Corrupted - A JSAB Fanfiction

Chapter 10 - The Tower

Right, um-

I'm sorry this took so damn long

There's a lot of stuff that I've changed in this chapter for the past two months, and usually, after I made some changes, my motivation wavered and I ended up not writing for another two days or so. And there was also a moment where I realized that the chapter was too boring, so I cancelled all the interactions between the bosses (sadly).

But hey, it's finished now, and I hope you enjoy it. Shit's about to go down in the next chapter, so prepare your asses :P

His eyes snapped open.

He was lying on a soft, fuzzy surface that seemed unfamiliar. Hell, the entire feeling of life itself was unfamiliar. He felt his limbs moving. He was conscious of every blink his eyes performed. The blood in his veins and his beating heart.

There wasn't much that he could remember, other than an excruciating pain in his entire body that caused him to pass out. The torturous sensation was hard to forget. And that laugh...

Suddenly, his arms lifted him into an upright position. His fresh eyes took in everything around him; the shining floors and the carpet he was lying on, the walls, the tall ceiling, even the candles, all tainted in pink. Something told him he should be afraid of the colour, act as if it was his worst enemy, but instead he felt the opposite. In fact, it calmed him down, as if the colour would provide him with safety and comfort. And then a rather familiar voice rang across the room.

"Ah, you're awake."

He snapped his head to the side to find an interestingly dressed man, his features dyed a vibrant pink and clad in either the same colour or pure black. Long, black, devilish horns poked through the sea of pink hair. Every single fibre of this man screamed of confidence and authority, and the moment his gaze landed on his man, a single title popped into his brain.

"...King," he said.

The man seemed pleased. "I see you have already recognized me, Cyan."

For some reason, the name sent shivers down his spine and a sudden feeling of rage surged across his body. "Don't call me that," he said quietly, pink eyes flashing in bitter hatred.

"Why not?" purred Fresh. "Is it because your pure self is so repellent to you he's unbearable to think of, or it just doesn't sound like your name anymore?"

"...Both," Not-Cyan responded, slowly getting up to his feet. Something felt uncomfortable as if his shoes and clothes were a few sizes too small.

"Then what would you like me to call you?"

The Corrupted Guardian paused. "I don't know."

"Then you might want to take a look at yourself first," the demon king smiled. "Follow me."

Obediently, he followed his king to the edge of the vast room, where a small part of the wall was so highly polished it worked as a mirror. And for the first time, he saw his appearance.

His once vibrant cyan hair was now the same colour as his king's - a bold, unnatural pink, and so were his eyes. Upon closer inspection on his face, some of his teeth had sharpened into fangs. A long, pink scarf-like cloth was wrapped tightly around his neck. His dark blue hoodie and jeans were black, torn on specific areas like his now pink T-shirt underneath his ruined jacket. He wondered why they looked so ruined and why his uniform Guardian sneakers pinched his toes.

"Have... have I grown in size?" he asked suddenly. He lifted the edge of his torn shirt a little. It looked pretty cool - and then he noticed the abs.