'Who is Valentin Laurent?'

Such a corny existential question to ask himself, but it was a necessary one.

As for the answer…

Simple. Complicated.

His dad's disappearance ruined his childhood, and his innocence was robbed before it could even be defined. He'd grown up in a brothel surrounded by sex inside, violence outside. He learned what the words "victim" and "perpetrator" meant without needing to learn the words victim and perpetrator. It was this situation and the environment around him that made him mature much faster than others.

But proportionally to the rapid speed at which he matured, he grew distant from the world.

He saw those his own age or younger as unwitting to the true suffering the world had to offer, and those older as the cause of the suffering. Trusting no one and allowing none to enter his space except those he considered his 'mothers', who'd been there before his demented worldview had taken shape.

Of course, Fleur had made him realize his error in thinking.

She'd helped him realize the innocence and beauty hidden by the depravity. But losing her, he once again saw how depravity consumed innocence.

Well, less 'saw' more 'exemplified.'

It was Vale himself who, when finally close to finding his innocence, became depraved.

However, he didn't take it out on others, unlike most examples in his life. He took it out on himself.

Not physically, but mentally.

He hated what he said, what he did, who he looked at, who looked at him, how he looked, how he breathed. He wasn't deserving of even pity, and god knows he wasn't deserving of sympathy. And to the fools who could empathize with him, he wished them peaceful deaths.

'Wow…'

Vale became disparaged the more he thought about what his mental state had been like just moments before he'd been summoned.

He'd only fallen since Fleur's death.

'Ah…'

He was beginning to see the truth of himself that he wished he hadn't, but he couldn't look away now…

He was beginning to see why he was chosen as the Master of Lust.

Daily life for him had become monotonous. Even a month after his twentieth birthday, he hadn't moved on from Fleur's death a year and a half prior. He'd eat just what he needed to survive and used his pretty face to make money and find good beds. But it was now, reflecting on his past self, that Vale could realize Valentin was already dead – not literally, but figuratively, of course – and not so much as dead as never truly existed.

His journey of self-discovery and self-reflection had never happened back on Terra. He'd never defined himself.

How can something undefined lose meaning?

Valentin Laurent was merely an amalgamation of broken and bruised ideals — a pitiful concoction made by a witch of a world.

Valentin was already dead because he was never completed.

Vale couldn't help but question…

Why did he want to keep something he didn't have? Something that never truly existed? Why was he so dead set on preserving a shattered mind?

It was hard to do now that Lust began to derange this thought process, but when comparing his current state to his past… was he not healthier?

He actually had things he cared about now, and things he hated more than himself; hell, he loved himself at times! There were events that he dared not let pass. There were things… people he didn't want to lose.

Sure, his mind was a bit wicked and deplorable, and he may have committed some atrocities, but what was truly deplorable was that Vale failed to realize:

'Why I became the Master of Lust…'

He understood it now… If his theory of Lust being an entity were correct, at least. Hell, even if it wasn't. He wasn't picked because he was to become the Master of Lust, but so that…

Lust, either the being or concept, could take him over…

'That deadly sin…'

It was preying on the weak…

It wanted a blank slate.

A broken mind it could stitch together however it wanted.

'Damned bastard.'

Before, he reasoned that he was chosen because he was scared to be passionate, but wished to be passionate. But, no. Even if that statement was true, it was much more one-dimensional than that…

He was made the Master of Lust simply because he'd lost passion and desire.

While deep down he couldn't say he didn't yearn for experiencing passion again, he could definitely admit to giving up in his quest, resigning to his lonely fate.

And in his resignation, Lust found the perfect victim….

But that deadly sin made one costly mistake.

Valentin Laurent was a tough bastard with a deceptive, spiteful will. Sure, he hated the world, but because he hated the world, he refused to yield to it.

'Maybe that was the one good thing I inherited from dad…'

Spite…

Sure, Lust was trying to take over his mind, but it had also given him the tools needed to overcome it.

'That dumbass…'

Whoever… whatever it was had made the wrong selection and even inadvertently saved him.

From himself, that is…

Because of Lust, his own broken, weak worldview was shattered and became unrecognizable. Lust was just the suture he needed to sew it back together, while removing the less desirable aspects of self-loathing — once Lust had thrown out most of the clutter in his mind holding him back, he'd been freed from the chains of depression.

With his newfound will…

Vale was going to conquer his mind and make Lust his tool, not the other way around.

The only question remaining was:

'How?'

His interpretation of Rudimentary Shapeshifting was obviously the key… but what could it unlock?

'Myself…'

That was what most needed a definition.

'Who is Valentin Laurent?'

Not the Valentin whose will was once trampled, but the one who marched with purpose.

Who was he right now?

Vale threw out the fallacy that something in his mind was controlling his actions. Despite his theory of Lust, he was still himself. He chose what he did; at most, he was merely being influenced in his actions.

When looking at it that way…

'I'm a depraved motherfucker with morals. I like sex and the pleasure it brings, but I also try to be grounded in what's acceptable and responsible. I don't particularly love Salome and the others, but I don't think I can stand to lose them.'

'I definitely don't think it's love I'm after.'

'But I don't think love is the evil rust it's described as.'

'I do have a scathing fear of loss, but I already lost what I wished to protect. And because of that, I'm doing a pretty shitty job of preserving the feelings that should be preserved.'

'I'm scared of reality…'

'The unadulterated version.'

'I'm scared of the truth…'

'I'm scared that… that…'

'I'm scared I have to let Fleur go…'

Vale was still in love with the idea of her.

He'd never forget her. Nor would he ever hate her. But…

'I have to stop chasing her ghost…'

That didn't mean he had to stop loving her, but he had to stop only loving her and only thinking of her. Something he'd actually been unknowingly accomplishing recently, with his mind being focused on the war, sex, and surviving in general.

Another unseen gift from Lust.

Still…

'I've been so caught up in fear of the past that I failed to see the beauty of living in the moment. In fact… after my mishaps with Awilix, I began to fear the moments…'

It became clear.

'I thought I've been on a journey of discovering passion, but I've been on a journey of discovering what it isn't…'

Vale had come to realize the first step in the pursuit of passion was recognizing the failure of passion. He'd finally understood what Salome said when she said passion was both beautiful and vile…

He'd been made aware that the concepts of depravity and innocence were intermingled and superimposed upon one another, not opposites.

Innocence was born of depravity.

Depravity was born of innocence.

Meaning, in Vale's depravity, there was the root of innocence he'd been chasing after his whole life.

That root was desire.

Giving in to his carnal desires and embracing them is what would ultimately give rise to what Vale 'wants'.

Wants he didn't know he wanted. They existed somewhere within his soul, begging to be noticed.

A want was the definition of character — desires that defined the undefined, giving rise to innocence and depravity — and Vale had once been bereft of them.

It was in the realization of those wants that a person could become self-aware and gain an identity.

So…

'What do I want?'

He wanted to help Salome in her revenge. He wanted to be treated as an equal. He wanted to have sex. He wanted to feel the thrill of battle and the rush of endorphins it brought. He wanted to explore this foreign world. He wanted to see the depths of his desire. He wanted to get stronger. He wanted to have innocent fun. He wanted passion. He wanted connection. He wanted to be seen. He wanted to keep his Legion happy; his Champions happy. He wanted purpose. He didn't want to lose what he cherished. He wanted to know what happened to the Lusts before him; the world before he arrived. He wanted to know how the other Vices have fared. He wanted to know the meaning of Sloth's prophecy and, in general, why this was all happening: why he was transported here and what the corruption was. He wanted to know what Lust and Origin actually were. He wanted to learn to swim. He wanted to succeed. He wanted—

He simply… wanted.

Vale didn't know what his wants meant altogether, but unbeknownst to him, the attempt at self-definition was the very definition itself.

Yes, Valentin Laurent was being defined.

He'd taken the first step toward conquering Lust and resisting its vile clutches.

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