Chapter Text
From the moment of the Batter’s creation, he was made decidedly aware of his life's meaning: to cleanse this unsalvageable world, and let no one sway him from his noble cause.
This, however, isn’t the only responsibility the Batter must shoulder. He and the add-ons that aid him have to grow stronger, in order to swiftly overcome any impure being that dares to stand in their way.
To this end, the Batter wanders the stark white structures of Zone 1, scavenging whatever remains in this pristine land that may benefit him in his quest. Afterwards, he’ll journey to the other zones, as they have also been deprived of their tyrannical guardians and set free from their malicious reign.
For now, the Batter focuses his aim on one of the devilish humanoids that endlessly roam the zones. With a decisive swing, the monster’s bulbous head goes flying, landing among the heaps of metal scattered throughout Pentel.
It doesn’t perturb him that these creatures take up residence in this pure place. The Batter has been utilizing the sport of hunting them for training purposes.
Carefully pushing aside numerous metal piles, so as not to become trapped by them, the Batter collects more boons that the world offers its savior. He proceeds through the barn and walks further north, not allowing distant sounds of banging, whispering, and yelling any purchase in his mind. Just past a set of monorail tracks, the Batter shoves aside another array of metal spheres. He enters the doorway they had protected and climbs to the precipice of a tall building.
Ever unflinching in the face of abnormalcy, the Batter finds a plant. Its vivid green stem is obnoxious in the zone’s sea of sterile white. An enormous eye lays on the ground beside it, its gaze erratic, yet somehow it bores a hole through its visitor.
Despite its lack of a mouth, the enigmatic being’s voice rings in an otherworldly manner.
“Oh, is that you, Cob?
…Oh, no you’re not. You’re someone else. Please go…”
Unfortunately, the odd sound falls on the Batter’s deaf ears. He doesn’t entertain its plea, knowing that nothing it could say will deter his actions.
Before the Batter is an impure entity, one whose existence he will not tolerate.
As he raises his bat in anticipation of a fight, the sky is suddenly engulfed in shades of purple, with glittering stars observing the battlefield from above. The eye from mere seconds ago transforms into a majestic lion, whose face is adorned with a deeply sorrowful expression.
Exorcising this foe is a mundane task. Although it can rapidly heal its own wounds, the Batter’s capacity for violence far outpaces its regenerative ability. He beats it without mercy, and instructs his add-ons to do the same. All the while, the beast implores him for a reason behind his assault, and suggests peace. The Batter once again ignores it, putting more energy into his vicious blows.
In an act of desperation, the lion ceases its useless talk and grows thorny vines around the Batter and his allies. The Batter’s next swing pulls the vines tighter around his body, several thorns poking through his uniform and pricking his skin. The pain isn’t nearly enough to worry about, so he brushes them off and continues his barrage. Shortly after, he succeeds in slaying his adversary. The lavender sky dissipates, and blinding white light reclaims its place above the skyscraper’s roof.
“So, here we are. This is the end for me. There already wasn’t much left…”
A concerning sensation pervades the Batter’s consciousness. Where previously there had been a persistent force, a Player who constantly and silently guided him, now there was only an internal monologue.
Why is its speech so much clearer now…?
…Whatever. I don’t recall caring about this impure creature’s feelings.
Regardless of this immutable fact, the Batter’s attention stays fixated on the lion’s final words.
“Finish your work now, find the others. I’m leaving.”
With that curt farewell, the seraphic incarnation, Source, passes away. Its defeat leaves the Batter with more questions than answers, but it doesn’t matter to him.
At least, it wouldn’t have mattered before.
Something happened during that battle, something that affected the Batter down to his very soul. He’s not the type to feel anxiety, like many of this world’s former denizens, but a similar emotion sits like a chunk of metal inside of him, in a place he cannot locate.
There’s no use lingering on it… I have a mission to fulfill. I must…
‘Purify this world.’ That’s been the Batter’s mantra since he first drew breath. Instead, what he thought to himself was:
Find the others…
I never asked that thing its name, or even what it was, and yet I knew anyway. Whatever it did to me, maybe these ‘others’ would know. I can’t let this minor inconvenience jeopardize my duty, and these beings shouldn’t be left unchecked.
His reasoning set in stone, the Batter descends back down the tower and sets off for Zone 2.