Work Text:
If Pucci had any doubts as to the whereabouts of the being born from Dio’s bone, he need only look towards the cell block of him- where trees now soared, foliage sprang from the contorted faces of Green Dolphin's inmates, and the smell of life filled his nostrils. The quarantined block of this penitentiary was a veritable jungle, thriving without difficulty despite its concrete cage thanks to Florida's naturally hot and humid climate. It was no wonder that Pucci felt drawn to such an unusual, awe-inspiring sight- fate had guided him here, where he would attain the next step of his and Dio's heavenly plan. To evolve amongst the very foundation of Earth's incredible existence.
While he couldn’t be too sure of the mysterious being’s stand ability, or even if it had one, Pucci knew he couldn’t dawdle too long in acquiring them. The presence of this newly formed prison of green told him that the entity had already assimilated with the souls of 36 inmates- as such, the time of its birth was fast approaching. To let it fall into the hands of one so unworthy as... Pucci could hardly spare the thought. He broke into a brisk jog.
...but where could it be? Pucci guessed he need only look for something- anything- that looked out of place among the prison's sterile surroundings or even the grotesque, tree-fused corpses but there wasn't much to go off of otherwise. Life, in all its eccentricities can take many forms, the birth of which may even appear unrecognizable to one’s own species… the inmates strewn about this cell block being one stark example. What would Dio have done, he wondered, faced with such an esoteric task as finding a newborn in a sea of concrete and bark-
A newborn?
As in... a baby? Or rather, a fetus? Inside... an egg, perhaps?
Pucci squinted at what appeared to be a large, capsule-shaped object hidden in the shadow of one of the inmate's tree-sprung bodies, some several feet away. It appeared to be broken- a large gash sunk in deep across the top of its egg-like surface, as if whatever had been inside clawed its way out. Judging from the ooze still seeping from the opening, this was a fairly recent occurrence- and whatever was inside must surely be nearby.
Pucci swung his head wildly to either side of him.
Where, where, where?!
He could almost cry out in frustration. Surely, fate hadn't forsaken him so soon? Pucci was teetering on the cusp of his heavenly metamorphosis but this... 'thing' was shoving him right back.
Insolent, accursed little creature!
This was getting out of hand, and the priest was swiftly running out of patience. He was giving the newborn critter more time and attention than he had given to his own God today. To delay the heavenly plan given so graciously to him by Dio was simply criminal. Not merely a personal offence to Pucci himself- this was delaying all of mankind’s destiny . And for that, the creature needed to answer to him, immediately.
“SHOW YOURSELF, cretin! I compel you to come to me, and GUIDE my soul in fulfilling the fate that was written unto me! Come! And let us become one with the universe-”
Pucci halted with a start upon taking notice of the egg once again. Was it that… large last time he glanced at it? The egg could easily reach his shoulders now, were he to take a few more steps toward it. Perhaps he’d underestimated his initial assessment of its size earlier but that.. that’s just unheard of. How could he have gotten it so wrong? Suddenly, Pucci wasn’t so sure he’d want to encounter whatever had climbed out of this, frankly, absurd cocoon. He looked down into his palms and muttered as many prime numbers he could remember at the moment while taking another hesitant step.
No, surely, if fate or some other higher being was truly guiding him today, there had to be a reason that he was looking upon this gargantuan egg instead of whatever should have been inside it. Maybe (and this was pure speculation on his part as no mere mortal should be privy to God’s designs), this was one of His trials. He need only conquer his initial trepidation and fear to be allowed a chance meeting with this entity that will grant him access to Heaven.
Satisfied, Pucci gave another confident stride toward the egg and-
-startled at the sight of that same egg, now towering high over his head.
No… NO! It can’t be…
Pucci stumbled backwards as if pushed by a divine force. How did this thing grow to such an immense size, in such a short window of time?! Is this the creature’s doing? Surely, it must be! Surely, Pucci is not the one growing mad here. It is that Thing that has gone mad! Deliberately and, perhaps, even acting with hostile intent towards the priest, this entity has now branded itself an antichrist. This would not do, Pucci thought, and he set himself out to give it a sound beating before he is caught unawares. Heaven would have to wait.
But as he walked closer and closer to the egg, he found that its bulk continued to soar to almost impossible heights. And with a quick glance around him, so too have the trees climbed higher than they ever had been. They… should be crashing through the ceiling at this rate, should they not? So how…
Pucci allowed himself a pause. He wasn’t about to allow this creature to outsmart him (otherwise he may as well give up on this Heaven plan, and to that.. a flat No). He gave it some more thought… no, it was not the egg and these trees that were growing. Otherwise, as he’d pointed out to himself just seconds ago, they would be bursting out the seams of this concrete jail. Therefore, Occam’s Razor dictates that the only reasonable explanation for this phenomenon was that… he was shrinking, the speed of which was relative to his proximity to the egg.
Oh, woe was he.
Pucci trudged closer to the egg to confirm his suspicions. He noticed with growing alarm that indeed, he was rapidly losing height with every step, only to regain it as he retread his steps backward. There was something unnerving about this fact- that he was no closer to reaching the entity born from the egg than to the egg itself, if he could ever reach it in his lifetime. Which was increasingly turning into an improbability.
Improbable.. improbable.. Pucci despised the improbable. Anything that is improbable is consequently unpredictable and thus, a hindrance to mankind’s happiness. He returned to his prime numbers, for a reprieve against that which was variable, irregular and fluctuant, then resolved to continue his trek to the egg if only to see how far this phenomenon could stretch.
Soon, Pucci shrunk and shrunk until he was sure he could have observed the mold that grew on the tiles he walked on. It was then that he fell back and hit the ground with a sharp yelp, stricken. To be reduced to such insignificance, left floundering like an insect, as microscopic as a paramecium- bah, he wouldn’t stand for the disrespect. He was to carry out Dio’s will as his sole executor. But without the cooperation of this astoundingly bizarre entity, Pucci would execute naught but his own righteous anger on a wayward blowfly. Said fly buzzed, plump and irritable over the tiny priest’s head, searching for purchase somewhere among the great foliage around them.
Pucci swore at it, before signing a cross over his chest. The sight of the fly may have angered him, but it was still a creature of God, as equal as he. To use the Lord’s name in vain for such cruelty towards a compeer displeased him greatly… as did his previous affronts towards the entity he’d briefly dubbed “Thing.” Perhaps he was going about his quest too harshly, too irrational. Surely, even Dio wouldn’t want to meet him either should he have seen Pucci cursing and shouting and generally being a confrontational curmudgeon.
Still, the loud buzzing was starting to get to him. Pucci swat at the blowfly to no avail- the bug was not aware of the priest, yet wary still of the strange landscape- before a thought came to him. Anger turned to enlightenment. Now, his diminutive arms coaxed the fly back to him, and he watched it carefully as it made a more thorough assessment of the surface Pucci stood on. Still unaware of the other life form below it, the blowfly made its descent and Pucci made his move. He jumped and grasped onto a tendrily leg, holding on with a vice-like grip as the fly thrashed- attempting with little success of shaking whatever was pulling at its leg. But Pucci was quick- Whitesnake materialized in a flash and inserted a disc into the fly’s head, granting him complete command over the bug’s destiny.
Now with Pucci in tow- and in control- the blowfly buzzed along the tiled floor, heavy with its passenger and its own tired mass. It flew along the perimeter of the egg, now the size of a house in Pucci’s eyes, and peaked around the back of it.
There, crawling with curious intent along the floor next to its egg with a thumb in between its lips was a giant, knobbly, and very very green infant.
Pucci’s eyes went wide. This… baby had to be “it,” yes? This was the being he was fighting his sanity over, the one who’d just consumed 36 individual souls to be born into this world anew. A green and ogre-like being that radiated mostly innocence, characteristic of a human baby it resembled, rather than a heavenly entity.
To say Pucci was disappointed was an understatement, but he pressed on.
As the blowfly flew closer to the green baby, so too did the baby approach the fly, though ignorant of its presence. Realising this, Pucci came to an impasse- how could he get the baby’s attention, being as small as he is? There had to be a way… but this was certainly the most inopportune manner he could have found himself in whilst meeting this child.
Then the baby did something surprising- he reached down, his hand grasping at something unseen on the ground below him.
Pucci couldn’t believe his eyes. What he failed to notice before soon grew in size within the palm of the baby’s hand.
It was a rosary, probably dropped by Pucci himself when he leapt onto the blowfly. But more importantly, it was now a normal-sized rosary- and all it took was for this baby to touch it.
That was Pucci’s ticket to heaven. So everything it touches returns to its original size. This was certainly good news- he would have hated to undergo his evolution while still the size of an ant. With renewed motivation, Pucci guided the fly closer.
The baby was still preoccupied, however.
Preoccupied with Pucci’s rosary now in its grimy mouth.
…No! How DARE you!
Pucci gritted his teeth, fighting the urge to shout at the child. This gross display of blasphemy was one more strike against the ugly, green Thing. Now, he was not only growing increasingly impatient to set his plan in motion, he needed to make sure his rosary wouldn’t become this baby’s lunch. And lunch it certainly seemed to be with how attentively the baby was teething at it.
But as with most things in life, this too came to an end- perhaps the woody tang of the rosary was not to the baby’s taste as it promptly let it fall out of its grasp.
With a sharp crunch, it landed squarely on the blowfly’s head, ejecting the disc and Pucci along with it.
Eugh!
Pucci tumbled out of the way of his fallen rosary, then bolted upright as he came to a stop. He brushed at his robe and turned his gaze up at the baby with an angry tint to his eyes. He refrained from cursing this time, but the temptation was there- surely, his God wouldn’t mind him forsaking a blasphemous creature such as this one? No matter, it wasn’t like the baby could hear or understand him anyway.
The futility struck Pucci and despair fell upon him at once for the simple fact that… well, he was still very, very tiny and very, very powerless.
Fate could truly be so cruel at times.
Yet unpredictable in equal measure.
Pucci watched as the baby reached back down, hands mere moments from grabbing him, before he blinked and he was back to his normal size. At his feet crawled the green baby, fiddling with the hem of his robe and taste-testing it as it had done with the rosary.
Relief flooded him at once. Rescued from his size predicament, Pucci could almost cry. There was hope for his and Dio’s Heaven plan yet, and this baby was (somewhat unfortunately) an imperative component of it. If only he could control this ridiculous ability it had.
But before he could-
“STOP!!”
A voice echoed, and Pucci’s expression darkened.
“Don’t move any further, Jolyne! Get back from the light!”
Another voice answered, along with a third. They were agitated- Pucci could only guess as to why. It was them, clearly, and they were here to put a stop to his plan.
How unfortunate. If only one or the odd two of them were to face him, Pucci was sure he’d come out the winner. But three- that was truly and utterly disadvantageous for him. His only hope now was to return to lurking in the shadows and hope that fate would illuminate one more opportunity for him to strike his foes down. Like a caterpillar on the verge of its next stage in life, Pucci needed to return to his “cocoon-” to allow for his metamorphosis to proceed unperturbed until the time came to emerge in answer to heaven’s call.
He knew it would be soon- he had the baby now this time. The cogs of fate were turning, and his newfound destiny would show itself in due time.