Trigon Unleashed Chapter 5: Absorbing Sins and Negative Emotions.

Chapter 5: Absorbing Sins and Negative Emotions.

(Trigon’s POV)

With Super Strength, Super Speed and construct creation, my current repertoire of skills was enough for self defense.

But my progress left me curious if I could copy the other Eternal's powers. I didn't have much luck there. And not from a luck of trying.

Phastos tried to introduce me to cosmic technology, but something about my energy corrupted his machines.

When I touched his constructs, they sparked, twisted and warped, rebelling against my presence, as if my very existence defied the logic of their creation.

Next I asked Sersi about her powers, hoping she'd be open to teaching me her ability to reshape matter itself. Unlike with energy manipulation, she refused to show me.

"You already have enough power, Trigon," she said, looking at me as though she feared what I might do with her gift.

Druig didn't understand his ability enough to teach someone and Ajax said she was too busy for me. Ouch.

As for Ikaris, he refused outright. He never trained with me, never acknowledged me as family let alone, student.

But that didn’t stop me from watching whenever he decimated hordes of Deviants, flying around and shooting down energy beams from his eyes like Superman.

My energy manipulation was not good enough to master flight, but when I finally unlocked my own energy beams, they were stronger than his.

It infuriated him. A lot.

I enjoyed that.

A few years passed and I was now 17.

All in all, the whole experience made me stronger than you could imagine and also taught me something important.

Power was not just about destruction. It was not just about overwhelming force or the ability to crush those weaker than myself.

Power was control.

Control over the world around me.

Control over myself.

I had spent my childhood absorbing knowledge from the Eternals—studying their abilities, their strengths, and more importantly, their limitations.

I had watched their battles against the Deviants, had listened to their endless justifications for why they could not interfere in the affairs of mortals.

And through it all, something inside me had been stirring.

A hunger.

A force deeper than physical strength or celestial power, something primal lurking in the core of my being. It whispered to me in moments of stillness, a quiet voice urging me to seek more.

I ignored it for as long as I could.

Until I realized I had been listening all along.

It happened in what would come to be known as Persia. In a slightly developed town far from the Eternals' ship, a place untouched by the gods who claimed to watch over humanity.

The town was diseased.

Crime-ridden streets, men who took what they wanted, the stench of cruelty lingering in the air. The Eternals had come to investigate sightings of Deviants, but after finding nothing, we were preparing to leave after gathering a few resources.

They had Eternal bodies but still appreciated the taste of human food. The same humans they refused to help.

Their hypocrisy in mind, I wandered alone through the alleys, past desperate beggars, past men with blood on their hands, past children with emptiness in their eyes. And I felt it.

The weight of the Town's actions.

It clung to the air, like a fog thick enough to suffocate. And I reached out.

I didn’t mean to do it.

I didn’t even know I could.

But as I passed by a murderer ruffling through a stolen pouch—a man who had just taken a life—I felt something pull.

His guilt, his sin, his darkness—it was drawn into me, like a drowning man reaching for air.

I stopped and raised my human looking hand his way, having layered an illusion construct to appear like a normal man.

"Keep walking or die." The man noticed me and immediately flashed a rusty knife still covered in blood.

I clenched my fist, grabbed his sins and pulled.

Red inky smoke left his body and flowed into my hand. He staggered, falling to his knees, his eyes wide with terror.

And I felt stronger.

More alive.

It wasn’t just his pain. It was his crimes, the very essence of what he had done, as though I had peeled it from his soul and made it my own.

And when I looked down at my hands, I saw it—a faint, crimson glow pulsing beneath my skin.

It felt… intoxicating.

The murderer collapsed before me, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps, his body shaking as if he had been hollowed out from the inside.

His eyes were still open, but they were empty—drained of something vital, something that was now part of me.

The weight of his sins—his guilt, his violence, his bloodied past—was no longer his burden to bear.

It was mine.

I stared at him, unsure of what I had just done. My fingers tingled with unfamiliar sin energy, dark tendrils of crimson power around my skin before fading.

"You...are you going to kill again?"

In my response to my question, the man looked up at me with wide eyes.

"M-murder? I've never murdered anyone."

It seemed I had absorbed something beyond his emotion—beyond the mere feeling of guilt or regret. I had taken the very nature of his wrongdoings and consumed it as if it were sustenance.

And it felt… right.

For the first time, I felt whole.

Not just powerful, but purposeful.

I lifted my gaze toward the rest of the town. The crime-ridden streets stretched before me, a festering wound in humanity’s history.

Sin clung to the air, thick and suffocating. There was so much more to take.

But before I could test my newfound ability further, a voice cut through the silence.

"Trigon."

I turned to see Druig standing in the dim alleyway, arms crossed, his golden eyes sharp with suspicion.

"Whatever you just did," he said slowly, "I felt it. And it was… unnatural."

I tilted my head. "You don’t know what it was, yet you already fear it?"

Druig didn’t react to my taunt. Instead, he studied the man at my feet—the empty, trembling figure who still hadn't moved.

"You didn’t just scare him," Druig muttered, almost to himself. "You took something. Something important."

I folded my arms. "Is that a problem? You're gonna tell on me?"

Druig’s gaze snapped to mine. There was no hostility in his expression—just caution, and something deeper.

Understanding.

He knew exactly what I had done, even if he couldn’t explain it.

After a long silence, he sighed and shook his head. "I don’t care what you do to these people, Trigon. You think I weep for criminals?" His lips curled into a smirk. "I’m just warning you—whatever you're playing with, it’s dangerous. Even for you."

I smiled. "Duly noted."

Druig watched me for a moment longer before turning and walking away.

I let him go.

He wouldn’t stop me. None of them would.

Because none of them understood.

That night, I left the town, retreating to the wilderness to experiment with my newfound abilities.

If I could absorb sin, how much of it could I take on?

I began small, tracking down men whose actions reeked of darkness. Thieves, bandits, slavers, murderers—humanity’s lowest creatures. In such a lawless age, there were plenty.

Each time, the sensation was the same.

A pulling.

A deep, primal drain that left them weak and left me stronger.

Their guilt became my strength. Their cruelty, my power.

The wounds and diseases afflicting the slaves and other victims I rescued would disappear when I drained their pain and despair away. Their anguish was pure pleasure, filling me with adrenaline and a bliss that made my whole body shiver.

But there was something else.

A side effect I hadn’t anticipated.

Each time I absorbed sin, I glimpsed memories.

The first time it happened, I staggered back in shock. A rush of foreign thoughts flooded my mind—not my own, but the fragmented recollections of the man I had just drained. I saw flashes of his past, moments of his crimes, the faces of his victims.

The more I absorbed, the more I saw.

I realized then that I wasn’t just taking their darkness. I was consuming their stories, their regrets, their secrets. Parts of their souls

It was exhilarating and terrifying.

Because if I could do this to humans…

Could I do the same to Eternals?

The question burned in my mind.

Could I take from them?

Could I pull sin from creatures whose lives spanned millennia?

There was only one way to find out.

I waited for an opportunity. It came days later, when Gilgamesh sat alone by a river outside our encampment, sharpening his weapons. He was relaxed, unaware of my approach.

I stood behind him, focusing on the energy within me. I had never felt sin from the Eternals before—had never sensed the same negative emotions that plagued mortals.

But what if it was buried deeper?

I reached out.

The moment my power brushed against him, pain erupted through my skull.

I staggered back, clutching my head as an overwhelming force lashed out against me. It was like touching something ancient, something immovable.

And then I felt it.

Not sin. Not emotions.

But IRON CLAD DUTY. Like chains of undying loyalty bound his soul, leaving no room for doubt.

His memories trickled into me. Centuries of watching, of following Celestial decrees without question, of standing by as humanity suffered.

It was different from the sins of men.

It was colder.

More… controlled.

Gilgamesh’s eyes snapped open, and before I could withdraw completely, he grabbed my wrist in a crushing grip.

"What," he growled, "are you doing?"

I yanked my arm back, breathing heavily. The energy between us had already faded, but the echo of it still lingered.

Gilgamesh frowned, as if trying to shake off whatever he had felt. "That wasn’t normal, Trig."

I forced a smirk, calming my nerves. "Neither am I, Gil. Neither am I."

For a moment, it seemed like he would press further. But then, he exhaled, shaking his head. "Stay away from me with whatever that was."

I didn’t argue.

Not because I agreed.

But because now I knew.

I couldn’t take sin or negative emotions from the Eternals—not in the way I did from mortals.

But I could still take something.

Their memories. Their knowledge. Their hidden secrets.

And if I could learn to harness that, then not even the Celestials would be beyond my reach.

I had uncovered something greater than strength.

Something beyond the Eternals’ understanding of power.

Sin was more than just an abstract concept—it was tangible. Real. And I could wield it.

But now, I had to make a choice.

Do I use this power to free the Eternals from the Celestial's control?

Do I use it to shape the world?

For the first time in my life, I didn’t feel like a child playing among gods.

I felt like something else.

Something greater. Not an Eternal, not an evil interdimensional demon but a Savior.

The first coming of Jesus.