A weathered figure was walking across the outer edges of Bastion. He wore a mask with unsettling dark discs for eyes, protruding a beak with metal stitching covered along the snout. He was wearing a withered hood, a broken cape, and an illustorious armour lined with darkness and light alike.
In ancient times, he would be mistaken for a vital healer, working for the poor. But due to his luck, he had no patients.
He had noone, really.
Reaching Trandsendence two months ago, Vincent was more powerful than few could even dream of, but that came at a cost. He wasnt expecting to become a Saint, but it was his only minute chance of survival.
A year ago, he was fighting under the House of Night. There, he made most of the friends, made his first ever true bonds, and found some worth fighting for, since his hometown was besiged by a frightening monster that he was searching for currently.
A mad exiled prince from Valor, the Prince of Nothing, besiged Vincent and his cohort. Vincent assumed due to his coordination with his group, and tests by the spell and the realm, this prince would fall like everyone else.
But, alas, despite their own harrowing jorneys, they had never met a creature of such profane power as Mordret, that bastard.
In short, his entire cohort was slain and assimilated into his army. Vincent was only able to survive by entering the Third Nightmare. Vincent miracolously became the second awakened in known history who sucsessfully survived the Third Nightmare alone, behind the Princess of War, and fittingly Mordrets sister, Morgan of Valor.
Yet, the entire Dream Realm was unaware. Vincent hadnt mustered up the corague to return to society. The besigement was traumatising, and the nightmare was anything but detremental to vincents fatigue. He had spent his last seven years constantly fighting for his life on a daily basis, and the nightmare showed Vincent one too many Armageddons to handle. He was barely alive due his broken mental state, and wouldve barely begun healing his downright obliterared body if not for the spells mercy.
But, he couldnt be loitering for long. He had a world to save, after all.
He only knew a few things about his present world. The sovereigns, Anvil and Ki song, had been repremanded and slain for their fraudulency for not fighting the spell since Vincents departure, by Changing Star, and the unexpected arrival by another powerhouse, the Lord of Shadows. Changing Star then proceeded to slay the nebulous Shadow, but Vincent couldnt simply accept a person could die by something as simple as a stab to the heart, as the Shadow had done so mere minutes before.
Now, she was, to the public, the only Sovereign left in humanity. Vincent knew too well this wasnt the case. He had unfinished buisness with a vile Dreamspawn, banished from the world.
Vincent had another suspicion, that these two new rulers of a world, and the pesky prince, possibly even others, were equipped with Divine Aspects. Their power and Aspects were simply too powerful, too strong, too harrowing to be anything else.
Vincent knew this power all too well. In fact, if he ever became a Sovereign, his aspect would evolve to one akin to Divine, but not quite.
Rather it would be both Divine, and Unholy.
***
Vincent found his temporary home, a barren cave, with a sleeping bag, candle, and various items he found in ruins before the Spell. He made himself a nice assortment of mythical vegetables and monster meat, grabbing out a plate and set of cutlery.
He always enjoyed eating lavishly, as it was one of few memories still kept in his brain of his family.
"Ah, ive still got it."
Despite being carved from an abomitation, the meat was spectacular, and the vegetables were pure.
Turning on an ancient music player, he listened to a man called "Jay Eye D?" He didnt really get the name, but the voice was eloquent, and harsh, and he found himself listening to the ancient music often. He hummed along, drifting alseep.
Or at least he wanted to. The world shuddered, as if it just realised it was infected with a parasite.
Vincent lazily left the cave, yawning, rolling his shoulder.
"Alright. Who wants to die?" He cracked his neck, loosened up, and cleared the dark pupils in his mask.
He found his answer quite hastily.
Before him, a beast the size of a ten story building was looming over his humble abode. It was an ashy grey feline like beast, with holeless sockets for eyes, and degrading, rotting flesh, leaving most of its bones in its joints and ribcaged exposed, its guts barely hanging to the ivory bones. A Corrupted Demon, to be precise.
"You wretched thing, beyonder. All i wish for is rest, and you send me a feral cat. Not even a cute one, at that!"
Vincent sighed, and a whirlwind of sparks appeared at the palms of his hand, revealing two Wakizashis, one made of brilliant light, and the other of menacing darkness. They seemed to cut reality itself, emitting an aura around each forearm, seemingly adding vigor to his limbs.
"And yet, out of all places, you decide to come to my door. You poor poor creature. So unlucky."
Vincent tensed, and his body permeated pure pink energy. Thunderous lightning of the same pigment struck from the heavens, creating a storm of pure malice surrounding the cave and the abomination.
Vincent, behind the mask, smiled darkly. The tiger straightened, and roared at the man, determination in its eye sockets.
But, Vincent didnt buy it.
All he could smell was fear.
"Lets see what you've got, you annoying fluffball."