AN: Sorry this took so long, I had a lot of issues trying to get what I wanted across. still not sure how I feel about it, but I believe it's readable.
I will say I won't straight up just abandon this, I will do my best to update often, but I am also working on other stories, and I do have some sort of a life, But unless something happens, I will tell you all that I will be dropping this fanfic, IF and I mean IF I ever decide I want to stop this one.
My final note is that I'm new to writing in general as mentioned before, but it's doubly so for this one, Writing a character like Obsidian is odd, I, myself am a very dark person, and most of my fanfics have dark characters or undertones. this still does, don't get me wrong, but obsidian personality is something entirely new to me, and I will admit, I can't put personalities into words, like at all, even for my closest friends or myself, so I do apologize for any mistakes around him or inconsistencies.
Other than that enjoy and please review.
As the warp pad dissipated, the serene quiet of the house embraced them, the fading light of the dying sun casting long shadows that softened the otherwise tense air. The temple felt oddly still, a stark contrast to the whirlwind of chaos that had just unfolded. Garnet stood near the entrance, her posture calm and unreadable, her eyes piercing through the moment, no doubt partially aware of the events that had transpired, perhaps guided by her vision of the future. But for Obsidian, that vision meant little right now.
His body ached like always, his mind was a storm of fragmented thoughts, and all he could think about was the need to retreat, to disconnect for a while. Without acknowledging anyone, Garnet, Pearl, Amethyst, or even Steven, he turned and made his way to his room, each step heavy, deliberate, and without haste.
The door creaked open, revealing the dull and dark expanse of his quarters. Where once molten lava had illuminated the space with a fiery glow, it had now cooled into cold, lifeless stone. The walls were bare, the air heavy with the chill of stagnation. The faint sound of his footsteps echoed against the emptiness, a reminder of how lifeless the space had become.
Obsidian's breath came in ragged gasps, the weight of what happened pressing down on him with every passing second. His veins pulsed irregularly beneath his skin, a faint and uneven glow that barely pierced the shadows. The dim light cast long, shifting patterns across the stone, each flicker mirroring the rhythm of his labored breath.
He could feel the tension in his body, the instability of his form, as though at any moment, the cracks in his being could widen and send him into oblivion. The room, as still and silent as a tomb, seemed to press in around him. The cold stone beneath his feet was a stark contrast to the molten fire that once coursed freely through his form. Now, it was as if the room itself mirrored the state of his soul, fractured, subdued, and aching to find warmth once more.
He sat there, his knees trembling beneath him, feeling the coolness of the stone floor against his form. The heat that radiated from his body felt strangely foreign in the stillness of the room, an unsettling reminder of just how much power he held, and how little control he had left.
The silence was unbearable, yet it was the only thing that felt real. Everything else, the pain, the struggle, the voices, seemed distant now. He couldn't escape the memories of what had happened, what he had tried to protect, and what he had failed to stop. The weight of his existence pressed heavily on him, like an invisible force that crushed his spirit.
He didn't move for what felt like hours, lost in the endless cycle of his thoughts. The lava that ran through his room was no longer the bright, fiery orange it once had been it was now dull, a sickly grey The transformation in his room mirrored the transformation in his heart, burnt out, fading.
A sudden flash of light pierced through the suffocating darkness of Obsidian's room, breaking the stillness and drawing his gaze upward. For a brief, disorienting moment, the world around him seemed to shift, the walls of his room fading away and being replaced by vivid flashes of the past, memories, and echoes of his life before this broken state.
He stood on the battlefield, the ground beneath him cracked and scorched, surrounded by the sounds of destruction and chaos. The wind howled, whipping through the wreckage as the distant battle raged on. He could hear his own voice, steady and commanding, as he led the charge. His form glowed brightly as he surged forward, lava coursing through his veins like fire. His squad, his family. Fighting alongside him, each one a pillar of strength.
Rose, the soft, warm memory of her presence flitted across his mind. Her voice, so gentle, yet strong, guiding him through the toughest of battles. He remembered their conversations, her wisdom, and her calm demeanor, always pulling him back when he was ready to charge headlong into danger. He could almost feel the comforting warmth of her hands as they worked side by side and her smile whenever she talked about organic life, which made everything feel like it was worth it.
Garnet. He remembered meeting her for the first time, the confused scared fusion. They had fought together on many occasions since then, their bond growing with every battle they faced. Her steady presence kept him grounded, always knowing when to hold back and when to push forward. Obsidian remembered the way she would silently stand beside him, her ruby and sapphire eyes watching over him, assessing him, knowing exactly what he needed.
The flashes shifted again, pulling him to a different place, the forges of the Bismuths. The intense heat of the forges, the rhythmic clinking of hammers striking metal, and the smells of molten rock and metal surrounded him. He saw a Bismuth her gem spiraling inward towards her chest, tirelessly working at the forge, her hammer striking the anvil with precise, powerful swings. Obsidian could remember the way Bismuth's eyes gleamed with determination as she crafted the most exquisite weapons and armor, her passion for her work undeniable. They had shared so many hours in those forges, working on gear, discussing plans, and simply existing in the warmth of the flames. He could remember the trust she had placed in him, the steady hand that helped steady hers when needed.
He remembered Pearl, always standing by Rose's side, her elegance and poise never wavering, even in the face of danger. She was always calculating, always two steps ahead. He could see the determination in her eyes, she was ready to do anything for Rose.
Another shift and the battlefield appeared again, this time, it was the battle he was shattered. He could see it clearly now, the scene playing out before him like a vivid dream he couldn't escape. He was on the frontlines, He had fought valiantly, pushing himself to the absolute limits of his endurance. Every strike he landed was heavy, filled with purpose. His veins burned brighter as his willpower grew, but something felt different that day.
A deep sense of acceptance settled within him that day. The fight had dragged on far longer than expected, and with each strike, each movement, he felt the weight of his own exhaustion pulling him down. His core, the very essence that fueled him, was starting to falter, its fiery pulse weakening with every passing moment. But he couldn't stop. Not now. Not when his team still relied on him.
And then it happened. The blow, the one that ended everything. The pain. The searing, all-consuming pain as his body was ripped apart. The pain ripped from his very core. It was a battle he could not win. His gem was shattered, torn apart in an instant.
Obsidian could see it all now, the memory so vivid it almost felt like he was reliving it. He saw his final moments, the last thing he remembered before his form was torn asunder. And then, nothing.
Darkness.
It felt like an eternity. A vast emptiness where time didn't exist, where he was neither living nor dead. His core had burned out, leaving him as a broken shell, not even an echo of the gem he had once been. The nothingness had enveloped him, swallowing him whole.
But then, something shifted.
At first, it was a flicker, barely noticeable, like the faintest spark in the endless void. A whisper, a pull, calling him from the darkness. His essence, though diminished, still hung onto the thread of existence Slowly, his fractured awareness began to stir. He felt the weight of his form, his body's broken state, but a flicker of light brushed against his senses, like a distant memory. The warmth of the lava, the pulse of his core, faint, but there. A spark of life, a fragment of what he had been, stirred beneath the surface. He wasn't quite gone. Not yet. He had dragged himself back, piece by piece and here he was now.
As the memory of his death flooded his senses, the question still echoed in his mind, Had he given enough?
Had he not already given everything?
The room shifted again, and this time Obsidian recognized the scene almost immediately. It was a memory, one he had buried deep, though the echoes of it still lingered in the fractures of his core.
The once-muted volcanic hues sharpened into the vivid greens and blues of an untamed battlefield. Shards of broken earth and the scorched remains of trees littered the landscape, and the air was thick with the scent of rock and vegetation.
And there she was, Rose Quartz, her pink hues stark against the devastation. She stood before him, her gem glowing faintly with suppressed emotion, her expression a mix of fury and heartbreak.
"This wasn't the way, Obsidian!" she cried, her voice trembling with emotion. "You didn't have to shatter them!"
Obsidian stood tall, his veins pulsing with defiance. His form, usually steady, flickered slightly under the weight of her words, but he didn't falter. His hands were clenched at his sides, and faint traces of Lava dripped from his fingers, leaving smoking marks on the ground.
"They left me no choice," he said, his voice steady but low, rumbling like a distant volcano. "They shatter us Rose, all I did was return the favor."
Rose's hand went to her chest, gripping the fabric above her gem as if to steady herself. "There's always another way!" she insisted, stepping closer to him. "You could've contained them, disarmed them, anything but, this."
Obsidian's eyes met hers, unflinching, the heat of his core radiating outward as his frustration bubbled beneath the surface. "That Topaz would have been shattered had I aimed anywhere else," he rumbled, his voice deep and firm, reverberating like the low growl of an active volcano. "You've been around longer than I have, Rose. You know how durable we can be! There was no other way I could've guaranteed they would have stopped!"
Rose flinched slightly at his tone but didn't back down, her pink gem gleaming faintly as she stood her ground.
"I'm not going to let one of ours die when I can stop it," Obsidian continued, his fists clenched tightly at his sides, "Even if that means doing what you won't."
Rose's expression softened, the anger in her eyes giving way to a deep, aching sorrow. "But at what cost, Obsidian?" she asked, her voice quieter now, carrying the weight of her own struggles. "Shattering isn't just ending a life, it's silencing a voice forever. It's taking away any chance they might have had to change."
Obsidian took a deliberate step forward, towering over her but never looking down on her. His veins flared brighter for a moment as his emotions surged. "And what about us? What about the gems who stand between them and everything they want to destroy?" His voice lowered, but the intensity remained. "I won't gamble with lives, Rose. I won't hope for change while our people pay the price in shards."
The ground beneath them trembled slightly, the heat from Obsidian's core radiating outward in subtle waves. He took a step closer, his towering form casting a shadow over Rose.
"I won't apologize for protecting what matters," he said, his tone resolute. "Even if it means making choices you don't agree with."
Rose's expression wavered, her anger giving way to something more fragile, sorrow. "Protecting what matters," she repeated softly as if testing the weight of the words. She looked down, her shoulders sagging under an invisible weight.
"They were like us once," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Gems fighting for something they believed in, even if it was wrong."
Obsidian's veins flared briefly, a reflection of his frustration. The glow illuminated the cracks across his form, giving him an almost ethereal, otherworldly presence as he stood firm before Rose. "And they chose to keep fighting, knowing what it would cost," he said, his voice steady but laced with an edge of steel. "They made their choice. I made mine."
Rose's expression wavered, her rose-hued eyes clouded with a mixture of sadness and disappointment. She looked up at him again, searching his gaze as if trying to find some trace of doubt, some flicker of regret in his expression. But there was none. Obsidian's resolve was unshaken, his stance as immovable as the mountains he seemed forged from.
"I won't go out of my way to shatter if that's what you're worried about," he added, his voice softer now, though the determination in it remained. "But if it's one of ours or them, I'm choosing them every time."
Rose exhaled sharply, her shoulders sagging as she placed a hand over her gem, the source of her power and the weight of her decisions. "I don't want this war to take more from us than it already has, Obsidian," she murmured. "Shattering is a line we can't uncross, a choice that changes us forever."
Rose's hand dropped from her gem, her fingers curling into a fist at her side. "That's why we have to fight for something more," she insisted, her voice rising slightly with an undercurrent of desperation. "For a future where we don't have to make these choices."
Obsidian stood unwavering, his veins pulsing with a deep, steady glow, his form a striking contrast to her delicate, graceful presence. "I can't say I don't agree with you," he replied, his voice a low rumble, full of understanding and quiet conviction. "I wish for the same future you do, one where we don't have to sacrifice ourselves to this war." He paused, his gaze softening for a brief moment before he continued.
"But if you don't want to make these choices, then let me," Obsidian's words carried weight, a resolute strength. "You're the Rose that blooms after war, the one who brings life and hope after everything is torn apart. Let me be the thorns, the one who protects you, the one who takes the pain and the bloodshed so you don't have to."
His gaze remained steady on hers, his figure towering yet grounded, as if he were the unmovable force standing between Rose and the horrors of the war she wished to protect everyone from. "You've carried the burden of hope for far too long," he said, his voice softer, yet still filled with the same conviction. "Let me carry the weight of the bloodshed."
For a moment, the silence between them was heavy, as if the world itself was holding its breath. Rose's expression softened, her gaze meeting his with a mixture of admiration and sorrow. She knew what he was offering, knew the cost of it, and the sacrifice he was willing to make for her, and for the others.
Obsidian's gaze remained fixed on her, but the meaning of her next words seemed to slip through his fingers like sand. She spoke again, her voice a soft whisper in the weight of the silence, but he couldn't understand. The words didn't make sense, their meaning lost in the void between them. The strings that had once connected him to her, to everything, were fraying and distant.
"Rose," he said quietly, his voice strained as he searched her eyes. "I… don't understand."
Her lips moved again, but the words didn't reach him. The thudding of his nonexistent heart was not filled with panic, nor was it fear, but a strange, unsettling sense of familiarity. He had already known.
He had forgotten.
The realization came as a dull ache, no sharper than the memory of a passing dream. It wasn't a sudden shock, not a violent strike of loss. It was something he had already come to terms with, something he had known ever since he reformed, since the moment he had been shattered.
His thoughts drifted back to the fractured pieces of his existence, the parts of himself, the bonds, the memories, scattered like shards across time and space. They hadn't been erased entirely, but they had been made distant as if locked behind a thick, hazy fog. Some things still remained, flickers of clarity now and then, but most of it was gone.
He could remember his purpose, the fight, the camaraderie. But the deeper parts of him, the connections with the gems he once held close, were out of reach. Like they were someone else's life, someone else's memories.
He had been shattered. And in that act of destruction, his past had slipped away, lost to him. It was as if he had known that for a long time now, yet now it seemed so much more pronounced, like an empty space that could never be filled.
"I…" Obsidian's voice faltered, softer now, less uncertain. "I'm Sorry Rose."
Her face, once filled with hope, now seemed distant, unreadable. But Obsidian wasn't distraught. He wasn't overwhelmed by grief or frustration, nor was he desperate to claw at the memory of what had been lost. He had already accepted that it was gone.
His acceptance wasn't painful; it wasn't anguished. It simply was. There had been a time when he might have fought to hold on to those pieces, to cling to the parts of him that were slipping away. But now, there was no fight. No struggle. Only quiet sorrow, like an unspoken truth.
The realization of it, how much had been lost and how far he had fallen, didn't shake him to his core. It wasn't a loss he could undo.
It was just the way things were.
There was no anger, no bitterness, only a distant, quiet understanding. He had forgotten, and that was the price he paid for coming back, for defying death.
His room blurred once more.
The warmth of the sun filtered through the canopy above, casting dappled patterns on the forest floor. The air was fresh and thick with the scent of new growth and earth. The sound of chirping birds echoed through the trees, their songs sweet and clear in the stillness of the forest. It was a peaceful, serene moment, so different from the chaos he had so often known.
Obsidian stood surrounded by trees and greenery, a sense of calm settling over him. For a moment, he felt as if he were no longer bound by the weight of war, as if time itself had slowed to a gentle pace, allowing him to breathe. The breeze rustled the leaves, sending small ripples through the tall grass that swayed at his feet. Everything felt untouched, untainted by the war.
Celestine stood beside him, her presence a gentle contrast to the intensity of Obsidian. She was just a bit shorter than him, her figure delicate yet unyielding, like a shimmering star caught in a fleeting moment. Her gem, a soft, pale blue, glowed faintly at the center of her chest, its light radiating a soothing warmth that seemed to draw the eye in a calm embrace.
Her skin, smooth and radiant, held an ethereal quality, resembling the soft glow of the moon's reflection on calm water. A cascade of silver-white hair flowed down her back, shimmering as though dusted with stardust, the strands catching the light in a way that made them appear almost translucent. Her eyes were large, bright, and soft, the color of pale, clear skies after a storm, blue with an almost haunting depth, full of quiet wisdom and kindness.
She wore a flowing gown of pale lavender and silver that seemed to move with an almost magical fluidity as if the fabric was made of light itself. The gown draped gracefully around her, the edges adorned with intricate, delicate patterns that resembled stars and constellations. The faintest breeze tugged at her garments, but it didn't seem to disturb the serene aura she exuded.
Her expression was gentle, Serene as the surroundings, her hands clasped before her in a simple yet graceful gesture. There was wonder in her gaze as she looked around. Celestine's presence was one of calm acceptance, her essence like a beacon of peaceful energy even in the most chaotic of situations.
The serene moment was deceptive. Though the forest seemed peaceful, every step they took was deliberate, every sound measured. Celestine's calm appearance belied the tension crackling beneath the surface. They were deep in enemy territory, tracking an Emerald, a Homeworld general whose conquests had left devastation in her wake.
Obsidian's eyes flicked to Celestine. Her expression was serene, her soft gaze lingering on the beauty of the forest around them. But her hands betrayed her calm, twitching near the hilt of her weapon, ready to strike at a moment's notice.
"She's close," Celestine said softly, her voice barely louder than a whisper. The once-vibrant forest had grown eerily still. The air seemed to hold its breath, and even the faint glow of Obsidian's veins dimmed as he crouched low, scanning the trees for any movement.
They moved carefully through the underbrush, the tension between them unspoken but palpable. Celestine's instincts had always been razor-sharp, she could spot a trap before it was sprung. But even she wasn't infallible.
The attack came without warning.
Emerald emerged from the shadows, her commanding presence cutting through the forest's tranquil stillness. Her polished green armor gleamed with an unsettling brilliance, and the glaive in her hands, stained by the light of countless shattered rebels, glinted with lethal intent. Her gem, embedded in her chest, pulsed rhythmically as though beating with the promise of destruction.
She moved with calculated purpose, her gaze locked on Celestine. A single, precise swing of her glaive tore through the air, slashing a jagged line across Celestine's side. Pale blue light erupted from her gem as she stumbled backward, her radiant calm replaced by pain and fear.
"You Rebels are always too fragile," Emerald sneered, her voice sharp and cutting. She loomed over Celestine, who knelt on the ground, clutching her wound. The faint glow of Celestine's gem flickered dangerously as she tried to summon her strength.
Emerald raised her glaive, the sharp edge poised to strike the final blow. Obsidian, frozen for a heartbeat, saw it, there was no time for words, no room for hesitation. If he delayed for even a moment, Celestine would shatter before his eyes.
"Enough!" Obsidian roared his voice a volcanic eruption of fury. His veins flared with molten light as he lunged forward, his body moving faster than thought.
Emerald turned, her weapon already descending, a triumphant sneer forming on her lips. She was too close, the glaive already arcing toward Celestine's flickering gem. Obsidian's fist connected with Emerald's chest in a single, devastating motion.
The sound of shattering crystal echoed through the forest like a thunderclap. Emerald's gem fractured under the force, her form dissolving into a brilliant burst of green light that scattered into the air. The glaive fell to the ground with a metallic clang, harmlessly inches away from Celestine's trembling form.
Obsidian stood over the remains, his fist still raised, molten light seeping from the cracks in his skin as his breath came in ragged gasps. He looked to Celestine, slumped against the shattered tree, her silver-white hair tangled around her pale face. Her gem still glowed, faint but whole.
She was still kneeling, one hand pressed to her side, her pale blue light flickering weakly. Despite her pain, she managed a faint smile, her large, sky-colored eyes meeting his.
"You… always were dramatic," she whispered, her voice trembling but steady.
Obsidian knelt beside her, his glow softening as he tempered his heat. "And you're reckless," he said, his tone gruff but carrying a hint of concern. He carefully placed a hand on her shoulder, steadying her as she leaned into him. "But we're not done yet. Let's get you back."
Celestine nodded, her serene mask slipping back into place even as she winced. Together, they began the trek back, the once-idyllic forest now a scarred reminder of their battle. The shattered shards of Emerald's gem remained behind, glinting faintly in the sunlight, a testament to the cost of survival.
As the memory passed, Obsidian stood silently, his veins dimming to a faint, steady glow. The echo of Celestine's pained smile lingered in his mind, a haunting fragment of a past he couldn't fully grasp anymore. His fists unclenched at his sides, the tension in his stance ebbing away as his surroundings began to blur and shift.
The vibrant, sunlit forest dissolved, its colors bleeding into one another before fading entirely. The warmth of the memory, the sounds of birdsong, and the feel of the earth beneath his feet were replaced by the cold, hollow stillness of his room.
The dull walls reasserted themselves, their jagged edges and muted tones casting long shadows in the dim light. The quiet hum of his veins was the only sound, reverberating faintly in the oppressive silence. The air, heavy and stagnant, pressed against him like the weight of all he had lost.
Obsidian took a step forward, his feet echoing faintly against the stone floor. His veins pulsed dimly beneath the surface, their light flickering in rhythm with his thoughts. His gaze swept over the barren room, its cold emptiness a stark contrast to the vivid, fractured memories that had filled it moments ago. There was no anger, no frustration. Just the same quiet understanding that had settled over him since his return from the mountain.
This was his reality now: a hollow shell of what had once been, fragments of a life pieced together by memories slipping further away with every passing moment. Yet, one memory refused to fade entirely. Celestine's smile painted itself into his mind, serene and bittersweet, as though mocking the hollow resolve he clung to.
The irony wasn't lost on him, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, it stirred something deeper, a flicker of anger smoldering beneath his calm exterior. The same Celestine he had saved that day, the right hand who stood at his side through countless battles, the friend whose presence had once steadied him, was the very gem who had made him… this.
A broken echo of a warrior.
His eyes burned brighter, casting faint glimmers across the lifeless room as he wrestled with the bitter truth. Celestine, the gentle light amidst the chaos, had betrayed him. She had betrayed all those who had fought beside her, the ones who trusted her unwavering serenity as their anchor. And for what? What could have possibly driven her to cast everything aside, to cast him aside?
He would likely never know.
That thought twisted in his mind, an unanswered question gnawing at the edges of his already fractured memories. He clenched his fists, his veins flaring briefly before dimming once more. The anger wasn't a raging inferno, it was controlled, subdued, and simmering beneath the surface like the embers of a fire that refused to die.
Obsidian took another step forward, his boots scraping against the cold stone. The room loomed around him, indifferent and unchanging, as if reflecting the numb weight pressing against his chest. He could hate her, he realized. Hate her for what she had done, for what she had taken from him. But even now, his anger felt hollow, a shadow of what it might have been before everything was stripped away.
He let out a slow, measured breath, his eyes dimming as he straightened. There was no point in dwelling on it. What was done was done. The shards of his past, like shattered memories, could never be pieced back together. All that remained was the purpose that had pulled him from the void.
And yet, the faint echo of Celestine's smile lingered a haunting reminder of the trust he had once given her, and the price he had paid for it.
The room dissolved around Obsidian as his mind drifted into the recesses of memory, the fractured remains of his past playing out in vivid detail. Slowly, the void reshaped itself into a single, vast expanse. Ten landscapes emerged within the ever-shifting space, each bearing witness to a moment of violence, survival, and loss. They blended into one another like the pages of a storybook drenched in sorrow, their transitions seamless, yet starkly contrasting.
The first memory unfolded in a land of endless desolation, an Ashen Waste. The earth was blackened and broken, heat radiating from glowing veins of molten lava that crisscrossed the barren plain. Volcanic ash clouded the air, choking out the light of a distant, struggling sun. Here, Obsidian had faced a Jasper, her form elegant yet sharp, her gem nestled in the center of her forehead like an all-seeing eye. She was strong, poofed gems from both sides lay on the ground, and it was just the two of them, the jasper raised her food and brought it down on a ruby that was under his command, but Obsidans blade struck first. Cleaving through the gem's form as he ripped his blade upward.
The blackened landscape gave way to a Crystal Cavern, its walls shimmering with jagged quartz crystals that refracted the faintest light into dazzling rainbows. The ground crunched beneath his boots as he remembered the battle against a Carnelian, her fiery form a stark contrast to the cold beauty of the cavern. Her relentless strikes had pushed his closest ally, a frail Sapphire barely holding herself together, to the brink of shattering. Carnelian had roared with feral glee, her strength threatening to bring the cavern down on all of them. Obsidian's blade found its mark in the chaos, shattering her mid-attack. As the echoes of her demise faded, he had turned to find his ally safe, but her gaze had held no gratitude, only the weight of shared guilt.
The cavern's light dimmed, morphing into the dappled glow of A Sunlit Glade, a serene forest clearing bathed in golden rays. The scene was almost too peaceful to belong to such a violent memory. Here, he had encountered a Beryl, her emerald-green form blending with the surrounding foliage. She had infiltrated his group under the guise of a newborn, earning their trust before revealing her allegiance to Homeworld. Her betrayal had been swift and ruthless, striking down one of their own before anyone could react. Obsidian had moved instinctively, his weapon cutting through the illusion of peace that the glade had offered. As her fragments scattered across the sunlit ground, the birdsong returned, mocking the silence left behind.
The warmth of the glade gave way to the icy chill of the Frozen Expanse. Endless stretches of white and blue glistened under a pale, unforgiving sky. The wind howled, carrying shards of ice that cut like knives. A Peridot had stood there, her diminutive figure surrounded by an array of deadly devices she had deployed with mechanical precision. Traps littered the battlefield, their activation threatening to consume his entire team in explosions of ice and fire. Cornered and out of time, Obsidian had struck her down, his blade slicing through the cold air. The devices had deactivated as she shattered, leaving an eerie stillness in their wake.
The harsh cold transitioned to the crumbled remains of a Ruined gem City, its towering spires reduced to rubble. The echoes of past battles lingered in the air, the metallic tang of dust and decay heavy on his tongue. Among the debris, an Aquamarine had wielded her power to manipulate gravity, turning the ruins into a deathtrap. Entire sections of the city had collapsed under her command, endangering both friend and foe. When she finally fell, her shattering sent a shockwave through the ruins, scattering dust and memories alike.
The city's ruins melted into the stormy turmoil of the Coastline, waves crashing against jagged cliffs with unrelenting fury. The sky was dark and heavy, lightning illuminating the raging sea. A towering Topaz had stood against him, her massive frame and brute strength making her an unstoppable force. Two of his allies, already wounded and faltering, had clung to the edge of survival as she bore down on them. Obsidian had struck in desperation, his blade cutting through the storm and into her. As her shards fell, the storm seemed to mourn her, its fury undiminished.
The pounding waves receded into the suffocating stillness of the Blazing Desert. The dunes stretched endlessly, the heat distorting the horizon into a shimmering mirage. A Citrine had awaited him there, her cunning illusions turning the desert into a maze of false hope and despair. Each step had been a gamble, every mirage a potential ambush. Her laughter had echoed through the barren expanse until Obsidian's blade silenced it, cutting through the illusion and revealing her for what she truly was.
The oppressive heat gave way to the tangled depths of the Dense Jungle, which was alive under an Epidote's command, her emerald gem glowing faintly on her shoulder as she turned the terrain into a weapon. Roots ensnared, vines lashed, and branches fell under her control, slowing Obsidian's squad to a crawl. Her agility and cunning made her attacks relentless, wearing them down one by one. In a final clash within a narrow clearing, she lunged at Obsidian, her blade-like limbs aiming to finish him. He caught her mid-strike, forcing her into the same vines she had commanded. With no other choice, his blade struck her gem, shattering it and ending her control over the jungle. Silence fell, heavy and somber, as Obsidian turned away, knowing her defeat had saved his allies but left another weight on his soul.
The jungle gave way to the stark, lifeless expanse of the Obsidian Plateau, a flat, featureless land of black volcanic rock. The sky above was a void, its emptiness pressing down on him. A determined Ruby had stood there, her fiery passion undiminished despite the odds. She had fought with unrelenting fury, her mission clear: to annihilate his group. Obsidian had ended her charge with a single strike, her fiery essence extinguished in the vast emptiness.
The plateau softened into the tranquil beauty of the Moonlit Meadow, a field of wildflowers bathed in silver light. The gentle rustle of the wind carried the faint scent of blooming life. A Morganite had stood there, her charisma turning the meadow into a stage. Her words had sown doubt and division among his team, her presence a cancer to their unity. Her shattering had been a tragedy, her voice silenced forever in the stillness of the meadow.
Thirteen. That was how many gems Obsidian had shattered. Each memory was etched into his mind, the landscapes, the faces, the choices that had left him no other path. As heavy as the weight of those lives was, he felt an odd solace in the fact that he could still remember them. Each one was a testament to the choices he'd made, not out of cruelty, but necessity. At least their stories, their faces, and their final moments weren't lost to oblivion. In a way, carrying those memories was his way of honoring them, even as they haunted him.
Obsidian's molten eyes dimmed as he let the weight of it settle over him. He hadn't shattered them out of malice, nor had he ever taken pleasure in it. Each act had been a line drawn in the sand, a moment where his hand was forced to protect his own. Yet the faces of those he'd lost, both allies and enemies, lingered.
The room seemed quieter now, the faint hum of its dull energy fading into the background. Obsidian's fists clenched the coolness of the air around him a sharp contrast to the warmth of his molten veins. The lives he'd taken had cost him a part of himself, but they were also a reminder of what he still had to fight for.
He let out a heavy sigh, his gaze rising to the cracked walls of his barren room. Though the memories were burdensome, they anchored him to his purpose. As long as he could remember, he could ensure that those sacrifices weren't in vain. It was a fragile kind of peace, but it was enough, for now.
His mind drifted to Steven, then to the residents of Beach City, the strawberry field that was once a warzone, to the life that surrounded them,
His mind drifted to Steven, the boy who carried so much light despite the shadow of their shared past. Then to the residents of Beach City, who laughed, lived, and thrived in a peace hard-won. By a war they would never know, He thought of the strawberry field that had once been a warzone, its soil now still covered in remnants of war but not shared with vibrant life. Trees swayed in the breeze, wildflowers blossomed, and the air was filled with the soft hum of insects and the calls of birds.
It wasn't in vain. Not entirely.
The weight of his actions still pressed on him, but in those moments, he could see the threads connecting his sacrifices to the life that surrounded them. Every gem shattered, every memory etched into his being, had led to this, a world where others could grow, free from the chains of war.
Obsidian let out a slow breath, his molten veins cooling slightly. The ghosts of his past would always follow him, but they were part of what made the present possible. As long as the fields stayed green, the waves kissed the shores, and Steven's laughter echoed through the air, he could bear the burden, he could know It hadn't been for nothing.
His room erupted in light, the molten glow of his veins casting flickering shadows across the walls. The weight of his memories still lingered, but for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Obsidian felt… content. The air around him seemed less heavy, the silence less suffocating.
He had been given a second chance, a rare and precious thing. For now, he would embrace it, even if it came with the echoes of his past. He would carry the weight of the lives he had taken, the scars they left on his soul, but he would also carry the hope of what lay ahead.
Obsidian glanced at his surroundings, the barren room no longer feeling as lifeless. It wasn't much, but it was a start. A small flicker of warmth settled in his core, not the fire of battle but something quieter, something that reminded him of the life he had fought to protect.
He would deal with this new chance, however uncertain it might be. Step by step, memory by memory, he would rebuild, if not himself, then at least the purpose he had once held. The molten glow pulsed softly, steady, and unyielding. For now, that was enough.