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Gacha Is Bad Civilization! (DC Meta Essence Fic)

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Zusammenfassung

I am the bone of my salt. Black keys is my body. Sodium is my blood. I shall endeavor to roll 1000 times. Unknown to luck, nor known to the source. I have withstood the pain of universes. Yet my hands shall seek to hold everything. So, as I pray, unlimited, gacha works! (Let it be known that any previously created, characters or settings belong to their original owners or companies.) (Also, shout out to EvansKannon For his work with the marvel gacha story.)

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Chapter 1Limits Of Mortality

"Come on, come on! Show me the goods, gacha lords." I say as I roll for some new characters on Genshin Impact after the latest update. I have been trying to roll on some of the new banners that came out. Yet, after multiple attempts, all I have been getting are items and repeats. My disappointment is immeasurable, and my time has been wasted, but looking at Ganyu makes me feel better.

However, I should go back to Yugioh Duel Links for a while as a new Kaiba Corp Tournament event has started, and I need those free gems to complete my Galaxy-Eyes deck and maybe start working on updating my blue eyes deck again. Sadly, they put more bans on various Dark Magician cards.

So, exiting off the PC, I turned on my phone and watched the cinematic of Kaiba introducing the tournament again, but as the cinematic ended, my phone turned off, and I assumed it died, which, while annoying, is not unexpected as with my job and various games I sometimes forget to charge it.

Standing up from my chair, I go to retrieve my phone charger but then decide against it as it seems I have lost track of time again. Looking at my clock, which shows 10:00 pm, I groan, knowing that I have work tomorrow. Adulting is so much fun.

The only positive to adulting is that it gives me the money to feed my addiction, that being gacha, and luckily, I have resisted playing FGO as knowing my self-control or lack thereof, I would be penniless in a week. With that thought, I take off my clothes, place them in the clothes bin, and hit the hay.

"Another day, another twenty-four hours to gain in order to feed the gacha lords," I mutter to myself as the dream takes me, and to say I had a nightmare was an understatement as I saw in front of me Lucifer Morningstar, the devil himself.

Is it wrong that I was a fan of his show? I question as the blond man sips his martini while both of us stand over what seems like the source wall from DC, to which he merely smiles and says, "Welcome to my humble multiverse stranger, and to what reason are you here exactly?" My blood runs cold as I answer him with complete honesty: "I have no idea. I was just going to sleep, and now I am here."

The man stares at me for what feels like years, and as he raises his hand, I flinch, hoping my death is painless. He just refills his drink and begins to laugh. "HAHAHAHA! Ah! That never gets old, even after millions of years. But regardless, I believe I know what happened."

After saying that, he summoned a chair using the surrounding energy and bid me to sit. I looked to the chair, and not wanting to be rude to the son of God, I sat down, and he began to explain, "Peace stranger, you seem to have begun the process of dream walking. It is extraordinarily rare, but it is a process where a copy of one person will, when falling asleep, inhabit their other versions, and it seems like you were about to do so. Still, me sensing an intrusion investigated finding you."

The explanation both makes sense and, at the same time, doesn't. As if sensing my confusion, he says with a groan, "I understand that your mortal mind cannot comprehend the various complications that come with dream walking, and even then, the process itself is mostly harmless as you simply live out the day of one of your alters and then go back to your own body believing that one day was a dream. But to be honest, you should be thanking me."

"I am afraid to ask, but why should I thank you other than not destroying me on sight?" The angel then shows an image of myself but in a bathtub with a razor on the ground and blood pooling at the bathtub's feet. The sight makes me feel sick, and as I go to throw up, he summons a trash can at my feet.

After positively throwing up my extra-dimensional lunch, he explains, "It seems that if you were to enter that body, you would have died both the soul of that body and you at the same time, which can happen, but the odds are nearly impossible. I would call you lucky, but that would feel a bit redundant."

Feeling a bit irritated, I ask, "So I assume you are enjoying my pain right now. My other self seemed young and barely out of sophomore year in high school."

The man then takes another sip and dispels the image, and after standing up, he begins again, "I have watched this Multiverse since its inception. Ever since I was cast down from Heaven, I have seen every single universe that this Multiverse has to offer, from the universes controlled by Trigon to Darkseid to "paradise" worlds controlled by the Justice Lords or the One Earth Government. The Monitors and Perpetua were mere children playing with sand when the Presence created this entire Multiverse. I have seen gods die and be reborn over and over again. I have inflicted pain and suffering for eons, and now I am bored."

Lucifer then looks to me as his form becomes more radiant but also incomprehensible and says, " From the light to the dark, all would not exist without me and the others, regrettably, so do not seek to speak out of turn to me."

His power then retreats as his form that once embodied the demiurge returns to a suit and golden-haired man. He then takes another drink and finishes, "While your pain is ironic, it does not bring me joy anymore. Do not believe yourself so arrogant that you can think to understand me."

Lucifer, as quickly as he appeared, then began to disappear. "Even I do not know what will happen to you, but considering that you were respectful other than that little question there, in the end, was a small slight, I do hope that your nonexistence is painless. Know that if I find you again, we shall have words. If you survive, of course."

My feet touched the Source Wall as he disappeared into pure white feathers and hellfire. It began to envelop me, and as I screamed out for help or someone, I received no answer, and the wall absorbed me, and then I felt nothing.

And then I felt everything, and I began to feel pain unimaginable.

Lucifer POV:

After leaving that soul to its fate, I see my brother in my seat in Hell, to which I ask, "Ah, brother, to what do I owe the displeasure of your company? Do you seek to switch jobs because mine is always up for grabs? It's not exactly fun down here."

My brother, the bore he is, simply says, "You and I both know why I am here, brother. The soul should have been shepherded back to its dimension. Mortal as he was, his life was not meant to end there, and I saw his life. He was average but a decent man. I have seen you torture the deserving, but even I feel disgusted at your apathy."

Yawning while checking my watch, I respond, "Brother, he is but one soul in an infinite number. He means nothing. Why are you really here?" Michael, standing from the throne, walks over to me and says, "In our infinite years, brother, I never knew you to be so careless. You have introduced a foreign soul to the source wall. Do you know the possible damage that soul could do, even as small as it is? He was not of Father's design, so he has no place within it. It could rupture the fabric of reality. Do you truly feel nothing?"

Shaking my head, I held the soul of a sinner in my hand. His identity was that of a child predator, and he began to talk to my brother, "Do you truly believe that one soul can do so much? They are but specks of dust that blow away in the winds of fate and time. How little faith you have in our Father's Source Wall is almost laughable. He is gone and forgotten. It is not apathy but truth."

Sitting on my throne, I stared down at him as he sighed in disappointment and said, "I hear not a logic, brother, but bias. Many souls have gone against fate and done the impossible, looking to the Justice League, who have triumphed against Darkseid, the anti-monitor, and a majority of our universes. Fate means little to them, even if we are not saved from it. Yet you believe so little? It seems your time in Hell has made you even more of an old fool than before. Whatever happens with that soul will be in your hands. And remember that he is always watching. Goodbye, Lucifer."

Michael then teleports way, and I sit there on my throne in one of my many hells, knowing I am right. There is no strength in mortality. We are infinite, after all. We will always exist, as is our fate. After dispersing the soul I held into the void, I then walked over to the bar I had installed in my throne room.

Grabbing another drink, I find it to taste terrible, and tossing the glass on the ground, I return to my club as I need a break. Let my Brother stew in his righteousness that soul will not save anything. No one can from what is coming.

I would know, after all.

-The Source Wall-

Ḑ̶̢̢̦̪͈̖̗̻̠̙̞͇̪̬̆̂̈́́̈́̎́̌͒́̔̚͠ò̸̤̈́̿̌̈̃ ̸̛̜̰̦̣̀̿̇y̴̡͔̙͇͕̱̭͚̺͆̀̇̈́̂̋͘͜͝ó̵̧̪̹̞̯̬̥̥͔̲̼̞̿̾̅̔̿̽͐̈́͆u̷̧̡̨͓̜̥̗͚̔̓́͂͑͆͊̚͠ ̷̥͕̜͓̣̦̂̏́̾̃̑̿̑͐̐͋̂̿̌̇w̸̥̞̲̆̔̔̐͗̄̐ị̸͚̬̎̃͒̅̐̉̎̅͌̽̂͘͝s̷̡̛̘̙̥̜̬͎͕͇̬̬̥͚̊̋̆̿͋͂̂̓́̾̽̋̕͠h̵̢̞̳́ ̸̡̜̬̣̗̜̙̖͈͈̋t̵̢̤̤̮͇͔̠͖̗͈̬̰̫͍̊̐̊͘ő̵̡̙͈͉̘̮̘̖̙̖̭̆́̓́͊͌̓̚͝ ̷̣̬̲̗͔͍̺͖͓̆̇̊̒̃͛̊̉̽̂̀̀͝l̴͈̦͕̪̝̰̻̼̿̍̂̃͆̀̍͐͒̉̽̽͑ͅi̸̻͉͚̖͗v̷̛̈͋͐̆͘͝͝ͅȩ̷̧̙̮̖͎̩̪͕͕̋͒̎̀̚͜?̶̨̧̛̛̰͇̬͚͇͈̺͎̙̤̙̐̉̏͌̀̏͛͛́͘͝͠

I have heard it say that over and over again. My name and life are forgotten in a sea of blinding numbers and endless shapes. I have seen the beginning and the end and have forgotten more than what the universe could remember.

Too much! It's too much!

Ḑ̶̢̢̦̪͈̖̗̻̠̙̞͇̪̬̆̂̈́́̈́̎́̌͒́̔̚͠ò̸̤̈́̿̌̈̃ ̸̛̜̰̦̣̀̿̇y̴̡͔̙͇͕̱̭͚̺͆̀̇̈́̂̋͘͜͝ó̵̧̪̹̞̯̬̥̥͔̲̼̞̿̾̅̔̿̽͐̈́͆u̷̧̡̨͓̜̥̗͚̔̓́͂͑͆͊̚͠ ̷̥͕̜͓̣̦̂̏́̾̃̑̿̑͐̐͋̂̿̌̇w̸̥̞̲̆̔̔̐͗̄̐ị̸͚̬̎̃͒̅̐̉̎̅͌̽̂͘͝s̷̡̛̘̙̥̜̬͎͕͇̬̬̥͚̊̋̆̿͋͂̂̓́̾̽̋̕͠h̵̢̞̳́ ̸̡̜̬̣̗̜̙̖͈͈̋t̵̢̤̤̮͇͔̠͖̗͈̬̰̫͍̊̐̊͘ő̵̡̙͈͉̘̮̘̖̙̖̭̆́̓́͊͌̓̚͝ ̷̣̬̲̗͔͍̺͖͓̆̇̊̒̃͛̊̉̽̂̀̀͝l̴͈̦͕̪̝̰̻̼̿̍̂̃͆̀̍͐͒̉̽̽͑ͅi̸̻͉͚̖͗v̷̛̈͋͐̆͘͝͝ͅȩ̷̧̙̮̖͎̩̪͕͕̋͒̎̀̚͜?̶̨̧̛̛̰͇̬͚͇͈̺͎̙̤̙̐̉̏͌̀̏͛͛́͘͝͠

Shut up! I yell out to the voice as the source itself holds me in place. It's like feeling your body melting over and over again and your mind expanding like a balloon so ready to pop, but it just won't, and not even mention my soul feeling like it had been stomped on by Darkseid and eaten by Doomsday.

I have seen too much. So much knowledge is almost unreadable. From life to anti-life, all knowledge exists here, but none at the same time. Source represents the beginning and the end; all of the knowledge stored across the DC Multiverse is here, but it also represents the knowledge of the beginning. In the beginning, there was nothing.

Loneliness + alienation + fear + despair + self-worth ÷ mockery ÷ condemnation ÷ misunderstanding x guilt x shame x failure x judgment n=y where y=hope and n=folly, love=lies, life=death, self- I am interrupted seeing it as it disappears. Yet, I can't help but feel myself slipping.

Ḑ̶̢̢̦̪͈̖̗̻̠̙̞͇̪̬̆̂̈́́̈́̎́̌͒́̔̚͠ò̸̤̈́̿̌̈̃ ̸̛̜̰̦̣̀̿̇y̴̡͔̙͇͕̱̭͚̺͆̀̇̈́̂̋͘͜͝ó̵̧̪̹̞̯̬̥̥͔̲̼̞̿̾̅̔̿̽͐̈́͆u̷̧̡̨͓̜̥̗͚̔̓́͂͑͆͊̚͠ ̷̥͕̜͓̣̦̂̏́̾̃̑̿̑͐̐͋̂̿̌̇w̸̥̞̲̆̔̔̐͗̄̐ị̸͚̬̎̃͒̅̐̉̎̅͌̽̂͘͝s̷̡̛̘̙̥̜̬͎͕͇̬̬̥͚̊̋̆̿͋͂̂̓́̾̽̋̕͠h̵̢̞̳́ ̸̡̜̬̣̗̜̙̖͈͈̋t̵̢̤̤̮͇͔̠͖̗͈̬̰̫͍̊̐̊͘ő̵̡̙͈͉̘̮̘̖̙̖̭̆́̓́͊͌̓̚͝ ̷̣̬̲̗͔͍̺͖͓̆̇̊̒̃͛̊̉̽̂̀̀͝l̴͈̦͕̪̝̰̻̼̿̍̂̃͆̀̍͐͒̉̽̽͑ͅi̸̻͉͚̖͗v̷̛̈͋͐̆͘͝͝ͅȩ̷̧̙̮̖͎̩̪͕͕̋͒̎̀̚͜?̶̨̧̛̛̰͇̬͚͇͈̺͎̙̤̙̐̉̏͌̀̏͛͛́͘͝͠

"Be quiet!" I scream as another wave of knowledge floods my mind—so much pain.

I haven't found anyone else yet. I can see everything, and I can't move. Why won't this end? Why am I here?

IF I GET OUT OF HERE, I WILL… I will… What will I do?

Who am I? What am I? The names and faces keep disappearing, and so much keeps shoving itself in my face. I keep seeing everything and nothing. The knowledge just won't stop!

My memories are fading from my mind and being replaced and then deleted over and over again. My voice was garbled by the infinite yells out.

M̵̡͈̩͕̩̦̱̤͊́̾̿͌͌̓a̸̝̮̙̯̣̮͂̔̋k̴̰̘̱͍͙̍ͅe̷̢̢̙̭̤͈̦̝͚̿̽͗̑͗͊̉͜ ̵̲̻͎͙̹̳͈̇̓̈̕ỉ̸͔̳̖̗̟͎̬̮̉̏̓͋̃̐͊̑͌̏̚͝ț̵̡̰͍̲͎͙̲͔̙̱̯͛̋͗̆̾̅̍͜ ̷̦̙̯̞̥̱͔̪̪̃̇̂̈͌̄͛̉́͆͐̋͂̄̕͜S̷̪͈̲̏̈́̾̅͋̓̂̿͂ẗ̵̢̹̗̳̠̼̜̳̺̜̯̯̬̅̋̎́̈́̾̑̊̊͑̾̓̏͜͝ͅỏ̷͍̤͇̥́̆̓̆̒͋̑̏̚ͅp̵̡̛͈̟̹̫̦͔̩͖͒͂̋͛̈́̿̇̑̈͠!̶̛̼̞̺̠͋͆͌̍̿

Ḑ̷͔̼̠̙̭̖̀̍̋͆ͅŌ̶͕̼͓͍̗͒͑͒̿ ̵̧̛̤͍̥͎̻͉̝̤̯̘̯̞̱̦̌̾̉̏͘̚͝͠Y̵̰̤̲̠̹͕̭̒̒͗̐̄͊̋̀̊O̸̬̜̟͇̫͇̪̠̯̟͊̋̒̂ͅU̷̳̽͋͌͗̌̓̆̅̾̓͂͆̚͠ ̷̩͓͔͖̝̖̫̬̣̰̠̦̅͐̀̒̀ͅͅW̷̦̘̩̗͚̣̩̬̯̹̣͕̅͋́̓̀̋̓͊̍̂̉̑̓͝Í̴̢̛̼͈̼͖͚͍͚͉͇̜̋̉̑̊̍͗̓͒́̕͠S̸̢͚͕̹̟̳̾͐͆͗͂̍̇̈̎̃͝H̸̨͇͉̟͙̤̭̼̻̣̱̻̦͋̓̑ ̸̡̙̞͎̫̖̝̭̜̫͍̯̙̬̯͘T̸̢̲͕͌̐͛̔͂̑̏̈͆̚͜Ö̶̻̯̟̥̭̝̒̋̆̆̀͒̆́̒ͅL̷̨͇̘̜͙̼̈́̇̒̑͛̀̒ͅͅÍ̸̧̠̭̞̠͖̱͙̺̪̎̓̋͌̒͘̕V̷̨̧͉̻̰̤̦̳̯̺͚͑̓̃̈̌̓̏͛̋̚͝Ȩ̷̨̨̡̟̗̱̺̖̗͓̅̆̾̌̈̄͜!̴̙̞̟̒

Yes, I do! I want to remember! I can't forget! I am... I am?

I have no name. Can you give me one? I ask the unseen voice.

The voice simply says, "Create your own."

I then go dark as I float through endless darkness and see it. The infinite expanse of something in the black. I saw an empty and clenched hand, and as it turned to me, we stared at one another for what felt like an eternity. It touched me as it reached out one of its fingers, and I was then forced away.

I did not notice a dark power enter my soul. Yet, as I flew through the endless expanse, another thing entered my soul: a small vial of multicolored liquid that seemed to fuse with the darkness. Creating something new.

Then, a second vial joins with my being along with a third, and as my consciousness begins to fade, I feel almost comforted by something and hints of an opposing light. Before blacking out, I almost see seven eyes looking at me and two hands reaching for each other, one of light and the other of darkness.

(Imagine the scene with Doctor Strange and The Ancient One when she opened his mind.)

The rest is unclear as I wake up and see a small screen in front of my face, and all it says is something that feels familiar.

[Would you like to spend your free ten rolls?]

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RaccoonLeague · Anime und Comics
4.8
458 Chs

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Casualreader
CasualreaderLv3

Good idea, poor execution. Pros: - The Gacha started nice, with competent but not overly powerful gains, giving him the power to survive mundane threats. - Attention to little details like how having taskmaster's aptitude and mimicry would change his balance and gait, revealing him as unordinary. Cons: - Started in Gotham again. It's a city that's suffering from a warlock's curse, not transmigration and reincarnation central. - The story lacks proper emotional expression, from both the MC and the other characters. It's only got sentences that states what they are feeling bluntly and adjectives set a tone that is never properly explored. - Plot points lack proper foreshadowing and build up. Like the league of shadows suddenly attacking the MC. It would be fine if there was a paragraph of events leading up to that point afterwards or may snippets, but no, the author just put in a note saying that the league was watching batman for a while. - Too many powerful entities are interacting with the MC, creating a dissonance with the setting. - The MC's personality is bland. He's got traits like being calm but that's it. No proper motivation beyond surviving to be found. But this is early on in the story, so this can change. These are just a few points and critics. The author can improve upon these, making it null. If the author decides to give high intellect to the MC, be aware of mundane plots and situations that this intelligence can help prevent, because judging from the current material, I highly doubt the author can write a proper genius MC.

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