Her hands hovered uselessly over the wound. She'd seen injuries like this before. In fact, she had caused them herself in the wars of her homeland. That's why she knew firsthand this wasn't something that could be healed with medicine or magic. This was death, pure and simple.
"How could I have let this happen?" Despite only meeting Akuma recently, her voice carried the weight of a lifetime's worth of regret. "If only my power wasn't sealed... If only I had been faster, stronger..."
Warm droplets fell from her eyes, mixing with Akuma's blood. Thinking back, she couldn't remember the last time she cried. She hadn't cried after losing thousands of men to war. She hadn't cried when on the verge of death. She hadn't even cried when her kingdom fell before her eyes. And yet, she was crying now. Each drop that landed on Akuma's face seemed to carry a piece of her breaking heart.
"This is my fault. I brought this to you. I killed you with my carelessness and ignorance. I am so sorry, Akuma. I am so, so sorry."
The boy beneath her stirred slightly, his lips moving as if trying to speak. But no sound came out. Just the wet, labored breathing of someone whose time was running out.
Both demons moved into position for the final strike. Golden light gathered at the bird demon's beak and the shadow demon's fingertip, building to a crescendo that would erase both Wujing and Akuma from existence.
As the light reached its peak, Wujing closed her eyes and waited for the end. Akuma had also closed his eyes, but because his strength was slipping out of him. Then…
"Promise me, Akuma. Promise me you'll grow up to be the kind of hero that can do good deeds even while hurting."
Those words simply wouldn't leave him. Akuma's memory only dated back to 4 years ago. Like there was a massive, steel gate warding off his childhood.
Only one memory had managed to slip through the crack of that gate.
He could faintly make out an older woman extending her pinky to him. With how giant her silhouette was, he must've been a child at the time.
"Promise me, Akuma. Promise me you'll grow up to be the kind of hero that can do good deeds even while hurting."
Such an odd promise. But all the same, those words never left him.
"Promise me…"
That time felt different. Instead of the mysterious woman from his past, it was his own voice, but it didn't sound like an inner monologue. It sounded as if someone else had replicated his voice and was speaking telepathically inside his head.
Akuma opened his eyes, finding himself sprawled out in a void. Was he already dead? Was this the heaven he sought after? How ironic it would be if his paradise was nothing.
"Why is it that you always find yourself in these situations?" A voice spoke to him from all angles.
"Isn't it obvious? The world clearly hates me… Everyone hates me." Akuma replied dismissively.
"Everyone? Tell me… Are you certain of that?"
"Without a doubt in my mind."
"Hm… Okay then explain the girl crying above you right now."
The city had been replaced by a void so Akuma couldn't see her. And yet, the sound her tears echoed in his mind as she were right there beside him. He could almost see her pained expression.
"…Who the hell are you, anyways? My alter ego or something? Please don't tell me you're my inner demon or something cliché like that. That'd be so lame."
A figure stepped through the void.
"Why you speak as if we haven't already met."
Standing above his sprawled-out body was an angel wearing a prisoner's uniform with a shackle over his left wrist. Those characteristics were unmistakable to him. The only difference was that instead of his usual appearance of a 10-year-old child, they looked about as old as he did.
If he had the strength, a bitter laugh might've escaped him.
"This makes what, the 2nd time I died? If you're gonna be my guardian angel or whatever, can you at least actually guard me? Dying suck, you know. Also, you mind telling your buddy to stop destroying my city?"
The angel shrugged.
"My buddy, huh... I wouldn't go that far. In the first place, who even says I'm your guardian angel? I could be the final boss for all you know."
"Right… I forgot how lame you are. I'm starting to miss when you don't talk."
"How very rude of you. I should just let you die, shouldn't I? …Oh well. I'll see you again soon enough. Also, we both know you have more than enough power to stop those demons yourself. All you have to do is repeat the same words you did back then."
The void blinked out of existence, and Akuma returned to the scene of the clear sky and his city. No, that wasn't quite accurate. Before him was not just a clear sky, but the golden, circular image of a brawny man.
"I swear. This world is so full of shit." Then he uttered these words as if they were a chant. "Constellation Art. Unique Star: Hercules."
Concrete split like dried earth around Akuma's broken body. Buildings groaned in protest, their steel frames twisting like sponges. Windows exploded in perfect synchronization for blocks in every direction, causing glass to rain like fallen stars.
The golden light that threated Wujing and Akuma spiraled and absorbed into Akuma's ravaged form. The sensation was akin to a sun being trapped inside his body.
The hole in his chest knitted back together and destroyed organs reappeared and sealed themselves with wet, gushy sounds. From the way he gracefully rose from the concrete, you'd question if he were ever injured.
Two arms of pure light unfurled from his back, reaching toward the heavens like a prayer in physical form. A shackle-like halo materialized above his head. His black hair began to bleach itself white, the change creeping from root to tip like frost spreading across a window.
"Sorry to ruin the moment, Wujing. But I made a promise to someone to be the greatest hero in the world. And if you ask me, there wouldn't be a better moment than right now."
Wujing's eyes widened like circus balloons.
"How did you… Your hair. And that smell. And your wound… But that's impossible."
"Impossible, huh? Tell me… Are you certain about that?"
"Akuma. If my eyes do not deceive me, then you… You are…"
Many people have the delusion that they actually matter. They convince themselves that they will become something in life and that someday their misfortune will turn around. In some cases, they even tell themselves that misfortune doesn't even exist and is simply a concept created by perspective. Then they try their damn hardest to ignore the fact that someone out there won the lottery 3 times while they're stuck in the perpetual cycle of a 9-5.
Here's the truth for you losers. The world has favorites.
It's heartbreaking, but some people were simply born more favored than others. Some were born with wealthy parents. Some can ace any test without ever feeling the need to study. And some were born with the ability to pull 5-star gacha first try.
And very rarely, there are even those greedy enough to hoard all three.
There's a name for pigs like that. Saints. They are identifiable by a birthmark somewhere on their body and they wield the power of a Unique Constellation.
To clarify, the boy named Akuma Tiryns falls under a strange and absurd blend of the two. He is both someone who has deluded himself into thinking all men are equal, and someone who has experience firsthand that they aren't. For that is the essence of his story. His life dances between fantasy and reality. He is…
"The AntiGod."