"Named after the word 'Suffering', you have been diligent in maximizing your purpose as the guardian of the 'Forbidden'.
"Alas, the timing of the awakening that you rejected so much has finally pierced its roots, deep inside every one of you. Cruciatus, you're neither a living being nor an individual.
"You're the manifestation of the 'Forbidden', the one who holds the story of a certain event. I truly pity you."
Cruciatus staggered hearing those words. His mind was still confused. He felt something was missing, something important had left his memory.
After his effort, his eyes were opened to the vision of the fight with Jack.
"I remembered, I was supposed to die!" Cruciatus looked left and right in panic. "Did he make it out alive!? There is a violent shadow piercing me in the chest and my nigh end is reaching its end—"
"Be afraid not, my child. Despite you having already fulfilled your role, your adversary is still well and alive, fighting with the malignant side of you." A soothing choir was produced by the sentient black smoke, trying to calm Cruciatus down. "I'm here. All of those questions, those worries, those mysteries, those miseries—I've finally arrived to answer it all."
"So I'm still alive." Cruciatus looked down, his feet were trembling but he managed to stay standing. "What is that thing, the shadow? The evil that has been haunting me over the course of my life…
"I can feel it…" Cruciatus gazed at his hands. "I have thousands of limbs. I'm blind yet I'm seeking. Every inch of my existence screams madness as it unleashes the heavy burden that I'm carrying…"
"My poor child." The sentient smoke expanded, leaving a square absence space for it to project an imagery for Cruciatus to behold. "It started from the 'Forbidden' event. Thousands of you were once foul yet innocent guinea pigs.
"In the simplest terms, my child, you are one but many." The vision shifted into an image of multiple shadow humanoids being trapped within a large tube of liquid within a gloomy laboratory. "Pain is your friend, your creator, and your end. Out of all the berserk vessels, you managed to stand out from the rest by surviving. Eventually taking the role of the guardian who bears the sins of myriad within your soul.
"You're alive, because you're strong. Soon, you will become stronger and you will reclaim what is righteous to you, with your own hand."
Cruciatus pondered on his origin. Such impurity had manifested him. Many words were mangled because it was supposed to be kept away from his head. He didn't want to understand yet he acknowledged his birth.
With a helpless voice, he asked, "What is this 'Forbidden'?"
"Like its name, it's the corruption of the world. A huge sin and regret that was buried deep by its perpetrator. It's also an important ingredient and puzzle piece for the Great Transcendance, but such a calamity should be kept as null beneath the abyss.
"But all of this will pale in comparison when you will acquire your freedom." The sentient smoke closed its empty gap once again. Its dark color soon to be emitting a faint vapor of purple sparks and red dust. "The moment you defeat your adversary, you will be set free."
"What kind of freedom shall I tarnish its meaning, when all I have is an abomination and heavy sin as my vessel!?"
"That is not your vessel. You're merely a consciousness, a soul without its husk." The sentient smoke expanded, trying to overwhelm its child with sheer size. "That so-called friend of yours is your future husk. You shall claim him, and be free, running on the grass, sipping water from the river, and even setting your gaze on the sun.
"Are you sure that you don't want it?"
Cruciatus looked down once again. He clenched his fist to suppress his reluctance and anger. It had been many, many silence and unwanted torture that he had brought to himself.
All he wanted to be was to be set free.
Nothing else, he merely just a tool for a greater end. He didn't want it. Although, it would be meaningless if he took the life of the person he truly wanted to live.
"Jack Armstrong is my adversary." Cruciatus looked up, facing the 'Mother' with a stern gaze. "He is strong, he won't be easily defeated. He is different from me."
"Are you sure?"
"I have yet met such a noble warrior and an individual at heart." A small dagger with large geometric scales as its guard manifested within Cruciatus' clutch. "Your temptation is null! 'Mother'!"
A disappointed sigh from the 'Mother' could be heard. The sentient cloud weaved itself forward and enshrouded Cruciatus, directly sending the manifestation of 'Forbidden' sins into the vision.
"If you really think that this man is strong and different from you, then I shall prove it to you that he wasn't."
Cruciatus was brought into an unknown place, somewhere outside of the world he was in. In an unfamiliar time, and an unfamiliar view.
He was in a long and dim hallway, numerous doors could be seen bearing their own distinctive number. He only floated like an unconnected and invisible phantom, a mere guest, a mere spectator.
"Where is this?" asked Cruciatus.
"In a few moments, you will see the former life of your adversary."
Confused, he waited until something happened.
Few seconds had passed, and he could finally hear rhythmic footsteps from a distance. From the darkness, slowly manifested a woman in a lab coat and a man that might need to duck when entering one of the doors because of his height.
Out of the two individuals, Cruciatus was forced to gaze at the overwhelming presence of the tall man.
His shoulder was broad and wide as it held a mercenary jacket hanging to his back. Strong muscles could be seen protruding even beneath the fabric of his white shirt.
A soft glinting reflection of the hallway's bulbs could be seen on the short and oiled jet-black hair that was stroked to the back of his head. His face passed beyond the criteria of a handsome person, but as a current moment, the serious frown and hopeless expression made him more fearsome and gloomy than charming.
"Is this man, the Jack Armstrong I fought?" asked Cruciatus.
The 'Mother' replied, "Yes."
"Even though you said that he isn't strong, I don't think that someone could call him weak when they are right in front of him."
Cruciatus then hovered over the women in a lab coat, she could be seen holding a clipboard with documents attached to it. Curious, he peeked over to glimpse some of the words within the complicated section of information.
Name: Petra Armstrong
Age: 14
Sex: Female
Status: Terminally ill
Subject: One of the victims from the Apollo Incident.
There were more to the report but Cruciatus couldn't understand most of them.