the rest of them chanted the same hymn.

""We crown the most violent to be our champion.""

""Neither the day nor the night, the darkness nor the light.""

""Will ever reach the surface in its Great Transcendance.""

The moment they ended their chant. Jack's vision immediately faded to black.

The moment he opened his eyes again, he was already transported back to the edge of the purple dark realm. Far and far away at the most top region of the almost never ending space.

Everything felt surreal and it was weighing his mind.

"Sephiroth, where are we?"

[You're far and far away above the exact position where the Ultimate Lifeform is located. It's so high above that one of the stretching limbs going in your direction is still within its way.]

"It seems like I need to brute force this way through, huh." A melancholic expression slipped to his face. "I didn't feel pulled to the bottom like before. In any case, there won't be any progress unless I propel myself to the ground. Ahaha."

[There is still a slight hint of gravitation, but it seems like you're too light and small to be affected at this distance.]

Within the empty space of purple darkness, appeared to be one of the tarnished souls, slowly approaching Jack.

Usually, the first instinct and reaction Jack would do would be slashing the tarnished soul with the glaive or move out of the way. But this time, he felt like it wouldn't do him any harm.

As the tarnished soul seeped itself into Jack's body, it turned into warm light. Jack felt like he became slightly heavier. Together with the glowing substances beneath his apparel and skin, the fatigue and physical pain was decreasing at an alarming rate.

The pain and the suffering that this soul had gone through, all went to Jack's consciousness. He saw through its eyes when this person didn't know anything outside of a few words learned from random muttering of someone behind a gas mask.

He acknowledged the flesh, the puking pus that came from the contamination injected to this person's body by those evil silhouettes. Jack didn't have any choice at all, but to embrace it.

Then one by one, the tarnished souls revealed themselves from the curvature of space. They began to flock into Jack's silent body. He closed his eyes, readying himself to know more.

They were attracted like bees to their honey as if they were seeking a place for comfort—a repentance for their sins. Those souls entered Jack's skin one by one, gracing it with strength and healing light. So pure and bright that it could almost consume the darkness within this realm.

Each of them have their own unique memories and vision. With every stories and painful tremor that was transferred to him, it became even more and more gruesome that he had to grit his teeth to remind himself that he had his own flesh and bones.

His body began to even weigh more and more, as if he was carrying their burden on his shoulder. Slowly, with every tarnished soul constantly reaching for Jack, he descended at an increasing velocity.

He gripped the weapon of the punisher and aimed it to the bottom as he fell. The Petra Tentacle instinctively held the handle tightly together with him.

Like an undying comet, his body glowed brighter than any star. With every sin he consumed, the pureness of the holy light became even more brighter.

"The dust shall be turned into dust, and the dust to its dust." His jet-black hair beneath the safety helmet shifted into iridescent white, together with his red eyes that were purified into a glowing orbs. Although both of them were closed, he could see through clearly as if it was naked. It was a weird experience to him, but a welcomed one.

The black fleshy portals began to spawn in rapid speed, all immediately throwing its ever stretching limb at the falling sun as if they detter it.

At the same time, a pale portal with its edge covered in armor appeared right next to each of them and threw an armored version of the stretching limbs, destroying the black portal in the process.

Hundreds of purple plasma cannons were spawned on the surface of the surviving black limbs. Then numerous small pale portals manifested near those cannons and immediately wrapped them with brute force, crushing them before the heat projectiles could even be blasted.

The dark and the pale, the flesh and the armored—all constantly cancelling each other as the falling sun directed its weapon to the source of evil.

After seeing the spectacle despite having his eyes closed, Jack subconsciously grinned.