94 Dream 1

"Life is a dream for the wise, a game for the fool, a comedy for the rich, a tragedy for the poor."

-Sholom Aleichem

********

My appreciation for my shadowy opponent's move lasted less than an instant.

Time for damage control.

"Keep Enhangwen up," I told Artoria. She judged the moment's seriousness by my face because she nodded and didn't question me.

Melina sent me a look, and I signalled her with my eyes that we'd talk in a moment as I pulled out my phone.

I rarely had to call anyone, the joys of teleporting and telepathy, but I did have a few numbers saved.

He answered before the first ring ended.

"Elden Lord."

"How much of that did you get?" I asked Batman.

"All of it."

Then, apart from his obvious communication device with Superman, there were probably a few less obvious cameras on some of the other heroes.

"Are you getting anything from their end?"

"No. And our psychic lost contact as well." So Xavier couldn't reach his students.

"I am going to assess the situation," I said, not bothering with any other questions. "Deal with the PRT and any other heroes. I will be back."

It said something about the magnitude of the situation that I didn't even do my Schwarzenegger impression when I said those last words.

"Danger?"

"Potentially apocalyptic."

"I want all the information."

"If we're lucky, I'll give it over drinks," I tried to laugh. "After we get Supes back, of course."

It came out somewhat forced. 

"If not?"

"... Deal with your end," I said instead of answering. "If anyone gets in my way, I will crush them. You will thank me for it."

"... Good luck."

He hung up.

'Give me an image.'

Emma complied, and the entrance to Sinister's pocket world appeared in my head.

"We're leaving," I told Artoria and Melina, holding out my hands to them. They each grabbed one.

"What of the heroes?" Artoria asked. Her face was set into the severe frown she got when worried or displeased. Some of them had been her friends, or at least on friendly terms with her during her time as a Superhero.

"A secondary priority," I answered.

I felt terrible, I really did, but if all that happened today was the death of everyone who had been in this Hall except for us, the entire planet would have gotten off easy.

If Sinister was really releasing Beast Blood to the world...

I didn't bother to think about it as the Noble Phantasm faded around us, and I teleported us away.

We reappeared in an alleyway somewhere in South America, and Emma greeted us, standing over the unconscious bodies of Madelyne Pryor and Mystique.

"The others are still cleaning out the facility," the White Queen said immediately, knowing my mood. "It's a mess. And huge. We have the child, and Ranni is keeping Sinister occupied. He is... you will need to see for yourself."

"Artoria," I ordered. "Bring these two to the Island and place them in cells. The comfortable ones, at least for now, but I don't want them to be able to leave their rooms. Melina, here's my phone. Get Valeria on the line and see if she has something that will pull data from this place, like the device we used the other day, but stronger. I want every scrap of data. If Sinister wiped his ass with his left hand, I want to know about it."

Artoria was already slinging the woman over her shoulders as Melina wrinkled her nose in disgust at the mental image. Before they left, the host of the Phoenix Force looked at me and asked the question I didn't want to answer.

At least not now.

"What is going on?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly.

I had no idea how Sinister had gotten a hold of Maneating Boars, how long he had them, what he had been doing with them, or if the medicine Superman had mentioned, 'Sanguine,' was what I feared it was. 

I could be overacting. Emma could be wrong. The scale could be much lower than I feared.

I hoped I was wrong. I couldn't pray to anyone but myself, but pray I did that this was just another bout of paranoia.

Because if it wasn't, if things were really as bad as I expected, I had doomed this entire universe. If I wanted to save it, I'd have to...

"I will explain everything when I have all the information," I said instead of giving empty words.

That seemed to mollify them for the moment as Artoria stepped through the pale white portal to the Island with our prisoners, and Melina pulled up my phone to call my pint-sized mad scientist.

"Will you?" Emma asked.

While every one of the original ten women had been summoned to Bloodborne at least once and seen a hint of that terrible place, only Emma knew the full extent of what I had done.

What had needed to be done.

"I am not ashamed of what happened," I answered grimly. "I never pretended to be a hero. I am just me."

We entered Sinister's lab together, and I was assaulted by the familiar smell of blood.

The entrance was clean and sterile, as I would expect of a scientific lab.

Before anything else, I took my wife's hand in mine, Freeing her mind from its limits.

Emma didn't need me to say anything as she immediately bypassed all mental defences and shut down anyone with a hint of a mind. Human, monster, animal, it didn't matter. With nothing able to stop her, Emma Frost killed every living thing in this pocket world with even a hint of thought.

No. Not everything. 

We needed answers, and I trusted her to help me get them. I could not force the truth from the dead.

The living, however...

It took less than ten seconds of walking for the sterile white walls to disappear under the brown and red of blood and death.

My Family had torn through this place like a meat grinder. Bodies littered the floor. Blood dripped from walls and ceilings. Grooves from blades, fists, and spells were more common than lightbulbs.

A charnel house of blood and death.

A grim reminder that even my most heroic wives were still warriors well acquainted with death.

I could understand their brutality. While Diana would go to great lengths to keep civilians safe, she wasn't the type to hold back on foes. Combine it with the fact that these weren't living people but clone soldiers bred for war, mutated almost beyond recognition, and there was little reason for her or the rest of the Family to hold back.

Bodies were pierced into walls by spears.

Bodies bent cruelly as their bones were contorted in unnatural directions.

Bodies burned, crushed, frozen, stabbed, and all manner of other methods of death.

Hundreds of corpses, possibly thousands, lined these halls. Sinister had an army here, all made up of clones of the same two dozen or so mutants. I recognized a good chunk of them, Marauders of various iterations of comics.

It was not the death that disturbed me. I had seen and done far worse in my day.

It was the bodies themselves.

A clone of Harpoon with cloven hooves.

A clone of Blockbuster that was bloated like a sickly pig.

A clone of Riptide with snakes for limbs.

Scalphunter with a bulging red belly.

An unfamiliar mutant without a head, just a brain on a stem. Its half-dozen eyes of various sizes stared blankly at the ceiling.

Another Riptide, this one with normal limbs but with a beard of tentacles, still writhing, even in death.

The top half of Scrambler, with sickly black crow wings and blank white eyes.

A woman I didn't recognize looked almost human, except for the extra arms, legs, breasts, and heads.

Vertigo hung from the ceiling, clawed arms dangling lifelessly as her blood dripped from her slit neck. Her only abnormality was that she was twice the size of an average person.

A version of Mystique without the collar was embedded in a wall. One would expect the vertically slit chest to be her cause of death, but I knew the truth. I saw the fangs along the 'wound' and knew this monster was closer to a DND mimic by way of Lovecraft than any humanoid.

The fourth and seventeenth Scrambler corpses both had hunched back and lupine features.

I counted seven versions of the unknown woman that had grown a bulbous insect head.

That was nothing compared to the sheer number of Ooze's that littered the halls. I only knew they had initially been versions of Mystique because of the coloration and the texture of their 'skin.' Her biology must have been particularly conducive to Sinister's experiments.

Walking hand in hand, Emma and I wandered through this alien yet too familiar scene.

The robots, the guns, and the futuristic labs were all new to me.

The carnage was not.

It was like an old nightmare, one you tried to forget but always tugged at the edge of your senses.

The gore, the smell, the viscera, it all called back to dark alleys under a paleblood moon. 

It called back to a city consumed by a plague, where roving gangs of mad men prowled the streets, drunk on the blood of monsters and innocents alike.

The flickering light of damaged screens reminded me of bonfires and boiling flesh and fur.

The narrow corridors were no longer the white and silver of metal but the brown of dirt and grey of stone.

I wasn't in the tight confines of an isolated world created by a mad geneticist with delusions of power.

I was in Chalice Dungeons, killing everything that lives as I made my way deeper, deeper, deeper, deeper. I was drowning in blood. I was pressed down by the floors I collapsed above me. 

I was trapped by my own hand. I had destroyed every Lantern above ground, cutting off the Hunter's Dream as much as possible.

With every step I took, I dug deeper into my own tomb. This was going to be my grave. My greatest work. My worst sin. 

The remains of Pthumeril, Isz, Loran and the Hintertombs. These remnants of once-great civilizations would be my mausoleum. Every monster would be my grave companion. Every drop of blood I spilled as I delved deeper was but another log on my pyre.

I was finally going to die. 

Not to the blood and beast and plague and death but to Her. To one I loved. Was forced to love. To the one I had trusted and who had betrayed me.

I had died countless, countless times in more ways than I could remember. I had felt torture the likes of which no god could stand, and no man could survive, but this would be the last.

The true death. 

The final death. 

The death of self.

The End of 'Me.'

I was... so tired.

Emma squeezed my hand.

I blinked.

When had we stopped? When had Emma turned her hand to diamond?

When had I become trapped again?

She looked at me, not saying a word.

Emma, my wife, traitor, and saviour. The woman who had seen everything I had ever done, the heroic and monstrous. Who understood me as well as Melina but knew me better and didn't judge me for it.

Emma, who loved me.

Emma, who I loved.

"Thanks," I said softly, placing my empty hand on hers and pulling Emma in for a small, chaste kiss.

We resumed walking as I reminded myself that I was Free.

This was not the Cell.

This was not the Kiln.

This was not Yarnham.

This was my happy ending.

I was Me. I was Free. I was Alive.

We started walking again, no longer rushing with hurried steps.

Speed wouldn't help me here if I lost myself.

"It is my own home's affliction," I sang, my voice echoing through the bloody lab. "Behind bars within a cage. I've been marked the plague's possession, and I've been locked in for days."

As always, the music helped me think. Kept me centred and sane. 

Emma didn't say anything, letting me think, vent, and plan while she did the work.

"There's a ruckus in the streets,

Those I begged to stay inside.

Soon the noise gives way to silence,

For a moonlit lullaby."

First off, I had to acknowledge reality.

The Beast Blood had gotten out. 

Some way, somehow, it had managed to leave my Island and make its way into the world. I thought I had been thorough and well prepared, no creature should be able to pass from the inside out without my explicit permission. Something had gone wrong for Maneater Boars to be outside my personal dimension.

Which made whatever happened next my fault.

"Oh my mind, oh my mind,

Thoughts are fleeting all the time.

I feel bones begin to splinter,

As my fever starts to climb."

Not wholly my fault, of course. I wasn't the nincompoop who decided to go to the deadly Island, take the massive pig with twenty eyes, extract its blood and sell it as snake oil medicine.

Nor was I the idiot using a shady medicine named 'Sanguine' of all things that, coincidentally, looked like blood.

But it was the unmistakable truth that none of this... this mess would have been possible if I hadn't allowed people onto my Island to get bodies to experiment on to regain human form. If I had kept it locked down completely, I am sure this wouldn't have happened.

"Who's to blame, who's to blame,

For the blood that wrought this shame?

Now my ears have started ringing,

To a symphony of pain."

I had thought I was thorough.

I had thought I had taken precautions.

I thought I had been careful enough, if not too paranoid.

I had thought wrong.

Whatever happened next, it would be my fault.

So what would happen next?

"My blood's contagion,

Brings transfor-"

I didn't have time to dwell on my thoughts or continue the chorus as I was interrupted.

"Hey!" Yoruichi greeted casually as she ran up beside us. "Things settled with the heroes?"

...Right. While Melina and Artoria had known how serious I was taking the situation, only Emma really knew how deep in shit we were.

I hadn't hidden what I had done in Bloodborne, per se. My Family knew what sort of game it was, had seen fractions of it when summoned, and I had answered their questions without shame.

But I also hadn't volunteered any information either.

As far as my other wives knew, Bloodborne was just another Fromsoft game where you killed monsters, died, re-spawned and did it all again. They knew that there was a blood-borne plague. It was in the name, after all, and it had something to do with my Avatar, my Great One status, and the nature of Insight and Frenzy.

As far as they were aware, the blood was dangerous, I was a cognito hazard, and that was it.

A profound sense of melancholy settled on me as I looked at Yoruichi.

I hoped that was all they needed to know, but if it wasn't, I would be the one to handle it.

I just hoped it wasn't necessary. I didn't want my image in their mind tarnished in such a way. 

How would Artoria look at me if she knew? Would Diana still trust me as much? Would Priscilla still call me Sir Bard?

None of my wives were delicate maidens. The carnage around me was proof enough of that. But...

"What is going on?" Yoruichi asked with narrowed eyes as she caught my expression. 

She looked to Emma, and her suspicion rose again. It was easy to forget how playful she tended to be, but Yoruichi had been the captain of a squad of assassins and spies.

"I'll explain everything at home," I answered, shaking my head. I looked at Emma. "Can you have Medea join us?"

Yoruichi's feline eyes watched me intently while Emma nodded. She really did make a great secretary.

"You dealt with all the clones, but there are portions of this place we haven't covered," Yoruichi eventually told me. Like Artoria and Melina, she trusted me to talk to them later. "Robots and the like."

"It doesn't matter," I said blandly. Medea appeared beside me in a swirl of her cloak. "Once I have Valeria strip this place of all its information, I am destroying this entire dimension."

"I was hoping to study it," Medea said playfully, but I shook my head.

"I'll find you a better one." 

First, fire and lightning to destroy even the tiniest drop of blood and render everything else down to ash. Then, I'd 'Free' it from its tether to Earth. Relatively easy to do when I knew where the doorway was. Finally, I'd poke my True Body in and cast my most powerful spell, a combination of Eternal Darkness, Collapsing Stars, and Gravity Well that I had simply named Singularity.

Magic Talent OP, plz, no nerf.

I'd regenerate the part of me that had to be in this reality to cast the spell after the black hole consumed it, and this pocket dimension would drift in the void between realities until it collapsed, completely empty and a death trap for anything that tried to enter it.

Despite the situation, the chance to actually use that stupidly impractical yet monumental spell was enough to put a smile on my face.

Sure, I needed to be careful not to accidentally kill myself with my own overpowered spell, and I couldn't really use it in a regular fight, but that just made it cooler.

And sure, I might have inadvertently aided in releasing an apocalyptic plague on Earth, but I also get to violate the laws of nature and physics.

Silver linings and all that.

"Ok," I said, slapping myself in the cheeks with both hands. My wives looked at me in confusion. Then, just to fuck with them, I also slapped my other cheeks. I've been told my ass is my best feature. Either that or my face. Supposedly, they were indistinguishable. "Ok, let's do this."

Emma rolled her eyes fondly while Yoruichi let out a cheer.

"Do what?" Medea asked with a smile.

"You are going to kill Sinister," I told her. "You said you had a curse that would target him and any clones he has in other places? How certain are you that it will get all of them?"

"Depending on his method of cloning, ninety percent or so," Medea said with pride. "Most 'clones' are the same person. Same soul, Origin, and Element, just fragmented over different bodies. It takes very unique circumstances for a clone to develop a unique soul and be considered a different 'person.'"

"I want you to be a hundred percent sure," I said seriously. "I don't just want this guy dead. I want him super mega ultra giga dead. So dead that his ancestors will die a second time. So dead that not even my jokes will make him deadpan." 

My severe facade cracked, and I grinned.

"He's a geneticist," Medea sniffed disdainfully. "Even if his clones have developed unique souls, they will still have the same DNA. I will be able to find them and kill them as well. It will simply take three spells instead of one. Do not worry, dear. He will not survive."

"Still angry about the baby-napping accusation?" Yoruichi grinned teasingly.

"Among other reasons," I chuckled.

"Through here," Emma nodded at a large doorway. I could hear the squeals of pigs beyond.

"Little pigs, little pigs, let me in," I sing-songed as I swaggered my way into a scene of bloody carnage.

Yes, we might be up shit creek without a paddle, but there was no reason to be a broody asshole.

If something was trying to fuck up my happy ending, I'd fuck them up first.

********

Nathaniel Essex let the energy dissipate from his hands as more intruders arrived in his main lab.

He recognized all of them, of course, but it seemed his opponent had the better reinforcements.

A shame that. Essex had such high hopes for his current batch of Marauders. He had used up his entire backlog of clones in the pits to develop the current group. As he had suspected, repeated bloodshed had sped up the development of mutations, it had left him with barely a thousand soldiers.

While it was a respectable force, it wasn't enough to stand up to the Elden Lord and his Consorts.

A shame. A real shame.

If Essex just had more time, he could have grown more clones, harvested more Blood, spread it farther, and pushed humanity's evolution along much faster.

Ah well. It was for just such occasions that redundant plans were made.

This body was going to die, no doubt. Teleportation had not worked since the first intruder had arrived, so escape was likely impossible as well.

An annoyance at best.

While this was Sinister main base, he had dozens hidden all over the world. Each contained samples so he could regrow anything he lost here, even if it would set him back slightly.

It was just a shame about Pryor and the infant. They had such potential.

With death, or at least destruction of this body, imminent and unavoidable, Nathaniel Essex ceased fighting and focused more on the most important thing.

Gathering information for use later.

There was one piece that stood out right away.

"Was the entire conference staged?" Essex asked, straitening himself and regrowing the severed arm. The few eyes he lost were inconsequential, but the mutant still regrew enough of them, so he had seventeen total. Essex liked even numbers. "I should have guessed as much. For a mutant such as Miss Frost to say such words so publicly was grossly out of character."

"You know her?" The Elden Lord said with a smile as he held up his hand, fingers interlocked with Emma Frost's. "I thought you were more interested in the Grey and Summer bloodlines."

"Of course I know her," Essex sniffed disdainfully, idly brushing an ear off his neck with a claw. "Those two simply possessed the greatest chance of providing the next step of evolution, the Mutant Messiah, if you will. But to create Scott Summers and Jean Grey, I had to carefully select from other bloodlines to breed true. Miss Frost's lineage has produced quite a few mutants of power with abilities leaning towards psionics. They were a viable candidate. Tell me, since when has she been aiding you? Did you recruit her as soon as you arrived on Earth? Before? After?"

"After," the Abomination said, his three mouths moving as one. "Tell you what, since you want to talk, let's talk. I like talking. I answer your questions. You answer mine."

"I suppose I am not in a position to negotiate," Nathaniel said, looking around the room. 

The blue woman, the self-proclaimed goddess, had withdrawn her puppets with her husband's arrival and was watching the pair with a blank expression. The dark-skinned Changer/Mover stalked around the room like a feline, slaying the experiments that still lived and struggled.

No matter, Sinister had other boars, including the original, in other locations. 

Of most interest, Frost did not do anything, keeping her eyes closed. The geneticist recognized a common sign of a psychic using their powers, though he had progressed beyond such tells a century ago. Since he could not feel her attempting to break into his mind, she must be aiming for those of the clones.

A waste of effort. Not only did they not hold any important information, but the Blood reinforced the mind of everyone who imbibed it. That Emma Frost was struggling so much with such feeble minds, even reinforced, might indicate that he had overestimated the power of her abilities. 

Something to note. 

Now that he had lost both Grey and Pryor, and the baby might have died in the commotion, he would need to find another psychic to breed with Scott. The combination of energy manipulation and psionic abilities remained the best choice for producing the next stage of evolution.

After they took in an appreciable amount of Blood, of course. 

Couldn't evolve without Blood. 

And doing it before the first impregnation would be preferable to not waste nine months. Essex had already tested the Blood and its effect on newborns. No need to do so again, and having a contrast between prenatal and postnatal injections of Blood would provide interesting data.

So caught up in his ideas for his future experiments, Essex almost missed the first of the Elden Lord's questions.

"How did you get these boars," the meat puppet asked.

"I cloned them," Essex answered immediately and with pride. "It was a bit tricky, but the Blood wants to spread. A fascinating discovery. Not alive, but self-propagating. That shall be my first question. What is the nature of this Blood?"

"A plague." The millions of eyes looked at Essex with amusement. If he didn't give proper information, neither would they. "What is your goal?"

"Evolution." Again, an easy answer. For the sake of gaining more information himself, Essex gave some more context this time. "The Blood facilitates the development of mutations, stimulating evolutionary development in a fraction of the time without it. With it, humanity shall ascend to the ultimate endpoint of evolution within this generation rather than the millennia I had initially projected. What is the optimal use for development with the aid of the Blood?"

"Absorbing blood through killing others in ever-increasing amounts and then having a representative of a Great One turn that blood into permanent power. Without the second step, the blood is just a plague that mutates those infected, strengthening and healing them but completely transitory and uncontrollable. What was the plan with framing me?"

Fascinating. Was that why the clones had mutated significantly while the Infant's Family remained humanoid?

Not that the mutations were a problem. They were worth studying all on their own. But it did present the problem of how Sinister would gain access to such a representative. Control was essential for science.

"I wished to retrieve my test subjects, and you were a convenient distraction. You have also invested considerable effort in remaining cordial with the heroes of Earth despite your position of strength. I hoped that should they put enough pressure on you, you would release the Phoenix Force to appease them. With enough Blood, Madelyn Pryor should be able to become a host, as she is a lesser clone of Grey, as you mentioned. I had not accounted for your knowledge of alternate versions of myself. An oversight. Is the Blood the greatest method of evolution you are aware of?"

"No. While it strengthens those infected in proportion to their blood intake, the side effects are too severe. Even should every lifeform in the universe be infected and then harvested by one being, it would still face the limits of physicality, of its body. Are you familiar with or employed by Sublime, Apocolypse, Darkseid, Nekron, the Entities known as Worms in this universe or any other being of significant power greater than your own?"

Disappointing but expected. The being before Sinister had already evolved, needing one final step to achieve perfection. It would make sense that It knew of better ways.

"All of those are unknown to me except Apocalypse. That is the name of a mutant I met over a century ago. While we initially worked together on the study of mutants and shared the ideal evolution. I recognized the use of humanity to introduce biodiversity to facilitate the development of genetic variables and allow for a wider pool of mutations to choose from. Apocalypse favoured the removal of humans and weaker mutants to ensure only the powerful could survive. A shortsighted belief. We parted long ago, and I have not heard from him since. What is the optimal path to power to reach the end of evolution?"

"There are an infinite number of paths to power. Genetics. Invention. Borrowing power from higher beings. Enlightenment. Magic. I can think of hundreds of thousands of ways for individuals to 'evolve.' None of them are easy. None of them ever end. The only end is Death. And only one path do I consider the best. To ever chase Freedom. Are you familiar with Parliaments of Earth such as the Parliament of Trees, of Flames, and of Metal?"

"I am not. What is the best way for a race to evolve as a whole rather than as an individual?"

"That is an impossibility, a catch twenty-two. Once a race evolves, they are no longer the same race, by definition. The only way for a race to evolve and still remain themselves is if they are a unified whole. A gestalt consciousness, a hive mind, or one being with multiple bodies that can evolve independent of the consciousness controlling them. To become such a race, the previous type of being must have evolved and changed to such a hive mind that calling them the previous race would be wrong. Individuals can evolve and change. Races can not do the same and continue as they were. What do you know of the beings that control the Endbringers?"

"Nothing. Endbringer biology has been inscrutable since their first appearance. Thanks to the Stranger, no samples were recovered before it was slain recently. I have not been able to study any recovered pieces since. A more detailed version of the question this time. What is the optimal path for the inhabitants of this Earth to evolve past the current limits?"

"I have no idea. There is no best answer for anything. Just better or worse, depending on differing metrics. Uploading consciousness into robots or computers would ensure longer lives but remove the biological desires that push people along. Continued breeding between aliens, mutants, humans, and other compatible species will ensure a wide variety of abilities, societies, and races but will almost guarantee conflict between them. The winner will not be the best, but the one left standing at the end. All growth comes at a cost. In lives. In happiness. In potential. There is no perfect path. Something as vague and random as evolution cannot be controlled. Life is chaos. Only when we look at things in hindsight do we make up plans that were never there. Can you still shapeshift?"

"I can. A useful mutation I gave myself thanks to a study of a woman in the nineteen twenties. If I wish to use Blood to push the inhabitants of this planet further down the evolutionary line, what is the optimal way to do it?"

"Cease thinking about evolution as an inherently desirable outcome. Evolution is the adaptation of species to their environment through the propagation of advantageous mutations in that environment. It does not make the species better or worse; it just makes it better suited to its current situation and facilitates the propagation of desirable traits. Situations change through internal or external factors. And even if an individual of a species has advantages mutations, which are largely random, it would be pointless if they do not propagate them. Finally, the more specialized the species, the less it is able to adapt. Continual evolution in the short term will ensure a species's destruction in the long term. Forced evolution is not a problem. Evolution for the sake of evolution is."

"You did not answer my question."

"Fine. The theoretically optimal way to use the blood plague to force the population's evolution would be to designate millions of quarantined zones, infect everyone with the blood, and have them fight. Within each zone, a handful of promising individuals with already favourable mutations or desirable characteristics should be allowed access to representatives of a Great One. This way, after these individuals have killed everything in their zones, all the blood will have accumulated within them but will still maintain a human form and mind to ensure they can breed with each other. The large number of quarantine zones is to account for failures and ensure a large enough population for genetic diversity in the end. This is all under the assumption that the use of the blood plague is the only factor. I repeat, this is not the way to do things. This is a Very Bad Idea (TM). Last question."

Sinister blinked his twenty-seven eyes in surprise. 

Why end things now? 

Despite his initial dismissal of the Elden Lord as a lizard with power, the Abomination before him was much wiser than Sinister had given him credit for. 

What had started as a simple method of trying to gain more information had evolved into a genuinely interesting exchange of ideas. 

While It might not be familiar with the exact science of genetics, It had a firm grasp of the theories of evolution. More than that, Its multiversal level of existence gave It a fascinating viewpoint.

And, to be honest, it was just nice to converse with someone as an intellectual equal who wasn't weighed down by morals, like most heroes, or a monumental ego, like most villains.

Had things been different, Mister Sinister and the Elden Lord might have worked together to push humanity into a golden age.

Oh, Sinister was defiantly going to find a way to kill and harvest the Elden Lord's genetic material and those of his 'wives.' They were too fascinating subjects to ignore and could teach him quite a bit. After all, he still needed to crack what made the Elden Lord's blood different from that of the Boar. And the 'Dragon Factor' was still undiscovered.

But maybe he'd clone It after he had cracked Its secrets. Just to have someone to talk to.

"If you can shapeshift, why do you look like that?"

"Look like what?" Sinister frowned, looking down at himself.

Sure, his clothes were in disarray and dirty, a result of the battle from earlier, but that couldn't be helped.

Sinister idly burst a pustule with a claw to ensure it hadn't blocked his view of something on his hooves.

No, everything seemed to be as it should.

"...Right," the eyes sighed. "You have everything, Emma?"

"Perfectly."

At some point, the rest of Its Family had arrived. They had remained silent, which Essex was thankful for, just watching the exchange between the two men. Their effort to surround the geneticist didn't matter. There was no way the Elden Lord would let this body live.

Thankfully, It didn't know about his clones.

Nathaniel was genuinely excited to get to work. So many new ideas from such a short conversation.

After a few months of laying low and running tests, he'd emerge and see how the world handled the changes he had wrought. That would give plenty of new data and samples Sinister could use for further tests.

The Blood was like the gift that kept on giving.

"Medea, can you deal with the piggy bastard? His stank is really starting to mess with me."

Nathanial Essex looked at the Abomination in a human suit as the floor started to glow.

"What smell do you speak of? I am a bit dirty because of the fight, but I am a scientist." It was the offence to professional pride more than anything that had Essex's thirteen eyes narrow in anger at the insult. "I keep myself perfectly clean while I work."

"And I am sure your lab adheres to the highest health standard," the Dragon/Great One/Man drawled sarcastically. 

Which also offended Sinister.

Nathanial Essex looked around the lab. The intruders had knocked over many of his instruments and machines, and the floor was littered with broken glass and metal. None of which were a result of Essex's dereliction. 

It was a shame about the death of so many of his test subjects, and their bodies did impede his view of the intruders a bit, but that was all.

Aside from that, it was pristine.

"Right... I don't know what I was expecting. I've wasted enough time on you. Anyway, Piglet, it's time to go the way of the Pooh. Honey, can you Teddy this up for me?"

"I hate you," a voice bit out with a long-suffering sigh behind Sinister. 

Nathaniel Essex did not turn to look, his attention captured by the image at his feet.

At some point, someone had carved arcane magical symbols using the blood spilled.

How unscientific.

Then, Mister Sinister felt a tearing sensation as his blood boiled and his soul tore to shreds. From both, like a fire travelling down an electric wire, the curse spread to every other 'Nathaniel Essex' in existence.

********

I stared at what used to be Mister Sinister, or at least the Boar Beastkin he had been in the end before Medea's spell popped him like a zit.

Talking to the walking crime against nature and Me had been mildly interesting but viscerally disgusting. I hadn't been exaggerating about the smell.

Still, it had given Emma the time she needed to get everything she needed as I pulled topics to the forefront of his mind. Medea also had plenty of time to be thorough with her spell.

I just wish the moron hadn't been a walking advertisement for why believing in pseudo-sciences and misunderstanding the fundamental theories of science was a recipe for disaster.

Evolution was not the process of 'Survival of the Best.'

Evolution was 'Best at Surviving.' All it did was encourage traits that facilitated the propagation of themselves. And even then, it was only in their current environment.

While I respected scientists and the scientific method, morons who thought they knew what they were doing gave everyone else a bad name.

Good riddance.

I kicked a larger chunk of what was once Essex, what looked like a snout, and used my Element to ensure he was really dead.

Yep, super mega ultra giga dead.

I didn't even try to stop myself.

"Anyone in the mood for bacon?"

Most of my wives looked at me with varying levels of disgust.

"I believe there isn't a piece big enough for bacon." Robin, as always, was willing to play along with my terrible jokes. "Burnt Ends. That is what we should have for dinner."

I couldn't help it.

In a pocket dimension filled with mutated corpses, in a room drowning in blood and covered in Maneater Boars, and having accidentally released a plague of biblical proportions, I honestly couldn't help it.

I doubled over with laughter as the looks of disgust shifted to the pirate, who pretended to look innocent.

It was such a stupid, terrible, and inappropriate joke that it had me laughing and laughing and laughing.

Emma let me have my moment of mirth before reminding me of the situation.

"We need to be going," she told me. "Sinister spread it much farther than you guessed. He put it in water supplies."

That sobered me up, and I barked out orders.

"Everyone gather round," I said. "Raven, take us to the entrance. Emma, pass any extra locations you found in his head to her. Robin. Ranni."

"My Lord?"

"I want you two to work with Raven," I met the eyes of the goddess, willing her to understand the seriousness of the situation. "I want clones and dolls at every one of those locations. Do not let even a bug in or out."

"Got it," Robin answered, as Ranni nodded imperiously.

"Yoruichi, grab Tsunade and Panacea. Have them look over the Pryor, the baby, and Mystique. Artoria and Melina have them at the Mansion. Don't do anything to them, just run tests." I paused as another thought entered my mind. "Medea, you go with her. I don't think magic can help, but I'd love to be proven wrong."

"Very well," Medea agreed but shot me a dirty look. I guess she was still annoyed about the Winnie the Pooh pun.

I regret nothing.

Raven consumed us all in shadow, bringing us to the entrance of the pocket world.

"Diana, can you find your counterpart?"

"What for," my Amazon asked in surprise.

"The meeting was FUBAR." I grimaced at the way she straitened in worry. "Essentially, we had ironed things out when all the heroes were kidnapped in such a way to look like we did. Batman knows the truth. I am having him run interference with the other heroes, but some familiar faces would probably help him and us."

"Where were they taken?"

"I don't know. They are not our priority." Diana looked like she would argue, but I hurried to continue before she could say anything. "We will try to rescue them, but if we don't contain every single one of Sinister's labs before things start breaking out, things will get much worse. I will do my best to rescue them later and explain everything as soon as possible, but I need you to trust me."

Diana didn't look super happy, her lips set in a thin line, but she nodded, rubbing her brassers as she did.

"Very well, though I will require all the information later."

"I'll give it." 

I honestly was sick of my past always coming up to bite me in the ass like this. I wasn't trying to hide things from them, no matter how much I desired them to see me in a positive light. It was just that we had barely been together full-time for a few months.

Relationships take communication. Communication takes time. And we had both too much and too little time together.

I had watched them for the entire year and knew almost all of their secrets. They didn't have the same luxury as me. On top of their time off the Island for their various hobbies and jobs, getting to know both Ranni and Melina and all this bullshit with this annoying 'Oppressor' asshole, all my wives had been more than patient with me.

And I realized I wanted them to know.

I did not want them to love a fake image they had in mind, one born from only their limited window into my time in my cell. Our relationship had been artificially hastened by Dragon Aura and my own Mad Love, but I nonetheless wanted it to be real.

We were going to be together forever.

If it was going to work, they needed to know 'Mikael the Monster' as well as 'Mikael the Fake Hero' and 'Mikael the Man.'

"Scathach," I said, not letting my thoughts show on my face as I turned to the Dragon of Blood. She looked at me with a raised brow and a smirk. "For now, go with Medea and the others to the Island. See if your Runes or Element can sense anything from our captives. Be ready to leave at a moment's notice, though. I might need you." 

Depending on how things went, she could be the key to this situation.

I just hoped I didn't need to use her.

"Valeria says she has something we can use," Melina told me as soon as we left the dimension.

"Great, Glynda, you're with me. We'll pick that up, then bounce between all the labs Emma found in his head. We're doing this bandit style. Looting and burning."

"Understood."

Man, I loved women of action. I could see their confusion at my seriousness, but they were willing to work with me. No damsels in need of rescuing for me, thanks. Give me a heroine every day of the week.

"Am I forgetting anything?" I asked Emma.

"Just one thing."

I looked at Emma in surprise. I thought I had the basics covered, at least for the immediate issues.

"What? Is Odin? If he fucks with us right now, I am eating him like I did the other Skyfathers. And, no offence, but Melina doesn't have enough experience with the Phoenix Force for any reality warping at the level we need just yet. Give it a few years."

I should have known by how her face was carefully set in a neutral mask that she was up to something.

"Just that you owe Valeria an apology."

"What for?" I seriously tried to think about what.

"For getting angry at her," Emma smirked. "We did end up kidnapping a baby."

My face must have been fucking hilarious because everyone was laughing.

Eventually, I joined them before we split up for our tasks.

It was precisely when things looked bad that I needed laughs like that.

If the world ends, I'll greet it with a middle finger, a pun, and a laugh.