Author's Note: Just a short one. Or more like a draft. Need to get the facts checked. Like Crawler's list of immunities for one. Hopefully, I managed to get Jack's character somewhat right. Should be home in a few hours, so maybe I'll finally have the time to actually write. Eh, we'll see; one can only hope~

Disclaimer: Honkai Impact 3rd belongs to miHoYo; Honkai: Star Rail belongs to miHoYo; Worm belongs to Wildbow.

Proofreading and Editing by –

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Origin of The End

Jack (I)

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He had never been an ordinary man. Wasn't some weakling too scared to get his hands dirty. No, he relished in what he did, the artistry of it all — the way a well-placed cut could change the course of a life... or end it. To Jack, murder... it wasn't just an act; it was a statement, a way to shape the world in an image that he so desired. The blood, the screams, the sheer chaos — all part of a masterpiece.

Of course, to truly appreciate the nuances of it all, you had to have a certain perspective... a certain flair. And rightly so; what others saw as monstrosity, he saw as beauty. Not that they would ever understand. In the end, the world had, and will always be, filled with weak-willed sheeps, all blind to the majesty of the truth. His followers? Monsters. Merely tools in his grand design.

Really, you don't get to be the leader of the Nine by being anything less than exceptional.

So when a damn meatball weighing tons of kilograms came crashing through one of the walls in their little backyard, Jack didn't flinch... or scream or even blink for that matter. He laughed.

"Well, that's one way to make an entrance," Jack drawled, watching as Crawler slowly got back on his feet, shaking off the rubble. The beast smiled, his grotesque form twisting and snapping as he charged back into the warehouse, scattering debris and shattered bricks in his wake. "Watch it, Crawler. You're going to bring everything do-"

*BOOM*

And the humongous body came barreling through the wreckage... again.

Arcs of lightning — red and purple intertwined — traveled from the warehouse and to the twisted limbs of the beast. They sizzled and snapped, dancing like electric serpents before lashing against the monster's mutated skin, the energy surging across his impervious hide and... and blasting chunks out of his flesh?

.

.

.

... oookay... that... that shouldn't have happened...

"That's... interesting, isn't it?"

"It is~! I thought he was already immune to that~!"

And she wasn't wrong to say as such; while Crawler might not be impervious to all manners of attack, that sudden, unexpected reaction was still nothing short of bizarre. He had taken on fire, acid, bullets — even space warping bullshit — and shrugged them off like they were nothing. Lightning? He had conquered it long before he joined the Nine. Well... alright, maybe not this kind of lightning. After all, Jack never did see lightning in those twisted, unnatural colors. Still...

'... at least that'll keep him happy for a while,' glancing to the side, he then looked at the diminutive figure standing next to him. "You ready for a fight, little Bonesaw?"

"Always~!" The girl chirped, sweet as poisoned honey. She hummed a nursery rhyme under her breath, little spiders scuttling around her arm as she pulled at her surgical tool with a rather delightful squelch.

"Good to hear. And you too, Crawler; try not to make too much of a mess, eh?" His words elicited what passed as a grunt from the beast, not that Jack particularly cared.

Shifting his gaze back to the warehouse, he saw a woman walking out, orbs of purple narrowing ever so slightly as they scanned at the spectacle behind him. They took in the destruction, the chaos, and the carnage in all their crimson beauty before settling onto him. Jack, in turn, smirked, fingers twitching towards his knife as he readied himself for the inevitable dance, though... even he cannot deny the sliver of apprehension that started to creep at his back.

'... not just another sheep waiting to be slaughtered, then.'

Still, he knew that they couldn't waste too much time here; the explosion earlier wasn't exactly subtle, after all. Already he could see the bone-white of Mannequin's limbs peeking from around the corner, his segmented, skeletal frame almost blending into the background... although, if Jack's eyes were to be believed, then the doll did freeze if only for a second. Why the man hesitated, he did not know, but so long as he did what Jack needed him to do? Then he honestly couldn't care less. And with the rest of his monsters coming to assist... well...

"... you are... Jack Slash?" The woman finally deigned to speak, though the words were spoken more as a statement rather than a question.

"Who's asking?"

"Acheron." Came the reply, voice as cold as her gaze. "In the interest of avoiding unnecessary bloodshed, I would suggest that you surrender yourself."

"... right," Jack's lips curled into a grin, a chuckle bubbling up from his throat. "Lady, if you think that you can just come here and make demands, you've got another thing coming." Flourishing a blade, he let it twirl around his fingers — cold edge catching the light of the afternoon sun. "You see, the thing about the Nine is, when you-"

*Ba-dump*

He cut himself short, eyes widening as a strange sensation washed over him. Barely a second passed before he felt his body jerk forward, muscles spasming involuntarily; it was an unsettling sensation... invasive, yet brief. So fleeting was the intrusion that he had no problem forcing himself to whirl around, his free hand reaching for the spot where the phantom had grazed him.

'... did... did someone just?'

A quick look at the budding Biotinker confirmed his suspicion. Someone, or something, did touch him. After all, her reaction mirrored that of his own, if only to a much lesser degree. Still, that left him with a disturbing sense of uncertainty... of vulnerability. And he absolutely hated that shit.

No, he was not angry; he was downright apoplectic.

Jack narrowed his eyes, scanning the area with a renewed focus, every sense on high alert... and yet, no matter thoroughly he searched, no matter how carefully he listened, he found... nothing...

... as if it was nothing more than a trick on his mind.

"I shall reiterate," the voice that broke through the tension was calm... too calm, in fact — almost unnerving in a way. He turned his attention back to the intruder, only to notice the dangerous gleam in her eyes that he was certain had not been present when their eyes had first met. "In the interest of avoiding unnecessary bloodshed, I would suggest that you all surrender yourself."

"Now, you listen here," he snarled, the edges of his lips turning sharp and feral, eyes momentarily flitting to the roof where two people were standing. Shatterbird and Burnscar. "What makes you think that we'll just roll over and do—"

And that is as far as he goes...

*CRASH*

His vision turned black as a vice-like grip clamped onto his head. A hand, Jack realized; the cracking sound and the pain blooming on the back of his head were the only indications of the injury he received.

He began to thrash wildly, flailing — screaming — as the woman proceeded to lift him off the ground. Two seconds, and his pain receptors shut off, yet that did not mean that he couldn't feel the pressure mounting against his skull.

Her digits continued to dig deeper, his bones creaking and his flesh straining; desperate, he stabbed at the offending arm with his knife, and yet, even then, she just. wouldn't. let go!

"You misunderstand..."

Several other voices kept screaming his name — echoes of panic and rage — but he ignored them, focusing instead on the gaps between the woman's fingers. And through those gaps, an eye stained with crimson.

"... I was not asking."