Conquista (3)

Unknown Location, Russia

"Do you understand your first duty, Grigori? Your first and perhaps only chance to really make something out of your miserable life?"

The cackling of that 'hag', the mystical power surging to him, the chance to break away from a dissatisfying life- Grigori Rasputin couldn't help but feel that all of this happened so suddenly and so 'wrongly'. It was odd, yet alluring. A year ago, the doubts weakened his resolve. Why wouldn't they? He had a good life despite its mediocrity. A wife, sons, he had been working on his impulses to steal objects and animals. Things were stabilizing for him, but then… she came forth. A pure force of nature, seductive and intriguing, indulging Rasputin in his inner questions. Questions he never brought up to a living soul. Not to his wife, not to his family, not to the church and God himself. It was her that knew the answers, he could tell from a glance. And with each truthful answer sinking deep in his soul, something felt cracking faster than it should have.

A man of simple morals, Grigori never looked at religion or the supernatural. Not because he was never interested in both, but because he found himself content with what he had. Until that woman appeared. Her beauty had done in a few minutes what many deceitful words from traditional fools failed to do in years. He was endeared by her beauty, and her knowledge. Her knowledge struck him out of the blue. How come such a gorgeous woman was living alone in the woods near home? That question should have had him pause for prudence's sake. But he didn't. The want had been stronger than the caution. He was yanked right where he needed to be, provided with the information he craved to get, and given a task that, albeit delivered reluctantly, was done willingly and without true hesitation.

Grigori Rasputin was a monster. The village that was chosen by the witch for him to raze was one owned mostly by people that could hardly survive on their own. A 'pity massacre', the witch called it, and while a better man would have opposed this hideous execution, this shameless effort to hide away a thirst from spilled blood, Grigori went forth with the task. Magic aided him, their dread further fueled him to delve deeper in his malicious intent and then… things went blank. He was 'unconscious', but lucid. So lucid. And he was rejoicing with the kind of atrocity he perpetrated. It was the first of many. His wife thought he had just found a new job that required him to be out of home a lot, yet the woman was already picking up something that was off about him. First his confidence, then his snappier behavior, and finally his disregard for his son. Slowly, steadily- Rasputin surrendered his common sense to madness, his morality for power. He was in too deep to give up and return to his normal life. And the witch knew, with her beauty 'fading' as soon as the realization sunk in and he knew who he was dealing with.

At times a hag, many times a helper but also a malicious force of the old ways, Baba Yaga was a treacherous being. Ever-knowing, ever-prepared, and never willing to give Rasputin the chance to break free. She willingly turned him into a puppet, one that was happy and yet disgusted. A paradoxical feeling that further fueled the bizarre feeling of craving for terror he had been interested on. Grigori was lost to his own darkness, and yet he didn't oppose it. It was his choice, his nature, his dangerous desires. He was condemned by his own existence to turn into a force of evil… and he loved every single moment of that interesting part of his new life. But where he found solace in the fact there was a sense of 'good' within what he did, he hardly complained of things. Except now.

This mission, this was unusual from the rest. The magic sphere used by Baba Yaga to show the faces of his victims and preys was now displaying three individuals at once. A man, his wife, and a child. They looked normal, but they weren't. Grigori's heart leaped as he could tell these three were different- and the boy. The son was special, important- dangerous. The witch had asked him for a rather simple task: capture the boy, but to not engage the parents. Sounded absurd as he had long learned how to masterfully slaughter people indirectly. His magic was not as powerful as the stronger sorceress, but the woman was forceful with that demand. He wouldn't get the chance to deal further damage beyond the one he was expected to deliver through that plan.

He knew where they were, the witch's magic turning him close to where the target's moving train was passing by. He was allowed to calmly walk through the cold forest without being bothered- in fact, he decided to use the undisturbed slumber of some 'friendly' creatures to aid him in this mission. He needed minions for this specific circumstance and he just knew how to strike his current prey. Creatures of old, reassembled for the occasions, growled and roared under his will as they used the trees to cover their presence. Grigori could feel them, and he could feel their hunger.

It wouldn't be wrong to provide food to these poor famished beings…

And now he just needed for his spells by the railway to fully crystalize the explosive nature of the magic he pumped into it. He may not be a powerful mage, but his spell was keen to work accordingly if he was careful enough. He patiently waited, meditating and praying to God for his soul's purification, for his day of salvation. Never a man of faith, Rasputin's belief came from despair. He begged for salvation because he knew nothing here had the means to truly save him from himself and his own malicious actions. And as he waited, as the train finally arrived and passed. An explosion ensued, a smile appeared on his face as he opened his eyes and… saw the train still running through the explosion, as if the railway hadn't been damage by the bomb.

How is that even possible?

Shaking his head, Rasputin decided to rely on Plan B and send in the newest pets he had created for the occasion. He could just tell that what had just happened was proof of what his mistress had said: this mission was arduous and more troublesome than usual.

But Grigori was a patient man and he was willing to gauge his prey's strength rather than play all his cards at once...

Something had struck the railway.

Everything was fine until a few seconds earlier as we proceeded to use the railway connecting Minsk to Vitebsk and Saint Petersburg, but then the train rocked and shook intensely. I wasn't sure what had happened, but someone had bombed the train's head and almost caused it to derail. I moved quickly, mustering ｢The World｣ in its greatest form for the dreadful occasion.

'｢The World: Absolute｣.'

Time stopped as I demanded, but I could also move fast through the wagons as I swiftly checked the extent of the issue. The bomb had detonated just in front of the train and the wagons were barely disjointed from the rest of the railway. The damage was impressive as the wood had shattered and the iron had bent in an unpleasant way. Huffing, I could tell there were two possible outcomes out of this: I either used some hamon-reinforced bubbles to pillow the train to a full halt without causing any accidents, risking to do the bidding of whoever caused this issue as it was clearly caused by someone that wanted the train to stop (bandits or worse), or I tried something I had just theorized about and never tested.

I put ｢The World: Absolute｣'s powers to the ultimate challenge by stopping time for five long minutes. I moved quickly, eyes darting left and right as my Stand helped me fix the railway, slam away the flames, and then align the train's head back to the tracks. I did my best to move quickly and allow as few minutes to pass by as possible. Even with just five minutes and a lot of training put into this ability, I still struggled with it. Then again, it was meant to have a catch to it and limit my scope of action within the state of things. Not like I had anything against these kinds of restrictions. The last thing I needed was to not have a filter in a circumstance where I was literally trying to rely on my own personal skills and not use my combat abilities to wedge my reach into newer realms of businesses.

Beyond that odd circumstance, I managed to get back in my seat, my face sporting a tired look as I plopped down on my place right beside Hannah as she was busy holding close to Giorno. The woman had moved quickly to keep our baby boy safe, and I was glad her reflexes were as quick as mine nowadays. Time soon resumed, and after some more shaking, the train's smooth pace resumed. I was relieved I had done everything I needed to do right, but my intervention wasn't lost to an individual that could tell something had happened in the blink of an eye.

"What happened?" Hannah questioned in my direction, knowing I had done something from the strained look on my face.

I didn't even hesitate in being honest. I saw no reason in lying about it despite how awkward of a lecture I was asking to get through that truthfulness. "Someone tried to bomb the train. I managed to get it all fixed by stopping time and-"

"Dio, we agreed to not test new things out in dangerous situations," The woman interrupted strongly, her eyes narrowing in worry. "It would be best if you rested for a moment."

That sounded great, and I saw no reason to say no. Except when numerous creatures soon howled from the forest on the side of the path taken by the train. Glowing eyes burned brightly through the foliage as multiple beings rushed forth from the forest. A quick Hamon pulse that was matched by Hannah provided us both with a single answer to what was going on.

"Undead," I muttered, my palms tightly forming fists as Hamon erupted from my body.

Still, it wasn't just mere zombies. Their frames were more animal-like and with scary non-human skulls rather than normal heads. Wendigos, or whatever those things were called within the area, were trying to board the train. Their speed was impressive, but their mind lacked knowledge on how to not get fried by Hamon itself as they started to flock at the train, only to get zapped into a quick treatment of the Ripple. The beasts just couldn't help but still go forth, almost mindlessly so, as they ignored the death they were rushing onto.

Hamon crackled all over the train as Hannah and I summoned as much energy as we could to protect the train from the approaching creatures. The monsters roared, trying to get inside the wagons, but failing to do more than just frighten the guests and cause a few terrifying screeches before their bodies were shattered by the zapping energy of purification. To their credit, the driver of the train didn't stop for a moment, actually increasing the pace of the train to outpace the horde of horrible creatures trying to board the train itself.

Eventually we got quickly out of trouble and we managed to elude the large contingent of monsters. The arrival in the city of Minsk was a turbulent one. Other passengers jumped off fast out of the train, the local garrison was warned of the situation and there was indeed a situation where the army detachment was deployed to handle a small invasion of these very creatures, the sheer amount of firepower proving to be enough to smash into the monsters. Differently from normal zombies, these Wendigos seemed to lack the same healing factor as their 'simpler' counterparts.

I was glad we managed to spare Giorno from that experience, but the boy was aware something big had happened, and that we were holding it away from him. It was something we had decided long ago, to keep him away from anything that could potentially cause him any trauma. One thing was mermaids, another was undead creatures that sought to devour and kill anything in front of them. So, due to these circumstances, I decided it was best to switch things up and actually take an armored train by using the invitation of the Prime Minister as an excuse to travel in a more protected environment. Captain Kuklin was a bit skeptical of this, but after hearing what happened with the attack on the civilian train, he was willing to allow us in at the condition we were not to distract the troops in the train during training and real action if necessary.

I was glad that this turned out positively, but I could tell this was just the beginning of something very bad…

AN

And the first of many mini-foes and big bosses appears. Dio faces Slavic supernatural… and the family takes part in that business too as you will soon see.

Omake 46: You made it, Mr. Vice

It's been six years since that adventure, and yet Bloody couldn't just forget it.

The year that shaped his life into what would become his core to success. From a young teen to a young man, from his traumatic bindings to his truest form of patriotic freedom. Dio didn't exactly drive him into embracing the need to Manifest Destiny, but it became apparent it was necessary. Just not for the wrong reasons. What does Manifesting Destiny mean to someone like Bloody Valentine? One of his own speeches managed to summarize his feelings on the matter just perfectly, and got quite the popular support during the campaign through it.

"Manifesting Destiny should be our reason to be, not our reason to expand. Our chance to be strong from within, not by weakening those around us. Tell me, good people of this most unique union, how many of you think that we really need to do more for… what? Our interests? America's interests should be to provide a roof to those that don't have a home, a warm soup to those that are hungry, free water to those that are thirsty for that is a right to life and no one should deprive this from us," He said with such a resolute voice. "This, my good people, is how we wish to change things. To be able to manifest a Destiny born from the American Dream- the Founders' dream when they thought of the future of this most glorious country, for its people are its soul."

Nine months of campaigning were troublesome to handle, but after just two Bloody had conquered the ideal schedule and managed to help the candidate he was the running mate of. Teddy Roosevelt had changed a bit. One that listened to his speeches could hardly notice- no, the real differences happened within his household. Less smoking, more political-planning and… drinking wine from time to time. The bespectacled man wasn't fond of wine itself, but he appreciated the company of his vice-president. Bloody, as he would openly say, was something like a little brother. One suggested 'son' would have been a better term for that relationship, but Theodore refused on a sole matter: Bloody was his first child's godfather, and somewhat of an uncle to her.

One wouldn't be surprised to see Bloody walk around, ignoring the tiny girl chasing after him like a little duckling. Alice Roosevelt was a bit of an odd individual, with her mother always keen to scold the child for embarking on 'adventures' in finding out what her uncle was doing. Despite the oddity of the situation, the presidential candidate was more than happy to let that happen, mostly because he owed Bloody much due to his intervention during little Alice's delivery but also in stabilizing his wife when she was close to perish due to kidney's failure. With a debt to repay, Bloody asked for one thing.

"Let me run when I'm old enough. Let me try."

And Theodore was more than happy to allow him to do so, even receiving support from the previous Vice-President due to his advancing age limiting his capacity in the role. Bloody was put on the ticket in 1890, voted unanimously as a good replacement for his predecessor and put through the gauntlet of the Midterm elections of that year.

Bloody felt ecstatic at that point, even before the true election unfolded, and that's where he felt the sense of duty from six years ago shine brighter than before. Up to that point he had listened, watched, studied and then plotted the best course of action, even scoring himself some favors through some advice he sent around to the various candidates to the senate and governorships of various states, becoming a relevant factor for the victory of the National Progressive Party in 1888. With that much support from the party under his belt, the rest was convincing the people that his age would be irrelevant due to experience and skill. It was a tough and prolonged fight, but Bloody emerged victorious. The votes ended, with the NPP scoring a solid majority that exceeded the one of the 1890 Elections. It was a signal, one that further cemented his entry in politics in such a high office. He was elected, yes, but now it was time to wait for the inauguration by the beginning of the next year. People were happy, everyone was delighted and… yet something was missing.

It was mostly unimportant to him, but there was one last thing he would have wanted through that election, and that one thing was someone he wanted to speak to. Someone that he knew was going to give him praise… by the letters. That was what Bloody expected. What he didn't expect was for Dio to come and prepare a surprise for him. He had been invited to spend Thanksgiving Day with the Roosevelt family. Little Alice was squeaking and demanding, as the little 'tyrannical lady' of the house, to have him around and he saw no reason to miss the chance to tease the endearing child. All was set for a lovely day… which became more when he realized that Theodore had invited another family inside. He was mostly confused by the extra noise, but even more when one of the figures turned as he entered the house and greeted him.

"D-Dio?"

The world went still just for a second and the older blond smiled. "Bloody. Good to see you."

He couldn't believe it. If before the feeling of victory hadn't sunk in his mind, now it did. Even more when he found himself pulled in a hug. Things had changed. He was taller, he was older, he shouldn't be getting emotional like that. Theodore was going to poke fun at this for years to come if he saw the tears already forming.

"You made it, Mr. Vice."

"Y-Yes."

It felt so great. This- this was the taste of true victory? It was so sweet and glorious!

As the embrace ended, Bloody's attention was moved elsewhere as his gaze matched the violet eyes of a little boy leaning close to Dio.

"Dad, is this uncle Bloody?" The child quietly asked, a hint of curiosity and surprise filtering through his lips.

Dio nodded. "Yes."

...Dio had a child? Now that he looked a bit behind them, Bloody saw a familiar woman helping Theodore's wife with the table- it was Dio's wife. It was the whole family and-

"Uncle Bloody. I'm Giorno. Dad told me that you wewe amazing and that you became vice… vice-pwesident!"

A smile appeared once more on Bloody's face. "That sounds about right, little Giorno."

"See! I told you that Uncle Bloody is cool, Gio," Alice exclaimed, appearing beside Giorno. "Now, let's go back. I was beating you with my toy soldiers."

"W-What? That's not twue."

"Yeah it is!"

This Thanksgiving Day is just going to get better…