Virt gazed across the grassy terrain, his eyes pinpointed somewhere behind him, his body facing the direct opposite of where he was looking. There, the ethereal blessing of the sun's rays graced his body, amplified by his Zone, turning the fleeting beams into shining floodlights, pouring over him like the Gods had deemed him worthy.
Of course, he was worthy.
Directly opposite him stood an odd pair, a tan young boy with an energetic yellow hair, its spiky ends looking a lot like cacti leaves. Above him slouched a beautiful redhead, her flowing hair following the gentle chimes of the wind, as if imitating its power.
The boy kneeled, his injured kneecap glowing with a faint white light. His eyes widened, as if the healing was an old yet nostalgic feeling.
The woman, on the other hand, simply kept her shaking hands hovering above the small wound. After a short period, the blood of the wound receded, reentering its origins. The wound started closing, its red blemish slowly dissolving, before fading to his tan colouration.
Ecstatic, the boy shot up, chattering of something Virt was not close enough to hear, only recognising his speech via a vague reading of his lips.
A short exchange later, Sid, too, stood up, her line of sight slicing clean through Virt's own.
He noticed her shaking her head and letting off a small exhale.
Lingering a moment longer, Virt whirred to life, wandering with a goal but without directions.
He had a mission, a method, and a motivation.
He just didn't know where to start.
Sure, the bloodshed he unleashed upon the barracks marked his descent into hell.
But how would he journey further down?
In a sense, Virt was just like the Balance, abandoning his original goal, the path of Virtue.
And now, he was on the path of Sin.
A path of condemnation.
A path of brutality.
A path of salvation.
Not just for Sid, but for Virt, too.
And once he Ascended, he would Transcend.
Fulfilling his ultimate goal.
Becoming the Balance itself, restoring order back to the world.
So that no more lambs would be slaughtered.
Before he knew it, Virt had inadvertently walked into the outskirts of the Church. Here, vast forests were visible, or invisible, depending on where you viewed them. For Virt, his sight was obstructed by the dense foliage lined across the border of the Church, its dirt path slowly attenuating as it went deeper into the jungle.
It was here where the despicable Others hid, praying on travellers and the occasional mercenary group. They had not been discovered, nor had any higher ups in the Church shared their divine revelations with the public–or the Government–for that matter. And now, with Virt exiled, any word spoken from his mouth would just be taken as heresy or false information at best.
He wasn't simply exiled, he was banished, all forms of interaction with him forbidden even among his closest allies.
He could still hear the prayers, however.
This time, they were all for Sid.
"Saint Sid-"
"Saint-"
"Sa-"
The prayers assaulted his mind like raindrops against a pebble, slowly but surely breaking him.
He didn't even say goodbye to anyone.
He could have to Malen, in that closed off barracks.
Why didn't he?
Speaking of his excommunication, he was technically no longer allowed in the lands of the Church.
And that could only mean one thing.
He had to brave the wilderness on his own, the dangers of both the mundane and mystical thrown at him.
His small backpack suddenly weighed a ton, dropping Virt to his knees. No, it was not the backpack which was heavy, but his legs which grew weak.
Virt covered his mouth, as if preventing his vomit from spilling all over the dusty road, his free hand supporting his weight against the floor. A black object appeared in the corner of his eyes again, but disappeared when he turned to look at it. Once again, the mantra repeated in his head. As if serving to remind him of the treacherous path he was about to walk down.
"To undergo Ascension was to walk the Path of Sin, spilling the blood of your enemies–and if not, your own."
And just like that, Virt collapsed.
Coming to, he found himself thrown somewhere in the woods, the sun now a mellow orange colour, almost sinking below the treeline. Thankfully, it seems as though his items had been thrown out with him, like an unwanted pair of sandals in the temple's bin, left alone along with its useless master.
Standing up, Virt spun around, trying to identify where he had been so ungracefully left. It should not have been too far from the Church, after all. Who had the time to do that?
However, it had seemed as though he was wrong. In the distance, a lone, jagged mountain pierced the white veil of clouds, its grey slopes cascading into the ground. To its side, a smaller hill stood, this time featuring a majestic waterfall, its blue water rushing into a nearby river.
'What?? Who? Why? When? How?'
For added measure, he included the last W.
'Where?'
Even though he knew exactly where he was.
He had been left near the Earthen Mountains.
Almost a hundred kilometers away from the Church.
And even further from Virtue.