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AND Fate/DC Universe: The Master
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"Pain."
The voice came from nowhere and everywhere. Spiteful. Angry. Distant, yet pressing against Jason's mind like a blade seeking entry.
"Suffering. The poor. Sadness. Anger." Each word landed like a hammer blow. "Why must we feel them all? Why is the world so cruel? Why can a man be rich and a man be poor? Why can a man be sad and another happy?" A pause. Then, quieter: "Why not burn it all?"
Jason stood in the darkness of his own mind, searching for the source of the voice. He found nothing. Only the words, echoing off walls that didn't exist.
"Why not fix it?" he replied.
"Fix it?" The voice laughed—bitter, broken, ancient. "You think you can fix it? Greater men have tried and failed. Gods have tried and failed." The voice rose. "They only made it worse. Vile. Disgustingly evil. Every world has the same cycle. Rich on top, poor on the bottom. Loss of life. Morals. Respect. Degrading minds. Evil thoughts."
The voice was closer now. Louder.
"No matter how many times you try to fix things, evil will always prevail." A pause. "In every world."
Jason's jaw tightened. "Not all worlds are bad. There are good men and bad men." His voice was steady. "Why burn the good people?"
"BECAUSE THEY ARE PART OF THE PROBLEM!"
The voice exploded...angry, raw, tearing through the darkness like a wildfire. Jason felt the heat of it, the fury, the centuries of pain compressed into every syllable.
"The good man stays quiet as long as he's happy! Not caring for his brother or sister!" The voice cracked. "The world itself supports such things. It loves balance." The word dripped with contempt. "OH-Balance. BALANCE! The lie that is balance. When good and evil coexist..." The voice broke off, then returned, colder now. "They trick you. They establish balance. But what about the one suffering on the other side of that balance?"
A pause.
"What about them?"
Jason said nothing.
"You know the truth." The voice was closer now—inches away, breathing against his ear. "Gods. Men. Heroes. Villains. Humanity. Life itself. All of it is part of a system that creates hatred and suffering." A pause. "No one can change that."
The darkness shifted. A shape emerged...flickering, burning, walking toward him with footsteps that left scorch marks on the void.
"So I say burn it." The voice was calm now. Resigned. "Burn it all to the ground. And Incinerate all that divides and distinguishes...."
The shape stopped in front of Jason.
"Ahh may chaos take the world."
Jason looked at the man as he raised his hands up and screamed
"MAY CHAOS TAKE THE WORLD!"
It was him....
Another Jason.his face, his body, his build. But different. Wrong. His skin was burning, cracked like earth in a drought, yellow light seeping through the fissures. His eyes were yellow—not glowing, not shining, just yellow, the color of sickness and madness and something older than both. His expression was twisted, anguished, filled with a pain that had no outlet and a hatred that had no target.
The burning Jason stared at him.
Jason stared back.
Then he whispered, "May chaos take the world."
....
He woke up.
No pain. No screaming. No feeling of needles stabbing into his nerves or years of torment compressed into seconds. Just... stillness. Quiet. The absence of agony.
He was lying on the white ground of the endless desert. The sun—or whatever passed for a sun in this place—hung overhead, warm and indifferent. The flame floated nearby, yellow and dark-cored, waiting.
Gojo stood over him, looking down with an expression Jason couldn't read.
"Another two minutes," Gojo said. "Another bout of pain. Correct?"
Jason pushed himself up slowly. His body felt strange—lighter, somehow, as if something had been removed. He looked at his hands. They weren't trembling.
"No." His voice was quiet. "There was no pain at all." He looked up at Gojo. "It felt... good. For some reason."
Gojo's smile returned. He lowered himself to the ground, sitting cross-legged in front of Jason, his blindfold catching the light.
"Oh? Are you adapting?" He tilted his head. "Interesting. But adaptation isn't everything." He raised a finger. "You can't just adapt and accept. You have to reform."
Jason frowned. "What do you mean?"
Gojo was quiet for a moment, his head tilted, as if listening to something far away.
"Let me put it this way." He gestured at himself. "When I first learned of my abilities...my Six Eyes and my Void...it took training. Hardship. I had to adapt to using them." He paused. "The Six Eyes in particular were a pain. Having the ability to sense the faintest cursed energy... it ruins your other senses. You start to rely on it too much. Become complacent."
He looked down at his hands.
"It didn't happen until the day I suffered absolute defeat. I was gutted by a man with no cursed energy at all." His voice was flat, matter-of-fact. "It was then that I realized something. Adapting to my power and accepting it wasn't enough." He looked up. "I needed to reform it."
Jason waited.
"Instead of me mastering my power..." Gojo spread his hands. "My power would be reformed to fit my mastery of self." He tapped his chest. "It masters me."
He leaned back, his weight on his palms.
"So. That is my advice to you. Don't just learn to accept this power and control it." He nodded at the flame. "Mold it to your vision. Make it yours."
His smile returned.
"And I hate to give an example with him, but look at Lucifer. No matter what you can say about him..." He shrugged. "The Frenzy doesn't control him."
Jason stared at the flame. At its yellow glow. At its dark core. He thought about what Gojo had said. About molding. About reforming. About making something his own instead of simply accepting it.
He turned back to Gojo.
"Why did you ask me to go naked?"
Gojo's smile widened. "Oh, that." He waved a hand. "It just occurred to me. This power seeks to strip the world of everything." He gestured at Jason. "So to control it... doesn't that mean you have to strip away everything too?"
Jason's eyes narrowed. "So you meant it metaphorically?"
"Yes." Gojo stood up, brushing white dust from his pants. "And no." He looked down at Jason. "I think you should truly get naked. Face it head-on." He tapped his temple. "Naked in mind." He tapped his chest. "And body."
He turned to leave.
Jason watched him go. "Where are you going?"
"Back to where I belong." Gojo didn't look back.
"You aren't going to fight me?"
"Nope." Gojo's voice was casual. "I already killed you enough. I don't think you need me anymore. All the advice I had..." He shrugged. "I gave."
He paused. His head turned slightly, just enough for Jason to see the edge of his smile.
"Besides. I don't want to be the first victim of that power." His voice dropped. "Whether you control it or not... whether Sukuna does... I'm not dying to that thing." He resumed walking. "So good luck, kid."
He disappeared.
The white desert was empty. The flame floated in front of Jason. The sun hung overhead. Nothing else existed.
Jason smiled.
He stood up. Reached for the hem of his shirt. Pulled it over his head. Removed his boots. His pants. Everything. He stood naked in the white light, facing the yellow flame, with nothing left to hide behind.
"Strip yourself of everything," he said quietly. "Accept the power. Adapt to it."
He stepped closer.
"But mold it." His hand reached out. "To yourself."
He walked forward.
The flame engulfed him.
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If you Like this story! Check out my other story ! Shadow Monarch in Danmachi!
AND Fate/DC Universe: The Master
If you wish to read more or simply support me just because ? than check out my patréon at
"https://www.patréon.com/Riadooo"
You can Get Access to 3 More Chapters OR 7 More Chapters if you want !