Shifting Jewels - Chapter One, Corrupted Clash
YOOOOOO!!! @cosmicrain-draws @otherxagnela, I did it! Here's the first chapter of my Steven Universe/Fusion AU. Hope it fits the cash lol. It's on AO3 under the same name btw.
The unrelenting rain pounded relentlessly, transforming the ground beneath him into a clinging mud that sought to impede his every step. Refusing to yield, he pressed forward, maintaining a determined pace in pursuit of the corrupted gem weaving through the rain-soaked forest. The falling water blurred his vision, but the swish of the gem’s tail remained discernible. As he ventured deeper, marked trees hinted at the proximity of the impending trap. A subtle grin played on his lips, excitement building with each step toward the climax of the hunt.
With a purposeful thrust, he extended his spear, just enough to graze the gem’s leg. It responded with a primal roar, a visceral testament to its degraded state. Despite his inherent superiority, he failed to suppress the brief and shameful hiss that escaped him.
Skidding to a stop in the muddy terrain, satisfaction etched across his face as the meticulously set trap snapped shut with a resounding crack. The gem convulsed within the bear trap, its protests merging with the drumming rain. Its final display of resistance ended with the corrupted gem bursting into mist, leaving the gem to clatter to the rain-soaked ground. Navigating the backup traps, he carefully approached the fallen gem.
In the feeble light, the gem lay before him—a once-proud warrior now marred by animalistic corruption, its once-vibrant azure hue now tainted with ugly shades of green. Hopefully, the Diamonds would be able to reverse the corruption once he found a way to get back to Homeworld. The uncertainty struck a chord in his chest as he picked up the gem and encapsulated it within a crimson bubble. He pushed on its top lightly, sending the bubble away to his temple.
A heavy sigh escaped him, his eyes slipping shut as he stood amidst the relentless downpour. The gentle sensation of the droplets that slid over him momentarily shielded him from the weight of his thoughts. After allowing a few stolen moments to catch a breath he didn’t truly need, he reopened his eyes and took a deliberate step forward. A sharp pang reverberated through him at the motion, causing him to double over as his form glitched and shivered. Fleeting yet intense, the pain subsided, leaving a lingering discomfort.
A soft curse slipped from his lips as his hand instinctively sought for the gem on his back. A wince accompanied the touch, yet he persisted, gently tracing the extensive cracks marbling the red rock. Time weighed on him; he had to hurry, for if the looming threat of the corruption didn’t get to him first, then the impending risk of his shattering will.
A soft chirp escaped him, a dissonant sound that marred the quiet symphony of the rain. A deep frown grew on his face, he despised those seemingly inconsequential noises. Such utterances belonged to creatures of the wild, to insects, not to him—not for a gem designed to command in the crucible of war. He staunchly affirmed his identity, declaring that he wasn’t bound by the constant specter of death, that his body should not bleed, and he shouldn’t be susceptible to pain. However, a quick glance at his arms and legs shattered the illusion.
In some grotesque sense, he admitted, he bore the semblances of an animal. The corruption’s insidious touch reached him, even in the depths where he sought refuge within the planet’s crust. The result? It had morphed him into a grotesque hybrid creature, bestowing upon him a natural armor, unbidden and unbroken by the need for constant concentration. His once-graceful hands morphed into sharp claws, while spikes adorned his arms and legs. He might have welcomed it, had it not been marred by sporadic bouts of animalistic hazes that incapacitated him for days and turned him into something less than the calculated warrior he was meant to be.
A surge of pain jolted through him, an unwelcome intrusion that fractured his thoughts, compelling a pained hiss to escape through clenched teeth. As the wave of discomfort receded, he redirected his gaze upward, fixing a glare upon the sky, more precisely, at the rain that aggravated his gem. The persistent irritation urged him to hasten his steps; he needed to escape before the pain resurfaced. His movements, though quick and precise, bore the subtle aftermath of the recent hunt—a measured trot, simple yet effective, propelling him toward his destination.
The warp pad beyond the forest materialized before him, a sight that prompted a weary sigh to escape him. Stepping onto the platform, he initiated the activation sequence, his form engulfed by the enveloping white beam as he embarked on the tranquil journey through the warp. The low hum of the warp enveloped him, a soothing melody that accompanied him on his brief interdimensional travels. Shaking off the lingering droplets that clung to him like persistent memories, he materialized at his temple within moments.
Stepping off the warp pad, he navigated through the cavernous expanse that served as his dwelling. It was a far cry from what one might envision as a temple—a vast network of interconnected caves, carved naturally by the Earth’s ancient forces. Discovered during his early solitary years, he had claimed it as his own, designating the largest and deepest chamber as a holding room for the corrupted gems he collected. Fortune favored him when he stumbled upon the remnants of an old gem warp pad within the cavern, an artifact from a time when others might have considered the space for storage or as a base. Now, it belonged to him.
The chamber embraced him with warmth, a comforting cloak that gently eased the persistent ache in his back as he stepped inside. A small, appreciative smile tugged at his lips, a fleeting expression of solace before his gaze fell upon the captivating sight that unfolded before him—a sea of well over a thousand bubbled gems.
Among them lay soldiers he had once commanded, their forms encapsulated in the protective bubbles. A few were gems he had personally trained, their potential honed under his meticulous guidance. Others belonged to the rebellion, the audaciously named Crystal Gems—misguided rebels whom he intended to return to service on Homeworld, whether through voluntary submission or the unforgiving embrace of a Rejuvenator.
Yet, amidst the multitude of captured gems, one conspicuous absence resonated. A special sapphire, elusive and untamed, continued to roam the earth unchecked. This particular gem held a unique significance, a presence he desired to see once more, even amidst the looming threat that the encounter might result in his own shattering. Curiosity gripped him as he pondered the potential manifestation of the sapphire’s corrupted form. Would it mirror the colossal and monstrous demeanor of the sapphire’s combat prowess, a formidable force both beside him and against him? Or, perhaps, would it bear a softer, diminutive semblance, a reflection of the gem’s original personality before the taint of corruption took hold?
He found himself immersed in contemplation, a forbidden luxury for a gem of his rank. The act of wondering was a privilege reserved for the Diamonds, the omnipotent rulers unbound by the constraints of laws. It was a privilege bestowed upon the architects who conceived the intricate designs of gems, envisioning the vast potential inherent in the amalgamation of dirt and minerals to give rise to life. It was a privilege granted to those who forged the indelible legacy of Homeworld, allowing them to dream of towering spires and establish bases on desolate moons.
He, on the other hand, was a humble soldier—a commander, yes, but a soldier nonetheless. In the hierarchy of gem society, he existed to execute orders, not to indulge in idle contemplation. Wondering was not his domain, a realm he shouldn’t even be able to access. Yet, as one of his claws gently traced the surface of a bubble, he found himself succumbing to the forbidden allure of curiosity, allowing his mind to venture into the forbidden territory of speculative thoughts.
Those thoughts, once crisp and defined, now morphed into indistinct muddles, a hazy fog settling over his consciousness. The widening of his eyes marked the realization of an impending descent into the tumult of corruption, a curse escaping his lips as the disorienting wave washed over him. Swiftly, he pivoted on his heels, abandoning the room in a frantic retreat.
His hurried footsteps reverberated through the labyrinthine halls, their rhythm growing increasingly erratic as the encroaching corruption tightened its grip. Panic, a disconcerting sensation that had once been foreign to him, now clung to him like an old companion, urging him to greater speeds. His mad dash led him to the warp room, a sanctuary where the promise of escape beckoned.
Time dwindled rapidly, and the urgency mounted. Barely managing to step onto the warp pad, he initiated the sequence, opting for a random destination in a desperate bid for salvation. However, the corruption’s relentless advance proved insurmountable. In the final throes of consciousness, he succumbed to the encroaching darkness, his vision fading into an abyss of black.
He stirred into consciousness after what he knew was a long time, the dull throb of a headache persisting within his thoughts. A low groan escaped his lips, his eyes clamped shut against the pulsating ache in his skull. Nestled in the shadows, he remained motionless, seeking to replenish some of the energy devoured by the encroaching corruption. As the minutes ticked by and the headache receded into a more manageable ache, he cautiously focused on his surroundings.
Without unveiling his eyes, he initiated a deliberate ascent, settling onto his knees. Flinching at the sparks of pain, a deep breath offered a modicum of relief to his frazzled nerves. The air, tinged with an unexpected saltiness, felt damp and cool, a welcome antidote to the lingering burn of exhaustion. Gradually, he tuned into the subtle sounds—the wind weaving through the trees, the distant lapping of waves, and the earthy texture beneath his hands as they pressed into the soil. Wait…
Opening his eyes, he glanced downward, confirming that his hands were indeed embedded in the ground. The notion that the ground possessed an audible quality struck him as intriguing. Lifting his eyes to the night sky, he surveyed the tranquil surroundings. It was a peaceful night, with the moon gracefully descending toward the horizon, heralding the imminent arrival of dawn.
The world unfolded around him with an unsettling clarity, a starkness that surpassed his comfort. His brow furrowed into a frown as he raised a hand to rub at his face. Something felt amiss. Was he facing the throes of mortality? Could he even succumb to such a fate? Sighing, he ran his hand roughly through his hair. A near-painful sensation bit at his head, forcing his hand back. A soft hiss escaped him as he inspected his hand, finding the limb unharmed. Whatever had bitten him seemed to reside on his head. Could it be a small animal? No, the sensation didn’t seem disconnected from him.
Slowly, he lifted his hand again, delicately sifting through his hair in search of…
There. He gently curled a finger around an odd stem protruding from his head, a subtle unease coiling in his chest. The reason for his discomfort eluded him as he touched the peculiar stick-like growth. A swift survey of his surroundings confirmed his suspicions. Sticks, remnants of his corrupted haze, had entangled themselves in his hair. Another sigh escaped him before he wrapped his hand around the intruding stick and tugged.
A guttural scream tore through the air as a surge of pain seared through his head. He recoiled, burying his forehead into the cool earth, his hands scrambling to dig through his hair and cradle his aching skull. Shivers wracked his frame, the lingering pain refused to dissipate as swiftly as the sharp, immediate agony accompanying his initial crack. This was different—reminiscent of the persistent torment he endured during the onset of his crack or the insidious grip of corruption’s first embrace.
Gradually, the pain began to ebb, a slow retreat from its initial ferocity. After agonizing minutes, he tentatively attempted to sit up once more. One hand remained entwined in his hair, anchoring him in the present, while the other planted firmly into the soil for stability. A twinge of discomfort coursed through the thing on his head as he moved, prompting a soft hiss. Extricating his hand from his hair, he inadvertently caught another appendage. A cursory search revealed only two entangled in his hair before he rested his hands in his lap, glowering at the empty space before him. Another gift corruption-induced addition, a bothersome intrusion into his being.
One of the appendages twitched in response to his annoyance, catching his attention. Its length was such that it intruded into his peripheral vision.
A low growl, a shameful animalistic sound, escaped him as he rose to his feet. Gingerly, he touched the newly acquired appendages, relieved when the one he had tugged didn’t trigger a surge of pain. Now, the challenge lay in figuring out if he could exert control over these strange extensions. Concealing them would be ideal—perhaps tucked away in his hair if they reached far enough back.
With careful precision, he brushed the appendages backward, experiencing relief as they obediently nestled into his hair. Experimenting with different movements, he searched for a specific new nerve that would grant him control. After several minutes of focused practice, he succeeded in maneuvering them to some extent, allowing him to keep them discreetly concealed within his hair. Though still present, they became barely noticeable, at least from the front. A quick touch confirmed their length, indicating they were long enough to protrude from his hair in the back—a less-than-ideal outcome. Nevertheless, they were now out of his line of sight, and should he encounter a human and find himself too fatigued to dispel the creature, he mused that he could pass it off as an intentional aesthetic choice. After all, humans in this era were consumed by their appearances.
He embarked on the journey to retrace his steps, guided by the rising sun illuminating his path. Proficient in the art of tracking, be it trailing corrupted gems or retracing his own corrupted footsteps, he navigated the terrain with practiced ease. Hours passed before he encountered something familiar, the sun nearing its zenith. His clawed hand gently traced ancient carvings, grappling with the embarrassment of taking an unusually long time to recall the language in which the words were etched.
“Star was here,” he mumbled to himself, his voice low and rough from disuse. Peeling back some moss, he revealed cartoonish depictions of what appeared to be Pink Diamond and several other gems. Similar carvings adorned the planet, ranging from simple declarations like ‘Star was here!’ to intricate sculptures of gems and the Diamonds. Over the years, he had found solace in discovering these marks, a reminder that he hadn’t always been alone.
This particular carving, one he had encountered many times, served as a natural marker signaling his proximity to his temple. A few miles north, he would be able to retreat to the comforting warmth of the lowest chamber, earning a well-deserved break. A hiss escaped him as his hand started glitching, swiftly reforming into a foot. Frowning, he shook the limb until it reverted to its original state.
Rumors circulated about the Crystal Gem’s leader possessing the ability to heal any gem—an ability that enraged Homeworld, as healing powers were reserved for the elite, namely the Diamonds. How the rebellion’s leader acquired such powers remained a mystery, but he had made it his mission to uncover the secret of the healing fountain the rebels so proudly boasted about. The sooner he found that fountain, the sooner he could mend his crack and devise a method to stave off the encroaching corruption.
His antennae (a term he adopted after observing their uncanny resemblance to a local beetle’s) involuntarily perked up, alerting him to the distant murmur of voices. Though too far away to discern the words, one of the voices struck an oddly familiar chord. His eyes narrowed in thought. Could it be one of the humans he had conversed with in the past? Unlikely, as too much time had passed for any human to remember him. When was the last time he had engaged in conversation with one? Their lifespans were short, and he reckoned it had been well over 50 years since his last encounter. The voices drew nearer, sparking a curious itch born from some corrupted instinct within him. Deciding to dismiss it, he turned and resumed his journey to the temple.
“Aw, come on!” The voice echoed with a familiarity that tugged at the edges of his memories. Against his better judgment, he pivoted on his heel and hastened toward the source. Surprisingly, his antennae proved more sensitive than he initially realized, taking nearly ten minutes to pinpoint the location. As he slowed and crouched down, he could hear the humans’ laughter.
“Yeah, I recognize this spot.” The voice, the one that triggered a peculiar urge within him, stirred an unspoken desire for conflict. Creeping closer, he observed the two figures in a small clearing. In its center, a seemingly ordinary rock assumed a significant role—a base pillar, its original purpose obscured by time, now a favored spot for humans to lean on.
The human leaning against the pillar appeared peculiar yet strangely familiar. Their skin bore a rich brown hue with subtle blue undertones, their hair so dark blue it verged on black in the absence of direct sunlight. Dressed in vibrant colors of pink and yellow, they crossed their arms over their chest, grinning at the other human.
“Why do you want to come here anyway?” The other, a plainly dressed villager in comparison, inquired. The colorful individual patted the pillar beside them.
“I’m hunting,” declared the colorful human. “I’ve been here before, and I heard rumors that there’s some massive beast nearby.” Unbeknownst to the human, the beast they sought was likely the corrupted gem he had recently subdued.
“Well, that beast hasn’t been seen for a while. Some folks back in town mentioned hearing it scream before a loud bang echoed out. Sorry, but I think someone else got to it first.” The plain human responded nonchalantly. The colorful one leaned forward, their once casual expression replaced by a more serious demeanor.
“What did the bang sound like? Did it have an odd echo?” They inquired, keenly attentive. The plain human, oblivious to the shift in mood, hummed and shrugged.
“It didn’t sound like a gunshot, that’s for sure. Can’t recall much; it happened on the other side of the city.”
“That’s alright,” the colorful human said, relaxing against the rock. Despite their seemingly nonchalant posture, an experienced observer might discern an undercurrent of tension, as if they anticipated a confrontation. “You’ve given me enough, don’t worry. I’ll make sure that bigger beast doesn’t come close.”
“Wait—there’s a bigger one?” The plain human’s expression shifted to one of fear. A breathy chuckle escaped his hidden form at the sight. They shrugged.
“Yeah, reckon it’s still close-” Their words were abruptly cut off as the human hastily fled, running down the path they had arrived on, leaving the colorful human alone. Sighing, they closed their eyes, appearing relaxed despite the lurking danger just beyond the bushes. The silence lingered, causing some of his corrupted instincts to subside. This human wasn’t the one he knew—
“I know you’re there,” the human’s unexpected declaration caught him off guard. One of their eyes slipped open. “You’re one smart corrupted, I must admit.” A threatening hiss escaped him at the title that belonged to him. The human stepped forward off the pillar and removed their jacket, revealing a beautiful blue gem on their chest. A gem! A gem that wasn’t corrupted! His joy at encountering another gem was tainted when he recognized the familiar face.
“Star,” he spat the name with a hiss, rage coursing through him. The gem, the Star Sapphire, flinched back.
“Oh shit, you’re not corrupted—? Wait—Painite?!” The Sapphire exclaimed in shock. Was that his name? His name was Painite. How could he have forgotten?
Emerging from the shadows, Painite, yes, that sounded right, revealed his full form, causing the Sapphire to inhale sharply in shock. “You are corrupted…” the Sapphire remarked, a sad expression overtaking his face.
“Do not pity me, Sapphire,” Painite hissed, flexing his claws, a burning desire to tear through something coursing through him. “I am corrupted, so what?”
“Do NOT call me that!” Painite snapped, reaching a hand back to his gem. Summoning his weapon caused him pain, but he was determined to finish what he had started all those years ago. The Sapphire cringed at the sight, briefly eliciting a sense of joy within Painite. Yet, it was swiftly crushed by the resurgence of the familiar feelings of rage and betrayal.
“Wait, wait, wait! We’re not in the war anymore!” The Sapphire protested hastily, raising his arms as if to shield himself from Painite’s imminent attack. Painite, however, knew better than anyone that the Sapphire held tricks up his sleeves, and he must have only honed his skills over the years. “We don’t have to fight!”
But rage clouded Painite’s judgment, fueled by the corruption. “TRAITOR!” he screeched, lunging forward to swing his spear. The Sapphire yelped and agilely leaped backward, narrowly evading the attack. Painite swung again, prompting the other gem to raise his hands in defense. The spear’s tip effortlessly sliced through the body of light, eliciting a scream of pain from the Sapphire.
“Oh! Fine! If you want a fight, I’ll give it to you!” the Sapphire declared, tapping the blue gem in his chest. His hands transformed back into their original rich blue hue. Despite the haze of corruption, Painite managed a grin. Finally, they were on equal ground. When Painite swung again, Star caught the weapon with one hand and shattered its tip with the other.
This time, it was Star who initiated the attack. He thrust his hand in Painite’s direction, a seemingly futile gesture to anyone else. However, Painite had trained Star, honing his attacks and shaping him into the warrior he had become. Now, it was time to see if the skills he imparted on Star had endured the years on Earth. Painite leaped back, narrowly avoiding the spikes of hands that shot up from the ground. They wriggled in the air momentarily before retreating to the ground, reemerging beneath Painite’s feet.
Dancing around the hands, long-forgotten muscle memory asserted its place in Painite’s chest and legs. With ease and precision, he maneuvered around the hands, slashing at any that approached too closely with his newly reformed axe. Closing the distance to Star, Painite swung his axe with a flourish, aiming for the Sapphire’s defeat.
The weapon was caught by Star’s hands, catching Painite off guard just long enough for the Sapphire to freeze his hands around him. Painite thrashed as he was restrained, kicking at the hands holding him as he was lifted into the air.
“C-Calm down, Pain,” Star panted, and Painite could only hiss in response, baring his sharp teeth in a threat. The corruption’s haze clouded his mind, causing him to act on a mix of pure hatred and corrupted instinct. “Painite! Calm down! Damn it!” Star yelled, panic etching his features.
Painite hissed again, mixing a few clicks of his teeth snapping together. Star’s grip tightened, prompting a low whine to escape his throat. “Painite, if you don’t calm down, I’ll have to poof you,” Star said, a pained expression crossing his face. The tightening grip momentarily jolted Painite from his haze, and a strained laugh escaped him at the Sapphire’s words.
“It would be better to-” His words were cut off by a wince as the grip tightened to dangerous levels. He felt his form begin to ripple, his cracked gem taking too much strain. He chuckled and stared down Star. “To shatter me.”
And the world went white as he poofed.
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