AN: same as with all stories I post, writing can be difficult for me due to issues so don't judge too harshly, I do hope at least someone enjoys this and please review other than that enjoy.
Whole again?
The battlefield was a jagged expanse, a bleak wasteland shaped by the countless battles that had ravaged its surface. Once lush and vibrant, the land was now scarred by deep trenches and fissures that spiderwebbed outward, filled with pools of molten lava that bubbled and hissed, releasing plumes of steam into the stormy air. The sky above churned with dark, roiling clouds, and the storm was alive with energy. Lightning flashed sporadically, illuminating the landscape in blinding bursts of white and blue. Thunder followed, rolling across the barren expanse like the growl of some unseen beast.
Obsidian stood in the center of this chaos, a solitary figure against an overwhelming tide. His broad shoulders seemed to carry the weight of the storm itself, his form backlit by the molten veins glowing faintly within his armor. Each pulse of the flaming energy within him was a steady reminder of the immense power he held, though the cracks along his once-pristine armor betrayed how much that power had cost him. Around him, the ground groaned in protest, unable to bear the weight of his presence. Fissures snaked outward from his feet, glowing faintly as molten rock seeped through the cracks, painting the battlefield in hues of orange and red.
Behind him, the Gems under his command, those who had survived the ambush, were making their way toward the ancient ruins, retreating into the safety of the shadowed fortress. As they fled, Obsidian's voice rang out, his tone low but unwavering. "Tell her," he called to them. "Tell Rose of this ambush. Warn her of the forces that approach. She must know what awaits."
A quick glance toward the retreating figures confirmed that they understood. His words had weight, and they knew what had to be done.
As the last of his forces disappeared into the ruins, Obsidian stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as he fixed his gaze on the approaching Homeworld forces. His broadsword, glowing brighter as he raised it, sang through the air with each motion. He knew the odds were stacked against him, Homeworld's elite soldiers were relentless, and he had already lost count of the number of battles he'd fought in his service. But this was different. This wasn't about loyalty to the Empire. This was about his newfound purpose.
The first to engage were a pair of battle-hardened Jaspers. The larger of the two, her jagged yellow armor glinting in the flashes of lightning, was the first to charge. Her fists were heavy and brutal, each strike aimed at breaking him down. Obsidian met her with the same force, sidestepping her initial attack with a fluid motion. His body moved with terrifying precision, and as he swung his broadsword down, the molten edge collided with her shoulder, sending her sprawling back with a grunt of pain.
"You're still alive, defect?" she growled, a mix of disbelief and anger in her voice.
Before she could recover, the smaller Jasper, her spear raised high, launched herself toward him, aiming to strike him from the side. Obsidian twisted, narrowly dodging the spear's sharp point as it sank into the ground beside him. With a roar, he countered, his broadsword sweeping through the air in an arc that cleaved the spear in half. The smaller Jasper leapt back, her eyes narrowing with renewed fury.
"We're not done yet, Obsidian," the larger Jasper spat, preparing to charge again.
"I don't plan on running," Obsidian growled, his chest burning with the strain of holding back the pain in his shattered form. "But you will."
Before either of the Jaspers could make their next move, a sleek Peridot appeared at the rear of their formation. Her fingers crackled with energy as she aimed a device directly at him, intending to disrupt his form. Obsidian's red eyes flicked to her, seeing the glint of her tech before she could fire.
With a growl, Obsidian swung his broadsword with swift precision, knocking the device from Peridot's hands. It flew out of her grip and skittered across the cracked earth, but Peridot didn't hesitate. She rushed forward, her fists raised, determined to take him down.
Obsidian was faster.
His molten form surged forward, his massive frame moving with brutal efficiency. With a roar, he brought his broadsword down in one devastating arc. The molten edge of his blade caught Peridot's hand, the very hand that held her gem. The impact was so forceful that it sliced through her limb like paper.
Peridot gasped in shock as her hand was severed, her eyes widening in terror as her gem, held within the very palm of her severed hand, was cleaved in half. The crack that ran through her gem sent a shockwave through her body, her energy draining away rapidly as her form destabilized.
"No-o-o-oo!" Peridot screamed, her voice filled with fear and disbelief as the life drained from her.
Obsidian stood above her, his eyes unwavering, his sword still glowing from the intensity of the strike. Peridot collapsed to the ground, her broken gem lying in pieces alongside her shattered body. She gasped weakly, her form flickering as if she were fighting to hold on to her existence, but it was futile. With one final breath, she fell still, her energy extinguished by the brutal blow.
The ground rumbled beneath him as a new combatant emerged: a massive Agate, her body built for speed and agility. Her spear spun with deadly precision, striking fast and furious in a series of rapid, calculated thrusts aimed at his chest. Obsidian parried each blow, his molten sword clashing against the tip of her spear. But the strikes were wearing him down. His chest ached with each blow that connected, cracks forming beneath his armor.
"You can't hold off this many," the Agate taunted, grinning as she advanced. "Sooner or later, we'll get through."
With a savage roar, he swung his broadsword wide, the molten edge slicing through the air with force. The Agate stumbled back, narrowly avoiding the strike. But Obsidian's resolve was unshaken. He pressed on, swinging his sword again and again, forcing the Gems to retreat with every blow.
Another strike rang out as the massive Amethyst appeared, her whip-like chain snapping through the air, its jagged links glinting in the storm's dim light. With a snarl, she lashed it toward Obsidian, her eyes narrowed in fury. The chain struck like a serpent, aiming for his legs to take him down and leave him vulnerable.
But Obsidian was ready.
He pivoted on his heel, his red veins flaring brightly as he twisted his body to avoid the strike. The chain whipped past him, missing by mere inches. With a roar, Amethyst snapped the chain back and lunged forward, her fists raised high, eager to knock him down with sheer force.
Obsidian's sword was already in motion. With a smooth, controlled swing, he brought the broadsword down across her path, the edge catching the glint of lightning. Amethyst tried to block with her chain, but the strike was too powerful. The blade collided with the chain, sending a shockwave through the air that cracked the ground beneath them. The chain snapped, the links flying apart in a shower of sparks.
Obsidian's momentum carried him forward, his broadsword moving with unrelenting precision. The molten blade cleaved through Amethyst's form with a sickening poof, her body disintegrating in a shower of sparks and light as her gem shattered. It hit the ground with a sharp, hollow clatter, rolling several feet away.
Obsidian dashed forward, intent on crushing the fallen gem beneath his feet. But before he could land the final blow, a massive force collided with his side. The larger Jasper barreled into him, her spiked fist crashing into his torso with bone-shattering force. Obsidian was sent hurtling through the air, his large form skidding across the jagged ground. His broadsword flew from his grasp, the weapon's edge cutting through the air with a hiss before it came to a halt several feet away.
He struggled to push himself back onto his feet, veins flickering as the pain from the impact reverberated through his body. His armor groaned under the stress, cracks beginning to form in the once-unbreakable surface. The larger Jasper grinned, her eyes cold as she prepared for another strike.
"You're slowing down, Obsidian," she mocked. "You can't hold out forever."
With a growl, Obsidian forced himself to stand tall, his gaze burning with defiance. Despite the pain, despite the cracks in his form, he refused to back down. His purpose was clear, he had to buy time for his comrades to escape. He would not falter now.
But as he straightened, the second wave arrived. Agate, Peridot, and a battle-hardened Amethyst all surrounded him, their eyes gleaming with the promise of destruction. The onslaught came fast, each of them pressing the attack with ruthless precision. The Agate's staff lashed toward his head, narrowly missing but grazing his shoulder with a sharp pain that sent sparks flying. Peridot's disruptive device crackled with energy, sending jolts through his form and making his movements slow and sluggish.
Obsidian fought back with everything he had left, swinging his fists and blocking with the shattered remains of his armor, but the force of the combined assault was overwhelming. The Jaspers, too, were closing in, their fists raised and ready to strike. The world around him was a blur of motion as each strike brought him closer to the brink.
He staggered, his veins flickering dimly as his body struggled to keep pace. He was losing ground. His form felt heavy, and his movements grew sluggish with each passing moment. His breath came in ragged gasps, and the pain from the constant barrage of attacks was nearly unbearable. Yet he still refused to fall.
His gaze flicked to the ground where his broadsword lay, the red edges glowing faintly in the dim light of the storm. He needed it. His final stand wasn't finished.
With a concentrated effort, Obsidian reached out, calling on the very energy that surged through his being. The sword flickered and hummed to life, its edge springing back into his hand as he summoned it with raw force. The sword pulsed with power as it materialized, its glow brightening once more.
With renewed strength, Obsidian raised his broadsword high. The blade crackled with energy as he swung it at the approaching foes. His movements were slower now, his strength fading, but his resolve was unyielding. He cleaved through the first wave of attacks, the blade catching the Agate's staff in a burst of light. The weapon snapped in two, and the Agate staggered back in surprise.
Before he could catch his breath, the larger Jasper barreled toward him again, her massive form unstoppable. Her fist slammed into his side with devastating force, pushing him backward, and his feet skidded across the cracked earth. His form flickered dangerously, his veins glowing with an unstable, flickering pulse.
The final wave arrived quickly, and Obsidian knew he could not last much longer. His body was breaking apart under the strain. The second Jasper swung a heavy punch toward his chest, and before he could react, the blow connected with a brutal crack.
The world around him seemed to slow as the force of the punch sent a shockwave through his body. His broadsword slipped from his grasp, and his form wavered. He could feel his gemstone, the core of his existence, straining against the damage. He had fought valiantly, but the tide was turning against him.
The final blow came with a sickening crack. The second Jasper, seeing her chance, struck him directly in the chest, her fist colliding with his gemstone. His fiery glow flickered one last time before the crack split through his chest, and his gem shattered with an explosive sound.
Obsidian's body crumpled, his shattered form scattering across the battlefield. The veins that once pulsed with power now flickered weakly, the ground beneath him stained with the remnants of his final stand. His broadsword lay next to him, its fiery glow dimming to nothing.
In his final moments, Obsidian's form flickered, glitching for a brief instant, as if his will alone could defy the inevitable. His veins pulsed one last time, struggling against the forces that tore him apart, but it was futile. With a final, resounding crack, his body shattered. His broadsword fell from his grasp, his once-solid form disintegrating into a burst of light.
The jagged edges of his gem crumbled, breaking into pieces that scattered across the battlefield like fragments of a lost dream. His thoughts, though, remained clear in the chaos. He had fought with everything he had. He had bought time for his comrades, and now, all he hoped for was that they had escaped, his sacrifice would not be in vain.
With that final thought, Obsidian vanished in a flash, his essence dissipating as he poofed from existence. His shattered form lay in pieces across the cracked earth, the echoes of his last breath lost to the storm's furious howl. The battlefield, once filled with the chaos of battle, fell silent, Obsidian was gone, leaving only the memory of his sacrifice in the emptiness.
Agony was the word to describe what Obsidian was feeling. Every fragment of his being throbbed with excruciating pain as he struggled to reform. His body was not whole, his form scattered across the battlefield like shattered glass, each piece pulsing with the lingering torment of his destruction. The world around him was a blur of darkness and distortion, his senses warped and broken.
His thoughts, scattered and fragmented, felt as fractured as his very being. The sharp sting of his shattered gem echoed in his mind, each pulse sending waves of agony through his still-forming body. He could feel the cracks in his soul, the void where he had once been whole, and it was a constant reminder of how far he had fallen.
Yet, even in the midst of the pain, there was a flicker of something deeper, a memory of his final act, his sacrifice. He had bought them time, given them a chance to escape, and though his existence had been torn apart, that purpose still remained. It was that thought, that glimmer of hope, that kept him anchored amidst the chaos of his reforming body.
But the agony was overwhelming. His form was warping, glitching as if his very essence fought against the process, trying to hold onto his last moments of clarity. He could feel himself reforming, the pieces of him coming together, but each movement sent a new wave of pain, every shard of his broken gem protesting the rebirth. It was a slow, brutal process, and though his body was beginning to solidify, his mind was still in torment, the agony almost unbearable.
The pain continued to surge through Obsidian's form, but with each passing moment, he felt his pieces drawing together, slowly reassembling like a puzzle too complex for its own good. His shattered body groaned in protest, cracks of molten light pulsing around his chest where his gem had once been whole. He could feel his limbs reforming, his muscles knitting back together, but it was as if his essence was being torn and stitched together by a cruel hand. His mind, too, struggled to keep pace with the physicality of his rebirth, each fragment of his thoughts slipping between clarity and oblivion.
Around him, the battlefield had become a strange and eerie scene of rebirth. Wild plants had begun to grow through the remnants of weapons, armor, and shattered gems. Vines twisted and curled around discarded spears and broken swords, their green tendrils reaching out as if trying to reclaim the land from the violence that had once marred it. Tall grasses and wildflowers now stood in clusters, their bright colors standing in stark contrast to the dark memories of war that lingered in the soil beneath.
The sun hung overhead, warm and golden, casting long shadows across the landscape. Its rays filtered through the gaps in the trees and the creeping vines, bathing the scene in a light that was almost serene as if nature itself was attempting to hide the carnage and destruction that had taken place. The battlefield, once a place of bloodshed and chaos, now looked as though it were in the midst of a quiet, gentle recovery. The winds whispered through the newly sprouted leaves, soft and calm, carrying away the last traces of the storm that had once raged over the land.
But to Obsidian, the beauty of the scene was a cruel irony. Though the world around him was beginning to heal, the pain he felt as he struggled to reform only deepened. His body, still glitching and flickering as fragments of his gem worked to reform, reminded him of the price he had paid. Yet, despite the torment and the remnants of his shattered form, there was a quiet satisfaction in his heart. His purpose had been fulfilled the very fact that there were plants meant homeworld had failed, or at the very least hadn't won yet.
He took a step forward, his body now reformed or so he thought. The pain still gripped him, an unrelenting force that clouded his every thought. His movements were stiff, as if his body were not quite his own, still out of sync with his intentions. Each step was a reminder of the struggle, the agony that coursed through his fractured form. His gem pulsed faintly beneath his armor, a dull throb that echoed the constant ache that lingered, refusing to fade.
The battlefield around him seemed distant, as though he were detached from it, the once-clear memories of his sacrifice now slipping through his mind like sand through fingers. The faces of his comrades, the last words he'd spoken, all of it felt hazy, as if they were just out of reach, lingering on the edge of his consciousness. He could still feel the weight of his purpose, the reason he had fought, but the details were slipping away, obscured by the fog in his mind.
The plants surrounding him seemed to be watching, their tendrils swaying in the breeze as if they too were waiting for him to remember. To understand. But the world around him felt fragmented, each step forward adding to the disorientation as if he were walking through a dream, a dream where he was no longer sure of his place, his purpose, or even his name.
Despite the fog, despite the confusion that clouded his every thought, he knew one thing for certain: he had done what was necessary. The battlefield had changed and had become a graveyard of forgotten wars, but his actions, his sacrifice, had not been in vain. Whatever memories slipped away, whatever pain still lingered, he had fulfilled the one thing that mattered most: he had bought them time.
He took another step forward, his body shifting awkwardly, as if it were still healing, still trying to find its place. The sun above warmed the land, but the chill of uncertainty still gripped his heart. The battlefield, with its wild plants and broken weapons, seemed both foreign and familiar. He didn't know where to go, what to do next, but he knew he couldn't stand still. Not yet.
He wandered through the landscape, his every movement filled with an aching slowness, a constant reminder of the toll his body had endured. The pain, while ever-present, had become something he was learning to live with. Though his mind was fragmented and memories drifted like forgotten dreams, a single thought burned through the haze: his mission, his purpose, had to continue. But as he moved, the world around him seemed to echo his inner turmoil, fractured like the broken pieces of his soul.
Eventually, he came upon a stream, its waters running clear and peacefully over smooth stones, the sound a soft contrast to the violence of his past. The sun overhead was bright, casting a gentle warmth across the land. It was a serene scene, but it did little to soothe the burning ache in his chest. As he crouched beside the water, his body moving with a slow, deliberate heaviness, he finally looked down to meet his reflection.
What he saw in the stream startled him. His appearance, though still formidable, was marked by the wear of battle and destruction.
Obsidian's massive form, towering over 7 feet, was still imposing. His broad shoulders were covered in sleek, black obsidian armor, jagged but solid in places, though worn and cracked, as though time and force had taken their toll. The armor shimmered faintly, glinting in the sunlight, but the glow was muted as if the energy that once radiated from it had been dimmed. His chest was open, the once unblemished stone where his gemstone had been was now an incomplete wreckage.
His gem, the core of his being, was shattered. The heart of his power had fractured into countless pieces, scattered across his body like a shattered star. A large fragment, the one that had now occupied the center of his chest, now glowed weakly, its jagged edges reflecting a faint, dying light. This shard sat near his ribs, pulsing with the last flickers of energy it could muster, struggling to remain whole even as the cracks deepened. Other smaller pieces were embedded in his body, sharp shards lodged in the muscles of his arms, legs, and torso, while some fell to the ground at his feet, too far out of reach for him to collect.
The cracks in his armor mirrored the cracks in his gem. Along his right arm, a jagged streak of molten red traced the damage, where his once-pristine armor had split under force. His left arm, though similarly marked by deep fractures, still held strength. He could feel the familiar weight of his broadsword, its blade, glowing faintly despite the exhaustion of his body, resting at his side, though it, too, was slightly cracked, the light it emitted weaker than before.
Obsidian's skin, what could still be called skin, was marred by the sharp, angular lines of fractures, like a puzzle pieced together, but never quite whole. The sharpness of his form, once an imposing figure of near perfection, was now that of a shattered being, still retaining some of his original strength, but unrecognizable in his broken state. His eyes, once flaming pools of intense power, now flickered with a dim, faint light, reflecting the fractured soul within.
He could feel it, the way his body barely held together, the fragmented pieces of his gem embedded deeply into his form. Each fragment was a part of him, but none were whole. His sense of self was a blur, the agony of the shards pressing against his thoughts, distorting them into something unrecognizable. But he still existed. He was still standing. His purpose had not yet been fulfilled.
As he gazed into the water, the fragments of his once-perfect gem reflected back at him, broken, scattered, but not gone. His body, too, mirrored that same fractured state. But in the deepest part of his being, there was a spark, a faint glimmer of his true self that refused to be extinguished. The pieces of his gem lay scattered across his chest, glimmering weakly, but they still pulsed with life.
With a slow exhale, he stood tall, the pain never quite leaving, but his resolve hardening. He could not let the pain control him, not when there was still something to fight for. His form may have been scattered, but his purpose remained the same. He would carry it, piece by broken piece, until his last breath. And so, he continued forward, the faint glow of his fractured gem illuminating his path.
Obsidian wandered through the land, the passing of time stretching beyond his ability to comprehend. How much time had passed since the battle? Days? Weeks? Years? It no longer mattered. His fractured form moved, driven by something beyond his understanding, though the agony was a constant companion. His body, still a patchwork of reformed pieces, a shadow of its former self, felt foreign, disjointed, and incomplete. Yet his steps continued, slow but steady, carried forward by some unseen force, as if time itself had been forgotten, like a dream slipping away in the morning light.
The landscape around him had transformed. Gone were the scorched earth and twisted remnants of war he had fought in, replaced by an overwhelming flood of life. The current battlefield, once a place of violence and destruction, had been overtaken by vibrant growth. Thick strawberry vines sprawled across the ground, their bright red fruit glistening like precious gems amidst the dark soil. The air was thick with the sweet scent of the plants, mingling with the delicate fragrance of blossoms from the twisted flowers that had taken root in the cracks of the earth.
Above, the sky was an impossibly soft shade of blue, dotted with floating islands that hovered like distant memories. The islands drifted lazily, casting long shadows over the field, where delicate butterflies danced through the air, their wings shimmering in the sunlight. The sight was surreal, almost dreamlike as if the remnants of a violent past had given way to a peaceful, quiet present.
Obsidian's eyes scanned the surroundings, the battlefield now a place of strange beauty. He moved through it mechanically, his body still stiff from the reformation, his mind in turmoil, but the landscape felt... tranquil. The whispers that had plagued his senses since his reform were gone now, leaving behind a silence that was almost peaceful.
Yet, despite the beauty surrounding him, a deep emptiness gnawed at his core. His thoughts remained fragmented, his memories slipping away like the mist in the morning.
As he walked, he noticed the floating islands more clearly now. They hovered high above, obscured by clouds that rolled lazily across the sky. From below, they seemed to be unreachable, part of a world far removed from his. But something about them seemed familiar, as though they held answers he had forgotten, or perhaps had never known in the first place.
He moved closer to the islands, his heavy steps crunching through the strawberry plants as the butterflies flitted around him, undisturbed by his presence. He reached out to touch one of the vines, the soft texture of the leaves beneath his fingers a stark contrast to the jaggedness of his broken gem. His other hand still clutched at his chest, where the remnants of his fractured gem pulsed faintly, a constant reminder of the battle he had lost, of the shattered existence he now carried.
He broke out of his musings, a sudden beam of light streaking down nearby, piercing the tranquility of the plant-covered battlefield. Obsidian's heart, if he could still call it that, gave a sharp thrum as a fragmented memory surged through him. The sensation was familiar, like a forgotten dream that had clawed its way to the surface. A warp pad.
His vision sharpened, the edges of his fractured mind finally aligning just enough to place him back on the trail. He turned toward the direction of the light, his renewed purpose flooding through him despite the aching agony that still pulsed through his form. Without a second thought, his body surged forward. He had to reach it.
His broken body, pieced together but still marred with pain, moved with a grim determination. Each step was a reminder of how far he'd come from the shattering, but also of the journey still ahead. The plants, strawberry vines thick with fruit, whipped past him, their bright green tendrils tangling in his path, and the butterflies danced lazily through the air, almost taunting in their peacefulness. The floating islands above seemed to hover in a distant dream, yet all of it was real, this strange new world.
He was sure of one thing: it couldn't be Homeworld. There was too much life around, too much vibrancy. If they were here, their cold, relentless energy would have drained it all. Homeworld wouldn't leave such a place untouched, especially not after the ambush. This was something else. Someone else.
He pressed forward, each footfall harder to land with the cracks in his soul echoing, his body still not fully healed. The warping pain lingered in his form, but there was a sense of urgency now. He needed answers. He needed to know his sacrifice had been worth it.
It didn't take long for him to spot the newcomers. Their silhouettes stood out against the landscape, the beam of the warp pad still glowing faintly around them as they stepped out onto the ground. Obsidian's eyes, now sharper from his wandering, studied each one with a practiced gaze, trying to make sense of who had arrived.
The first figure he recognized immediately: a Pearl, tall and poised, her figure elegant despite the tattered remnants of her uniform. Her posture was rigid, but there was a familiarity about her, one he couldn't quite shake. He had seen her with Rose before, her ever-present role as one of Rose's generals, commanding, calculating, with an air of quiet loyalty. This is her. The Pearl who had stood by Rose's side through countless battles, giving everything to the cause.
Next was the unmistakable figure of Garnet. The fusion of Ruby and Sapphire, she was as solid and imposing as the very rock beneath Obsidian's feet. She stood tall and proud, scanning the battlefield with a calculating precision. He had heard of their fusion during one of Rose's previous campaigns. There was only one Garnet, and her presence on this world meant the rebellion had come to the right place.
Beside her stood a smaller Amethyst. This one was unfamiliar to him, though the energy surrounding her was unmistakable, a gem with the same raw, untamed spirit that all Amethysts shared. Judging by her appearance, she seemed like a defect, one that had emerged only recently. Her stance was more relaxed than the others, but Obsidian could tell she was ready for a fight. Her lack of discipline wasn't surprising; most Gems like her had little guidance when they were created.
And the final figure, Obsidian's brow furrowed as he focused on them. This one didn't look like a gem at all. They appeared... different, something beyond what he'd encountered in his past battles. Perhaps an Earth-born ally, or maybe something entirely new. The figure was neither gem nor familiar shape, a strange blend of form that neither felt hostile nor welcoming, just... other.
The moment his eyes locked on the group, he knew. The Crystal Gems.
Though he didn't yet know the specifics of their mission, their presence confirmed that they were part of the rebellion. The rebellion he had sacrificed everything for. His reason for standing against Homeworld, for choosing to protect others, was still valid.
The moment the realization struck him, Obsidian moved closer, his body still raw but functional enough to take a step forward. The landscape around him was peaceful, the plants flourishing in vibrant growth, butterflies drifting lazily through the air, but the weight of what he had to do next was evident. His shattered memory was slowly coming back, but for now, his purpose was clear. These were the ones he had fought for.
It didn't take long for Obsidian's movement to catch their attention. His massive, black form stood in stark contrast against the vibrant, colorful backdrop of plants and floating islands. His molten veins glowed faintly beneath the surface, a constant reminder of his power, but also of the shattered state he was still in.
Garnet stiffened, her usually composed demeanor momentarily cracking. Though her eyes were hidden beneath her glasses, the rigid posture of her body and the slight parting of her mouth betrayed her shock. Her hands instinctively clenched into fists, energy swirling around her but contained, she was processing the figure before her, unsure of how to react.
Pearl was the first to respond. She immediately drew her spear, the weapon held firmly in her hands. She positioned herself between Obsidian and the non-gem behind her, protective and cautious. With a swift motion, she pointed the spear at him, her stance defensive but ready for whatever might come. "Stay behind me," she commanded, her eyes narrowing as she studied the figure ahead of her, trying to make sense of what she was seeing.
Amethyst, not far behind, shifted, her whip snapping as she drew it from her gem and trailing behind her like a striking snake. Small spiked balls rested against the ground, just a flicker away from danger as Amethyst angled herself toward him. The tension in her body was palpable, and her stance prepared for a quick strike if needed. Her eyes never left him, her expression a mix of suspicion and wariness.
Even in his broken state, Obsidian knew that continuing at his previous pace would only provoke violence. With the weapons drawn before him and the tense stances of the Crystal Gems, they were ready to strike at a moment's notice. So, he slowed his approach, his steps deliberate and careful, his body shifting with the grace of someone who had once been a weapon of destruction, now a shadow of what he had been.
His hands rose slightly, palms facing forward in a gesture of peace. "G-a-arnet," he tried to speak, the name coming out broken and slurred, the syllables twisted as though his voice was still too weak to form words clearly. He stopped abruptly, his eyes widening in shock as the sound of his own voice reached his ears. He hadn't spoken since he had reformed, and hearing the fractured, uneven tone startled him. The words felt foreign as if they weren't entirely his own.
His gaze flickered to his hands, his fingers trembling slightly as he lowered them, and then to the Crystal Gems standing before him. His breath caught in his chest. He could see their wariness, their weapons still raised, but there was also a strange mixture of confusion in their eyes. They hadn't moved to attack yet, but he could feel the tension thickening the air.
"Ob-sssi-idiaaaan…" His name came out in a strained, fractured whisper, each syllable a struggle. The sound of his own name felt foreign in his mouth, the effort required to speak causing another painful pulse to radiate through his form. His chest tightened with each agonizing breath, and the sharp pain from his broken gem seemed to echo in his skull.
Obsidian's eyes squeezed shut for a moment as he fought to steady himself, the sensation of his body, his mind, being torn apart and reformed into a continuous, maddening ache. Speaking was like attempting to lift a weight far too heavy for him, and yet, there he was, trying to convey something to the group in front of him, even though his voice seemed so far removed from the clarity it once held.
"Stand down." The command rang out with clarity, even in his fractured state. Obsidian's senses locked onto the voice, his heart sinking as he recognized it. It was Garnet, the one he had hoped to find, the one who could give him the understanding he desperately needed.
He winced as a sharp, distant voice followed, an Amethyst's, likely starting to protest or speak out, but before any more words could leave her mouth, Garnet's voice returned stronger and harsher this time. "Stand down, Amethyst."
The air seemed to tighten with the force of her words. Garnet's tone, though commanding and firm, carried an edge that left no room for argument. The large fusion, still unmoving, scanned Obsidian, her glasses hiding whatever emotions flickered beneath the surface.
The remaining tension in the air was palpable. Obsidian, despite the searing pain and disorientation that clouded his thoughts, could feel the weight of Garnet's command hanging over the situation. He had no intention of fighting, but the confusion, the power in her words, and the uncertainty surrounding his reformed state made it harder for him to even find the words to continue.
Obsidian's body tensed as Garnet approached, his form still aching from the countless fractures that ran deep in his being. He could feel the weight of her gaze, even though the dark lenses of her glasses obscured her eyes. He could sense her shock, her disbelief, and it mirrored his own confusion. How was he here? How was he standing before her, when his gem had been shattered, torn apart, scattered across the battlefield?
Garnet stopped just a few feet away, her presence imposing, yet something in her stance was hesitant. She tilted her head slightly upward, her posture a silent inquiry. "How?" The question hung in the air, her voice thick with disbelief. "I saw your gem in pieces."
Obsidian didn't answer immediately. Instead, he lifted one hand, pointing to the scattered shards around him. The pieces of his former self lay strewn across his body, remnants of what he had once been. His gem, what was left of it, glowed faintly in its disjointed form, a fractured starburst, pulsing with pain each time he moved.
He couldn't speak. The effort was too much. Every word sent waves of agony through his form, and it was all he could do to keep standing. His hand lowered, the movement sluggish as if the very action drained him of what little strength he had left. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep this up, but the question still burned within him, gnawing at the edges of his thoughts.
Garnet remained still, her gaze locked onto the scattered fragments of Obsidian's being. The way he moved, slow and deliberate, each motion filled with pain, only deepened the disbelief in her chest. How could this be possible? His gem had been shattered. It had been torn apart, destroyed beyond recognition. And yet, here he was, standing before her, whole in some twisted, incomplete form.
Her mind raced, trying to comprehend the unnatural sight. The shards around him, faintly glowing, seemed to pulse with an almost organic energy, as if the very remnants of his existence were struggling to reform themselves. Despite the pain etched into his features, despite the way his body trembled, Obsidian remained standing. His sheer will to persist was something Garnet couldn't ignore.
She stepped closer, her brow furrowing beneath her glasses. Her voice was soft, still filled with awe. "This doesn't make sense. You should be... gone." Her words trailed off, and the faintest hint of sadness flickered in her posture. She could feel the weight of his suffering, the fragments of his being scattered across the ground like a puzzle with pieces too damaged to fit together.
Obsidian gave another shrug, before tapping his knuckles gently against the large shard where his gem had once been. The sound echoed through the silence, hollow yet firm as if he were trying to assert that he was tougher than anyone might have believed.
His expression was strained, but his gaze never wavered. It was as if he was trying to show them that despite his fragmented state, despite the pain that coursed through every fiber of his being, he wasn't going down without a fight. His broken form might have been a mockery of what he had once been, but it was still standing. Still defiant.
"Obsidian?" Pearl's voice was cautious, tinged with disbelief as she took a hesitant step closer, her spear still in hand but lowered slightly. Her gaze traced his form, taking in the jagged shards of his broken gem scattered across his body and the large, star-like fragment embedded in his chest. Her lips pressed into a thin line, struggling to reconcile the warrior she had once known with the fractured being before her. "What... what happened to you?"
Obsidian shifted slightly, his glowing eyes flickering as they landed on Pearl. He didn't answer. The effort to speak would bring too much pain, and he had nothing to say that could ease the visible tension in her stance or answer the unspoken questions that hung heavy in the air. Instead, he merely tilted his head, his expression a weary mixture of resignation and defiance.
Pearl's hand tightened around her spear, her knuckles whitening. "You were... gone," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "We saw-" She cut herself off, shaking her head as if to dispel the memories. "This doesn't make any sense."
The small Amethyst standing nearby huffed, her whip coiled tightly in her hand. "What doesn't make sense is who she is," she muttered, though her tone lacked conviction. Her gaze darted between Garnet and Pearl, unsure of what to make of the situation.
"It's him," Garnet said firmly, her voice steady even as her hands balled into fists. "Obsidian." She turned to Pearl and the others, her glasses reflecting the soft light filtering through the strawberry plants around them. "He's... alive. Or something close to it."
Pearl's eyes darted back to Obsidian, her confusion deepening. "But how? How could you survive, " She stopped again, her voice breaking. She didn't finish the question, perhaps because the answer seemed impossible, or because she wasn't sure she wanted to know.
The small figure who had been standing silently behind Pearl finally stepped forward, his wide, curious eyes fixed on Obsidian. He was unlike the Gems, his presence softer and more organic, yet his gaze carried an undeniable curiosity. "Who's Obsidian?" he asked, looking up at Pearl and Garnet. "And... what happened to him?"
Pearl hesitated, glancing between Garnet and the young boy. Her spear lowered further, her grip loosening as uncertainty flickered across her face. "Obsidian was, is, a warrior," she said carefully, her voice softening as if the weight of the memories was too much to bear. "He fought alongside Rose... a long time ago. He was one of the most powerful among us. But he..."
Her voice faltered, and she looked to Garnet for support.
Garnet's gaze didn't waver as she spoke, her tone steady but laced with sorrow. "He was shattered. During an ambush from homeworld, he gave everything to protect the gems who survived."
The organics brow furrowed, and he turned his gaze back to Obsidian. "Shattered?" he echoed, his voice quiet but full of confusion. "But... he's here. Isn't that supposed to... isn't that supposed to mean...?"
"Means it's over," Amethyst muttered from the side, crossing her arms. "Yeah, usually it does. Gems don't just come back after they're shattered. This is... this is weird."
The organics eyes widened slightly, taking in the jagged shards scattered across Obsidian's form and the faintly glowing fragment in his chest. "Is that why he looks like that?" he asked, his voice tinged with both curiosity and concern. "Because he... broke?"
Obsidian didn't move, his gaze remaining steady as he watched the exchange. There was a faint flicker in his eyes, a mixture of frustration and weariness. His silence wasn't by choice, but the effort to speak was a price he wasn't willing to pay, not yet. He shifted slightly, his form tense as though bracing for judgment.
His mind raced with an idea, the only one that made sense in his fractured state: to try and write it out. Obsidian's molten veins pulsed faintly as he scanned his surroundings, searching for a way to leave behind something tangible, words that could bridge the silence his broken voice couldn't overcome.
He stumbled toward a patch of softer ground, a small stretch of soil free from the plants that had consumed the area. Kneeling slowly, his massive frame trembled under the strain, but he pressed his finger into the dirt. The motion sent a faint tremor through his cracked form, but he persisted.
Each stroke was deliberate, his unsteady hand carving letters into the earth. The letters were uneven, some lines shaky from the effort it took to hold steady, but the message began to take shape. Dust and soil clung to his finger, the grains glowing faintly from the warmth emanating from his core.
Garnet stepped closer, her visor catching the faint light from the inscriptions. Her voice was low, cautious. "What are you trying to say, Obsidian?"
He didn't stop, didn't look up. Instead, he focused on the letters, his resolve unwavering despite the pain coursing through his shattered gem. One word, then another. The message became clearer as he carved it deeper into the soil. Around him, the faint rustle of leaves and the fluttering wings of butterflies filled the silence, as if the vibrant life in this strange place bore witness to his effort.
When he finished, Obsidian sat back slightly, his chest rising and falling. The words gleamed faintly in the earth, illuminated by the dim light of his fractured form:
"Friends?"
Garnet's visor reflected the faint glow of the inscription as her gaze softened. The single word, "Friends?", was scrawled unevenly into the soil, each letter a testament to Obsidian's struggle and determination. Around them, the rustling leaves stilled, and the atmosphere seemed to hold its breath, the fragile moment suspended in time.
Garnet crouched down, her movements deliberate and calm, as if not to startle him. Her hand hovered above the ground, tracing the letters in the air without touching them. The question lingered, its meaning as raw and fractured as the gem who had written it.
Her voice was quiet, almost tender. "Yes, Obsidian. Friends."
Behind her, Pearl and Amethyst exchanged uncertain glances, their postures tense but no longer defensive. The organic stepped forward cautiously, his curiosity overtaking his fear. "Wait... who is he?" its voice was soft, filled with wonder and confusion. "I thought gems were all girls?"
Pearl stepped beside Garnet, her eyes lingering on the writing before flickering to Obsidian's damaged form. Her voice wavered as she replied, " Steven, Obsidian was one of us... a long time ago. Homeworld viewed him as a defect because of the very reason we call him, him"
The now-named Steven's brow furrowed as he looked at the towering, fractured figure before him. "Then why does he look like that? Did... did something break him?"
Obsidian's eyes flicked toward Steven, a brief shimmer of something unspoken passing between them. His hand hovered near the writing, as though it could somehow express all that he couldn't say. His presence was imposing, but the faint glow of his veins and the word carved into the earth told a different story, one of pain, desperation, and longing.
Garnet remained still for a moment, her gaze fixed on Obsidian as Steven's question hung in the air. The faint light from the writing in the soil seemed to reflect the weight of Pearl's words, their truth carving into the moment as deeply as Obsidian's silent plea had carved into the earth.
Steven's brow furrowed as he looked between the towering, fractured figure and the Gems. "A defect?" he echoed, his tone a mixture of confusion and concern. "Just because he's... different?"
Pearl's gaze dropped to the ground as she clasped her hands together. Her voice was quiet but steady, as though recalling memories she hadn't spoken of in ages. "Homeworld has always valued conformity above all else. Any gem who didn't fit their mold... was deemed flawed. Obsidian was forged differently. his very existence was unique, and they feared that."
Amethyst crossed her arms, her expression softening. "So, what? They just threw him away because he wasn't what they expected. Sounds like typical Homeworld garbage to me."
Steven's eyes widened as he took another step closer to Obsidian, the glowing veins in the giant's shattered form catching his attention. "That's not fair," he said, his voice filled with the indignation of someone who couldn't yet comprehend such cruelty. "He's not a defect. He's just... him."
Obsidian's eyes flickered faintly as Steven spoke, the smallest shift in his posture signaling he had heard the words. His broad shoulders, weighed down by both physical damage and the burden of his past, seemed to ease, just slightly.
Garnet finally turned her head to address Steven, her voice calm but resolute. "It's not about fairness. It's about survival. Obsidian chose to defy them. He chose to fight for what he believed in, even when it cost him everything."
Steven's gaze softened as he looked back at Obsidian, his voice quieter now. "But he's still here. That means he didn't lose, right?"
Pearl glanced at Garnet, then back at Obsidian. Her voice carried a hesitant hope. "Perhaps... that's why he's here now. After everything, he still reached out to us."
Amethyst snorted lightly, though her tone lacked its usual sarcasm. "Well, if he's sticking around, he's got to be ready for how weird things get around here. And trust me, they get real weird." She flashed a lopsided grin, attempting to lighten the tense atmosphere. "Just don't go breaking the furniture, big guy. Steven's still working on fixing the last thing I 'accidentally' smashed."
Steven turned, eyebrows raised in mock offense. "Hey, I wasn't gonna bring that up!"
Obsidian tilted his head slightly, the faintest spark of confusion, or perhaps amusement, glinting in his eyes. His massive form shifted just enough to show he was listening, even if his silence remained.
Pearl sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Amethyst now is not the time for jokes. Obsidian has been through enough without you making light of the situation."
Amethyst rolled her eyes but shrugged, clearly unbothered. "I'm just saying! If he's sticking with us, he might as well get used to it. Friends or not, we're a lot to handle."
Garnet didn't say anything but tilted her head toward Obsidian, her presence steady and grounding. "We'll figure it out," she said calmly. "Together."
Steven smiled gently, stepping even closer to Obsidian. "If you want to be friends, we'll be your friends. Right, everyone?"
Obsidian's glowing veins flickered again, a faint but unmistakable light that seemed to pulse with something akin to gratitude. Garnet stood tall and nodded. "Yes, Steven. Friends."