Perhaps it had begun long ago.
From the moment he began displaying his Curse Removal ability, he seemed to have started writing the course of his own future.
They gathered around him, each for their own hopes, becoming members of his great family either willingly or otherwise. And it seemed that only his presence could make one proud god after another, despite their opposing sides and countless conflicts, willingly stand beside him and watch over the light in his eyes.
As though he were the only being who could still smile in Hell.
And at least in that moment.
That family, destined to embark on the journey home, seemed to have shown this Hell their future for the very first time.
They had sharp fangs.
Yet they also held flower buds.
They gazed fearlessly at that sky.
Above the dense black mist, beneath those seemingly eternal colors of chaos, the Clown still stood on his shoulder. He quietly looked down, his gaze seeming to pierce the endless black mist and meet those smiling eyes.
"So, we do nothing?"
The Clown licked the corner of his mouth as he looked down at the city.
"He really is starting to resemble that one more and more... It's hard not to be frightened. You want to hasten his revival, yet you inevitably push him onto the opposing side. If one day they really do rally all the Origins to challenge this Hell together, where will that leave you? You're... you're..."
The Pighead Butcher calmly looked down at the black mist and said:
"There is no right or wrong, only results."
"Maintain the balance of this mechanism, forbid any Old God from stepping outside, and let him grow and revive within this Hell. Those are the master's orders. They cannot be broken, not for