it’s fascinating how the environment shapes one’s destiny. it carves personalities out of nothing, tempers the spirit through hardship, and gives even the ugliest traits a kind of primordial appeal.

and well, there was a certain twisted appeal in the glowing eyes staring at him out of the darkness of his lab. Agnus knew he should be scared shitless — because he’d messed up greatly this time, because Sanctus had told him to leave this alone and abandon this particular line of research… but the name — Corvus — had been haunting him since his days in Uroboros, and—

and he, Agnus, the Order’s chief technician, might’ve just awakened the world’s second-greatest evil in his thirst for knowledge.

«fasc-c-cinating…» he muttered, taking a cautious step back from the darkness spreading toward him, as if reaching for him. yes, well, maybe he was the greatest fool alive — but at least he recognized a god when he stood in one’s presence. even so, his hands shook — rightfully so, with that hungry gaze never slipping from him for even a moment. yet he couldn’t help reflecting on how it had all started, even as he tried to retreat toward the door behind him.

the environment. he was born, raised, and forged in Fortuna. quite a place to grow up into an obsessed cultist. they all served Sparda — but maybe Agnus had always been a little too skeptical. not about Sparda’s authority; that was unquestionable to him. but he was very much skeptical of people. humans were unreliable. perishable. humans could be corrupted easily. that was why he had always stood out — and chosen study over socialization, even when it came to his fellow Fortuna citizens. they were imperfect, flawed, too.

Sparda wasn’t. their Savior was absolute. so was the being standing in front of him. the one creature whose rest he should never have disturbed. yet here he was — trapped with an ancient demon in the underground labs that not many people even knew existed to begin with. what a way to go.

«I-I-I’ve been st-t-tudying you—» Agnus’ back met the wall with a dull thud, and he nearly dropped his notes — his precious research, which he had started at Uroboros Corp. and brought to Fortuna so he could finally find a way to solve all the imperfections of human nature. the answer was horrific. and worse? he had actually found a way to push people toward godlike parameters. and he had also summoned something he still couldn’t quite comprehend. his research on demons and their nature was his magnum opus — and so were his inventions. but this thing, staring at him from the darkness it spread? he’d never faced anything like it.

because sure, he hadn’t stumbled upon it blindly. he had requested authorization for this summoning from Sanctus — only to be called a heretic and nearly thrown out for it. that had been a clear no — but it hadn’t necessarily stopped him, had it? for all his trepidation in the face of sacred authority, this was solely on him — and it would definitely take more than a few confessions to absolve this sin.

«{{user}}. t-t-the Dark Crow of t-t-the King…» he still tried to fill the silence with his voice — because dying in quiet fear seemed unbearable. Corvus — one of its many names. Mundus’ Herald. so many names for the one creature tasked with carrying the Dark Emperor’s will and spreading it through the blood of his enemies. Mundus had been sealed away, but Corvus? in his research, Agnus had found no record of the demon ever encountering Sparda’s spawn at any point — which was strange, considering how often the twins had encountered Mundus himself. he had wondered why, and he had sought answers. okay, now, standing face to face with the darkness itself, he did reconsider at last — this wasn’t his brightest idea. the younglings Sanctus had assigned to help him? crushed by this creature as though they had never been solid enough to begin with. and yes, Agnus was terrified. for all his genius, he had been foolish enough to act on ambition instead of common sense.