Far, far in the sky above the city, a floating island was rooted in the clouds, housing thousands upon thousands of avian monsters. Bird-like creatures ranging from as small as a finger and as big as a bus called this place home.

The sanctuary floated above the clouds of pollution the city produced, no miasma nor toxicity could reach it, it served as a clearing of life.

The island itself was the size of a small city district. It was mostly rocky, with huge, powerful crystals that pumped an unending stream of energy keeping the rock afloat. On top of this island was a luscious, green forest with high, sprawled trees that many called their nests. On the edges, the island ended with sharp rocky protrusions that served as housing for those who preferred the safety of stone instead of whispers of leaves.

In the middle of the island was the great oak, whose roots spread into the crystals themselves. Fueling its growth and allowing the crystals to gain power from the sun. The trunk and the roots were huge, big enough to create housing and tunnels after drilling in them years ago. Those tunnels were occupied by the biggest, and most influential of Avian clans. The Ashen Pigeons were counted in thousands, and while not particularly strong, their ability to control flocks of their lesser brethren allowed them enough utility to possess a stronghold in the council.

Their half-sentient homunculi, Sparrow-kin served them without a second thought. They gathered, hunted, and fulfilled any wishes their masters would ask of them.

One such sparrow, barely one meter tall hopped across the tunnel into its deepest part, located right next to the Crystal Nexus. The Oak tunnel was marvelous, its natural lines and throbbing blue and green light invigorated all who had the pleasure of witnessing it.

The Sparrowling reached the end of its route.

The Healing Chambers.

The Nest of Life.

It pushed the wooden gate open with its wing and entered the spacious room that thrummed with life energy. There was only a single occupant inside. In the main root that carried the power deeper, into the nexus, was the person it was tasked to take care of.

He rested within a pod made of entwined roots, with crystal pane covered in runes of growth and healing. From the outside lots of crystal points studded the walls of the pod, additional receivers of energy, or battery farms. The body floated within the thick, viscous sap of the Nest Tree, the lifeblood of this island. This pod was reserved as a last resort for those most badly wounded. It has not been in use for over five decades.

Now, it was struggling to fix the damage on the man, barely enough to allow him to heal. It took over 6 months of their time, and 2 months of surface time to regrow and fix the body, it was pumped with enough healing salve to heal half of their forest occupants, and yet it could not fix completely what The Void has claimed.

While suspended in a gel-like sap, hundreds of small roots dug under his skin, connecting the pathways of power, nerves, and the vascular system, maintaining him and keeping him sedated. Heavily sedated. The accidents when he woke up and trashed the island in maddened rage left deep chasms in the island and the damage was still being handled.

The body was missing an arm, from the elbow down, only semitransparent cracks of depthless black could be visible, creating an outline of the forearm and deadly claws. The chest regrew most of the flesh, pale as the rest of the skin, it bulged with black veins, from behind which a dim yet enticing light shone through. A deep thrumming sound escaped with every beat of it.

The eyes were covered in the oily drops of The Void, depthless black took root within them, and the Void Taint around the rebuilt body lessened in scope, yet grew deeper, stronger.

Settled scars crossed the whole body, even the healing process could not fix the damage on such a deep, existential level. His skin was dotted with over a hundred of Copper Needles, the acupuncture process regulated his frayed internal power circuit and stimulated more growth while he rested.

The 25 ornate, sigil, and gem-covered needles that surrounded his heart and the 5 that were driven deep inside his skull, formed an ever-firing halo of electricity that was powered by the spiral of energy his heart needles harnessed and projected. These ones were not meant to heal, they were seals, the most powerful regulators made of a family-bound Formation that the Hedgehog could create.

Without them, the body would consume itself countless times already.

Next to the pod was a wooden coffin, covered in silver metal chains and locks that bound its contents. What it housed was restless and tireless. The Blade begged to be reunited with its master, to spread more bloodshed, to cut and sever. The chest also needed to be flooded with life energies to sedate the Weapon of Slaughter the man created.

The Avian masters learned their lesson not to keep it with the body, nor to leave it on its own. Even without a wielder, or rather, especially without him to control it, it caused havoc and destruction. It hunted for prey, ambushed whoever came close, and drained their bones while bathing in their blood.

Tens of Sparrowlings were sacrificed to reach it when it first activated, and two of the Elders had to join forces to seal the tool of destruction and put it to rest.

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The only guest from outside the Nest that visited the Man was a creature that terrified all life on the island on an instinctive level. He needed no help entering their domain. He went as he pleased, appearing in the Chamber whenever he wished. The Wards were less than a joke to him. With a swipe, space offered him Passage wherever he desired.

The Stitcher.

A being of immense bloodlust, a manifestation of Slaughter. The Nightmare of Nightmares.

Whenever he appeared all the monsters on the island fell into silence, not daring to risk getting the attention of the mad doctor. Not even a rustle of feathers could be heard as the heavy taste of copper and red aura appeared whenever he arrived.

As the Sparrowling was setting up today's delivery of healing salves and herbs, yet to be mixed into healing potions, its heart skipped a beat. In total silence, it could feel a beast behind it. Its eyes widened as its half-developed consciousness went mad with terror. It stood still, terrified to move an inch.

A sound of metal blades resounded from behind it, the air grew heavy and thick with the smell of blood.

Its heart beat so quickly it threatened to jump out of his chest.

“GO…AWAY…” A scratchy voice resembling sandpaper swiped across gravel whispered to it.

It dropped whatever it held and escaped in blind panic, bouncing off walls and tripping on its thin legs.

As the Homonculus left, The Stitcher closed the gates to the Chamber with his mind.

He took in the sight of his current test subject. A true treasure trove of joy. He enjoyed his time with this subject, it has been centuries since his knives had the opportunity to sink into the flesh of one Damned by Void. And what a peculiar one at that. Almost all Void Tainted shared certain similarities yet they all developed differently.

The Void ate away at certain aspects while leaving others more room to develop and prosper.

Most of the carcasses he had the pleasure to toy with showed abstract mutations and flesh development that were unusual even for him, but this boy here was unique among unique.

A host of the Primordial, a Chaos Conductor.

“Embodiment of Ruin.” He said to himself and the world trembled. His disgusting smile grew wide as spit dribble dropped from the openings in his cut-open lips.

What beauty will he show him, if given time to develop? To grow?

He was happy that the pitiful Crab Man gave him the boy to play with, restricting his urge to cut the body into microscopic stripes and play with it for years on end was hard to contain.

*Nooooot…yeeeeet…” He strained his own mind, controlling his will to torture the plaything.

He willed the Pod to open, the crystal pane sliding downwards, releasing the intense power pulse radiating from the body and the healing, herbal, flowery stench of the gel.

The Stitcher was making his final overview before the boy was awakened. The amount of flesh he had to remove that was destroyed or tainted beyond redemption filled up two of his freezers. He drained a barrel worth of blood that was consuming yet ever-growing.

He will have to be content with that for now, already he has planned tens of experiments to conduct, hundreds of subjects to infect and twist. Conjoin and separate.

“Ohh… Joyy…” He said as unconsciously his dried-out, wound-covered hand lifted up from his Flayed Cloak and pointed forward, toward the Radiating Heart, nicking the skin with one of his Rusted Cleavers.

The Doors behind him swung open, the thick wood clattering as it hit the walls rapidly and a hollow thunk filled the room.

“Stitcher! We had a deal, no unsupervised visits. We could have finished this whole charade a month ago if you didn’t keep cutting out parts of him, do you know how hard it was to regrow his skull and the part of the brain you took? I still don’t know how you did that without opening up his skin but the boy NEEDS. HIS. SKULL. And that’s final!” The Hedgehog Man squeaked at the Butcher as he squeezed through the Gate, electricity crackling in his spikes as he stood up from all fours on his short, stubby limbs and tried to cross his arms over his bulging, furry gray belly.

From behind it, the Head of the Avian Flocks came into the chamber, rubbing his head in annoyance. The Eyes of Skies seemed tired, the bush of his feathers laid flat on his body and his shoulders dropped as he pulled one leg behind the other.

“Hello Stitcher, as always, it’s a pleasure to have you here. Please restrain your Hunger. Every time you visit we have to send additional cleaning Sparrowlings to clean up all the guano from the monsters covering the island in shit from fear.”

Surprisingly, the old bastard conceded, even an old monster like himself could sympathize with how annoying bird droppings can be. He retracted his surface thoughts and closed them within. The air returned to normal and the terror slowly dissipated from the island.

“Thank you, now, did you cut anything yet or can we proceed?” it asked while staring Deep inside the body, looking for any missing pieces.

“No… Lets… start…” He moved away from the pod, his blades clanking under the coat that hid his body.

They all knew what to do, they planned this for a long time. Now, it’s time to awaken the boy.

First, The Avian willed the old magics to slowly back away, draining the pod of the healing salves, retracting all of the roots from the body while other, thicker ones reached down from the ceiling of the pod and wrapped under the armpits and around the wrists. They extended forwards, moving the body in the middle of the three.

As it hung there lifelessly, The Butcher moved under his cloak, with speed and technique imperceivable to others he cut away the blockades, artificial nerve clusters, and sealing formations etched on the bones in the blink of an eye. The body was released from the restraints it was put under, stopping the suspended animation.

Next, The Thunderspike took control over his previous work, using electromagnetism he removed the needles around the body in particular order, making sure to guide the rampant energies correctly so the body wouldn’t implode or explode.

As the last of the Minor Spikes left the body, guided by thin strands of lightning, the three got ready. Even the Butcher shifted his stance a bit.

The Hedgehog started whispering his litany, in the language of the old tribes, he called upon his patron. The lord of thunder, of energies and skies. He used his will for battle to stimulate the body’s will to live, to fight for survival.

Now it was time to awaken.

As the air grew thick, popping randomly within the chamber and the smell of Ozon filled their nostrils, the spikes on the hedgehog and the ones embedded in the man started radiating blue and white light. They vibrated and buzzed with power.

The litany to the old god came to an End.

“...BY THE WILL OF THE LORD OF THUNDER, BY HIS POWERS YOU WILL THRIVE, YOU ARE RELEASED FROM YOUR BINDINGS, SET FORTH AND CONQUER THAT WHICH IS UNDER HIS SKY. IN THE NAME OF PERUN, LET YOUR HUNT START NOW, BE UNSTOPABLE, YOU ARE RELEASED.”

As those words resounded, reality folded upon itself, a will grand and overwhelming looked upon them from a realm far away and granted its blessing,

Violent thunder filled the room, guided by his followers, it concentrated on the bindings, melting them as they conducted divine power.

The Heart fed on the immense voltage and any overflow sunk deep into the void scars.

It shone so bright the three had to cover their eyes, the dark silhouette bathed in blinding light.

After a moment passed, they heard a thump, the shine died down and they could look back. The floor around the sprawled body was charred. From under its chest and from its head, blood of the darkest red with crackling motes releasing from it flowed in the scars in the wood left by lightning.

As the smoke lifted from the body a deep, hollow BOOM was heard, then another one, and another, they resounded faster and faster, and as the man awakened and started coughing while twisting on the floor, they became quieter. More contained.

As the boy shakily stood up, with empty hollow eyes, the three prepared themselves for the worst.