"Obsession is the wellspring of genius and madness."

-Michel de Montaigne

********

"Listen, toots," Lobo slurred, spilling his drink all over the bar counter even as he eye-fucked her. "You don't fuck with the Sleeper. You don't talk about the Sleeper. And if you can avoid it, you don't even THINK about the Sleeper."

Carol Danvers wanted to punch the last Czarnian, the absolute sleaze ball, but he was one of the only leads she had on the Elden Lord.

"Is that what you call him? The Sleeper? Why?"

"Did you not hear me babe?" Lobo barked out a laugh. "Look around you, girly."

Captain Marvel did and noticed how empty the hole in the wall had become. The last group, four aliens who had been slurring a drinking song when she walked in, were being herded out by one of their members. The Amebid, Elan and Glx were confused and trying to fight back, but their Lupak friend was not having it forced them out the door.

Carol didn't miss the fearful look he shot their way.

They weren't looking at one of the most infamous mercenaries in the known universe but towards her.

Even the bartender had left, leaving her in the dive with Lobo alone.

The Main Man took the opportunity to lean over the bar, snag a few bottles, and start downing them.

"I am getting sick of getting shut down," Carol growled. "Dozens of planets, hundreds of people, and more races than I can name. I've talked with governments, religions, and even a void archeologist." Lobo barked out a laugh, purple booze spilling from his mouth as he did. "The Lanterns don't know anything. The Shi'ar refused to speak with me. And the Thanagarians chased me out! Why won't anybody give me anything!"

"The first rule of the Sleeper," Lobo singsonged as he put down a half-empty bottle. "Is you don't talk about the Sleeper."

"I don't need some Fight Club bullshit," Carol shattered the bar with a fist. "I've been out here for months! And you're the only one who's given me anything. We have a deal. So talk, or I'll take those bottles and shove them down your throat!"

Lobo laughed.

"I thought all of Blue Boy's team were pussies like him," the alien laughed as he took another swig. "Hey, you doing anything later? I'll give you a wild ride."

This time, Carol couldn't hold back.

When Lobo regrew his deformed torso, he resumed drinking like the hole in the bar was just part of the decoration.

He was still laughing.

"You sure you don't wanna fuck?" He asked as he leered at the blonde. "Hate fucks are the best."

"Either you give me something, or I'm gone," Carole said, her frustration slightly abated.

"Since you got me some top-shelf shit," the Main Man said as he took down a very expensive-looking bottle of alcohol, smashing the cybernetic security to do it. "And you will be the one to foot the bill and the blame for this mess. I can give you something. For old times' sake. How is Mr Boring anyway?"

"Superman is doing fine," Carol moved past the topic. The League had a deep intergalactic funding pool thanks to donations from the Fantastic Four. Reed Richards was a household name in the wider universe. Both for heroic deeds and many inventions that had spread, making the first family a lot of money they couldn't use on Earth. "But the Elden Lord, the Sleeper, why do you call him that? And why won't anyone talk to me?"

"I've never heard of the 'Elden Lord' or whatever, but a white dragon the size of a small moon? With six wings and carrying around a jewel? That's the Sleeper. Tas Cali. Mnkl!F. He Who Waits. Beast of the Void. The Seed. White Death. And a whole bunch of other pretentious names in a hundred different languages. The Sleeper is a catch-all term. It's all it does. It sleeps, and it grows. Endlessly. Some idiots think it will keep growing until it is so large there will be no more room left in the universe."

"If he is so well known," Carol said slowly, breathing out of her nose to keep her calm. "Why will no one talk to me about it?"

"Because they're wimps," Lobo snorted, and he faked a whine in a mocking, high-pitched voice. "'Noooo, don't drive me crazy! Don't turn my race into beasts! I don't want a genocide! Why is my daughter eating my eyes with sauce? Curse you, Sleeper!'" After shaking his hand fruitlessly at the ceiling, the Main Man dissolved into laughter.

Carol wrinkled her nose in disgust but stayed. She suspected Lobo might not be the most unbiased source, but he was the only one willing to talk to her, so she'd take what she could get.

"Wimps," Lobo chuckled as he continued to drink.

"So they're scared," Captain Marvel summarized simply. "Why? You said all he does is sleep."

"Because the Sleeper is 'kind.'" The way Lobo snorted at the last word told Carol that it was anything but the kindness she was familiar with. "As far as I know, the big bastard hasn't killed anything. Ever. All it does is sleep there, so far from any populated space that the only reason anyone knows the big lizard is there is because any civilization with a lick of survival instinct tracks the Phoenix Force. When THE cosmic force of the universe, which has gone unchanged since the dawn of time, starts to spend all its time hanging around one spot? Everyone notices. And then they get curious. And then, the Sleeper' rescues' them."

"'Rescues?'"

"See, Big White doesn't do anything," Lobo laughed. "But curiosity killed the Flerken and all that. So some hotshot explorer gets it in his head that he can land on the Jewel, or the beast, or get samples or whatever. But the Sleeper's in his Dream, see, so nobody can touch him. But people are stupid, so they hang around. But if you hang around too long, you start to Dream too."

"What does that mean?"

"Who knows?" Lobo shrugged. "But being around the Sleeper is bad business. Once you start to Dream, it talks to you. And from there, it chases you away. You wake up, and you're back in the known Sectors. It's been weeks. That's the rescue. If you're smart, you take the Sleeper's warning and try to forget everything. You go on living your life like nothing happened."

"And if you're not smart?"

"Then you go back. Maybe only once. Maybe you go back over and over again. It's costly. Every time you're 'rescued,' your ship gets fucked up somehow. Usually, it is your fault. When you Dream, you get... violent." Lobo's smile was predatory, but Carol didn't let it intimidate her. "And every time you come back, you are just a little bit... off. The Dream lasts a little longer. And every year, the Sleeper gets a little bit bigger. A tad more powerful."

"Cut to the chase," the heroine demanded. "Why is the 'Sleeper' a problem?"

"Because it drives you mad," Lobo cackled. "Anybody, anything, that meets the Sleeper goes a little bit insane. A part of their minds are left in the Dream. Even if you watch from a screen projected from the other side of the galaxy, seeing that beast is enough to tweak you just a tad. Get enough people leaving enough of themselves in the Dream, and they'll start talking about the Sleeper. The madness spreads. A ship went silent here. A lost colony there. People investigate. They discover blood and bodies and want to know why. So, the madness continues to spread. It was called the Dream Plague."

A shiver ran down Carol's spine at the gleeful look in those red eyes.

Lobo was many things, none good, but the bounty hunter should never be described as a fanboy.

"There are entire star systems that had to be purged," Lobo laughed cheerfully. "Star charts needed rearranging so people didn't start asking questions. Famous doctors, scientists, and psychics have tried to study the Plague and fell to it. They all go mad, craving blood. Entire planets have turned into mad beasts, tearing each other apart in a hunger for blood that is never satisfied. That was millions of years ago."

"The universe has a long memory, it seems?" Carol sighed. That was not reassuring. She suddenly remembered Diana expressing concerns about odd dreams and knowledge before she left. She'd need to get back soon and warn everyone. They needed to get that dragon off Earth. "That's why nobody talks about it? They're scared of a 'plague?'"

"The Dream Plague was not a sickness," Lobo laughed. "It's spread by knowledge. Knowing about the Plague was sometimes enough for weaker species to be infected. The Lanterns have stricken the Sleeper from their records, but the guardians remember. They designated its area a forbidden zone. Big wigs know, but they don't want the plebs to suddenly get curious, hop in their ships and wipe their civilization from the star maps, do they? So, the Sleeper is a bedtime story; only a few know what it looks like. Maybe a hundred living beings in all the universe have ever seen the Sleeper."

"Yet you know all of this?" Carol asked, eyebrow raised.

"What can I say," Lobo laughed. "I am a fan."

Then he took the jagged edges of a broken bottle and stabbed it into the back of his head.

Carol reared back, ready for anything, but the Czarnian just watched her, amusement in his red eyes as he carved a piece of his skull off of his head with brutal, jagged strokes of the broken bottle.

The bone, with the bloody scalp and bits of brain matter still attached, fell to the bar counter. Then, after dropping the broken bottle, Lobo grabbed the healing section of his skull and tore off another piece.

Bending down, he picked up the discarded skull fragment and held it in his left hand while his bloody right hand held the other piece. He presented them to Carol, who was staring at the gory display in horror. Lobo laughed wildly at her face, barely managing to get his words out through his humour.

"This is Krinxle," he said between guffaws of delight as he shook the left hand. "And this is Tim."

Affixed to the bone, nestled within brain matter, two red eyes blinked at Captain Marvel.

"I named Krinxle," Lobo said proudly. "The Sleeper named Tim. It's pretty cool. I was going to get my third, but I wanted it to be a special occasion, and it told me that if it saw me again within the century, it'd make me eat my dick."

"He, it, did that to you," Carol stared at the eyes, also narrowed in glee, in abject disgust.

"You don't get it, toots," Lobo laughed as he crushed the fragments of his head, eyes and all, into a paste in his hands. "The Sleeper doesn't do anything. It's only half real, half Dream. Everything that happens, the blood and death and Plague and all that shit? That's a byproduct—a ripple from a snore. If the Sleeper ever wakes, that's when the real shit will happen. And man, is it going to be awesome."

The Sleeper, the Elden Lord, was awake.

And he was on Earth.

********

"That will not happen on Earth," Batman said firmly.

Captain Marvel had been the first to wake up, and he was taking the opportunity to debrief her while they waited for the rest to do the same.

"I looked into it," Captain Marvel said through gritted teeth. "Lobo wasn't blowing smoke. A secure Kree repository contained records of the Dream Plague. Entire civilizations disappeared in a few years. Seeing the Sleeper, the Elden Lord, is an automatic death sentence from the Supreme Command. That area of space is the only place the Shi'ar don't follow the Phoenix."

"Other civilizations know about him and haven't been destroyed," Batman countered with facts. "Or there'd be no record. We know of a few. The Voldi have an entire mythology based around him. He flew through Shi'ar space to get here. A Green Lantern was the one to warn us. If the Elden Lord were such a threat, the first time he was noticed, the entire universe would have descended on him."

"That's because they can't connect the two," Carol said slowly. "To the people who know the truth about the Sleeper, as soon as I describe him, they shut up. But if I mention it moving and flying through space, they direct me to spaceships or aliens that look slightly like what I describe. They are fundamentally unable to accept 'the Sleeper' waking up. If it is moving, it cannot be the Sleeper. That's how it's managed to travel the universe without being noticed for so long. Its reputation for being unmovable is so absolute that it can come and go from Earth or any other planet without being recognized."

"I have noted a cognitive dissonance around him and his Family," Batman nodded. "A slight stranger effect that prevents all but the most basic of observation and distorts the recognition of facts until they cease to matter to him."

"SEE!" Captain Marvel cried. "The Elden Lord is the Sleeper."

"I never said he wasn't."

"Then why are you ignoring my warnings?"

"Because I have to work with data I can verify, not hearsay from millions of years ago," Batman told the woman sternly. When she looked ready to argue, he held up a hand. "I am not ignoring your warnings. Your story is completely possible. Likely even and has helped answer several questions I have. But it is filtered too much to be reliable. And you have not been on Earth in months. You do not understand the state of the world."

"Then explain it to me," Carol said, crossing her arms. "I am gone for a few months, and suddenly, the Elden Lord is all anyone can talk about. He has a fucking religion. His wives are international heroes. And just yesterday, one of the most powerful and successful women in the world just declared, on national television, that she was working to join his damn harem! The world has gone mad while I've been gone. I am half convinced the 'Dream Plague' has already infected everyone."

"It hasn't," Batman said with absolute certainty.

"How can you know that?"

"Because I know how it spread in the first place," Batman said, pulling up his file on this subject. "What you found is correct. The Elden Lord is a cognition-hazard." When Carol made to say something, he bulled on. "But it is not to his benefit. It is a metaphysical leak, possibly from the information dimension. He cannot control what knowledge is leaked. He calls the 'Truth,' the knowledge of the world. Mortals do not handle it well. If exposed to something they cannot handle, they descend into 'Frenzy.' But, if given time to acclimatize, it is 'Insight.' What Diana experienced is such an 'Insight.'"

The screen flashed through the files he had built on the subject. The records, both written and testimonial, from Wonder Woman and Amelia. Scans and pictures from the runes carved into Panacea's flesh. And evaluations done by scientific and magical means.

As Carol had reported, it all pointed to the fact that this 'Frenzy' and 'Insight' were byproducts of the Elden Lord's existence.

"Then how," Carol asked slowly, already frustrated. "Is it not a threat!?"

"The Elden Lord is very much a threat," Batman said plainly. "But not for this."

"Why. Not." Carol bit out, feeling like the caped crusader was toying with her.

Months.

Carol had spent months chasing down increasingly unlikely leads. She had been laughed at, dismissed, and even attacked for the line of inquiries. And when she finally had a viable lead, she had been actively targeted.

And when she returned?

The threat she was investigating had practically taken over the world. It was friends with heroes. Its wives were national icons! It killed the damn gods! She and most of the Justice League had been put in a fucking coma, thanks to it!

"He has done everything in his power to limit that hazard," Batman explained patiently. "Only three times has it ever come into effect. When Diana first saw him. When Panacea built him a body. And before Heartbreak. They all have one thing in common. It was when others were exposed to his non-masked presence."

"Explain."

"You are familiar with Wonder Woman's circumstances. Panacea directly interacted with his blood and worked with this 'truth.' Thanks to the runes, she has the greatest Insight but is the most protected. Both were not enough to clue me in. The minor Stranger effect prevented me from connecting the dots. But the last incident gave me all I needed. Before Heartbreak, while battling the gods, every single Amazon still living was exposed to what Wonder Woman described as an 'Unknowable Horror.' That was the Elden Lord's true body."

Carol's frustration slightly faded. She was friends with Diana and knew how tough the girl was. She had stared down the worst this world had to offer without a flinch. For her to use terms like that...

"Nico Robin, Consort Diana, and Scathach were, unsurprisingly, unaffected by the sight," Batman continued, pulling up more evidence. Testimonies from the Amazons. Surveillance records from after Heartbreak. Even psychological reports on Diana's sister. "In the weeks since, Diana experienced higher-than-usual bursts of Insight. But her fellow Amazons demonstrated the same initial symptoms she did when first exposed. Currently working with the Titans, Troia is a repeat of Diana's circumstances. The only difference being the Insight gained."

This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

From observing Troia, Batman understood the risk of 'Frenzy.' The term for those who fail to handle the 'Truth.' According to Troia's Insight and a study by Panacea and her own experience, slow accumulation of Insight was the best way to gain Eldritch Knowledge. Still, there was always a risk of being confronted with something they couldn't handle.

"You are not making me less worried, Bruce." Batman's jaw twitched at the name, but he continued patiently.

This was as much a debrief about her mission as it was a brief on the current knowledge of the Elden Lord. Batman did owe her that much for all the effort she put in.

He was still keeping secrets, of course, like his belief in a thirteenth wife or his concerns about the Phoenix Force's role in Mikael's plans. She didn't need to know everything, after all.

"They were all Amazons," Batman pointed out. "Supernaturally gifted women. They are adapting. Turning 'Truth' into 'Insight' rather than 'Frenzy.' But, if the 'Dream Plague' is such a threat, why haven't we seen it spread among regular humans? The Elden Lord has been here for months."

"I get the feeling you're going to tell me," Carol breathed through her nose.

"Information control," Batman said, and there was a note of something in his taciturn voice. Approval? Pride? Something like that. "The Elden Lord, and to a lesser extent, his Family, are obsessed with only releasing information about themselves that they control. They only want people to know what they allow them to know. They frame everything in a way that benefits them. Insight is a direct threat to that. They don't want that spread."

"Just because they don't want to be a threat, does not mean they are not."

"During our first official meeting with the man," Batman shook his head. "After the Doomsday incident, he explicitly stated that there shouldn't be more leaks now that he had a human body. A small comment. One I overlooked thanks to the stranger effect, but was proven when he exposed the Amazons."

"Meaning what?"

"It means exposure to his non-human body, such as the squid form we first knew him as and his Dragon form, is a catalyst. Exposure to those is what leads to leaks from the information dimension. Information he doesn't want leaking. Possible weaknesses. Plans. Sources of power. He has no control over what comes out, so he does his best to limit the 'Insight' others gain. His paranoia prevents the spread of 'Frenzy.'"

"And, while he was sleeping, it tried to direct people away," Captain Marvel was starting to put the pieces together herself now. "Only those who returned frequently contracted 'Dream Plague' from continued exposure to its draconian body. But that does not explain how entire planets fell to this 'frenzy' you mentioned."

"It does," Batman grunted. He was already explaining more than he liked to share, but if he wanted to prevent Captain Marvel from going off half-cocked and messing with the Elden Lord, he needed to share what he could. "If knowledge of the 'truth,' as he calls it, is the source of the Plague, then if someone gains enough Insight, they will gain enough knowledge to be a source of dissemination as well. Proximity to them will lead others to gain 'Insight.' And knowledge compounds knowledge. It would snowball."

"So it's slowing the spread by limiting knowledge about itself," Carol agreed. "Still, it has only been a few months, and it has leaked. Given enough time, despite any effort the Elden Lord takes, would fail to contain the Plague."

"It will take decades for that to happen at the current rate," Batman shook his head and pulled up the final piece of evidence. It had been sitting in the Elden Lord's file for weeks, wholly disregarded until today. "Look at this."

"Todd and Carl Cook?" Carol read the file. "Who are these two? I am not familiar."

"They are a recently wed couple who spent their honeymoon in New York," Batman explained. "Completely unremarkable except that they spent hours with the Elden Lord, Medea, and Glynda Goodwitch. They had breakfast together at a small cafe. That day, Mikael contacted the Sorcerer Supreme to alert him about the Endbringers. I placed them under surveillance just in case."

"What did you find?"

"Nothing."

Batman almost smiled at the surprised and frustrated look on Carol's face. Almost.

"Then why are they important."

If Batman had been a playful man, he might have joked about 'the curious incident of the dog in the night-time.'

But he wasn't a playful man, and there was every possibility Carol Danvers had never read Sherlock Holmes.

"The lack of signs is an important sign," Batman said. "These two spent hours with the Elden Lord while he was not in a human body. And yet, months later, they have not shown the slightest hint of Insight or Frenzy. Yet a few seconds was enough to leak Truth to Diana? And one glance was enough to put Amazons on their knees? Why?"

"Because there's nothing special about them," Captain Marvel wasn't stupid. She might not be the world's greatest detective, but she could combine pieces. "They're human. Mortal. Not Supers or mutants or anything."

"My current hypothesis is the more powerful you are, the easier it is to gain Insight," Batman nodded. "Conversely, the weaker you are, the harder it is to gain, but you are more susceptible to its negative properties. To 'Frenzy.' And, if the Elden Lord does not wish knowledge to spread, he will leave before a local population starts gaining. It explains his nomadic nature more than the idea of searching for 'concerts' that we initially believed."

"It comes to a planet, possibly in another dimension, ingratiates itself with the local populace with beneficial actions, and leaves before the 'Dream Plague' spread?" Carol asked as she followed along.

"Your report says nothing has been able to touch him where he sleeps?" Batman got a nod from his question. "He possibly leaves an Illusion when he's not there. We've seen him cast such magic during the Trigon incident. He uses his intangibility to avoid interference when he is there to sleep and grow more powerful."

Batman was also pretty confident he knew why the Elden Lord needed to rest so long. If, as he suspected, Mikael grew stronger through blood absorption, then it would explain why he sought out worlds filled with conflict.

After 'saving' the world and possibly taking their best and brightest as wives, he would return to his sleeping location to grow some more. Repeating the process over and over again was how he had gained such power while seeming to 'sleep' for millions of years.

Thanks to his psychological profile, Captain Marvel's report, and the observations of power usage for the last few months, Batman had a firm grasp on the Elden Lord, his threat risk, and possible avenues to dealing with him if it came to blows.

One thing still eluded Batman, though.

The Phoenix Force.

If what was reported was correct, and he had no reason to doubt this particular aspect of Carol's investigation, then the Elden Lord had access to the firebird for millions of years yet had never attempted to become its host or empower his wives with it. So why now?

Was it as simple as not having a wife capable of merging with the infamous force of nature?

If Melina were his most recent wife, that would explain why he took it now. For all his almost casual disregard for life, Mikael clearly cared about his wives. He wouldn't risk one of them becoming the Dark Phoenix, not even for increased power.

But there were holes in that theory, too.

Melina was the host. Batman didn't doubt that. Just as he didn't doubt that her appearance at that convention was a deliberate display of her status of host by Mikael. If the Elden Lord desired it, he could have kept her new powers a secret, but he hadn't. So why reveal it?

"I am not convinced," Carol shook Batman from his musings as she crossed her arms. "I see why you aren't worried about the 'Dream Plague,' at least for now, but the fact that it is a threat is non-arguable. You were one of the biggest proponents of dealing with the Elden Lord quickly. But now you're all for keeping it around? After what it pulled with the Phoenix?"

"We know he has the Phoenix Force," Batman grunted. "We do not know it was him that knocked you out. You say you don't remember anything."

"I don't need to remember to put two and two together," Captain Marvel scowled. "It is a threat. One we need to deal with before it is too late. Why are you hesitating? Why are you trusting the dragon after it has repeatedly proven itself to be a risk to Earth."

Batman reminded himself again that Carol hadn't been there. She had not talked to Mikael even once. Her only experience with the Family was the first fight with Ranni and hearsay after her return. Then, she had been put in a coma for a week.

She didn't know what it was like to feel the terror of six Endbringers attacking simultaneously. She didn't realize how indispensable that 'harem' had been to saving lives.

Carol Danvers had not experienced Heartbreak.

But explaining that... event to someone who hadn't been there was impossible, so Batman had to put it in a way she could understand.

"I know he is a threat," Batman repeated patiently. "I know he has plans. But I will not start a fight with a potential apocalypse until I have to. Do you want to know why I am trusting him? Because I had to. I had no choice. And when I did? He did not disappoint me. Thanks to him and his Family, there is an Earth for you to come back to."

Not counting saving Superman's life. Not counting returning a promising heroine to life and putting one of the greatest healers back on duty. Not counting everything Artoria and the other Diana had done while working with the League. Not counting permanently removing the threat of Trigon the Terrible. Not counting that night they went drinking and... everything that came after.

Even if you ignored all that, the simple fact was that Mikael's presence on Earth had been unequivocally beneficial to humanity.

Batman would always prepare for the fallout, the inevitable moment when the Elden Lord needed to be stopped. He did so for his enemies and allies. In a world of gods, a man always needed to be prepared.

But Batman would eternally hope never to use such plans.

Anyone could do good.

If he gave up that belief, he wouldn't be a hero.

********

"Leave us."

I didn't order my Family around most of the time. They weren't my slaves or servants. They were my wives. And I preferred having fun rather than being serious, dour, and grumpy.

Why be miserable when you can laugh?

That didn't mean I can't.

I knew how to project authority when I needed to. A tone of voice, a change in body language, and blunt word choice could all lead to a greater sense of gravitas than I usually employed.

Still, I didn't like acting like this to my wives outside the bedroom.

Even if they wanted me to.

Emma paused mid-sentence as I appeared in Frost's office and left the room to stand guard outside without even looking at her counterpart—complete obedience.

The unconditional surrender, without question, from my wife set the tone for this meeting precisely as I had planned.

It wasn't easy to intimidate someone like Emma Frost.

But it was possible.

"You've put me in something of a conundrum, Ms Frost," I said pleasantly as soon as my wife shut the door behind her, not giving the woman time to think.

I sat myself in one of the chairs she kept for guests, slightly lower and less fancy than her own, as a subtle powerplay. But I was so large that I still towered over her, even with the height difference.

"Elden Lord." To her credit, Frost recovered quickly and nodded in greeting to me. "I wasn't expecting you."

She was behind the desk, but I was in charge here, and we both knew it.

It was only because it would ruin the dramatic atmosphere I had built that I didn't make a 'Spanish Inquisition' joke.

"Call me Mikael," I ordered. "And you should have after what you pulled yesterday."

"Your wife was just discussing the subject with me," Frost said, and there was a touch of brittleness to her otherwise sharp smile. "I admit, it was a reckless thing to do, a spur-of-the-moment whim, but I fail to see how it can be anything but a benefit for both of us."

I had no doubt Emma had been tearing her a new one. Frost's 'proposal' during yesterday's interview had been entirely unplanned. As far as Frost knew, the plan had been to slowly get closer to me, using Priscilla as an excuse to come into contact more often. From there, she'd try and seduce her way into the Family.

Emma had her own plans and reasonings for those plans, but I was simply going along. If feelings did develop, which was unlikely, I would talk with the rest of the Family.

It was supposed to be a harmless exchange of benefits, even if Frost never became one of my wives.

My Family, mainly Emma, would back her endeavours and grow her business and power in the Hellfire Club while we gained access to her funds and aid in progressing Priscilla's music career.

A business relationship with the potential to turn into romance after a few years and a lot of luck on her end.

That had changed yesterday.

As soon as she had said the words, I had Emma dive into her mind to discover what the mutant had been planning. What Emma had found was as damning as it was, in retrospect, obvious.

Emma Frost hadn't been planning anything. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision to reveal her goal. Because by doing so, she fundamentally changed the nature of the deal she had with my Family.

Our plans with her relied on keeping the exact nature of our relationship a secret.

By declaring she was trying to get into my pants, she had invited everyone even slightly interested in me and my Family to dive into her business, her dealings, and their possible relationship with us.

Her enemies in the Hellfire Club would be wary. The X-men would trust her less. The Illuminati, who had been scouting her, would never ask her to join now.

Priscilla's career will forever be marked by stigma. People would have always been suspicious of how she started so quickly, but now they could point at Frost and declare, 'Priscilla only got where she is because of her husband!'

Which was precisely the opposite of what I wanted for my floofy dragon. I wanted her to stand on her merit, to break out of the shell that her past confined her to.

Frost's declaration had almost only downsides for both her and us.

So why had she done it?

Her goal had changed.

It had gone from 'Use the Elden Lord to gain power.' to 'Use power to gain the Elden Lord.'

Frost didn't want a business relationship anymore. She wanted exactly what Emma had, what she had been promised. And when she saw the opportunity to change the dynamic of our deal, she took it before we could stop her.

It had been a spur-of-the-moment, completely unplanned, and I couldn't help but admire it.

But just because I admired the move didn't mean I was happy with it.

Was 'Emma Frost' forever cursed to confound me?

Frost took my silence as an excuse to lay out her arguments.

"My statement is front page news," Frost said with a smile, lifting a newspaper from her desk and displaying it. Across the front was a picture of me, with separate pictures of Priscilla and Emma on either side. 'Love and Music?' Was printed across the front. "Everyone in the country now knows about the concert. Tickets are already sold out."

"They would have been without you saying what you did," I answered simply.

"But now her momentum is unstoppable," Frost insisted. "Rumors and theories will ensure she won't have an empty seat for at least a year. Her music will take over from there."

At least Frost wasn't ignoring Priscilla's skill. Still, that wasn't what this was about, and we both knew it.

"I fail to see how ticket sales are worth breaking our deal."

"I didn't break it," Frost insisted with a frown. She looked just like my wife, but I felt nothing for her. She wasn't Mine, so even though she looked the same, she was nowhere near as beautiful as my Emma. "I saw an opportunity to increase my usefulness to you, and I took it."

I almost smiled. She did it for me, did she?

"With our relationship out in the open," Frost explained. "We can be seen in public together. Me, or your wife. She won't need to remain hidden anymore. It also will allow me to allocate funds towards your goals, provide aid that I couldn't before, and push for a more aggressive political lobbying initiative than originally planned. Anybody suspicious will see it as me trying to seduce you."

"And I am sure you gain nothing from this," I drawled sarcastically. "I am not ignorant of how business works on this planet. I am sure you are aware of your stock prices."

With one sentence on national television, Emma Frost had almost doubled her economic value as stock traders hopped on the Frost Enterprise train.

I didn't blame them. If I knew a company was gaining connections to someone who could cure almost every disease, resurrect the dead, and had more power than countries, I'd hop on that as soon as possible as well.

"A fortunate coincidence," Frost waived off my point quickly as she stood from her desk and walked around to stand right in front of my chair. "We both know money is useless in front of power."

Frost was objectively beautiful. Even ignoring that my wife was deliberately feeding her information about my preferences, Emma Frost was one of the most beautiful women in a world where 'comic book pretty' was the standard. She was dressed for 'work' in a business skirt, white blouse, and stockings, but she had added her own touches to make her platinum blonde hair and ice-blue eyes stand out.

Emma Frost was beautiful, and she knew it.

"And you have power," she practically purred as she leaned over me, giving me a generous view of her cleavage. "You could do anything, and there is nothing anyone can do to stop you. I want that. You know I want that. And you want me. I know you do."

With a practiced ease, Frost unbuttoned two more buttons from the top of her blouse. Her white corset only accentuated her amazing breasts, and her pale nipples peaked tantalizingly from behind the fabric.

For the first time since I arrived, I smiled.

"Twins are a common fantasy," Frost whispered in my ear. She was almost sitting on top of me, my face practically pressed her to her breasts. "You could have us both. Right here. Right now. On my desk. On the floor. Wherever, whenever you wanted."

Part of the reason I had chosen Emma Frost when building that first short story so long ago was because she was exactly my type.

I didn't like damsels in distress. I liked women who knew what they wanted. Who were intelligent, capable, and powerful.

And I liked taking that all for myself.

Emma had done an excellent job with Frost.

But Emma had made one mistake.

"My company? It's yours." Frost's ice-blue eyes never left mine as she trailed a finger down my chest. "My power? Use it. My money, fame, name? You can have it all. Body, heart and soul included. All I want is for you to look at me like you do her."

Frost wasn't Mine.

"You haven't earned that."

My finger pressed against her forehead, stopping her in place.

With enough force to dent steel, I pushed.

Frost had to turn her head to diamond to keep it from caving in from the pressure, but it didn't stop me.

I rose to my feet slowly, pressing my finger against the center of her forehead, right above her nose, as I loomed over her.

I stepped forward, and Frost had to stumble back as the pressure on her skull mounted. I stepped forward again and again, and she backtracked, her poise ruined as I pushed her and pushed her until there was nowhere to go.

Frost's back met the wall of her office, and she pressed herself against it, diamond eyes wide and fearful as they met mine.

It was genuinely impressive what she had done. Frost had gone from being thrown for a loop by my arrival to trying to turn it to her advantage. Then she had used our privacy to try and seduce me.

She was precisely the type of woman I liked, who pushed back when I pushed.

But I wasn't here to be seduced.

I was here to make a point.

"You are right. Everything else is useless in front of power." The nail of the finger pressing against her forehead turned to a draconic claw, and diamond shattered. "Until I look at you like I look at them, you are nothing to me. I can have my wife kill you and replace you, and I will gain everything you could give me without the headache. Don't think you are more important than you really are."

I leaned forward, my claw halfway through her diamond skull as I let go of my control of my Mask.

Not the whole thing, just the hand pressing her against the wall.

Barbed tentacles caressed her diamond face as I whispered in her ear.

"You altered the deal. You will not do so again."

Then I left her to collapse to the ground, her diamond skull knitting itself back together as she law sprawled against the wall, blouse undone.

It wouldn't hurt Frost. I knew her diamond form could repair itself from much worse than that. But the message was sent.

I met Emma in the hallway as I closed the door behind me.

"I will play along with this," I told my wife. "I might even come to like her in the future. But it will never be at the others' expense. Do you understand?"

"I do." Emma bit out, her fists clenched. "It won't happen again."

"I know." I hated pulling shit like this, but the message needed to be sent.

Frost was right. Her declaration had helped sell tickets and drum up advertising for Prisilla's career. But that wasn't Priscilla's goal.

Priscilla loved music. More than even I, she just wanted to sing.

I was all for working plans around her events and using them to further my goals. Spying, politics, and manipulation were fair game. If it helped the others, like Emma, then even better.

But that was only on the outskirts. Not the show itself.

Frost had fucked that up by making that show about her when she should have only been there as background noise. A curiosity like Ciara, but ultimately only highlighting the floofiest of my wives.

Once Priscilla was on the stage, it was her show.

Just her and the music and the fans.

I did not want to taint that pure love of music with my, or Frost's, bullshit.

Frost could pull whatever she wanted with me, but Priscilla was taboo.

They both needed to remember that.

I let out a deep breath, getting my mind out of the state it needed to be in for a show like that.

"So," I asked with a grin, and Emma relaxed her clenched fists as I waggled my eyes suggestively. "How wet did that make you?"

"If you don't fuck me right now, I am going to scream."

I was about to oblige her after relocating the venue when my phone rang.

Only five people outside my Family had my number, so it was better to answer it than not.

"What's up, pipsqueak," I asked Valeria as I watched Emma drag up her skirt, exposing her garter belt and stockings.

"Mikael," the little girl on the other side cheered. "Great. Listen, you know I am on your side, right? Like, I don't have any other choice, so I have to be, but I still like you and your family, and you are cool and SPACE and-"

"Yep, I get it. Can you hurry a bit," I interrupted. Emma was giving me a full-on strip tease, swaying her hips to a beat only she could hear. "A bit occupied at the moment."

If I was a bit keyed up, sue me. I just had two versions of the same beautiful woman try and seduce me. One of which was my wife.

I could easily ignore Frost because she wasn't Mine, but Emma was, and I knew precisely how wild she got when I got authoritative.

So whatever Valeria had to say better be important, or I would hang up now and move on to more enjoyable activities.

"Did you kidnap a baby?"

...Motherfucker.