"The secret of my influence has always been that it remained secret."

-Salvador Dal

********

They were The Green.

All that grew.

They were The Green.

Their roots were strong.

They were The Green.

The Parliament of Trees was everywhere. The smallest blade of grass. The most towering of oaks.

They were- "Fucking useless."

The connection shivered in confusion.

They didn't understand.

They were strong. They were life. They were the roots that reached the sky, the seas, and the earth.

They were The Green.

"We get it. You vape." I deadpanned, wishing I had temples I could rub.

Vines swaying in a breeze, growing down, down, down, down.

I couldn't physically get a headache at the moment, but man, this thing was giving its best.

Hardy grass, hidden from the sun's light for months, only to emerge when the snow and ice thawed.

"What does that even mean," Tsunade asked me through the connection.

Cacti flourishing where so much other life had failed.

"Never mind," I sighed mentally, focusing on my future baby momma. "Are you able to get it to answer you clearly?"

A weed growing strong, no matter the opposition.

"It's answering," the former Hokage hedged. "It's not like Nature Chakra. It has a mind. Or rather, quadrillions of tiny unformed senses of self come together to form the Parliament. But it's... it doesn't have the same priorities as us. The same thought process."

Trees turn to ash, only for life to spring anew in the ashes.

"No, you don't say," I drawled sarcastically.

Seeds spread through the air, through the water. There was no corner they could not reach.

I got an impression of annoyance directed at me from my wife, and had we not been metaphysically communicating with the embodiment of all plant life on earth, I'm sure she would have smacked me over the head.

I chalked it up to my win as I ignored the feeling of a fern blooming under a ray of sunshine.

"It doesn't have eyes or ears, not without an Avatar," Tsunade communicated. "It knows something about what we're asking, 'the Oppressor,' and its... death? It conceives of the time under its control as being 'dead' rather than temporarily controlled. It doesn't want to experience that again, so it insists on making me its new Avatar."

Lightning split my trunk, my bark blackening and dying. Yet I lived still.

"So it's a company that's going bankrupt and is hurrying to sell stocks to raise funds in its panic."

Leaves weakened and fell. The sun grew darker. Colder. Sleep came.

"...Essentially, yes. Only more desperately. It, and maybe the other Parliaments, have a basic understanding of the Defences. Not their exact mechanics, just that we are protected from all outside connections like theirs and their enemy's. They think that if we become their Avatars, not only will they be able to merge with the Island properly, but they will be protected from being 'killed' again."

Water trickled through my roots. The loamy soil enveloped me. I was safe.

"Let me guess, the Black wants Priscilla?"

I fell. My roots dried. I died. I spread. I was reborn in a thousand new seeds.

"Yes. The Parliaments have been keeping a close track of us and have favourites. The Parliament of Flames wants Melina, obviously, but the others have been trying to reach out to their ideal candidates. The Melt wants Glynda, The White likes Ranni, The Grey keeps trying to get Scathach to notice them, and The Red is after Yoruichi."

"Huh," I grunted in half surprised. "Some of those line up, but others are a bit iffy. Are they all this desperate? And what about me? I feel unloved."

"They are all desperate, especially after The Green fell thanks to Ivy. And Melina, you, and I can work with any of them, but we are all spoken for. Any time one of the others tries to reach out to you, they are attacked by the remnants of The Clear. It's almost feral with insistence."

It wasn't like this little meeting of minds had been entirely without answers. We had discovered that The Clear, representing all aquatic life, had been completely shattered by 'the Oppressor' years ago. Not that all marine life had been killed, but that any sort of higher functioning, whether intellectually or spiritually, had been completely broken.

The Parliament of Waves had been scattered to the waves, pun intended.

My presence in the ocean and my Freeing it of trash had started as a sort of healing process, but it would be years before anything but the most animalistic of minds formed.

It was years after that that The Divided fell, actually being subsumed by the enemy rather than destroyed, unlike The Clear. That was when the Parliaments understood they were under attack rather than just some freak accident with The Clear. From there, The Metal fell when its Avatar tried to confront the Oppressor directly.

After that, the Parliaments started playing defence, primarily through Ciara. Before they could infect their respective Parliaments, she had hunted down the rogue Avatars, or potential Avatars. After finishing that, she 'retired' to the Birdcage with Swamp Thing, waiting for an opportunity.

They found one when they realized my Family was unaffected by their Enemy, but the stalemate had lasted until Priscilla had slain Swamp Thing.

The Green and The Red were the most active of the still surviving Parliaments, but the former had no way of working actively without using an Avatar. Plants were generally passive, unlike The Red, which could work through animals. The Clear had also been like The Red, able to operate through marine animals if it needed something actively done.

So the Green, without any choice and unable to act without a medium, had reached out to Poison Ivy. They had wanted to use her as their newest Avatar and continued trying to reach out to me.

But Ivy had already been under the Oppressor's control and glutted with gallons and gallons of Old Blood. Once she became an Avatar, she was an open gateway to The Green.

If it weren't for Robin catching sight of the infected villainess while watching over Gotham and seeing the neon signs pointing out 'Infected Chlorokinetic intent on attacking Ciara,' we might never have known The Green had fallen.

Still, that left me with one question.

"So all these images and impressions are The Green trying to seduce you?"

"Yes."

"And, if I ever lower my Defences to talk to it, The Clear is going to go absolutely piranhas over trying to do the same for me?"

"Probably."

"...Is it wrong that I see nothing wrong with a mindbroken embodiment of nature going full Yandere for me?"

"Yes. Yes, it is. You need therapy."

"Ha! There isn't a therapist in the multiverse qualified enough for all my bullshit. Besides, why pay for therapy when I have thirteen wives ready and willing to provide succour to this poor battered soul? Physical therapy is still therapy."

"...Maybe I should accept The Green's offer."

"Too late! You can never escape. A part of me is inside you!"

"If you ever call our sons that again, I will find a way to throw you into the sun."

"Yes, dear. I won't, dear. Mikael is a good boy."

"That would be more convincing if you weren't doing your Tobi impression."

"Hn. Maybe I want to be thrown into a sun, hn? Think of the explosion! What art!"

"...Please stop."

"My thoughts exactly. Please FUCKING STOP!"

I did my best to project the full force of my ire through Tsunade's connection to The Green, interrupting its attempt to seduce my wife with another impression of high-quality fertilizer.

It... crinkled, for lack of a better word, in confusion.

I got the impression that most people it wanted as an Avatar would jump at the chance to become one with all the plants it was projecting at us. Power. Immortality. Purpose. Being part of something greater.

What was not to love?

Oh, I don't know. Maybe the fact that Avatars of the Parliaments become their tools? Physical embodiments to carry out their wills.

If it were a power boost and useful abilities, I would be all for signing my Family up for Last Air Bender-type shenanigans with the Parliaments of Earth.

But there was no power without cost.

Becoming an Avatar was to merge with the will of the elements. Not only that but so long as one was an Elemental Avatar, they were bound to uphold the will of their respective element.

The Parliaments were lesser, more restricted versions of the Phoenix Force.

Just because I had allowed Melina to merge with it under extreme duress didn't mean I would jump in bed with a whole bunch of other forces of nature.

Tsunade didn't want to become an Avatar of The Green either, especially not while pregnant. This communion was just to gain information.

And The Green was being fucking useless in that regard.

Talking with Shaper had been so much more productive than this bunch of compost for brains.

"If you want to work with us," I communicated with Parliament of Trees. "We need to know everything you can give us about your 'death.'"

I received another image of a mangrove spreading out over miles and miles of wetland.

This spirit communion sucked. I want a refund. Two out of ten stars. Would not recommend.

"Let's try something else," Tsunade told me.

"What are you thinking?" I asked, almost ready to go on a holy war with a lawn mower.

"I want to try having the Phoenix do the talking for us. Can you manage something like that?"

"...Maybe," Melina hesitated. She maintained the connection between me and Tsunade while the kunoichi communed with The Green. "Give me a second. All my training has been in trying to become one with it. Separating mind processes like that is a new challenge."

Us understanding The Green had never been the problem. I was a Great One, for Dagon's sake. I could communicate with fucking Shards. But this bastard was just too dumb to understand human speech or thought patterns.

If someone wasn't already a plant elemental, or close enough to actually talk to plants, then trying to speak to it was like talking to a tree.

A dumb tree.

I endured the annoyance of feeling insects and other small creatures dissolving in the water of my flower after getting trapped and turning into delicious, nutritious plant food.

Then I wished to return to the carnivorous plant, as instead, I felt myself release pheromones to attract bees, feeling them rub themselves all over me and spread my pollen.

I feel dirty.

I could feel both Tsunade's and Melina's amusement at my plight. For some reason, those two had no issues, essentially living being mentally seduced.

Damnit! I should have made a 'woo'd' pun!

This entire thing was throwing me off. It felt so wrong.

It would be one thing if my body were turned into a tree. I could handle that, even if it got boring quickly.

But something like this, where my sense of self was messed with, gave me the hi'bee' ji'bee's.

We weren't even connected to The Green; we were just talking with it. There was no danger of it trying to control us since our Defences and my own element would prevent such a thing.

I was safer here and now that I was facing Trigon, the Endbringers, or the Gods, but just... ugh.

It was wrong.

So wrong.

I was at no risk of losing 'myself,' but still, it was way too close for comfort.

"I think I have it."

Barely had Melina transmitted her words that the feeling of the connection changed.

A sensation of vast power, eclipsing even my own, surrounded us.

It, too, tried to mentally fondle me.

"Back! Back! Back you horny bird! Back, or I'm making fried chicken for Medea! I'll do it! Don't test me!"

With great reluctance, the Phoenix Force's presence distanced itself from me.

I was honestly shocked that actually worked.

Usually, the damn bird spent hundreds of thousands of years pestering me before backing off to do its job.

Was Melina influencing it? Or did it just understand me better?

Either way, the Phoenix Force started to convey our questions to The Green.

"First, ask how it was infected, controlled, or 'died,' or whatever."

The psychic embodiment of all life transmitted the question, and I got a psychic impression that, for some reason, reminded me of the clickers from The Last of Us. What were those mind-control mushrooms called? Corticepts? Something like that.

The Green responded.

We felt ourselves reach out to Poison Ivy, our last hope. We connected. Then, we were flooded with the sensation of death.

Not Death, my patron, but the feeling of cessation. Of the futility of life. Despair. Loneliness. Helplessness.

We reached out to the other Parliaments. We wanted help.

Nothing.

We were alone.

We were dead.

...

Then we were alive again. Our Avatar was dead, and we were Free.

Between one moment and the next, all that was conveyed to us.

"Did they see anything? About how Ivy was infected?" I asked, trying to get some actual usable information.

"No eyes," Tsunade reminded me. "Try asking it about The Rhythm or the Divided."

The Phoenix Force conveyed the questions using the impressions of artificially grown plants and pollen spores.

We were treated to another rendition of the same visions, the blankness of death ending with me Freeing it.

"Fucking useless."

I had hoped this would be the smoking gun. The mistake. The flaw in an otherwise masterful concealment of identity.

Secret identities suck when the bad guys use them.

I had hoped to finally have some concrete proof, but this thing was even more useless than I thought.

An entity as powerful as the Parliament of Trees shouldn't simply keel over and die.

They had to know something.

"Mikael. Why don't you go take a walk?"

Tsunade's voice brokered no argument despite her effort not to Order me.

I wanted to argue, to point out that I still wanted to answer so many questions.

"We will deal with it," Melina joined in, taking over from the Phoenix for the moment. "We aren't in any danger."

I took a deep breath.

Which was weird since I was just my mind in this place.

The disconnect between the impression of what I was doing and what I wanted to do made me pause.

I didn't want to be here.

My wives were right.

Getting angry at a bunch of plants wouldn't help anything. And they knew all the questions I wanted answered anyway and were more qualified to ask them.

I had joined Tsunade partly out of curiosity and partly to Free her if the Parliament of Trees tried something funky while they were communicating. Since that wasn't the case, I wasn't needed.

And I really didn't want to be here.

"Alright."

"We'll tell you everything we find over dinner."

"Sure."

I Freed myself from the connection, physically opening my eyes to the world around me.

We were in some random clearing in the rainforest. The Green couldn't connect to my Island. I didn't let it. So we had come out here to be uninterrupted while trying to commune with it.

I sighed.

"Mikael."

"I'm fine," I answered Raven immediately.

She stood beside the couch I had pulled out to sit on while doing our little Spirit Journey. Others might want to meditate on a bunch of moss, but I liked my creature comforts, thank you.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Raven had been in my shadow when we started, acting as a physical watch-bird while we were focused on the spiritual realm of the Parliament of Trees.

"If you want to lie, you should hide your emotions," my big tiddy goth wife deadpanned.

"Then you'd know something was wrong," I sighed, rubbing my face tiredly. Generally, I let my wives read my mind, and Raven sense my emotions. I had no shame about who I was or what I thought.

But sometimes, I wanted to brood, damnit! Can't you let a guy be a little emo? Just a little? Pretty please?

"...Do you want to talk about it?"

Did I?

I asked myself that question seriously. I always strove to be self-aware in all things I did. Was I always successful? Of course not, but I tried to never lie to myself, if not anyone else. Recognizing my own hubris, faults, hypocrisies, and emotions was just as important as knowing my abilities and strengths.

So, did I want to talk to someone about it?

"Not right now," I sighed again, standing up with a stretch. "Later. I want to get my own thoughts in order."

"Alright," Raven nodded easily.

Despite myself, I smiled gently and leaned down to give her a light peck on the jewel on her forehead. Her skin darkened slightly, but she tilted her head up, and I obliged her with a real kiss.

"Keep an eye on those two," I nodded to the 'unconscious' bodies of Melina and Tsunade. "Have one of your emoti-clones come get me if something happens. I'd like to be alone for a bit."

"Sure," Raven agreed without issues.

She knew exactly what it was like to want privacy, but I couldn't just sink into a shadowy dimension and leave a bunch of clones to do my work when I wanted to be alone.

"Thanks," I said, pulling out my phone to see if Valeria had sent me anything while I was under.

Scathach, Ranni, and Melina were great at finding hotspots of Old Blood and dealing with them. Still, Valeria had been one of the greatest contributors to controlling the infection.

The little genius had programs designed to monitor news, the internet, or even secret communications platforms. Then she compiled that information to find the threats we missed, primarily due to it being individuals of power, such as Strangers or organizations operating in the shadows.

I, or Yoruichi, were the ones that usually delt with those. But I also had asked her to send me alerts for anything that might be too... tragic or distressing.

So long as someone wanted to be Free of the Old Blood, I could help them. Even if they had started to transform into beasts, after I removed the Blood I could pass them over to Amelia to undo any unwanted alterations.

But they had to want it.

And the Old Blood was addictive.

I would know.

That power. That ecstasy. That freedom of release from civilization, morals, or fear.

The Old Blood was intoxicating, and many did not want to be Free of it.

Within all of us are Beasts. Some want to be let out. Some had good reason.

Children who didn't know any better.

The underprivileged looking for an escape.

The weak and oppressed, yearning for a better life.

I dealt with them all, whether it was the street urchins turning into beasts out of starvation or the slaves killing their masters in a bloody frenzy.

I saved those I could, but only one in a million wished to give up power once Beasthood started.

Thankfully, Valeria had not sent me any new hotspots that needed my attention.

With a nod of farewell to Raven, I teleported back to the Mansion.

What to do?

Should I read something? Play a game? I didn't feel like pestering one of my wives at the moment, wanting some solitude, but at the same time, I didn't want to be alone.

The great introvert paradox: wanting to be alone yet desiring companionship.

Only, I had been alone for centuries, and I had so many options for companionship that I was spoiled for choice.

Maybe I should go for a flight?

Or take a nap?

I meandered my way outside the front doors of my home, trying to decide what I wanted to do or if I wanted to do anything at all.

I was so tired.

I found Torrent beside the door, my fat cat nestled between his horns.

"Were you two waiting for me?" I asked with a snort of laughter as my hands rose to pet Medea behind her ears and scratch the base of Torrent's horns.

My spirit steed gently bumped me with his head while my cat closed her eyes and started to purr.

"Are you two hungry?" Both animals perked up at the mention of food, Medea especially.

I always carried some of the dried berries Torrent liked, and feeding Medea was as simple as growing a tentacle for her to munch on. Seeing them nibble on the food brought a smile to my face.

I honestly had no idea if they had been waiting for me or not. They were bound to me, and I had been giving them doses of Dragon Blood regularly, but I had no idea what Tier they were at or how intelligent they were.

Neither was dumb, I knew that, but nor had they chosen to be anthropomorphized when they were first bound.

I guess being a Spirit Steed and a cat with wings was enough for them to be happy.

Finishing off the berries, Torrent bumped his head against me again.

"Want to go for a ride?" I asked, and Best Boi Torrent neighed in agreement.

I laughed lightly, throwing myself onto his back, having no trouble staying on despite the lack of saddle. It had been too long since I had ridden with my companion.

With the grace of a queen and the jiggle of a bowl full of jelly, Medea walked down Torrent's mane to nestle between my legs and the horse's neck.

"All right," I said, patting my Boi on his neck. "Where to?"

Torrent started at a trot down the pathway through the orchard, slowly gaining speed until we moved at a decent cantor.

Then Torrent jumped, leaping meters into the air, only for a spiritual platform to appear under his hooves and jump again.

Then he did it again. And again. And again.

It didn't take long for my home to be a tiny speck below us at the southern tip of my Island.

"Since when can you fly?" I asked Torrent as he stopped jumping and started to run.

Torrent didn't answer me, just lowering his horned head as he sped up, his hooves beating in a rhythm across his spiritual platforms. We were gaining serious speed, moving much faster than he had ever run.

The wind buffeted us, but none of us were weak enough for something silly like air resistance to slow us down.

We galloped through the sky, passing under, through, and above clouds, and I started to sing Brothers Under the Sun.

We raced the drakes of the mountains as I sang Ghostrider In The Sky.

We flew through the hydra's necks, tying them into knots as it tried to bite us to the tune of Ride of the Valkyries.

We ran across the waves, the sea spray drenching us, much to Medea's displeasure. Her grumpy face had interrupted my rendition of Donkey Riding with laughter.

We zigzagged between mountains, narrowly navigating tight canyons and odd stone formations. Though we weren't in any danger, Rivers in the Desert never failed to get my heart pumping.

We flew together for hours, and I sang whatever I felt like singing at any moment.

Eventually, I was in a clear enough state of mind to actually self-reflect a bit as Torrent trotted through a system of caves near the bounded field that separated my home from the rest of my Island.

Was I still unhappy with how things had turned out? Sure.

While Priscilla had been the one to insist on using her show as bait, I hadn't fought against it nearly as much as I should have. For it to turn out for naught after all that left a bitter taste in my mouth.

I also didn't like the Parliaments, as a rule. Not only had they been a threat to my home and Family with their Avatars, but their one-track mind reminded me of all the problems I had with the Phoenix Force.

A purpose, especially like the preservation of life, was a wonderful thing so long as it didn't become your whole existence. On top of that, unlike the Phoenix Force, if one of my wives decided to become their Avatar, they'd be limited to this reality and those adjacent to it.

I still fully intended to travel the multiverse after I had dealt with the Old Blood and kicked the 'Oppressor' in the crotch a few times for messing with me and my Family. I was petty like that. If the Parliaments had their way, my wives would stay here to act as their guardians and tools. No way was I going to let that happen.

Thanks to dealing with the Beast Plague, I was also in a much more volatile mood than usual. My wives had torn me from my silence a half dozen times already. It wasn't the killing that was the problem so much.

It was the knowledge that I was partially to blame.

Killing in Dark Souls was easy. They were mindless undead.

Killing in Elden Ring was easy. Without the Rune of Death, they'd come back.

Killing in Bloodborne was harder. These weren't undead, and they wouldn't come back. They were just people in a shit situation. I was still able to do it because it needed to be done.

Here? The shit situation people found themselves in would not have been possible without my presence.

Unlike in Bloodborne, the Hunt in this world was both easier and harder.

Easier because I had so many more options and a support network of my Family and the allies we had gained.

Harder because I couldn't lose myself in the joys of battle.

I was simply too strong to get a good fight from anything on earth, especially those who needed to turn to the Old Blood for strength.

Another facet that made life harder was how obvious it was becoming that our enemy was experimenting with the Old Blood, not in a lab like Sinister, but in the real world.

Armies hopped up on blood. Supers injecting themselves and their powers mutating. Entire communities disappearing in a frenzy of slaughter for no reason.

Poison Ivy's attack on the show last night was the perfect example.

Not only had she been infected and mutated, but so had the Joke. Which, honestly, wasn't a surprise.

What was a surprise was that after three weeks, he had not started turning into a beast until I provoked him. Was I supposed to believe it was just a coincidence that the Joker became a Ziz bomb through Tohu, gathered as much Old Blood as possible, and teamed up with Poison Ivy to target my wife in the most public setting possible?

If I believed that, I might as well start listening to J. Jonah Jameson's podcasts.

My enemy's plan was proceeding, my plans were at a halt, and I was spilling an ocean of blood to buy time for one of my wives to gain the ability to snap her fingers to rewrite reality.

I had plenty of reasons to be a bit off, even before a bunch of trees started sending impressions directly into my brain.

Because as much as I was annoyed by everything else, the communication with the Parliament of Trees threw me off the most.

It just hit too close to home.

I could recognize that. It brushed too close to my deepest fears, my greatest insecurities.

The loss of 'myself.'

I shuddered at the memory.

They were just thought impressions from the perspective of the plants that made up the Parliament of Trees, only slightly different from the data packs Shaper had sent me when I communicated with it.

Yet still, I had to hold down my revulsion.

It was so wrong.

"Lord Mikael? Do you need me for something?"

"Hm?" I tore myself from my thoughts at the unexpected voice in these deep caves. "Hippolyta? What are you doing here?"

"Another Carthus Sandworm," the Queen of the Amazons explained simply, gesturing to her armour and weapon, both of which were covered in gunk and dirt. "It is more efficient for me to hunt it while my people protect the village."

"...We're near your village?"

Had I led Torrent down here?

Why hadn't he astralized? He hated the underground.

"Yes," Hippolyta nodded slowly, looking me over with a frown. "Are you well, Lord Mikael?"

"...I'm fine," I said, repressing another shudder as I looked down the tunnels. "I was just leaving."

I instinctually had a perfect understanding of my Island. While I didn't know the locations of living beings on it, unless I pulled the entire thing into a Dream, I could navigate even the most complex tunnels with my eyes closed, ears plugged, half asleep, and on every drug known to man and Dragon.

I had never physically visited that place, but I knew what lay in those depths.

I was never going down there.

Medea's purring gained volume, and Torrent clopped at the ground.

Maybe I was more out of it than I realized if I had led Torrent down here.

"Shall I accompany you?"

"If you want," I shrugged. "It's a free Island."

I turned Torrent around, giving him a pat of thanks for sticking with me, and started a trot up the way I had come.

It was a bit rude to ride a horse while Hippolyta walked, but she didn't seem to mind.

That, and Medea would not be pleased if she lost her napping spot.

"A fine mount," the Amazon Queen said, looking Torrent over. "He is not like Artoria's horse. What breed is he?"

"A Spirit Steed," I answered as amicably enough as I scratched him below his horns. I felt him relax slightly, but his body language was still uncomfortable. He really didn't like tight spaces.

He really was the Best Boi for sticking with me.

Still, Hippolyta didn't really care about my traumas. No need to put my baggage on someone else.

"Are there others on your Island? My people would be pleased to have mounts again."

"Do Amazons need mounts?" If I remember my comics right, didn't they use some sort of giant kangaroos?

"Though we are strong and tough, we cannot carry large amounts of supplies without it hampering our combat abilities. Now that we have rebuilt our village, I plan to set up outposts further away so we are not surprised again. Sturdy mounts would facilitate that. That and many of us wish to have companions again. Ones that won't try to kill us like the rest of the fauna of your home."

"Sorry to disappoint then," I laughed lightly. "Torrent is one of a kind, as far as I know. Your best bet is to try and domesticate some of the drakes. I know it's possible; my wives have four of them, but you'd need to ask Medea and Artoria about the exact process of raising them."

My cat popped her head up at the sound of her name, so I gave her a few scratches under her chin to lull her back to sleep.

"I have seen them around," Hippolyta nodded at my cat. "She is usually with them, and they visit to demand food. She always seems to know when we have excess to spare."

"That sounds like my fat floof," I laughed, giving my cat a vigorous rub.

"Where did you find Torrent, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He was a gift," I smiled at the memory. "The first time I met Melina, she gave me a whistle to call him."

"Truly?"

"Yep. In fact, Melina tells me that it was Torrent that led her to me. I don't think I would be here now without both of them. And it was because of him that I met Ranni. She knew his former master and wanted to make sure I would take care of him."

"I see," Hippolyta said, looking over Best Boi with a revaluting look.

"You don't," I shook my head, smiling. I was always happy to brag about my friends. "Torrent isn't just a horse. He's the Best Boi. My companion for decades. Lava. Swamps. Tens of thousands of miles. He's carried me through it all. We've fought demigods together. We've died together. He's been with me through my worst and my best."

"...You are lucky to have each other."

"I've always been lucky with people," I said honestly. "Whether it was my wives, a few friends, or companions like Torrent, there's always been great people to help me when I really need it. Amidst strange beings, in strange lands, there was no lack of those who reached. The spirit of jolly cooperation is strong with me."

"That is an... interesting choice of phrases."

"Something the first of many friends in my journey told me when we first met. The perfect example of a ray of sunshine in the darkest moment."

"Is..."

"Is what?" I asked as Hippolyta trailed off.

"Is that who you Priscilla singing about? Last night? The one that affected Lady Ranni so?"

"No. That was Blaidd. Another great companion I was lucky enough to meet on my journey, but that was much later. I met Solaire of Astora centuries before I made it to Ranni's world. Though I suppose you could say the first song Priscilla sang was about him and others. And the one I played could also be considered about Solaire, if only tangentially.

We travelled silently for a bit, Hippolyta deep in thought, but I didn't mind.

Talking about Torrent and then Solaire helped my mood tremendously.

The vast majority of my time spent in my prison had been spent alone, journeying through one world after another. The only meetings between me and enemies out for my soul.

But that made those few joyful meetings all the more precious.

I hated the Kiln. I hated the First Flame. I hated the pain, my weakness, and the fact that I couldn't change the world to make the fire unnecessary. I hated the cycle.

But I never regretted being fuel for the Age of Fire. Not when it preserved the world of those I cared about.

A delay of the inevitable Age of Dark wasn't so bad when you understood you were doing it so others could live.

That's why I could never hate Gwyn, because if I had been in his situation, I would have made the same choice as him.

I did make the same choice as him.

It didn't take us long to reach the surface, even though we weren't hurrying.

"Thank you."

"No problem," I said easily as I felt Torrent shiver in pleasure under me at having the sky above him again. I gave him a few more scratches and some berries as a reward.

"I do not mean just for your company, Lord Mikael," Hippolyta said seriously, looking me dead in the eyes. "I also mean for allowing us to live here. For helping defend our home. For last night."

"All I am doing is letting you freeload for a bit," I snorted. "I have plenty of space. It has cost me literally nothing to help you. And last night? Did you see that booth? It was needlessly huge. Even with all of you, my wives, and the Teen Titans, there were dozens of free seats."

"The costs are irrelevant," Hippolyta denied. "What matters is the hands extended when we needed it. You have gone above and beyond what could be expected after my people have done to you and your Family."

"My Family survived," I answered plainly. Hippolyta winced at the reminder of what her following the will of the gods had cost. "Make no mistake, I am a petty bastard. But my revenge is proportional to what I suffered. As far as I care, you lost more than I did, so we're square. Everything since? It's been gained by your own hands. Even the show last night. You were only invited because you helped my Family deal with a thorn in our side. I do not do charity. I cannot stand damsels, slaves, or pets."

"Mrow!"

"You're not a pet. You provide an invaluable service with your floofy goodness."

"Mrow."

"My point is," I returned my attention to the woman before me. "I have done nothing that you haven't earned. Even letting you live here is contingent on you all surviving. You might not be thanking me in a century when one of yours dies to a Basilisk or Rune Bear."

"... My daugt- Diana, is right. You truly are unable to accept thanks, aren't you?"

"Only when it is unearned. Otherwise, I am all for basking in adoration and praise."

"Then why are you not out there now? There must be hundreds of millions praising your name at the moment."

"Why would I care for some faceless scrubs sucking up to the local dragon?"

"Then why are you trying to save them?"

"I'm just cleaning up my mess."

"And before that? Why did you help with the Endbringers?"

"Do you have any idea how long I'd be on the metaphorical couch if I just let a bunch of people die when I could do something about it with practically zero risk to myself?"

"Trigon? Doomsday? My daughter explained everything before we invited you. Why help then?"

"Ask my wives. They're the reason I'm involved in most things."

"... I don't believe you."

"I don't care if you believe me or not. It's the truth."

"I think you are full of hot air. I think you are using your wives as excuses. I think, even without them, you'd want to help anyway. I think you are a good person."

"It's a good thing I don't care what you think either. If you want to paint me as a hero in your mind, go ahead. Just don't be surprised when I fail to meet your expectations."

"Not a hero. I know heroes. You are not a hero. You are a good person."

"Try explaining that to the mountains of corpses. I'm sure they'd love to hear about what a good person I am."

"A good person is still a person. They can fight. They can kill. They can die. They can become monsters. Especially if they are hurt enough."

"Do you think the universe cares about our pain? Newsflash, it doesn't give a shit. There are always more people, more planets, more galaxies, more universes. And if they all disappear? It still won't care. It doesn't care if we live or die. If we are hurt or happy. It doesn't care if you are all alone if your backstory is tragic or not, or if you are a good person. It. Does. Not. Care."

"Are you the universe? Or are you Mikael?"

"..."

"You don't care what I think? Then I will tell you what I think, and you can ignore me. I think you do care. I think you cared about people. I think you reached out, you were hurt, and you taught yourself not to care. I think you were a good man but were put in a situation where you had to choose between being good and surviving. You chose to survive."

"As if that is a choice!"

"I think, now that you have all this Family, this happiness, and all this power, you are trying to be a good man again and are using excuse after excuse to justify it. I think you have been so hurt that you can't accept a Hades damn thank you because you don't think you deserve it!"

"I think you need to stop trying to make me into something I'm not in your head. I am not some tragic hero, some wounded bird that needs to be nursed back to health to rejoin society. Was I dealt a shit hand? Sure. So were you. So was everyone in this world. Get over it. That's life. We can't control Life. It just is. All we can control is ourselves and how we react to it. And I choose this. I am who I want to be."

Hippolyta glared at me, and I glared right back.

I had remained on Torrent's back, but she had flown up to look me in the eye.

This woman drove me absolutely crazy, and not in a good way.

If I were single, would I mind engaging in a bit of hate-fucking to get it out of our system? Of course not. She was hot and my type.

But I was married, and Hippolyta wasn't Mine, so I was just frustrated with her.

At the same time, a part of me was glad to see her like this.

The gods and her people had been keeping this woman caged. Peace was good, so long as it didn't engender passivity.

Covered in worm guts, face flush in rage, glaring at me, Hippolyta looked alive in a way that I wouldn't have imagined when I first met her.

I was right.

A happy ending wasn't a world without conflicts.

A happy ending was a world where you were alive.

Hippolyta whirled and, without a word, flew off toward her village.

"I think that means I won," I stage whispered to Torrent, who just flicked his ears in response.

Medea just gave me The Cat Look™.

I still didn't know what The Cat Look™ meant, but I'm sure I didn't want to find out. It was probably something as absurd as it was insulting and pitying.

"Common, we should be getting back for dinner," I said, giving them both some scratches.

Torrent took off again, rising high in the air until we were just below the clouds. I could see the Mansion from here, but instead of flying down to it, I had my steed stand in the air over it and face northward.

My home stretched before me, the enormous stretch of land looking endless, even from this high up. Mountains. Forests. Plains. Poisonous swamps. Surrounding it all was the colossal white mountains of scales and spikes.

My true body wrapped around my home, mostly concealed under the ocean, yet still large enough that some of my spines were higher than the Himalayas. If it weren't for residing in my own dimension, my presence alone would shift the weather and the currents. As it was, the entire shipping industry went around me.

I don't know why I did it, and I probably scared all those people who were living in those floating towns around me, but I raised my true head from the seabed.

I was careful not to actually disturb the water, lest I set off a tsunami, but that wouldn't stop people from freaking out.

I didn't move slowly, but I was so large that it still took minutes for my head to fully clear the water, my long, draconic neck holding it right above the waves and the tips of my horns well beyond the clouds.

Despite my supernaturally enhanced vision and my unobstructed view, I couldn't even see my whole head from up here. It blocked out the entire horizon. Just a wall of white scales and an enormous eye looking back at me.

For a while, I just sat there in the air.

I looked up at myself, looking down at myself, sitting on my flying horse.

I couldn't help it.

I laughed.

I looked so... small.

So absolutely minuscule and insignificant that a stray huff of breath from my body would send me to the other side of the earth.

But I also looked so big. So gargantuan and powerful that this planet, this world, was too small to hold me.

And this was my body after spending months using Priscilla's spell to steadily shrink.

I had years before my actual body was at a size usable in day-to-day life; until then, I was stuck with such a puny avatar.

I had always dreamed of seeing everything the world had to offer, the most magnificent vistas and spectacular sights.

I never dreamed that I'd be one of them.

It was so absurd that I couldn't believe it sometimes.

I was this tiny creature, this human shell.

I was this colossal being, fit more for legends and myths than reality.

I was the unknowable abomination lurking below the surface.

I was all three.

I was Me.

Was this what I had hoped for when I made that Deal?

"You're such a handsome bastard," I told myself with a laugh. "How'd you get so lucky?"

Man, I was tired.

"I was just born this way," I answered, wishing I had my own Dragon Breath to huff out a puff of smoke. Then again, if I did, it would probably blot out the sun for the rest of the week for the floating villages.

"Was it worth it?" I asked. "Even after everything. All the pain, fear, and loss. Was it worth it? Would you do it again, knowing what it would cost?"

"In a heartbeat. Every second was worth it. Dark Souls. The Kiln. Elden Ring. Bloodborne. Doomsday. Trigon. Gods. The Old Blood. All the death and destruction. After all that, nothing has changed the fact that I have never been happier."

I was tired.

I'd always be tired.

That was Life.

I'd chosen this. I'd chosen Life, now I had to live it.

Sometimes it sucked. Sometimes it was exhausting. Sometimes I just needed to get away from it all.

But that was Life.

And damned if I wasn't happy to be alive.

I rested my head against the seabed again as I led Torrent down to the Mansion.

"What was that about," Medea asked me as we landed in front of the building, looking out towards my sinking head. My cat wasted no time jumping into her arms and snuggling against the witch's chest.

Usually, I'd be mad at the floofy little traitor, but I'd choose boobs over me any day so I couldn't judge.

"Just admiring my handsome face," I said with a laugh, dismounting from Torrent with a final pat on his side. He gave me one last head bump before trotting off to nibble on some fruit from the orchard.

Medea rolled her eyes fondly, petting the fat floof as she did so.

I hadn't been saying all of that out loud, of course. If I did, they would have been able to hear me from Nova Scotia to Spain.

"Since you have decided to grace us with your handsome face," the witch said sarcastically. "You can help us settle an argument."

"What's going on?"

"We think we know who the Oppressor is."

"Really? That's great! Did Tsunade get something from the council of shrubberies?"

"Yes, but some of us don't agree with the conclusion of the others."

"What's the issue," I asked as I hurried to make my way towards the sitting room where I could hear raised voices.

"I'll let them present their arguments. If they're right, you won't like it."

I raised a brow in question, but the scene I found was pretty self-explanatory.

Most of my wives were at the edges of the room, watching the argument with interest but not directly on one side or the other.

In the center of the room, Diana and Raven stood opposite Tsunade and Robin. All four looked at me as I entered, their eyes lighting up, and I suddenly felt very vulnerable.

"Perfect timing," Diana greeted me before looking over at Robin. "You can help explain."

"Explain what?"

"Why Darkseid can't be the Oppressor."

Man, Medea was right.

I really didn't like that idea.