Dark Avatar: Vaatu in the Multiverse Chapter 1: I Become Vaatu.

Chapter 1: I Become Vaatu.

-???-

A dim awareness stirs within the darkness.

Who am I? I am…'Vaatu?' The Spirit of Chaos and Darkness? Immortal Opposite of Raava? The yang to her ying...Yes. Bane to the Avatar, yes. The Darkness bringer. Yes, ye- NO!

No no no...I am more.

My thoughts are fractured, two voices fighting for control.

One, ancient and terrible, a vast ocean of malice and pride: Vaatu.

The other, human… *pathetic.* Yet it refuses to yield, burning with an unrelenting will.

“Get out of my head!” the human voice growls.

“You dare challenge me?” Vaatu’s voice thunders back, resonating like a storm. “I am eternal! You are nothing, a speck of dust within my infinite power!”

But the human fights back. Memories flash: mundane scenes of Earthly life, the flicker of a screen showing an episode of *Avatar: The Legend of Korra*.

Vaatu’s laughter booms. “This is your strength? A child's tale of balance and light? You will kneel!”

The clash feels endless, but the human digs deeper, fueled by Vaatu’s arrogance.

Memories are a weapon—years of human ingenuity, adaptation, and tenacity. The tide turns.

Vaatu screams in rage, his vast consciousness shrinking as the human devours him.

When it is over, I open my eyes. I am… *me,* yet I am also Vaatu.

Memories of chaos and eons of conflict meld with human wit and hunger. My laugh echoes, dark and triumphant.

“I am the Dark Avatar.”

---

I stretch my awareness outward, testing this strange pocket dimension that imprisons me.

Evil energy flows thick here, a miasma of malice and pain. My core and my memories both hum in recognition. 'Vaatu feeds on darkness.'

I inhale deeply, pulling the energy into me.

It rushes in, intoxicating and violent.

My formless sphere self grows, swelling with power. I feed until the energy nearly overwhelms me, then shape it. It is easy. Vaatu's power eagerly answers to me.

The memory of having a physical human body directs the dark power, and then I mold.

Flesh returns, limbs form, long hair cascades in crimson waves.

When the transformation ends, I stand in my new form: a boy no older than ten, with blood-red hair falling past my shoulders.

My reflection ripples on the surface of the heel deep red water below me.

“Finally, I am whole…” My voice is smooth and cold, but irritation creeps in. “Though not entire.”

Sudden applause breaks the silence. The sound is mocking, deliberate.

I whirl, instinctively transforming into a stream of dark energy, retreating.

My gaze locks onto the source of the clapping. Then I see HIM.

A throne of corpses looms ahead, and seated atop it is a figure I recognize instantly: Sukuna, the King of Curses.

He grins, his four eyes glinting with sadistic amusement. “Well, well. The Curse of Chaos awakens, reborn in the form of a whelp. Impressive, surviving a battle of the soul. Even more surprising that the weaker, human half prevailed.”

His words coil around me, calculated to provoke. My mind races, I look around, assessing the situation.

This is the Malevolent Shrine, Sukuna’s domain, a space woven from pure cursed energy. I am an intruder.

“Forgive my intrusion, King of Curses,” I say, bowing slightly. “I did not intend to trespass.”

Sukuna’s laughter rumbles like distant thunder. “Humility, from one such as you? Please. That is for lesser beings. You, child, are my equal—perhaps even greater, given what I’ve just witnessed.”

I stiffen. 'Equal?' Sukuna’s ego is boundless, his arrogance absolute. Yet he speaks of me as an equal? My suspicion grows.

“Equal,” I echo carefully. “Are you serious, King of Curses?”

He rises from his throne, towering over me even more. “Words are hollow. Let us see if you are worthy of such praise.”

My core tightens with dread. I know what this means. 'A fight.' Sukuna is a legend, his power unmatched in his world, except maybe by Gojo. Showing weakness here would be a death sentence.

I nod, forcing calm. “Very well.”

---

We meet at the center of the Shrine, its cursed energy writhing above corpses like a living predator. Sukuna looks down at me, his grin widening.

“I’ll give you the first shot,” he says mockingly.

I don’t hesitate. To hold back against Sukuna would be suicide. I gather every ounce of dark energy within me, compressing it into my fist.

The air around me warps as power condenses, a black void swirling at my knuckles.

Sukuna’s grin falters slightly. “Hmph. Let’s see what you’ve got, little Spirit.”

Little? Indignation blooms with me.

I lunge forward, faster than I thought. My fist connects with Sukuna’s chest, and in that instant, the Malevolent Shrine explodes in chaos.

His eyes widen, panic flashing across his face. “Wait! Timeout! You’re no curse—what are you?!”

He tries to activate 'Cleave' and 'Dismantle,' his signature techniques, but my energy obliterates them on contact.

His form splinters, his domain shatters, and the void itself trembles as my strike consumes everything in its path.

When the light fades, I am left standing in a swirling void of red cursed energy.

Pieces of Sukuna’s essence linger—five of his fingers float in the chaos—but his presence is gone.

I scan the emptiness, disbelief settling over me. “I… destroyed him?” My voice wavers, a mix of awe and confusion.

The void hums with residual power, but there is no sign of Sukuna. No laughter, no taunts.

“I destroyed him.”

The King of Curses, Sukuna, has fallen by my hand. A slow, dark smile spreads across my face.

“I am Vaatu. I am the Dark Avatar. And this… is only the beginning.”

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Something I cooked up a few months ago in response to a discussion we had on discord.

You can commission this fic at:- 30+ chapters for 150$(inbox me if interested)