Chapter Text
Kris thought they'd been prepared for this. They'd been working on this plan for so long. Kris would be the cage, the vessel, and assert control over the Angel - they'd manipulate the situation from right inside of it, and make sure everything worked out.
And then they could finally...
"C'mon, kiddo! Let's get rockin'!" Laughed a female voice that Kris could barely remember.
"Don't worry about me! I'll be back in no time!" A lying voice said, as a boy who was meant to go off to college went off to doom instead.
They didn't care what happened to the rest of the world. They didn't care if it made them a bad person, if their plan would hurt people, if people would die. They didn't even care if they would die.
And they probably would. After all, as much as the prophecy said about some things, the nature of the Angel and its cage was one of the few things that remained shadowed. It would give guidance, somehow, but whether it'd be cruel or kind, helpful or awful, none of them knew. That was another reason Kris had to do this. To stop them, before they could hurt people. Maybe their motivations were selfish and plan was dangerous, but they might be averting a worse catastrophe, right? What was the point in relying on something that couldn't even make certain of a happy ending?
And when they woke up, and their hands and feet were not their own, and their voice spoke words they didn't mean to, they were prepared.
But what they hadn't expected was—
That it would be kind.
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When they'd entered the dark world, legs puppeted by the force inside of them, they'd been prepared. They knew what these were — worlds made of pure fantasy, objects given life of their own.
They could feel its emotions, though. Wonder, excitement, determination. Wasn't that too childish, for something like a god? What, was it play-acting?
Given that it didn't respond to their contempt, the connection probably didn't go both ways. Either that, or it just didn't care about what its vessel had to say. What did it care for a measly Lightner, right?
That scorn lasted all the way until meeting the self-proclaimed "prince", Ralsei.
Kris hadn't bothered listening to its introduction and spiel, even though the Angel seemed interested enough. No matter how friendly the "prince" acted, all of this was a lie. Under the light of day, none of this would stand up. Getting attached to the Darkners or acting like they were real was just stupid, would just get in the way of both their plans and whatever the Angel was here to do—
They watched in disbelief as the Angel forewent fighting in favor of hugging the Ralsei creature. Using their body! Kris hated this, the feeling of violation as their arms wrapped around a stranger, the tingling in their skin at a sensation they weren't used to, all without their own wants mattering the slightest bit.
(They hated, too, how good the warmth felt, and how much it made them miss the days when that warmth was still in easy reach.)
But - why was the Angel acting like this? Surely they knew it didn't matter...?
It seemed it didn't. Kris' disbelief grew more and more as they wandered through the town, as their soul pulsed with warmth and affection even for these beings it didn't know, sparing each and every one. Even when it got hit, the pain spreading through Kris' body and making them almost grateful that they couldn't scream, the soul didn't give off any hatred or anger. Only distress, and then determination.
Kris didn't know how to feel about that, so they settled on irritation that this cosmic entity didn't know how to dodge better.
It explored the town, sparing and befriending more and more creatures, including picking back up with the girl who'd landed here with them, Susie. Kris had never spoken to her before, preferring to remain in silence, but the Angel didn't seem to feel the same. It enjoyed her company, even. It liked her.
Probably the same way a monster liked catching bugs, or something like that. It just found them interesting to watch. It didn't really care. It couldn't.
But it was harder for Kris to remind themselves not to care, either. When Ralsei got excited, they found themselves thinking, "cute..." for just a second before they caught themselves. It was all its that they were getting influenced into feeling pointless things. They weren't supposed to find this fun or enjoy it or care or anything, and neither should it.
But it did. And a little bit, so did they.
The group of four continued their adventure, fighting the king and eventually making their way to the dark fountain. It pulsed, pushing its way out of their body and then flashing bright, so bright Kris couldn't see for a moment.
And then the dark world was gone.
They pushed away their sudden feeling of loneliness. Get it together, Kris! It wasn't even them who'd been having that whole adventure, so what right did they have be sad about it now?
The Angel didn't seem to feel that way, though. Though more muted, it still felt...warm. Content.
Kris hated it so much they could burst.
They kept it together until the middle of the night. Until they were lying in bed, and its control of them began to waver. They waited, holding their breath, as they wriggled, hoping it wouldn't stop them.
...It didn't. It gave off a trace of curiosity, but it was faint, muted. Maybe it just thought Kris wasn't strong enough to do anything, not when every move felt like they were trying to push through solid concrete. Kris gritted their teeth, struggling harder, until finally they pushed hard enough to fall off the bed and land on the floor.
It hurt, but not quite the same as the dark world. But Kris could feel it hurting it too. It was shocked now, confused, distressed, and before it could turn those emotions into action, Kris reached into their chest and pulled.
Suddenly, the pain was doubled, tripled, but they kept yanking, more determined that any parasitic Angel could ever be. And finally, it emerged.
All its emotions suddenly fell away. Kris could finally breathe again, and they'd never felt so thankful for it. How had they not realized how wonderful it was to have control of their own body? Just being able to flex their fingers, move their hands, was exhilarating. And move them they did, throwing the soul straight into the cage they'd brought in for this purpose, ignoring its frantic rattling in the corner as they simply just breathed.
And then, deliberately slowly, they pulled out a knife. The sickening anger and bloodlust that they felt was just another sign of how different they were from the thing in the corner, shaking at the sight of their weapon. Because surely the Angel wouldn't feel so pleased seeing that fear, wouldn't have thought about exterminating something with such satisfaction.
But no, that was wrong. The Angel could pretend to be as moral as it wanted, putting up the facade of gentleness with Darkners and winning their love, but Kris knew the truth.
It was just as awful as Kris was. Because if it was really so nice, it wouldn't have stolen their body, their life, without even a trace of guilt.
They raised the knife up higher, moonlight glinting through the window onto their blade.