Summary: Voltra didn't like the looks they were giving him. It had been a mixture of pain, grief and pity. For some reason, he disliked the way it made him feel. Halilintar? What a strange name.
A/N: Halilintar is both mine and Monsta's punching bag
It was bound to happen someday. Out of the seven, Halilintar knew this day would come sooner or later – it hadn't been a matter of if, but when.
He of all people should know that peace doesn't last. Like a beating heart pumping blood through its veins, conflict is the only motivator that drives people to do the unthinkable. It results in choices that one wouldn't have made otherwise, to tap into unconventional sources to draw out equally uncanny potentials to one's advantage.
Lightning wasn't the slightest bit like the other elements. It wasn't like earth, who could nurture life and shield them from harm; it wasn't like wind, who was spontaneous and unpredictable, always herding them into a new direction even in their darkest days.
Instead, lightning was a source of energy that coursed through electronics and manmade devices. Just as how thunderstorms ran rampant in the sky, countless beings have learned to harness the power of electricity to their advantage. They played god and tamed a ferocious beast to bend to their own will, and that was all Halilintar is.
A means to an end, a mere tool to use at their disposal. A few years of free will and agency beyond his element didn't change that. A few adventures and horrible campfire stories in unmarked forests won't alter his purpose. No matter how many pep talks Gempa gave or how many pranks Blaze would pull in their sleep, it was all smoke and mirrors.
A beautiful lie, but that's it. A lie.
"Hali, please. You don't have to be Voltra. It's been millennia."
"Gempa, get away from him. That's not Halilintar! Not anymore."
He doesn't get it. Halilintar has to be Voltra. That's why he existed in the first place – to serve the one who rightfully owned him. That's his entire purpose, the reason that gave him life to begin with.
Voltra wasn't like the others. Not like Krystal, not like Beliung or anyone else. They had the capacity to create and bring forth life. All Voltra could do was destroy and tear down what was already there. He wasn't made with the intention to nurture in mind. He was made for destruction and to strike fear into those who crossed his path.
Here, in his master's hold, he could finally fulfill his purpose and destiny. All it had taken was one step, one loose cry for help, and he could finally tear off the illusion of being one in the same with the other elements.
He had always been too violent, too destructive for the others. Now, pit against them with a wielder who's just as ambitious, he could be who he had always meant to be at last.
It was supposed to be a diplomatic mission, where no one should have come to any harm. One of the main conditions was that both parties were strictly forbidden from carrying any weapons or ulterior motives – but even then, Halilintar had fidgeted and squirmed in his seat throughout the entire journey, an uneasy feeling settling in his gut.
This was his planet they were talking about. He had been created there by their very essence. He was the embodiment of what they stood for and what they strived to become – a heartless warrior who could defeat whoever opposed them. He was once a symbol of bravery and honor beside their rightful ruler up until Retak'ka invaded his planet and stole him away.
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/320056007-288-k143271.jpg)
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One-Shots #2 [Boboiboy]
FanfictionCrack and angst. There is nothing in between. Anyway, enjoy my (and the characters') suffering. Started 22/8/2022 7:39pm. Cover made by me and I aspire to drink myself into a coma with fruit juice.