My body was forced into an inescapable circle of destruction and rebirth. My soul torn between two opposing energies that endlessly fought, as if their existence depended on it, and perhaps it was, as the parasitic curse Esther had put on me seemed to fade every time Hamon gained an upper hand. The same could be said for the Ripples that represented my life force, it's too strong, too dense to ever be truly snuffed out, but I had seen it dangerously close to vanishing amidst the curse's barrages.

Both seemed to fight for dominance, caring not for the sufferings they were causing me.

I didn't know how long had passed. Inside that haze of nothingness, hovering between Life and Death, I couldn't find it in myself to care for something as meaningless as time. There were times I simply wished to be released, times when I had cursed and raged for the injustice done to me. Then, the realization set in, one was coming for me, that I'd be stuck in this place for all eternity should I do nothing, thus I began to act. I couldn't control the curse, but I could control Hamon.

I knew if I wanted to come out of this alive, I'd needrthe two to reach an equilibrium.

So I bent Hamon to my will, compelling it to accept the curse. That ended in failure. Hamon was Life, it was bright, sunny and despised all things dark. It's just not in its nature to allow such a vile, disgusting perversion of itself to reside in the same vessel. The curse on the other hand, was simply trying to protect its continued existence, which meant keeping me alive and beating back the stubborn Ripples. Forcing Hamon to accept the curse simply wasn't feasible. I had to try something new.

This was when siphoning came into play. My first few attempts at siphoning the Dark out of Esther's curse ultimately ended in failure, but it proved my theory right. Hamon wouldn't attack the curse if it didn't have the Dark in it. I failed and failed, again and again. Each failure led to a new discovery about the curse. Whatever it was, it was meant to keep me alive, healthy and enhance my physical attributes with dark magic. It should have been a boon, a permanent source of Mana that I could siphon from as I so chose, but with my overwhelming well of Hamon present, it made my existence a living Hell instead.

More time passed, and my understandings of the curse grew. Then it dawned on me, I couldn't siphon it out of existence, because it was drawing energy from another source to supply itself. Pure energy that Hamon should have had no problem with. It's the nature of the spell that caused this situation, if I wanted to reach an equilibrium, I must modify it, somehow. That was easier said than done. Whatever this spell was, it was more advanced than anything Ayana had taught me. It was like looking at the recipe for a nuclear missile, completely incomprehensible.

I couldn't modify something so complex, but I still had one last card to play. One last gamble.

As I siphoned the Dark out, leaving the curse-spell pure, I began to disrupt it connection with the source using Hamon. It worked. For the first time in God knew how long, I could see a ray of hope! The spell was trying desperately to keep itself together, and with its connection cut off, it had no choice but to make Hamon its primary source of energy. Each time I did this, more and more of the spell began to change, adapting to the new energy introduced in its composition. The spell was dark, but with Hamon as its source, whatever Dark it built up simply dissipated into pure, harmless Mana.

At first, the purification process was extremely painful, as the spell had taken initiative to latch onto my soul, but as it changed, the pain lessened by the minute until the it was no more than a lingering, easily dismissible headache. I laughed at the discovery. I laughed at the glimpse of freedom that I could already feel within my grasp. I laughed at the thought of sweet vengeance. Regardless of their intentions, the Mikaelson fucking me over with their treacherous deed was an undeniable fact. One I'd make sure they pay dearly for.

It didn't take long for the change to occur. The spell finally settling comfortably in my soul, leeching off my Hamon, but also empowering me in ways even Hamon wasn't capable of. I felt… Amazing. Stronger. Powerful.

But, it didn't just end there. From within my soul, a humanoid form appeared. A cascade of golden hair much like mine hung loosely down his back, reaching his waist. Beautiful blue eyes that seemed to whiten in color the closer it got to the center with glowing, golden pupils. His skin was a light grey, seemingly made more pronounced by his skin-tight white shirt and waistcoat that split in two at the front with a single cloth going down in the middle. His chest had angular breast-plate that hugged closely to his well-defined muscles.

His legs and feet were covered by bronze, segmented leg guards that were vaguely futuristic. His arms were hidden beneath gauntlets with the same design that went slightly over his elbows.

He looked identical to me. Well, a buffer version of me with a height advantage, which was impressive since I knew I was at least 6'2 standing. His biceps and shoulders were large, each sizing up to nearly half his waistline. On his head was a floating, oversized wreath that looked as though it was made of hardened sunlight. His expression was impassive as he glanced at me. I was taken aback by his appearance, wondering if I should prepare for a fight, but something told me he wouldn't ever hurt me, couldn't even if he wanted.

Stand , a voice whispered, stopping for but a short moment before continuing. Heaven's Quintessence, Act I.

•

•

•

I stared into his eyes. "Is that your name? Heaven's Quintessence?"

He nodded. From here I could see the corner of his mouth tugging up as he heard his name. "And you're a Stand?" I continued, and again, he nodded. I didn't remember all the shows I had seen during my first life, but those words were enough to jolt my fading memories, memories I thought had long been washed away by the tides of time and new experiences. Memories of an… Anime(?) called Jojo's Bizarre Adventure. "By the Gods! I have a Stand?!"

My reaction was warranted, considering what these spiritual beings were capable of. They broke the laws of reality on a daily basis, and some of them were capable of feats that belonged in the realm if Gods. Dio's Stand for example, could Stop Time. Whether the effect only covered the Earth, or the entire Universe as a whole, both were unfeasible with our current understandings of science and the arcane. As Jordan Peterson put it, You can't twist the fabric of reality without it having snapped back. Sure, he didn't mean it in this context, but his words rang true all the same.

The only scenario in which I could see someone replicating Dio's Time Stop successfully was through separating a space from its original dimension, and that too had its own heap of problems. Even if they somehow worked out all the kinks, the ritual would cover at most a small, inconsequential plot of land, and the resulting backlash would disintegrate all the witches participating. There's also Made In Heaven, a Stand that could move fast enough to reset the entire universe. I shuddered at the horrifying thoughts, before choosing to focus on Quintessence. "So, what can you do?"

He rubbed his chin as though contemplating something, then threw a punch at the empty air. His fists were so fast that I could barely make out the blurred outline, I'd marvel at his prowess, but the magnificent sight of twisted, distorted space caught my eyes. "Is that–?"

Thank the Gods, I did not come any closer, because with a snap of his fingers, Quintessence made the space exploded as the Laws of reality re-asserted its dominance, but that's just the beginning, the space was stuck in a loop of constant explosion that just kept dragging on and on once the last had ended. Another snap and the time-loop simply faded without a trace.

It was an unblockable and relentless attack. One that caused space itself to vibrate from the shockwaves, disrupting the very molecular structure of anything in its path, while the space struck became a temporary singularity that greedily pulled in nearby objects, and with Quintessence's ability to keep it in a time-loop... Such an attack could rend flesh and break bones, ignoring all conventional durability, if timed right, it could effortlessly decimate any opposition. What's even scarier was his ability to detonate it as he pleased. Heaven's Quintessence , a fitting name for a Stand who can mess with the two most fundamental aspects of the universe.

I chuckled at Quintessence's proud expression, knowing instinctively that he could hear my thoughts to a certain extent.

Wait, Act I? The implication was staggering. I had no doubt that should the witches knew of Quintessence, they would attempt to get rid of me at any and all cost. Despite breaking the laws of physics everyday, most witches had weird relationship with Balance, and me? Well, I was the one being with the potential to bend their precious Balance over and molest it like I was a ugly bastard, and it a Japanese school girl in a cheap Hentai. I knew then and there that I must keep Quintessence's existence a secret until I'd had time to develop, lest I brought the attention of the Spirits before I was ready.

I could handle one coven, sure, but multiple covens alongside their dead ancestors? I was reckless and hot-headed, I'd admit, but I wasn't fucking suicidal.

Worst case scenario, I'll have to destroy the Other Side. As long as I could find the Anchor that Ayana's ancestor– Qetsiyah used to nail the Other Side to Earth, I should be able to, theoretically, siphon all the magic out of it, and enjoy the destruction that would follow. Of course, that option would be the last resort. The Other Side was too useful to destroy on a whim. It was as much a boon as it was a potential source of danger. "Fuck it, I'll cross that bridge when I get there." I sighed in annoyance, combing roughly through my hair.

One problem at a time, Einar. One at a time.

Though, speaking of problems, shouldn't I be up and about already? I looked around, greeted by the silent blackness that I had come to truly despise, blackness that stretched as far as eyes could see. I snapped back to Quintessence, expecting him to know the cause for our predicament. No luck there, unfortunately. My Stand was as clueless as I was.

"Oh for fu–?!"

Moments before I was about to curse aloud, a ghostly portal flashed to life. "– Sakeeeee?"

It was a hazy thing like polluted water, vaguely round in shape. Whoever designed this thing, they made sure it would look as suspicious as it could get. If that wasn't enough, the thousands of velvety whispers coming from it were somehow both hair-raising and, oddly enough, inviting. "You seeing what I'm seeing?" I gave Quintessence a weird look, he nodded, seemingly creeped out by the portal's abrupt appearance. "… So, I'm guessing we will have to enter that to escape?"

Quintessence hummed, not even bothering to hide his discomfort. Truth be told, I wasn't too keen on the idea either, but I had been stuck in this Purgatory for so long I couldn't even remember my own face clearly, whatever was on the other end of this portal, it couldn't possibly be much worse than this Hell… Hah, famous last words.

"Oh well, you only live once, right?" Together, my Stand and I threw ourselves into the unknown, hoping for the best, but expecting the worst.

•

•

•

We stumbled clumsily through the portal, falling on the field of grass and flowers we had found ourselves in. One distinct scent hit my nose, familiar and welcoming. The sweet smell of verbena– Tatia's favorite flower. I made to grab a handful, if only to remind myself of better times, a decision I'd quickly come to regret as the plant I had once loved charred my eager hand. I took a hasty retreat, clenching my teeth as I stared angrily at the reddened, sizzling skin of my palm as it struggled to regenerate. The curse isn't reacting well to verbena. " MOTHERFUCKIN– FUCK!!!"

I wasn't ashamed to admit I had a mental breakdown at the realization. It was maddening. The one thing I thought could perhaps soothe my spiraling sanity and it turned out to be poison! With an enraged roar, I flung my arms, and my magic, freshly siphoned from the curse-spell obeyed. Layer upon layer of dirt was telekinetically lifted, massive fields of flowers and plants were decimated and uprooted. I did not stop, not until the clearing had turned completely barren. And still, the all-consuming, righteous anger in my chest wasn't satiated. It craved more. It craved blood.

Preferably Mikael's, that honorless, backstabbing cunt.

Or that babies killing witch-bitch, Esther's.

Even the Mikaelson children's would suffice.

But I had none of those. My fingers– Claws dug into my flesh, stripping the skin off in one smooth motion. I had an anger problem long before my reincarnation, back when I lived in a society that was drowned in hypocrisy and evils. Evils that no one would address. I was well aware that I was part of that system, so I developed a coping mechanism, if only to keep my anger in check, one that involved lots and lots of self-inflicted harms. Ever since my death and subsequent rebirth, I had always had things, people to vent it on.

Now, now I had nothing to vent on. My sole option was to turn that anger inwards. So I did.

I punched, and clawed, and raved like a madman. Even when the bones of my hands had turned to mush, the skin peeling off like cheap paint, blood spilling over the barren ground. I didn't stop. I couldn't. The weight in my chest would suffocate me if I did. I wasn't stupid, I couldn't correctly tell the passage of time in that vast nothingness, but I knew years must have passed since that accursed day. Years I could have spent blissfully with my beautiful fiancée, raising our children in a house somewhere. Years I could never take back. " NO! I– FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!"

My face felt wet. I wasn't sure if it was blood from the claw marks, or tears I had tried so desperately to hold back. Fingers dug into my scalp, I kneeled and sobbed. I could hear the soft approaching footsteps, but I was too lost in my own misery to care.

.

..

…

"You used to love verbena." Her voice sounded, snapping me out of my fit. I turned so fast that I could hear the cracks of my spine. That gentleness, those concerned eyes, she looked at me. "T- Tatia?" I blitzed towards her, pulling her smaller form in my chest as quickly as I could without hurting her. She hadn't aged a day, still as beautiful as the day we met on that cliff. "I- Ju- How? How is this possible?"

"It's a long story, my love. Nine-hundred years long." Her slender fingers brushed my hair, gazing the blood on my face. "Einar, what have you done to yourself?"

I looked away, ashamed to admit to self-harms. I had never shown her this side of me, and for good reasons. This was the weakling whose anger and emotions always got the better of him, the weakling who longed for changes and improvements, both for himself and the world, but never actually got to trying. The man who was broken by the cruelty, apathy and falsehood of the world he had lived in. He was pathetic. Einar wasn't– I wasn't, or so I thought. "Tis but a scratch."

Tatia didn't seem amused with my attempt at a distraction, glaring pointedly at me. This was it. This was what made me love her. Her innocence and playfulness might have drawn me in, but it's this fire, this passion that made me fall hopelessly in love. I took her clenched hands, pushed her on her back, cushioning our fall with magic as I pinned her down. I didn't let her talk, my lips found hers like I had many times before, but filled with a heat and hunger I hadn't even noticed myself.

"E- EinaaaAa?!" I traced tender kisses and bites down her neck, watching in sadistic glee as her protests were quieted and her moans ever louder. My hands found their way into her dress, sneaking past the drenched panties that I soon pulled off, throwing it carelessly to the side. The moment I penetrated her with my fingers, I was instantly fascinated by how her body arch and squirm, seemingly overwhelmed by pleasures. With a slight of hand, invisible restraint tied her to the ground, leaving her even more defenseless to my attacks.

"We can talk later. Now? Now we have to make up for the time we lost."

I licked my lips, tearing up her dark green dress like a crazed barbarian. The beautiful sight left me speechless, staring blankly at her naked flesh. Tatia was the most beautiful girl I had seen as of date, and the deep blush adorning her face only made her that much more tantalizingly irresistible. "If you want me to stop." I pressed kisses on her thigh. "Tell me now."

Her whimpers were all the answer I needed.

Tatia wasn't a screamer, but she was very expressive during sex. Every time we did it in the past, she would ask me to put up barrier, illusion or the sort so she wasn't heard or seen. If she wasn't so lost in pleasure already, she would have probably asked me to do the same this time, but honestly, I couldn't be bothered to. This was me staking my claim, if they saw, they saw. I wanted them to know that this glorious woman, all of her belonged to me, and me alone.

I dived in, gluttonous for the clear stream leaking down her entrance, then thought otherwise. Tatia, surprisingly enough, was a massive sub. Letting her climax like this wouldn't maximize her pleasure. Instead, I licked, kissed, even bit near her entrance, allowing the pleasure to build up and up, until she could only gaze at me pitifully, stammering. "E- Einar, please…"

I smirked. "Please what, sweetheart?"

"P- Please let me cu– OOooh!" My tongue dug into her, rolling her clit skillfully with each lick. It didn't take long for her to climax, shuddering as her private flooded my mouth. I let go of her legs, a toothy grin plastered on my mouth. I flicked her clit, fiddling with my belt while another smaller orgasm consumed my tied up fiancée. I went on all four, my face inches away from hers as we kissed, trading saliva and other bodily fluids. After some short seconds, my hardened member was freed, I pushed it against her entrance, rubbing roughly against it, using her juice as lube.

"Now, for the main course."

I'm gonna be honest, I didn't plan for the sex scene. It just happened. Hell, I didn't plan for the reunion either, but it just seemed like a logical step to take. After suffering endless torture for 900 hundred years, I thought Einar deserved a break, you know? I actually wanted Katherine to be the replacement for Tatia, but oh well... Maybe it can still work? Tatia is still dead after all. Maybe while looking for way to resurrect her, Einar fell for Katherine too? Is it too greedy to want both Doppelgangers?

Stand: Heaven's Quintessence, Act I

• Power: C

• Speed: B

• Range: C

• Precision: D

• Persistence: B

• Development Potential: A

Abilities:

• Timed Spatial Explosion

• Quantum Loop