The method for killing a superhuman powerhouse remained painfully simple. Six hundred elite soldiers gathered at a shooting range. For several days they unleashed a firing squad, swapping murder shifts like patrols. All the while, Jonah reminisced on the life he lived. Death claimed his family, friends, and enemies alike. Slavic countries dubbed high rank mercenaries as "baba-yaga," meaning grim reaper by the most literal sense. Blessed by death itself Jonah's life persisted no matter the injury. Survival on the battlefield amounted to sheer luck and forgotten deities' protection. Even as Jonah's face lost all recognition, his wrathful guardian looked upon the man with pity.
Gods created through human intentions took the forms of myths, emotions, or fears. By unfortunate circumstance Jonah's guardian deity conceptualized in the first world war. Artillery, the modern fear of indiscriminate war and weapons of mass destruction. Born from the horrors of modern war, the new divine being grew strong when innocent lives fell, unconsciously absorbing their sadness. All the ire, loss, and grief caused by modern hot weapons congealed into one. Artillery gazed down upon Jonah whose blessing it granted. The unforgiving deity's original objective, to destroy the world in divine revenge, had long shifted to keeping one boy alive.
That same child pleaded on repeat in the back of his mind- 'please… let me die..' Forgotten memories from lives disguised behind numbers pleaded to save him. His mangled corpse of a mother clawed at her roof-forged coffin. His father shouted at the dark sky, flesh blackened as charcoal, throat collapsing on every word. His friends- the slaughtered children, innocent lives united as one wished for this man to claim a different fate. They lost their chance to live as humans. Perhaps the time had come, where revenge involved sweet release, instead of fire-filled anger.
Jonah gasped inside when death claimed his soul. One by one corpse after corpse called his name. The innocent girls he found tortured, and dead inside a mass burial. Deceased families, whose frail bodies failed to support roofs of their homes, as bombs pelted the ceiling. Drafted soldiers, bystanders, all people who deserved a true heaven- instead found the afterlife claimed by afflicted wounds. They called to him, one by one apologizing. "I'm sorry.." Each one explained without moving their mouths. Jonah's wide eyes barely comprehended the years he spent memorizing each one of their faces.
He too could not blink, trapped under the same blessing Artillery once supplied to him. The blessing of artillery stopped Jonah from dying at the cost of knowledge. All kinds of modern weaponry revealed their use upon Jonah's touch. Training boosted by his unnatural regeneration prompted superhuman strength. It kept him alive, at the cost for never turning a blind eye. The blessing strengthened itself based upon Jonah's commitment to learning. Memorized corpses became unforgettable strength. Each voice, mangled face, and innocent life agreed to an unspoken pact. "Take revenge on our behalf. Destroy this forsaken world. Show the wrongdoers our hell."
Instead they pleaded one by one- demanding he discard his exhausting journey. Despite their undying wounds each person supported Jonah's familiar struggle, told him their story, which he carried deep in his heart. In exchange for a deeper connection Jonah felt his soul struggle. Mortals by definition could not contain the will of a God. Young and immature, the hundred year old deity lacked such knowledge. Its power formed by vain cries for help supported Jonah with the last fiber of its being. Soon Jonah opened his eyes in the center of a medieval colosseum.
Several thousand college students poured magic power into chalk circles. Tan sandstone glowed white-hot when they summoned beasts of legend through a traditional ritual. Jonah sat uninjured above one such drawing. The summoner met Jonah's brown eyes in wide surprise. Other talented mages conjured creatures of myth, ranging from magic wielding unicorns to dragons. Excited murmurs roared across the stadium when a young man summoned the flying whale "Kyotar." It soared through the sky using magic, a low hum reverberating across the stadium as it sang. Compared to the magical creatures summoned by other students, Luna saw Jonah as a sign of her failure.
Her emotions pulsed from caster to summon- a stronger, more direct version of his blessing. Jonah long since understood his unnatural power. Lost regrets of the fallen requested unconsciously that he mend the present, either by violence or final message. It demanded results in exchange for more divine blessings. Self doubt haunted almost all corpses on the battlefield. 'Would I have lived if we ran? What's the point in my life? I should've listened to my father… Mom..' Echoed the lost memories of the past inside Jonah's mind. Luna's version of doubt carried a sense of innocence he found foreign. This young woman who summoned Jonah conveyed her emotions without a clear motive.
"Why.. are you afraid?" Wondered Jonah who understood her emotions. Unlike a philosopher who classified a person by their state of mind, Jonah grouped all types of anxiety beneath a blanket category of fear. Reading her memories Jonah gasped.
This foreign world lacked modern firearms. Luna's memories clearly portrayed a steam age society, whose magic advancements dwarfed the production of gunpowder. Citizens enjoyed modest lives as farmers or skilled workers. Her background as the bastard child of a duke's whim hardly compared to the morbid struggle contained within Jonah's power. He recognized fear as unstoppable death. Social struggles like family made Jonah confused. Why care about a father when your life is guaranteed? Jonah's blunt comment caused Luna to stagger back one step-
"What are you talking about?" Luna questioned her summoned beast in pure shock. Jonah furrowed his gaze, soft black pupils giving an expression between confusion and pity.
"You're my summoner." Jonah scoffed. "News to me too… Apparently, you should understand by instinct that a summoned creature can read its caster's emotions. These unspoken instructions have been ingrained upon my soul." Instinct redefined Jonah's existence before he realized. Unspoken rules were carved into his motives. Protection of the summoner came before his life. Shocking to Jonah she lacked any knowledge on the subject. Whatever S-rated mercenary Jonah came across on Earth dabbled with uncanny instincts just the same. Each one understood exactly what their forgotten deity wanted in return for its power.
"You're lying…" Demanded Luna who still clung onto the previous comment. "Unless permitted, summons follow all orders set by the caster..!" She stammered in denial. 'Does that mean he could hear my thoughts this whole time?' Luna worried as she stumbled backwards.
"You have nothing to fear. This world seems peaceful.. So, why care about results?" Jonah wondered in curiosity.