Blasted rocks and trees flew past in a blur, miles and miles of land passing by in a flight that was not so much panicked as it was enraged. South, South, and further South, past a painful rip in the earth where the jealous realm poured out and polluted all it touched, past ruins, past all signs of civilization and into the empty wastes beyond. The spirit that was once part of Shinsei knew not why it continued so, for it only knew two things: the intense hatred for those who had thwarted it, and the fierce desire to end the Thunders, to end the need for them.
Damn those blasted heroes, damn them all-
No...no, focus. It needed to focus. It was that desire which had given it form, allowed it to split from the weak fool that birthed it, and permitted it to interact with the world. Hatred would not serve it, it needed only the desire for its goal. Concentrate, focus, deepen the desire...
The spirit spun in place, having heard the voice as if it were less than a breath away, but it was alone. It couldn't have heard anything in this empty place, but it was not prone to imagination, so what-
So small, yet so great. Unique. Powerful, but so very weak...
Fear was not something a creature like the ikiryo was naturally capable of feeling, but here in this moment, hearing this voice, feeling a gaze penetrate into it without a source, it learned to fear, and held to it.
Yes, a natural response, but not why you interest me. That other one. Go back to that other one.
It paused, confused for a moment. Then it focused again, brought back the desire-
YES. That is it. So intense, so singular. You are a great force, but only a fraction of what you could be. I can use you, make you so much more...
More? More powerful? More of what it already was?
The ikiryo would have shuddered, if it could do such a thing. Yes, it wanted more, needed more. More-
The spirit convulsed as if struck, blinded by the sheer power in that word.
Yes, little great one. I shall Name you...Desire.
A scream split the air, filled with pain and power and longing, though few close enough to hear the unnatural sound had the fortitude to survive the experience. It carried on for untold hours, the form of the creature from which the unholy sound was issued twisting, expanding, shrinking, changing moment by moment, before finally settling down once more.
What now remained was similar to the spirit that preceded it, but irrevocably changed. In a vague sense it still resembled the hooded figure that it chose to imitate, but where one there were hands, feet, a face... now there was nothing, nothing but the robe itself and the emptiness contained within.
Desire. Not just the desire to end the Thunders now, but all desire. Every desire.
The spirit rippled in pleasure.
This would do.
This... was perfect.
With a thought of gratitude for whatever force had just altered it, the spirit now known as Desire let out a shriek, and began to speed across the land once more.
This time, it headed North.
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