Finally descending from the sky, Verza stood on the ground. His eyes calculated and cold despite the burning hottness he brought upon this small town, his own home. He began walking around slowly, examining everything around him. Fallen homes, shattered grounds, cracked walls, soulless corpses everywhere. Blood smeared everything around Verza, bringing a sight that would put any normal person in deapair and disgust, but it was obvious, Verza was not normal.
He took the first turn to his right, looking beneath his feet. A man lied there, his body was trembling as he was crying, touching Verza's boots and mumbling nothingnesses, begging for forgiveness.
His filthy hands were all that caught Verza's attention, the way they were black, dirty and dusty, they smeared dirt on the leather of his boots "How dare him touch a God's shoe like that?!" Verza thought to himself, pulling his shoe away, and placing it over the man's head, slowly pressing down, he wanted it to be the most agonizing it could get.
It was oppressing, both physically and emotionally, the man's soul was crushed under the cruelty after his plea was ignored, before his head was smashed by the tyrant's shoe.
His skull exploded, the sound of the bone's crushing was horrifying, blood splashed the ground and on Verza's clothes, however, the drops that touched his boots were immediately evaporated, turning into only a scent and a red haze, his body was still burning hot, like a true sun.
...
Verza walkes the road in silence, ignoring the burning town behind him -if it could still be called a town, all that was left were rumbles and charred flesh- he never left Gloria before, he only saw a silhouette of the far mountains, barely visible through the thick fog and dust that filled the air, only dreamt of seeing what's behind them. He never expected to walk out, never, not like this.
He had no idea why did he choose walking over flying, he was a towering sun he could do that, but for some reason, flying would strip something prescious from him, something he didn't quite place a hand on, but something he valued deeply.
Despite his recent distortion, Verza feared change.
The skies above him were as grim as always, he kept moving regardless, did he notice the way the 'scarf' fell off his face a long time ago? Did he notice how his palms were skinned and burnt from the spears of hellish flames he threw earlier? Did he notice how far he had walked?
Of course not. He didn't even think about it, it felt like his mind was no longer his, his thoughts belonging to another, his own body moving on the will of that other. Slow, dedicated, purposeful.
Eventually. A rise was beginning to form in the ground he was on, the slight slope that was barely noticed began to be felt from beneath Verza's feet as he approached the mountains.
The dark sky was not still anymore, a current of cold air was starting to move around, carrying the soft taste of ice in it. Despite his hotness, Verza tasted the ironic taste of the mountain's clear ice. He did taste it once, when he was a little kid, he met a scholar that roamed around, how did this scholar end up in Gloria? It was a mystery, however, that scholar had a bottle of water that tasted the same, Verza couldn't help but to smile mockingly at the human feeling of nostalgia. The past stung slightly.
His thoughts were deep and clear like his own eyes after the fusion.
"Mountains... I've always wondered what was behind here, or above here anyways. Mom said there was an edge that led to hell"
He laughed inwardly at his mother's words, a hint of a smile appearing on his mocking face.
"I doubt it's really hell, hell shouldn't feel much further than my previous life, if it wasn't already actually hell or divine punishment"
"What will i even do after all this?"
"What IS "All this?""
Verza couldn't help but to ponder over his current situation. He started to gain his lucidity -finally- and got a hold on his thoughts once more, to actually question his current position.
"I have no idea, I'm as stupid as always!"
He thought, flustered by his own ignorance, how come he never questioned Gloria, how come he never questioned the fact that he lived in a town under a gray sky, thinking he was alone in this world with nothing behind the mountains he always longed to touch. His mind was filled with internal tremors, flustration, and slight anger.
"Owl, look for the owl"
A stray thought of the other shone through his mind, burning hot, carved into his own soul, making him snap to reality and look around immediately.
On a nearby tree, on a lonely branch sat a black own, it's eyes glaring at Verza, was that a dare in the animal's gaze it?
Verza's face coldened immediately, his eyes dimmed of his humanity, Before he could think of anything on his own, he conjured a flame arrow in his right hand and tossed it with all his might, stricking the owl in its middle, burning it into ashes before it could even scream. It's ashes were thrown away by the cold, bitting wind.
Turning his head, Verza kept walking like nothing happened.
...
Nightfall was beginning. This so called nightfall was recognized from the dimming of the natural light that came from behind the fog in the sky. The sun was covered how could they know if it has set or not?
Verza unconsciously conjured a soft golden flame in his palm. Making sure to leave a few centimeters between its brilliance and the skin of his palm, Verza learnt from his previous mistake. His flame can burn him too.
Then, ever so slight, a sound of soft rumbled of snow could be heard from behind him.
"When did I reach the snow?!"
"Fuck! It happened again!"
Verza begane noticing the patterns. Zoning out, his consciousness floating away from him like a leaf on a water's surface, only to wake up an unknown time later in a different place.
It was a nightmare.
Verza's attention was caught again by that rumble, he looked behind to notice something moving beneath the snow. Uncovering itself bit by bit as it rose from the ground like a beast, which it was.
It had white fur that covered most of it's body, a large frame that towered over Verza's naturally short one, it had a black face and black hands, so as black feet, which were the only uncovered parts of it's body, the only parts clear from the white fur that perfectly fit into the snow, making it easy to miss.
It rumbled lowly, as sticky saliva dripping from its bare, sharp teeth. It's blood thirst could particularily be smelled from where Verza stood, its frame almost 6'2, while Verza barely reached 5'8. It completely towered overed him.
And it seemed to be rather hungry.