The Batter. Master purifier. Bane of spectres. Slayer of Dedan, Guardian of Zone 1. A mighty being indeed, one whose very presence set all sane living beings on edge. No-one could quite put it into words, but everyone knew his fell purpose, in the backs of their minds somewhere. They knew what he sought to do.

And so, they feared him.

And what, you may ask, did this walking terror fear?

The answer: rollercoasters.

The pseudo-human Batter gripped the safety rails with nearly enough force to crush them as he glared across at his 'friend', who had somehow convinced the almost ethereal purifier to partake in this bizarre activity.

Though his friend, Zacharie, wore a mask, the Batter felt the humble merchant's grin.

The carriage began to slide forward, jittering slightly as it did. Each tremor, each vibration up the frankly ridiculously huge ramp caused the purifier's grip to tighten.

As it reached the peak, the Batter, for the first time, knew fear.

=x=

As the unlikely companions disembarked, the Batter attempted, not entirely successfully, to slow his breathing. Observant as ever, Zacharie remarked on this. "Oh, come now, amigo, surely it wasn't that bad?" He asked, teasing note soaring through his voice as he began to chuckle.

The Batter's eyes seemed to swell as he glared at the merchant, almost as though they were growing. Tiny black cracks formed around his eye sockets, and his usually dark eyes emptied themselves of all colour. He was closer in that moment to releasing his hold on his frail disguise than he had ever been. Even against Dedan he had felt neither this rage nor this terror, only a cold, grim determination. The poor merchant was dancing upon the very brink of disaster and ruin.

Gazing into those empty eyes, anyone with half an inch of self-preservation instinct would've fled to the next Zone by now.

Yet seeing his friend's rage Zacharie couldn't help but dissolve into overjoyed giggles.

And even though the Batter's rage was already nearing its breaking point at this point and Zacharie's mocking laughter was very infuriating, there was also something else it inspired.

Admiration.

Because out of all the dull, lifeless people in this cold world, all the Elsens with their clockwork lives, all those miserable souls that were born, lived, and died pointlessly, there was this one person, this one incredible being, who could truly find joy and delight in this miserable world.

If the Batter had a heart, it would've been warmed by such a being.

Even as he was – a soulless killing machine – something still stirred within him, seeing this bizarre outburst of delight, and he wondered at it.

As the Batter contemplated this, his posture loosened and his eyes shrank back down and darkened once more. His will and purpose were still resolute, yet as he processed these emotions, he realised one thing.

When all was made right, when his holy mission was fulfilled, when true purity spread throughout reality itself…

…There might be one person he would miss.