Chapter 2: Mirrors of the Past

Watching. It was a regular thing for this beast of the night. This monster that had crawled up from the bowels of the earth. The moment he had emerged, a hand was needed to pan the light from his face. A sun he had not seen in far too long. Jack Wiseman was looking for someone. Where to find this person. He hadn’t a clue. This story all started back when the dawn first kicked off. Back when Jack had little idea of his nature, or his true calling. Back when he had the mindset of, of well a human. When he had awakened he knew he was different from this girl. For one.. He couldn’t actually interact with anything physical. To say it was a shock to his system was to speak in the least of terms. But it was apparently in Jacks nature to,…accept these things as inevitabilities. Accept them. Yes. But only as they were for a time. Wiseman had never let limitations fail him. Maybe that was why she had chosen to stay with him rather than leave. Or perhaps it had simply been because she needed a familiar face. He didn’t know. Still didn’t. They had spent…enough…time together. There had been a relationship. One of the main reasons Jack had stepped up his “ I must interact with the human world”. Thing. And when he did. He did. Once again. One of the more interesting things of the past two decades.
EXP:300

But things had changed. Jack. Had changed. As time went on Jack began to realise more and more that he was different from her. Different from everyone he had encountered on this plane. He had urges. Things that would have made the girl run, and that’s when he learned his true nature. An Oni. A demon. He had to leave to find his own truth. To leave her with her own kind. So that he might be with his. So that he might find the truth. But there had been no answers among the demons. Only a world of more suffering than he could ever imagine. Faced with that. Jack threw himself into the abyss. And had never looked back. Never. Until now. For that, he blamed Ceila, and to a lesser extent Jowan. Not much he could do about either of them anyways. He already planned to kill Jowan at some point and Ceila, well she was already dead. But the question was to that, whether Jowan had actually killed her. Or if her suicide in that mad library had actually been the true cause of her passing. Didn't matter much. Dead was dead after all.

But there was still this question, Ceilas objective and his old goal. Find out who he was, where he had come from and just what the hell happened to cause him to lose his memory. He didn't doubt he was older than twenty years, same with the girl. And thats where his answers lay.

There was some secret to it, that much he knew, that there was something somewhere that had done…something. So much to wonder so much to question. Nothing was certain. And yet this was, what he wanted to know. To know an impossible thing. For now, the main purpose of everything surrounding Jack was the issue of survival in hell and beyond. Spirit Hunters were effective, he was powerful. Very powerful. But even he was not immortal. The idea of claiming such nigh invincibility was far beyond him yet. He didn’t fear other creatures. At least, not yet. He had been in Terra, he had been in the underworld. And nothing he had encountered in either yet much matched his expectations for a good brawl. Well. Perhaps except Jowan. However quickly he was surpassing even his leader. Lately it felt as if, with that damned thought scarred into his mind by Ceila that he had, unlocked something. Some kind of hidden reserve of potential l that had been up till now sleeping. For his development over the past month had been litter more than astounding. His powers had grown and developed at an alarming rate. Far greater than ever before. But there would always be, limitations.

Right now Jack stood before the door to Terra, a place where he had come from and into this realm. It was odd that alone. A demon awakening from the dawn in the human world. Perhaps that’s why he was more….human appearing. Than any of the more primal demons that stalked the underworld. His return to that place would come. In time. But first he required more power. Enough power to crush anything that stood in his way. Till then. The Hyena girl would do for finding what he needed to be found. Whilst she searched. He would hunt. Kill. Devour the very life and pride of the demons of the underworld and take their strength into him. So that he could emerge from this place and march across the earth fearing no man, spirit or beast in his quest for power and truth. Today was just another step in this little journey of Jacks life.

Exp: 406
PWC:397

His first lesson in hell. This place had no victims. His sword plunged into the belly of an ogre like demon, several hands taller than him but ultimately despite its size. Weak. Everyone who came to this place did only out of choice, or perhaps damned by the very actions they did in life. Regardless. It was a struggle for survival. Eat or be eaten. Those who were killed would have only been looking to kill another. This place was little more than a jail cell, filled with murderers. As to who the warden was, that was another question. But that was a single truth. Everything here was a killer. To kill a killer is not murder. They are not a victim. With the blades withdrawl came blood and the hint of gut. The smell of the ogre creatures insides was disgusting. Terrible. Then again the beast didn’t smell much better on the outside. Why would the innards be any better? He stood above the creature. Foot on its throat. He had no patience anymore. His quest eating at him. So he would feed to restore that. Get the power he required. He felt the sweet drain of the creatures pride and alone with it flashes of memory. Its birth in the dawn. It knew no more than he did about anything. Its pride about being bigger and stronger.

And now. It had no pride. Not only because he was draining it away for sustenance. But because such a small Oni had come a long. One who it had considered weak. One who it had wanted to kill and now, it had been proven wrong. Oh so wrong. Nothing more left for this monster but further death. As it was drained of pride, honour and ambition. Its will to do anything decreased. Only breathing by a natural function. Not by choice. And so Jack drew back and hacked his blade into its throat. The jugular severed. Blood spraying over him. It was like a mist at first, and then the pressure from which it shot out, it covered this land like a blighted rain. He held out his hand catching the drops that would fall. And he laughed. Yet Jack Wiseman had not yet cottoned onto the fact that his laughter sounded all too much like the laughter of Ceila. A message for him. That he had missed.
Exp:425
PWC: 412

“ Ego es Jack deuterium vente satanacos”
- Scribbles on a wall

Caked and baked with the blood of fresh kills, filled with their essence. Their pride. Their honour. Of what little existed amongst demons. Such a feast he wasn’t used to. And yet he felt all the better for it. He felt the power roaring in his veins like a molton metal. It burned all around him. He felt things that he hadn’t before. Was it some sort of emotional connection, some sort of unlimbering truth? No. It was merely, hunger. An understanding of ust what these Darwinist creatures were trying to achieve. Power was required. But all too many like Jowan had grabbed their own land, they had held onto it with their petty little claws trying to keep it for themselves. . And yet, this struggle for power. Eventually when all had died, and upon a mountain of corpses one had climbed to the top. To be the king of this wasteland. TO be so consumed by their own power. Jack felt his heart racing. Such a thought was interesting. Tempting. Exhilarating.

He stood now on the ruins of what looked like some kind of ancient land. Something someone had tried to build. It looked far older than the dawn. Nothing like the destruction that had been ravaged on Terra or any other location in this vast wasteland of evil and devils. This looked like it had merely decayed from age. Leaving little else behind but memories. Ghosts and memories of what had been here before. Physical proof. He bent down and picked up a piece of the stone in his hands. Yet, it was and wasn’t stone. Obsidian. Volcanic glass. Something that was rare on Terra, but could be found rather commonly here. It was dense. And looked like it had been used in constructing this….well. Whatever it used to be. Temple? Building? Another mystery lost to time. Jack’s cane clicked over it as he jumped up onto the side of a toppled pillar. Cracked in several locations. It looked over a wide area of Externus.

When looking over he could help but feel it. Feel the power that had been once here. There was a reason behind everything. Wiseman knew that. Coincidence was rare. If not all together a fabrication of some sort of higher being. A puppet master pulling the strings of them all. But despite recognising this. Jack knew he was just another puppet. A darkly interesting thought, but none the less. It was something he accepted. Fate was inescapable. To attempt to do so. Is merely to invite it on the road as a travelling companion.

EXP: 497
PWC: 445