Sister Passion's First Moment

The blade of bone and sinew turned another beast of burning flesh and fur into a stain on undulating walls of skin and gore, the death knell cut short by the sound of it’s existence condensing into a shiny token making a bright and chirpy “plink!” upon hitting the keratin floor. A scar covered paw scooped it up, absorbing it in an instant.

Seven foot, a being that had only the title Hound to call herself trudged eternally forward, covered in equal parts half healed scars and cracked wrought iron armor. As far as she had known, the entire world was this tower of blood and gore. Moving forward, getting hurt and spraying blood everywhere before removing the problem from her path crudely, a cycle repeating for as many hallways as her memories would allow. She didn’t know WHY she kept going, frankly…

“Then stop.” Came the first voice she ever heard. Eerily calm, coming from the empty helmet of a suit of wrought iron armor standing suddenly across from her, taking up the entirety of the hallway that felt more and more narrow with every second. “You’ve no reason to keep going. Why continue?”

“… I don’t want to stop.” were the first words she ever spoke. “That’s why.” The next sounds to come from a throat that suddenly had purpose were grunts of effort as the suit of armor cleared the distance of the room and swung a blade made of it’s skin in a smear of motion, bone and sinew creaking and threatening to chip as weapons wrestled for dominance.

“YOU DON’T WANT TO!? YOU THINK ANYONE OR ANYTHING CARES?!” the armor screamed and boiled over magma from it’s empty head. “Childish selfish piece of shit! Die right here! You don’t even know where you are or who you are!” The Hound’s blade of bone chipped and cracked, Passion bleeding from it in place of marrow, obscenities and hatred spilling forth from the armor as the hallway closed further and further in, as the ceiling and armor joined hands to force the Hound onto her knees.

“I… don’t care what anyone or anything cares about!” the Hound finally spat back through cracking teeth as the concept of existing pressed down on her from all sides, desperate to flatten her into something else. “I don’t want to stop… more important than that…” existence shook for a moment and the voice of the armor screamed magma into the gaps between itself and the Hound as it’s infinite crushing pressure found a sudden limit, and a force beginning to push it backwards a quark’s length. “I want to go FORWARD! I WANT to find something else than bleeding hallways!” femtometers become pico, nano, micro and millimeters in the time it takes the universe to expand. In the time it takes a scream to pass through the Hound’s lungs and lips a cracking blade of bone unable to do anything but defend becomes a perfect parry against everything there is, the empty armor sent flying back an infinitely expanding hallway, specks of Passion flying from the bleeding bone and melting gore away to reveal machines of chance lined up eagerly across the walls, begging for their first meal to give them the energy to play in the fields of probability.

Bone blade held tight in teeth that that refused to fall apart no matter how strongly existence pressed against them the Hound shot forward to her foe before it could even touch expanding ground, paws stretched to the sides and bleeding tokens into chance’s hungry mouths. Quintillions of reels began to spin and the quiet expanse turned into a concert of noises designed to drag the serotonin kicking and screaming out of a brain. The armor’s feet finally met the ground and forced the tower to cease expansion behind it, killing momentum. It’s empty head looked up in time to see the Hound three infinities away and traveling at the rate of two per second, followed by a flood of memories, experience and life itself.

Blades met again as seven feet of Hound became eight, nine, ten before settling on growing by the half an inch a moment instead of a full foot. Passion bled eagerly from the blade of bone, turning the keratin it pooled on into a puddle of love and pleasure. Eyes that spent an eternity dead filled with stars as the air began to bend with heat.

“So… SO WHAT?! YOU THINK THIS MEANS ANYTHING!? YOU’RE GONNA REGAIN YOURSELF, GONNA JUST IGNITE, GONNA GET OFF SCOTT FREE AND LIVE HOWEVER YOU WANT LIKE YOU FUCKING DESERVE IT!?” the armor boiled over again, growing in lockstep with the Hound. “DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHO I AM!?”

“Of course I do, dumbass!” the Hound answered, a final token bleeding from her and rolling across the floor before finally landing in the only hungry mouth of chance. “You’re the same as everything else in here!” reels span with the force of big bangs, spanning cosmic lifetimes before entropy forced them to slow. One by one the image of fire appeared as the blade of bone finally broke, spewing Passion like a geyser. Taller than herself now, the Hound caught the wrought iron blade in her paws and snapped it in half with a single motion, sparks flying. The Hound’s face turned into a manic grin as those sparks met Passion, and like a weed, naturally, as a matter of course, Ignited everything.

In a land that will be once called Earth there stood a tower that stretched to the heavens themselves, that skewered satellites and clawed at the void of space for purchase. It had baffled researchers for weeks. Even more baffling was the fact that it suddenly was internally several orders of magnitude hotter than the sun before it came crashing down on itself from the top to the bottom. The most baffling of all was the fourteen foot tall naked dog woman, stretching her lurid form in the rays of the sun and sighing contently. Her eyes opened and revealed foreign constellations to the eyes of everyone trying to approach her. With a flex of fresh new joints she was already standing behind them, tail wagging fast enough to knock several soldiers and scientists forward. “I always wanted to do a flash step. If you bozos want an answer as to what’s been going on, well…” the Hound smirked as the air warped around her before exploding into Flame the color of Passion, wrapping around fur burning itself with probability. “It was me.”