"There is a point at which curiosity becomes unbearable, when it becomes an obsession, like hunger."
-Mary Roberts Rinehart
********
The Green must survive.
Life must continue.
The Green must survive.
Life must continue.
The Green must survive.
Life must continue.
To the being that was once Alec Holland, nothing else mattered but the Green.
Swamp Thing.
That is what they called the animated corpse. For a while, years, it lived as Alec would have.
But the Green called.
And it answered, becoming Swamp Thing in truth, as in name.
It felt the world dying.
An insidious force clawing its way back to strength and power.
Out of reach, always out of reach. Beyond the Green, the Red, or anything at all. Except for the Metal, but by then, it was too late.
It seeped into this world, a tiny corrupted seed that had sprouted into a tree that invaded all. One that would suck the Earth dry for its goals.
Swamp Thing felt the Clear shatter.
Not subverted. Destroyed. Fragments of fragments tossed to the waves.
The first to fall had been the Divided. A Parliament so new, so intertwined with the Green and the Grey that it had no need for an Avatar of its own. It had been vulnerable. Now, it served the Enemy.
The Metal had been next. Theirs had been a subversion born of arrogance. They alone had possessed the means to reach the Enemy, and they alone had sent their champion.
But Avatars were conduits. As they represented their Force on Earth, so to were they keys to access their Kingdoms.
The Rithm joined the Divided.
For years, the Parliaments waged war against each other, fighting to reclaim what was lost or halt the Enemy's advance. All was nearly lost. Only the Black's masterful trickery, turning an enemy agent into their Avatar, had saved the remaining Parliaments.
The Black Avatar destroyed the conduit of the Rithm and claimed the Avatar of the Grey for the Black before the Enemy could gain another foothold.
And then... nothing.
The Enemy stopped its advance. Paused its efforts. The War was not won or lost. It was a cease-fire. One where nothing could be done as the Enemy gathered its forces.
The Green must survive.
Life must continue.
Swamp Thing waited for war. Biding his strength. Laying his roots deep, deep into the Melt. War would come again.
The Green must survive.
Life must continue.
Then something changed.
An arrival from beyond the stars.
But this one was different. It did not fall to the Enemy as so many others had. It carried a land with it. A land free of taint. The Parliament of Limbs spoke of creatures and Life protected within the Jewel.
And the Clear started to float back together.
It was an Arc.
A vessel to carry the Green, the Grey, the Black, the White, the Red, the Haze, the Melt, and the still healing Clear beyond the stars. Beyond the Enemy's grasp.
The Green must survive.
Life must continue.
With the Avatar of the Black, Swamp Thing journeyed to this Arc, this Island. They separated. Her to destroy the Enemy's agents. He to build a home for the Parliaments.
Both failed.
Her, to the natives of this land.
He, because this land rejected the Green.
Over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over, Swamp Thing spread his seeds to the wind.
Dispersing himself only to rebuild. From his death, more Green would sprout. The Island rejected the Parliaments of Trees, of Limbs, of Stone, of Vapors, of Decay, and of Flames.
But it accepted him.
He built himself from this land's plants, from this Green that was not of The Green. He converted it, dispersed it, and rebuilt himself anew.
Like pollen spread to the wind, The Green covered this land.
But it could not become OF this land.
This land was wild. Deadly. It was nature at its most dangerous, untamed and wild. Free.
As he tried to influence this land, it influenced him.
The Rot flowed into him, through him, like tainted sap. It weakened and strengthened him. Making him of this land as he drowned in a lake of Rot and rebuilt himself from tainted leaves. But it was undirected and could not corrupt the will of the Avatar of Green.
It was the Blood which finally changed him. Made him more. Made him aware.
This land was not land.
This Island was no Island.
It was a graveyard.
Built on innumerable corpses of the same man.
Over and over and over and over and over and over, one man had thrown himself against the walls of worlds, splattering himself against them helplessly until they broke or he did.
The worlds broke first.
He carried the marks of those worlds with him in his soul as he found himself trapped once again.
A journey of fire, blood, and ash.
And when the end came, when it was time to reap the harvest, he turned from his prize.
Instead, he obsessed himself with this Island, this soul.
A gravestone of worlds.
A monument to a fool's journey. A story that would never reach its end.
The Blood told this.
This cruelly beautiful world rained blood.
From the beasts that fought and died, pitting themselves against each other and casting their bodies to the hungry ground.
From the ground, glutinously devouring the dead, feasting on the blood and feeding it grasping roots.
From the plants that grew from the red rain, beautifully deadly and poisonously tempting to the beasts.
From the White Mountains and the Pale Moon, who watched the bloody cycle.
The Blood whispered it all to him as his roots joined the others, greedily sucking up the Life and all it contained.
But Swamp Thing was of the Green.
He always remembered his mission.
As Rot twisted his form.
As roots drank Blood.
He never forgot.
The Green must survive.
Life must continue.
Even as this soul tried to drown him in Life and Freedom, he held on to the chains that tied him to the Parliaments.
Over and over and over and over and over and over he cast out to this land, seeking a home, an Arc for the Earth and all the Life it contained.
Not this soul's Life, Free and deadly as it was.
Life of the planet that had nurtured him.
So that some portion would not be consumed by the Enemy in its eternal war of oppression and domination.
The Green must survive.
Life must continue.
This land did not care.
One more world among many.
Another tombstone in the graveyard.
Its apathy was Swamp Thing's one boon.
It did not care. His efforts were his own. Their consequences were his own. If he perished, that was the result of himself. If he flourished, it was by his own hands.
In this bloody land, this soul, Freedom and Life were paramount, and neither cared to impede him.
He was Free to Live or Die.
As his seeds, seeds of The Green, spread to the wind, he saw it all.
From the tiniest blade of grass to the mightiest tree, Swamp Thing saw it all.
Swamp Thing could only control himself, but he could be everywhere. He burrowed into the ents, snaking under bark and making them one with him. Like a mangrove, he spread his roots wide and grew. And grew. And grew.
It was not for power.
It was to become one with this land.
It tried to assimilate him.
He tried to assimilate it.
It wanted him to be Free.
He wanted it to be of The Green.
It could not force Freedom.
He could not subjugate what was Free.
And so, the silent battle between the Avatar of the Green, the last hope of the Parliaments of Earth, and the world in Mikael's soul raged in an unending stalemate.
One side could wait. It had seen worlds fall. It was absolute.
The other could not. It had the patience, but not the time.
The Oppressor had moved, and Swamp Thing responded by doubling, tripling his efforts.
It had no effect.
Something had to give. Some new tactic. Some new opportunity.
The Green must survive.
Life must continue.
The opportunity came.
One that belonged to this land. A void to every sense but the most basic had come to this land. It would not have mattered to Swamp Thing, had it not been for one single fact.
Unlike the other voids in the tapestry, the dragons in the shape of women, this one was familiar.
The Parliament of Limbs remembered this one.
This 'Victoria Dallon.'
And so did the Parliament of Bones.
She was of the Earth, of the Parliaments.
She was of this Island, connected to Life and Freedom.
She would be the bridge. She would be the tether to bring the Parliaments to this Arc.
And she was accompanied by agents of the Oppressor.
Opportunity. Danger.
A gamble.
A choice.
As the Green marshalled, as Swamp Thing built himself one final time of all the strongest he could gather, he Saw with his Thousand Eyes the Island relish in choice.
In his Freedom, in his Life.
The Parliaments will survive.
Earth shall continue.
********
The plan was simple.
I was ninety-nine percent sure Mister Sinister was behind this entire debacle, either on his own or working for this 'Oppressor.' But we couldn't find him, so we needed to lure him out. His goal was either Pryor, baby-Cable, or the Phoenix Force.
No matter which it was, or if it was some shadowy third party, none of them wanted my Family and I to work with the heroes. They had invested too much into pitting us against each other for that.
When your enemy doesn't want you to do something, you do it.
By being reasonable, understanding, and defending myself with logic and facts, I would turn enemies into friends, and we'd turn our righteous fury on the true culprits.
The power of friendship shall win the day!
Or at least, that is what the enemy would think.
While a big part of the plan was to make peace with the X-men and their allies, that wouldn't actually find Pryor, Sinister, or whoever was behind it. If peace came from this meeting, it would be productive but ultimately a failure.
We'd still have nothing to go on in finding the kidnap victims and, as tension mounted with every day that passed, even my charming smile would fail in the face of desperation.
But the enemy didn't want a peaceful search either. Whoever did this was clever. They wouldn't overlook that some fool hero could get lucky and stumble on a clue. It happened often enough that they would want us distracted from fighting each other. Especially if Melina had been their real target all along.
They would not allow peace.
So, after I cast enough doubt around to get the heroes at least a little on my side, they had to do something. They probably had a contingency in place for such an occasion if they were as intelligent as I suspected.
Emma can't find them?
Have them wave a neon sign in front of her.
When I heard Emma's voice, I knew I had won.
Cyclops' eye blast? That was just icing on the cake.
I let myself be blasted against the walls of Artoria's hall, already fully healed by the time I hit it.
Unlimited power plus healing miracles equals OP. Plz, no nerf.
The question was, what now?
I didn't need to do anything. My wives were taking care of it. I could just lay here, be a potato, and do nothing. Wait for my name to be cleared.
Guardian changed things though.
Sinister was yesterday's news. The Shi'ar were a much bigger problem.
How to do this?
"What are you doing?" Superman asked, flying to interpose himself between me and Scott and the X-men.
"Maddie-Jean," Scott snarled, struggling to escape from the Kryptonian. "She called us. She escaped his island. He did it. He took them. He still has Nathan! Give me back my son!"
The rest of the X-men had started to spread out, and some heroes had interposed themselves between them and me, though they were shooting me and Melina suspicious looks.
I couldn't help it.
I laughed.
So that was how they were going to play it? I can work with this.
I always thought I could play the heel.
"Artoria," I said casually, sitting up, completely intact. I was still chuckling as I brushed imaginary dirt off myself. "Would you be a dear and start the trial?"
"Halls of White Justice," Artoria intoned solemnly, radiating a golden light.
Heroes flinched, and they tried to stop whatever she was doing.
Only to find they couldn't move.
Superman, Captain America, Gladiator, Iron Man, the X-men, the PRT heroes, the other League members, and Melina found themselves completely unable to move as if their bodies were no longer theirs.
"Mine is the Divine Right of Rule."
The entire building glowed in a pure white light as Artoria sat upon her throne once more.
The only reason I could move was because I was Free. Otherwise, even I would be bound by this place. My own power forcing my compliance.
We, who had acknowledged Artoria Pendragon as someone who had a right to judge us, could not oppose her will within the hall of justice.
"Chivalry demands justice. Let the Trial begin."
In FGO, Ehangwen was almost treated as a joke.
A mobile fortress turned into a boat, which was used to fire Rhongomyniad as the Noble Phantasm.
That wasn't what this Hall truly was.
It wasn't a Noble Phantasm based on defence, though it could act like one if she needed it. Artoria already had something like that. She, too, could summon Camelot if she were ever summoned as a Caster or Shielder class, so tied was she to that place.
This was not the Noble Phantasm of Caster, a Lancer, or a Shielder.
This was the Noble Phantasm, the crystallization of a legend, of a Ruler.
"Hall of the Once and Future King: Bright Ehangwen."
Boy, had I been surprised when she told me the actual ability of her summer NP.
To think, I whaled just for the bunny suit.
I felt cheated.
Give me an actual Ruler FGO! You moral cowards!
"It was a trap," Cyclops snarled.
One of many voices rising in protest.
"What is this, Mikael?" Superman, at least, was kind enough to ask.
"Relax," I chortled. "This isn't a trap. Just insurance in case any of you heroes got... excited. I'm sure you have a bunch of backups on the way. They won't be able to enter until the Trial ends, so sit back and watch the show."
"You have come before my court." Artoria declared, silencing the room as gold-green eyes stared impassively at Cyclops. "You have acknowledged my right to judge, yet you have breached the code of chivalry."
Cyclops tried to say something, but no words escaped. Artoria didn't allow them to.
The King was speaking, and the court must listen.
"You had a chance to prove your case," King Arthur offered in a voice of steely resolve. "When you failed, you attacked the defendant. By right as Ruler and judge, I sentence you. Before these witnesses, before this throne, before your own conscience. I sentence you."
The King's words slammed into the hero like arrows piercing his heart. He flinched, still held in place as his face contorted in a rictus of pain.
I honestly felt a bit bad for the guy.
He was a schmuck, sure, but he was trying to get his wife and kid back. Couldn't blame him for that.
It's too bad for him; I couldn't allow Artoria to finish him off.
"Your majesty," I said, stepping forward with a smile.
Gold-green eyes turned to me, staring at me with a blank intensity.
Yikes.
I was Free from Ehangwen's control, the only one in the room who could move and speak, but if I actively tried to stop Artoria, to undermine her Rule, she'd try and stop me. She had told me as much.
When she was a Ruler, she was impartial.
I had no plans of stopping her Trial. Just altering the punishment a bit.
"As the wronged party," I continued, unfazed by the King's look. "I have the right to weigh in on his punishment."
"Speak."
"Trial by combat," I said easily, not minding her brusk manner. My eyes flicked to Guardian, visibly trying to move without success. "He and his people believe I took his wife and child. Let him fight for them. He and his team."
"That is not justice."
"Justice will be met when I win," I said with a taunting smirk. "I shall stand alone and prove my innocence through combat."
Artoria did not say anything, staring into my eyes.
They were not the eyes of my wife.
They were the eyes of a king, judging not only my words and actions but the future and whether it would be best for her 'kingdom.'
That was the crux of this Noble Phantasm.
It did not empower Artoria in any direct way. Instead, it gave her the 'Right to Rule.'
Those who came to her for judgement became her kingdom. When they had agreed to let her arbitrate, everyone here had unknowingly become her subjects. A type of Geas. It was their own power turned against themselves, their souls.
As King, she had the right to decide who was guilty or innocent, but only as long as it conformed to 'justice.'
Cyclops had broken the rights of hospitality right in front of her when he attacked me, who was here under the flag of truce. She had seen his guilt and could sentence him as she liked.
The kidnapping case? She couldn't judge completely. Both sides of our argument had been based on circumstantial reasoning and hearsay. I thought mine had more logic to it. Scott believed his account was more reliable.
I was petitioning to wrap both 'trials' up at once. Cyclops' sentence' would be carried out because I was the one to choose the punishment and it would settle the original issue.
My solution would be the best for her 'kingdom,' consisting of everyone here.
"Clear the hall," Artoria ordered, and everybody moved.
The King spoke, so it became so.
Within seconds, only the X-men and I were in the hall's center; everyone else, Melina included, was along the walls.
I gave my maiden a quick grin. She had known the original plan, but this deviation was unexpected.
I could see how much she wanted to facepalm as she rolled her eyes at me.
"Before these witnesses. Before this throne. On my name and my Hall," Artoria looked around the room before focusing on the X-men and meeting every one of their eyes. "Justice will be done."
And that was it.
They were free.
I could see the moment they could control their bodies again as they all stumbled and shifted from the sudden freedom. They eyed me warily, wondering what I was up to.
Artoria watched it all, not interfering.
I smiled and crossed my hands behind my back.
If I had known this would happen, I would have worn a priest's outfit, but you work with what you got.
"Rejoice," I told the X-men, giving them my most winning smile. "Your wish has been granted. I am here. No one will interfere. You think I have your son? Try and take him back."
The laser missed me by half an inch as I tilted my head.
"You know," I said conversationally, as Nightcrawler appeared behind me in a 'BANF' of displaced air. I ducked under a spin kick as he 'BANF'ed away again, letting Wolverine come in, claws extended. "Do you all actually think I did it? Or do you just need someone to blame?"
"You don't mess with a man's family, bub," Wolverine grunted as he slashed and slashed at me.
I weaved, ducked and twisted away from the man's weapons. It wasn't that the short Canadian wasn't good. He was. I was just better.
I might not have 'super speed' but I was still faster than him.
The air shifted again, and I ducked another one of Nightcrawler's attacks. He had another trick this time, though, and Rogue fell on top of me. I stepped aside, but she twisted, arms reaching to grab me.
I let her.
Her ungloved hand touched my face as I smiled down at her.
Her eyes widened as nothing happened.
I couldn't resist.
I headbutted her.
The heroine stumbled back, blinking in pain.
Colossus took her place, trying to grab me with his steel hands and hold me down for the others.
I jumped, flipping lightly and landing on his shoulder, only to slip down his back to place him between me and Magik. The beam of... some sort of energy hit the mutant and refracted harmlessly off his shiny form.
Did she have magic that didn't have friendly fire? Or was it just not effective on metal? Either way, I was impressed.
A ranged character shooting into melee must consider these things, or they'd roll with disadvantage.
Whoops, it looks like the wizards were going to cast more spells. What sort of BBEG would I be if I didn't act appropriately dramatic?
But how to go about it?
Decisions, decisions.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
A localized cloud hovered over our heads, and rain started to fall as Storm created her own weather within Ehangwen. Wind picked up, not targeting me but the X-men as it blew them away. With the area clear of everyone but me, the lightning fell.
Bolts of super hot electricity fell on and around me, the sound as deafening as the light was blinding.
I couldn't dodge in time.
My skin chard. My nerves lit up with pain. My eyes boiled in their sockets.
I smiled as the glacier formed around me, meter-thick ice growing in an instant as the water from the rain gave it a boost. Iceman kept up, growing my glacial prison thicker and thicker.
'Immortal Juggernaut' or 'Crouching Tiger, Hidden Badass?'
Indeed, the hardest choices in life are those we force on ourselves.
Eh, fuck it. A little bit of both.
I slowly walked through the glacier, my smile as warm as the pyromancy burning in my core. I was completely healed when I stepped free, steam rising from my body in slow wafts of air.
"Now that the warm-up is out of the way," I said conversationally, unable to stop the pun and not wanting to. "Shall we begin?"
Throughout the little skirmish, I kept my hands behind my back.
Yorokobe, bitches.
********
Duck.
Slash.
Block.
Slash.
Stab.
Retreat.
Charge.
Jump.
Slash.
Hippolyta was fighting for her life.
An ent tried to wrap its roots around her leg, and she turned it into kindling with a slam of her shield.
Hippolyta was fighting for her sisters.
Swamp Thing took the opportunity to rain deadly spores on her. Holding her breath, Hippolyta threw herself away as Penelope cast a spell to clear the air in a torrent of wind. Some still landed on her, and her supernaturally enhanced skin turned grey, impeding her movements.
Hippolyta was fighting for her new home.
She threw herself back onto the offensive, sword slashing out at a wall of thorns, shearing through them and stopping the hail of barbs. Her youngest gave her a nod of acknowledgement as they worked together to free Artemis from a cage of steal-like wood.
Hippolyta was fighting for their pride.
The three of them barely had time to cut through a portion of the wall, giving her sister Amazon just enough room to escape before she was squeezed to death.
They separated again, Artemis going to aid Diana as they tried to cut off the Scarlet Aeonia without succumbing to its Rot. Donna retreated to back up Penelope, defending her as she wielded the Bounded Field against their sieging enemy.
Hippolyta was fighting for the right to survive in a world that had left her people behind millennia ago.
And she loved it.
Damned to Hades and back, but she loved it.
Her skin was rotting. She was covered in sap and blood. Her new home had been all but destroyed already. Even if they survived today, all their work from the last few weeks had been undone by this foe.
It was disheartening. It was scary.
Even with all her experience, Hippolyta still felt a trill of fear run through her every time one of her sisters came close to losing their life at the hands of this elemental. They had lost so many already. The idea of losing even one more had kept her up at night.
And yet...
And yet...
Hippolyta hadn't felt this alive in years.
Not since she had left her land to explore Man's World, the first Wonder Woman in a time of world wars, and did battle with the evil men of that age.
Leviathan had been a disaster. One that had cost her too many of her friends and family.
But it hadn't been a fight, not really.
The beast had been a tsunami. Deadly. Sudden. And they had been almost completely defenceless, unable to fight back as it stayed miles from shore and wore them down as water did rock over centuries.
Leviathan had been a calamity.
Swamp Thing was an enemy.
A foe that could be fought. That could be slain.
Dangerous. Devastating. Deadly. But Hippolyta's sword could reach him.
Five minutes. That was what the girl had asked for.
Hippolyta loved every second of it.
And she wasn't the only one.
Thetis's eyes were alight in a way they hadn't been in centuries as a vine stabbed through her thigh. She tore it from the main body and used it to impale the overgrowth in turn.
Andrea's smile was bloodthirsty as yellow flowers bloomed, raining lighting down on her. Her shield crackled with the energy, her arm charring. As the fulmination faded, she threw it, sawing through the deadly bouquet.
Even Donna smirked as she deflected blades of sharpened grass, twice her height and three times her width, away from the priestess.
Only two people didn't seem as enamoured with the battle.
Diana, trying to tear through the red flower that made the giant's head, and the woman responsible for keeping all of them alive.
"Fucking muscle heads," Amelia grumbled as she reknit skin and sinew for an Amazon who had lost an arm.
As soon as she was healed, the woman threw herself against the moving mountain again. The biokinetic flew towards another injured combatant, coughing blood and chunks of lung. As Amelia flew, her eyes fired beams of heat, carving through the ents surrounding her newest patients.
"You girls are worse than the X-men, I swear. What makes you think inhaling glowing silver spores is a good idea? Huh?"
"Didn't, cough, have a choice," Hippolyta heard Artemisia say to the healer as she took a deep breath.
"And throwing your sword at a tree?" Panacea asked sarcastically. "Did you choose that?"
"Seemed like a good idea at the time," the Amazon smirked.
"Don't think because you're hot, I won't give you diabetes if you back talk," Amelia snorted as she finished her work.
"You won't because you'll be too busy," Artemisia said, pulling the healer in for a quick kiss filled with tongue. "Find me when this is done. I haven't been this excited in centuries."
Then Artemisia was off, flying to pick up her weapon and carving through the army of walking trees.
Amelia stared dumbly for a half second before regaining her faculties and stomping off towards her next patient, face red as she grumbled about amazons, thighs and abs.
Hippolyta felt her smirk turn into a genuine smile for a second as she carved through a wall of ice summoned by white flowers.
Artemisia had been so... listless for so long now. Even before the destruction of Themyscira, she hadn't taken a lover in centuries and had barely even touched her hobbies. The once great sculptor had not so much as whittled in almost a thousand years.
This was what her people needed if they were to continue.
Her people loved peace. There was no doubt about that. They had lived for millennia without a war or conflict, resting and recovering after Man's World had inflicted atrocities on them.
They had no desire for conquest. No wish to kill and pillage. Themyscira had been a paradise of peace and beauty.
And it had cost them.
Hippolyta had thought Mikael a fool when he called them pets. He had been the typical male, she had thought. Looking down on her and her sisters for their lack of desire to conquer the world, for only wanting to live in peace. He had felt them weak because they entrusted their safety to the gods and had no wish to go against them.
She now saw what he truly meant.
Mikael hadn't been criticizing their desire for peace. He did not call them pets because they were women or weak or had no wish for war.
Mikael had called them pets because that was what they had become.
A pet isn't just subservient to its masters. It is dependent on them.
Food. Water. Shelter. Pleasure. It was all handed to the Amazons on a silver platter. They had no fear. No want that went unmet. Even the few duties required of them by the gods were things easily accomplished.
The Amazons had survived their traumatic fates, but that was all they did.
They survived.
They did not live.
They had traded one form of slavery for another. One on padded cushions, plentiful food, and less onerous demands. They lived in luxury. In peace.
And it had almost cost them everything.
A dog raised with gentle hands and luxurious treats cannot survive when cast onto the streets.
Left without a master in a world that had passed them by, the Amazons had been adrift. Even their choice to come to this Island had been because of a message from their goddesses rather than any decision of their own.
Mikael had let them settle on his land, but that was it. He offered no aid except knowledge. He promised nothing and demanded nothing, no matter what he joked about.
Whether they lived or died would depend solely on their efforts.
And the Amazons needed that.
They needed something to take pride in once more. They needed a way to tell themselves they were still Amazons.
They needed a will to live.
New Themiscira was destroyed? They would rebuild. Over and over again if that is what it took.
They, who had built their civilization as women in a world for men, would carry on as they always had and always would. They'd fight. They'd live.
A thorn pierced Hippolyta's thigh, and it bloomed, thorns sprouting from her flesh as her leg was covered in blood-red roses.
The Queen of the Amazons cut off her leg in a heartbeat, the limb falling to the wooded ground and disappearing among the writhing branches.
Hippolyta's teeth grit from the pain, yet her smile never faded as her blood showered the land.
They were Amazons.
And a demented dryad would not be the end of the Amazons.
"Mother!" Diana cried, retreating to aid the injured Queen.
"I shall live," Hippolyta said, closing the wound with one of the only spells she had ever learned.
She simply didn't have the talent for magic some of her sisters did, but with enough practice, she could learn one or two tricks. And she had plenty of time to practice.
"Where is that girl," Wonder Woman grumbled as the red flower, the Scarlet Bloom, opened for the second time in the fight.
It was beautiful. It's multi-layered petals glinting in the light like fire.
They knew what came next. They had seen it in the battle against Melania. They had seen it once before today.
"Retreat!" Hippolyta ordered her sisters, and, as one, they scattered to the sky.
The flower bloomed, butterflies filling the air as red Rot covered the sky.
Three of her sisters were too slow to escape, and they bent over, sickness spilling from them as they started to die from the inside out.
They would have perished had Panacea not been there.
With a speed that didn't pale one bit before the Amazons, the healer flew towards the dying women, scooping them up in her arms, already healing them as she carried them away from the red cloud of death.
The Rot could not hurt the healer, lacking as it was its spiritual component. Her power turned every particle that tried to infect her into harmless powder.
Thanks to the biokinetic and the knowledge Mikael had shared, the Amazons had yet to experience a casualty. Without them, they would have held on for the five minutes requested, but it would have been a pyrrhic victory.
But it would have been a victory, nonetheless.
Because they had one more aid.
Medea the cat inhaled, and every butterfly, every infected molecule of Rot that floated in the air, was sucked into the black hole that was her mouth.
If Mikael's knowledge and Panacea's healing were the reason the Amazons hadn't lost anyone, they could fight the monster in the first place because of the fat cat. Otherwise, it would just fill the air with its deadly spores, and they would have no choice but to flee before it.
The tubby floof wasn't even really fighting, just eating.
It seemed to think every deadly airborne pathogen was a delicious snack and eagerly consumed it all, face set in a smugly satisfied cat smirk.
"When this is over, she's getting her own Sandworm," Hippolyta said with a chuckle.
To think the pet of the Elden Lord, the fat cat who demanded leftovers and tummy rubs, was so formidable.
"Go to Panacea," Diana told her mother. "She'll heal you. Rejoin us after."
"You forget yourself, daughter. I am still Queen. This will not stop me. T'is but a scratch," Hippolyta denied, launching back at Swamp Thing.
She didn't need both legs to kick ass.
She didn't see Diana's brow twitch at her words before she rejoined the battle as well.
For a while, Hippolyta lost herself in a glorious battle once more.
Lost herself in the thrill, the euphoria of combat that she hadn't felt in so long.
Ah, she realized in a brief moment of Insight.
This is what Mikael desired. What this entire land was built on.
Freedom and Life.
It was deadly. It was ugly. It was painful.
But that was the beauty of it.
In overcoming that challenge. In standing up after you are knocked down.
In finding the beauty beyond the pain. The joy of life in the fear of death.
Success after failure.
To see a mountain and want to climb it, not because there was a reward at the top but because you wanted to pit yourself against it.
It was such a human desire.
In that brief moment of clear Insight, Hippolyta could understand why a version of her daughter loved the man. Why she could settle for being one of many lovers.
Then, the Insight was gone as battle claimed all her focus.
But all things must end.
The good and the bad.
The pain and the beauty.
Everything is transient.
Even an Avatar of the Green.
The end began when plants burst from the ground.
It was almost unnoticeable, lost among the tangle of all the other plant growth, if not for the fact that it didn't immediately try and attack the women fighting Swamp Thing.
It started as long grass, braiding itself together in thick strands that wrapped the moving mountain's enormous legs in their coiling embrace. From the grass, seeds burst, and trees grew in a tangle of wood and leaves.
Here, the Amazons noticed the change and retreated, ready for a new trick.
But it was not targeting them.
Swamp Thing was not idle. Lightning and ice crackled along his body, freezing and shattering this new growth as it held him tight.
The forest writhed in civil war as two powerful beings tried to control it.
One was the elemental, the champion of The Green.
The other only controlled what she grew herself, but she had the greater claim, for she was of this land.
This Island, this soul, would never submit to anyone.
But there were some it cared for. So it helped her.
Even as Swamp Thing resisted, growing his own plants to counter this new attacker, she grew around him. A long strand of grass that grew no matter how tough the battle.
It wrapped. It coiled. It wreathed itself in massive, twisting vines and gnarled wooden limbs.
Hippolyta realized she was staring at a dragon.
An eastern dragon, long and sinuous, made of wood, grass, and vines. It grew around Swamp Thing, wrapping him in its coils. Its head was the last to form, larger than their village had been. It was a thing of wooden fangs, green scales, and eyes lit with a purple glow.
"Sorry for the wait," Glory Girl said as she arrived beside the watching Amazons. "Took longer than I hoped to get their attention. Most of the Family are off the Island."
With the new arrival, Swamp Thing's effort to escape the coiling dragon redoubled. The scarlet flower bloomed, releasing its deadly Rot right in the creature's mouth.
The dragon bit down, swallowing the crimson flower, Rot and all, as it continued to grow. Already, it was longer than Swamp Thing's mountainous body, but with each second that passed, its body grew thicker. Wider.
Even as lightning, frost, rot, and all manner of other attacks pelted it, the dragon just healed and grew.
"That's Tsunade, isn't it," Amelia asked, flying to her sister's side.
"Yeah," Glory Girl nodded, an awkward look on her face.
"Fuck," Panacea spat, reaching out to Hippolyta and starting the process of regrowing her leg. Weariness overtook the Queen as energy was sapped from her to fuel the process. "She shouldn't be here in her condition."
"There weren't many options at. Tsunade said she could handle it," Victoria said awkwardly. "She's not very far along. And she didn't come alone."
"Who else is here?"
"Cilla."
Only when the shadow passed over the sky did Hippolyta realize that the wooden dragon wasn't the killing blow.
It was the second, much smaller beast that fell from the sky, landing on the 'decapitated' head of Swamp Thing, where the Scarlet Bloom once resided, that was to do Thanatos' work.
This dragon was the size of a large house rather than a mountain and of a more western style with two wings and four limbs.
Despite her fantastic eyesight, Hippolyta had trouble making out the details of the thing. It both did and didn't have scales. Its shape was indistinct as if its body was made of a grey mist instead of flesh and blood. Its scales might be metallic silver, or it could be covered in fluffy white fur, or that fur could be innumerable tiny scythes.
Hippolyta couldn't tell.
All she could say was if she had to, she'd much rather fight the wood dragon the size of a mountain than this... Hades wrought, hauntingly beautiful creature.
Thankfully, she didn't have to look at it for long as it tore itself a hole in the moving mountain, digging with claw, and fang, and wings of Lifehunt scythes.
The mountain shook, vines, trees, and plants falling in an avalanche of dead plant matter as Priscilla carved her way through Swamp Thing's constructed body.
Even as the Avatar of the Green tried to fight the creature within himself, the wood dragon continued its assault from the outside, tearing great chunks from the beast.
But it wasn't enough.
No matter how the two dragons tore the massive humanoid plant apart, it regrew and fought back, desperately struggling to free itself from its coiling prison.
Swamp Thing would not die so easily.
"IT'S JUST PLANTS!" Panacea suddenly yelled to the battling figures, startling the Amazons, who had been reduced to spectators in the battle between kaiju. "IT'S NOT HIS REAL BODY!"
Again, Hippolyta realized.
They were watching someone fight their battles again.
This wouldn't do.
"AMAZONS!" The Queen shouted. Despite the weariness, pain and fatigue, her voice didn't waver. "CHARGE!"
It was a simple war cry, but Hippolyta didn't think she had anything in her for something more.
Her sisters didn't care. They rose once more, joining the fight again despite injuries and fatigue.
As they started cutting once more into the plant elemental, the back of the wood dragon's neck erupted.
Hippolyta saw a giant of a woman, skinless and green, as if her muscles were made from bone and grass, jump from the suddenly inert dragon.
The titan of a woman flew backwards in an enormous leap, landing with boom in the crater of what was once New Themyscira.
Then the giant sat down, crossed her legs and started to meditate. Her forehead glowed a bright purple as lines spread across her form from a diamond pattern on her skull.
Hippolyta could see no more. Swamp Thing had taken advantage of his dragon prison, which was no longer moving, and was trying to grow through the gaps in the coils, a new body forming outside the confinement.
The Amazons were there to stop him.
Like a steel wall, they blocked his escape, cutting even the slighted blade of grass that wiggled free from the dragon's body.
Aided by Priscilla still rampaging around within his body, they would not allow this being who had destroyed their new home the slightest chance of survival.
Hippolyta, dedicated to seeing that Swamp Thing could not escape, almost missed the opportunity.
The titanic woman, over twenty meters tall, had risen from meditation and approached the battle once more. Her steps went unnoticed in the clamour of battle, but Hippolyta caught the glowing purple light of her diamond as Tsunade ran up to the leg of the moving mountain.
Glory Girl, blasting away at Swamp Thing with her own heat vision and smashing vines as they approached, did not notice the giant woman below her.
Victoria did notice as the side of the monstrous construction exploded, an enormous force blasting open the body of the coiled dragon as a human-sized figure made of vines flew through the air toward her. Arms outstretched and grasping for her in desperation.
Hippolyta was there, sword swinging to sever the vines that connected Swamp Thing to his mountain-sized body.
Tsunade was there, jumping with enough force to crater the ground as her fist plowed into Swamp Thing's main body, shattering it into splinters and wood pulp.
Then Priscilla was there, her claws like scythes that seemed to suck in the life force of everything around her as she cut through a seed the size of a human head.
All Glory Girl saw was the Avatar of the Green collapse, inches from her face.
The Amazons released a cheer of victory as the mountain fell.
********
Emma watched, keeping her mind split as she observed the world from their position on top of the Jewel. Without touching Mikael, she needed to be outside their home for her powers to pass through the dimensional barriers.
Half her focus was on searching for Pryor or Sinister. She had met both in her last life, so she was relatively familiar with their mental signatures. So long as they weren't too different in this world, she'd be able to find them as soon as they poked their heads up.
The other half was focused on her husband's meeting with the heroes.
It was going well.
They had entered Artoria's Noble Phantasm and acknowledged her authority. Even Guardian had been content to watch without interfering, using it as a way to evaluate the abilities of the people of Earth.
Emma had spent a few minutes finding out what she could from his mind.
It was well-defended, so she couldn't get everything without touching Mikael, but the gist she could get was that he had been called because of the X-men's previous experience with the Phoenix Force and the Shi'ar Empire. He was here to ensure no Dark Phoenix emerged and would fight Mikael and Melina to ensure that didn't happen.
Emma trusted Mikael to handle the alien and the implications of the Shi'ar being here, even as he convinced the heroes around him of his innocence.
Or at least gave them enough doubt that they wouldn't attack immediately.
'Anything yet?' Yoruichi whined through their mental connection. She was sprawled out on the Jewel beside Emma.
'Should she have anything, she would have told us,' Ranni chastised. 'Patience, cat. Patience.'
'But I'm bored. The Titty Queen is going to have all the fun if things break down.'
'And if they don't, we will,' Robin responded.
'The anticipation before the battle is like hunger. It enhances the meal,' Scathach said philosophically.
Emma didn't think Yoruichi needed to be told that. She was one of the most experienced and oldest of the Family. She just liked playing the part of the cat.
Much like Mikael.
'Wanna spar while we wait?' Yoruichi asked the celt.
'Please do not,' Glynda sighed. 'I do not wish to have to clean up another mess. I imagine there will be plenty of others that will need my attention.'
'Not if noth-'
'Quite!' Emma ordered, and her fellow Chosen immediately complied.
Emma focused all her attention on the Hall and its inhabitants. Mikael had done it, and things were breaking up peacefully.
If the enemy was targeting Melina, internal strife, or some sort of battle between her Family and this world's heroes, they wouldn't allow things to end this way.
But what would they do? Stage an attack on the conference? Use their shapeshifter or whatever they had to further frame them? Or do something else to instigate dissent?
Emma received her answer as her mind fluttered over the X-men.
They were huddled in a group, talking with Professor Xavier through telepathy and briefing him on the situation, when a second telepathy interrupted their communication.
'SCOTT!'
'Maddie?' Her ex-husband replied back with a start. 'Is that you? How are you doing this? Where are you? What happened? Where's Nathan?'
'I don't have much time,' Madelyne Pryor said in a hurry, her mental voice fading in and out. 'I barely escaped. They still have our son.'
'Who?' Wolverine asked. Trust Logan to focus on the critical question.
'The Elden Lord. He took us. Needs us for something to do with the Phoenix Force. I don't know what. He will spin some lies, but I found out the truth. I'm...' Here, Pryor paused as if she couldn't believe her next words herself. 'I'm Jean Grey. I never died. Just lost my memories. That's why he needs me.'
Emma could feel the disbelief, fear, concern, and love radiate from that mental communication, and it was all she could do not to gag.
What had she ever seen in that man? Scott Summers didn't just believe the dumb bitch's words. He was retroactively validating his decisions based on her words alone. Ignoring all the red flags, this should be raising.
At the least, the others retained some skepticism, even if they would go along with it for now.
'I can't keep this up,' Pryor said, strain in her mental voice. 'I'm on his Island. It's all I can do to send this. Kill him. If you destroy his human body, he has to open the Island to build another. That's how you can get in and rescue us. Please, Scott. Please save us-'
Emma actually did retch, bile filling her at the thought of once loving someone who would fall for something so... stupid.
But that had been someone else, she told herself. Not her. She wasn't that Emma Frost. She was the woman born from that woman's corpse.
And she had a duty to her husband.
'I'm sending the location,' Emma told Raven.
'Got it,' the Demon Lord said simply as she consumed the Family in shadow, teleporting them to where Emma had traced Pryor's mind.
It was a doorway, a portal to a pocket dimension, that the clone had stepped out of to make the mental call. She was flanked on both sides by mutant guards, members of Sinister's Mauraders.
'You can kill the man,' Emma told the group as they emerged from a pool of shadow behind the trio before they could return through the portal. 'Don't kill the woman.'
The trio didn't stand a chance.
A barbed spear pierced Harpoon's chest, the cloned mutant not even having time to scream before his head was destroyed by Yoruichi's kick. Diana had already knocked Pryor unconscious, slinging the woman over her shoulder and into Raven's shadow.
The third person there, Mystique, was also knocked unconscious. Robin stood over the blue-skinned woman, eyeing her curiously.
'Why not? Are you going to try and get Mikael to fuck her, too?' Yoruichi said crudely.
Emma's eye twitched in annoyance as she let Artoria, Melina, and Mikael know they had their target. Or at least one of them.
'Because she'll spill everything we want once Mikael frees her from that necklace of hers,' Emma explained. 'That's Mystique, a shapeshifter. The original. Not a clone like the other. She's likely the one that helped frame us. She's being possessed by a psychic entity in that necklace. We get her, we clear our name.'
'Fair enough,' Yoruichi shrugged, throwing the unconscious woman into Raven's shadow as well. 'What's on the other side of this portal.'
'I don't know,' Emma answered. 'It's a separate dimension entirely. Probably made to hide from Cerebro. You'll be going in blind, but expect heavy resistance. Sinister has had centuries to build his hideout.'
'Sounds fun,' Scathach chuckled.
'Our priority is the child,' Diana said sternly. 'As well as any other prisoners. Raven? You are in charge of finding them and keeping them safe. We'll deal with everything else.'
'Understood,' the goth nodded, turning back into shadows and sliding through the portal.
They gave her a few seconds head start before following in after her.
It was a lab.
Emma didn't know why she expected differently.
Long halls, sterilized white, filled with cameras and steel doors lining the corridor.
And guns. Lots of guns.
As soon as they stepped through the portal, the machine gun turrets opened fire on them.
It barely shot three bullets before Yoruichi had reduced it to scrap.
The Family advanced, spreading out through the facility in a tide of violence and destruction.
Yoruichi, Ranni, Diana, Glynda, Medea, and Scathach each chose a direction, the massive complex giving them all the chance to fight their own battles.
Emma and Robin remained behind beside the portal. Both to secure a retreat if needed because they didn't have to move to be part of the battle.
Emma could finally feel the minds of everyone here, and she was still powered by her husband's Command Seal. She tore through mind after mind, leaving bodies behind as the consciousnesses that controlled them turned into so many mental rags.
But something was off.
Emma was encountering a lot more resistance than expected. Sinister had psychics on his team, certainly, but not enough to stand up against her, backed by her husband's power.
So why was she forced to go one mind at a time instead of controlling them all simultaneously? Something about the people here was resisting her. Something more than psychics.
Emma puzzled over the quandary as she and her fellow Chosen tore this lair to shreds.
A veritable army of clones, genetically engineered monsters, and robots was hidden within this base.
A monument to a man ready to take on the world.
And it meant almost nothing.
This wasn't a fight. This was a slaughter.
The only reason Sinister had been a problem had been because they couldn't find him. Now that they had, he was finished.
Emma relished in the feeling of power, of victory, as her sisters tore Mister Sinister's lab to pieces, minute by minute.
This was seriously getting her motor running. She'd have to pick up where she left off with her husband. Anyone trying to clam-jam her again would get a very sudden and violent lobotomy.
'If you find Sinister, let me know,' Medea reminded them as she rained magic on two clones of Riptide. 'I don't want to miss the chance to experiment with my curses because you all got excited. Right, Yoruichi?'
'Hey,' the shinigami protested playfully. 'Why are you singling me out?'
'Because you are going so fast you barely pay attention to who you're pummeling,' Robin deadpanned.
'So is Scatahch!'
'I know exactly who I have slain,' the celt replied haughtily.
'But-'
'I have the child,' Raven interrupted Yoruichi, and Emma focused on that connection to see through the Demon Lord's eyes.
Sure enough, Nathan Summers was in Pride's arms as the four-eyed woman stared at the infant in disgust.
'Pride, take him to Tsunade,' Robin ordered. 'We'll want her and Mikael to check him over before we return him and his mother.'
'Fine,' Pride pouted as she disappeared, grumbling about little snot rags.
'Emma,' Ranni's voice echoed through the channel. Something about it sent a shiver down the White Queen's spine. 'Thou should witness this.'
It took barely an instant before the mutant was watching through the goddess' eyes.
She almost didn't recognize Sinister.
Gone was the imposing yet controlled man she remembered. A mind so formidable that even when she faced it in her last life, she had never been assured of her victory over him in a head-to-head contest.
In the place of Nathaniel Essex was a... thing.
A monstrous creature of bloated flesh, weeping blood from open sores. Seven limbs threw themselves at Ranni's dolls, claws and cloven hooves smashing porcelain to splinters. Innumerable eyes covered the beastly body, blinking in and out of focus as he howled and snarled.
He was still shaped vaguely like a man, but one that had been crossed with some sort of bloated pig.
Emma could feel the creature's mind. It retained the sinister intelligence of the man, but the control, the willpower of the man who had lived for centuries, was gone. Intelligent but unfocused.
Where once was a man capable of waiting centuries, of manipulating generations of heroes and villains to ensure his plans come to fruition, he was a beast. A cross between man and monster.
Emma felt a trill of fear.
Not for the monster that was once a mutant.
For what it meant.
She spread her mind through the facility. No longer attacking the blood-drunk beings within, the source of their resistance now known, she was focused solely on gathering information.
She saw them. Hundreds of them. Feasting on bloody flesh. Grunting as they tore each other apart.
Being slaughtered and bled like pigs.
An ocean of Blood.
Mikael was not going to like this.
********
Man, I loved this.
I ducked under a blast of red energy, flattening myself against the ground, then sprang in a flip that landed me on Iceman's glacial shoulders. He tried to freeze me in place, but I was already gone, delivering a flying kick to Storm's stomach.
This fight served a purpose. Not only did it delay time for Emma and the rest of my wives to get the kidnap victims and capture or kill Sinister, but it also played into Gladiator's weakness.
He alone could account for about half of the Shi'ar Empire's martial forces, but his abilities depended entirely on his confidence. Forced to helplessly watch things play out, knowing he could do nothing to help the allies he was called by, Gladiator was bound to be feeling the pressure. If he decided to start shit after this, I'd feed him to Medea.
My position in the air left me open to Nightcrawler teleporting behind me. He wasn't alone. Collossus fell like a ton of steel, driving me to the floor with his weight.
I didn't have time to dodge, so I fell with his massive bulk.
I hit the ground back first, spine snapping and skull shattering. Blood and grey matter splattered the floor.
I grinned.
My hands were planted beside my head for leverage. The Russian mutant had a moment of realization when he noticed my feet on his chest before I kicked back up like a frog. The massive body hit the hall's ceiling, and Colossus fell back down with an earth-shaking crash.
I was already on my feet again, fending off a flurry of attacks from an angry Canadian midget.
Yes, this fight served a purpose.
But it was also damned fun.
When was the last time I had actually enjoyed a battle?
Training with my wives was always enjoyable, but it wasn't an actual battle, no matter how brutal we got.
Not my fight against the gods. Trigon had been a contest of schemes, not skill. And nothing in Bloodborne had been enjoyable, too consumed as I was by the fear of what I had to do.
Wolverine was one of the most overpowered characters in Marvel comics. Not in his potential for destruction, though that remained considerable, but in his skill and the sheer potency of his healing factor. He could, and had, shrugged off a nuke before.
Unless I started using the godslaying blade, I wouldn't be killing him, no matter how many times I ripped out his heart. On top of that, he was easily one of the most skilled hand-to-hand fighters this planet had to offer. Fighting the little man was fun. Incredibly so.
Now, if only...
Ah, there we go.
I allowed three adamantine claws to pierce my bicep, twisting my arm to the side to drag them away so I had an opening to throw the mutant over my shoulder and into Rogue.
That freed me up to throw myself away from a rain of icicles.
And right into Magik's sword, plunging into my heart.
Perfect.
Horah Loux. That had been the last fight I had truly loved. A pure joy. A celebration of violence and skill.
I was facing a type of Saitama problem. I was too strong for the fights I would enjoy. But I was also too weak to truly be unrivalled. I straddled a line, but still, I didn't regret it.
I would never be able to have this much fun if I had...
Never mind. Focus on the here and now.
I staggered back, and Illyana Rasputina tried to pull the blade free.
She failed.
Her eyes widened as I tore it from her grasp, still trapped in my heart.
Let's see... The Soulsword was a magical blade designed to counter magic, almost like Rule Breaker, and made from Illyana's life force and the eldritch energy of Limbo, but I knew it could have other wielders.
Hmmm, life force. Magic. Eldritch energy. I should be able to...
Ah. There we go.
The Soulsword turned a blinding white as I pulled it from my still-beating heart.
"Well, now," I chuckled at the horror on Magik's face. "Thank you for this. I am much better with a blade than I am with my hands."
And I was. I was good at hand-to-hand. Very good.
But I had conquered worlds with a sword.
"Round two?" I asked innocently as the X-men stared at me in grim determination.
Yes. This was what it meant to be a heel. Someone you loved to hate. The casual arrogance. The swagger.
If I wasn't careful, I'd put on a dark cloak and start muttering about 'shadows' in an edgy voice.
Thankfully, I hadn't gone full Chuuni. I was just having fun.
I laughed as my blade met Logan's claws, the clinking of metal on metal familiar music to my ears.
'Mikael.' Emma's voice echoed in my mind.
Ah, my fun was coming to an end.
'What's up? You find them?' I asked as I used the flat of my blade to deflect more of Cyclops' beams and then carved through a pillar of ice.
'We did. But we found something else.'
'Anything I need to know about?'
I laughed out loud again as, in a bid to reclaim the sword, Nightcrawler and Magik teleported behind me on both sides to try and grab my arms.
I jumped, forming a platform like Torrent under my feet as I backflipped.
I tried to stop myself.
I really did.
But I couldn't.
The temptation was too much for a mere mortal like me.
As I flipped over her, I smacked Magik in the ass with the flat of her own sword.
'Boars. Hundreds of them.'
'Boars?' I asked, confused.
I don't remember anything about boars being related to Sinister in the comics. There were a few boar-like mutants, though.
Logan was good. He was an outstanding fighter. All the X-men were individually, and they worked increadibly well as a team.
But they were no Malenia, Blade of Miquella
I had the room to talk to my wife even as I fended off the hero team with my sword.
'From the Island,' Emma said grimly.
I almost asked 'which boars.' Killer boars were pretty common in Fromsoft's games.
But then I remembered Superman's question.
'Batman says it is called Sanguine? Made to replicate Elixir's power.'
My blood froze.
All joy left me.
Magik fired a bolt of energy at me, point blank. I dodged. Her sword impaled her knee to the ground.
She screamed.
I didn't have time for this.
The X-men were saying something.
I didn't care.
Logan lunged. I let his claws sink into my lungs.
I didn't need to breathe.
My hands formed their own draconic claws. They impaled him back.
Crystal grew from within him, lifting Wolverine up and holding him as more burst from his skin as I locked his metal skeleton in place.
He was roaring in pain, but I didn't have time for that.
I grabbed Nightcrawler by his tail when he tried to teleport Magik away.
I filled him with so much lighting that he started to smoke.
I didn't have time for this.
I teleported behind Rogue, grabbed her arm, and teleported again behind Iceman.
I held them together until their screaming stopped, then I let them fall to the ground.
Colossus tried to stop me. I grabbed one of his hands and squeezed. Metal bent.
He tried to punch me with the other. Chaos Flame turned metal black.
I didn't have fucking time for this.
Storm tried to put out the flames unsuccessfully.
I jumped, and my hand was around her neck.
I slammed her skull into the ground.
Only Cyclops was left.
He was blasting me with everything he had, yelling in anger, pain, and rage.
We didn't have fucking time for this.
I ran through his lasers as they carved chunks from me.
My hand was over his face, his visor crumbling in my grasp as I covered every inch of his skull, but his nose and ears in glintstone crystal so dense it would take days for him to cut himself free.
"This is over," I ordered the room. "If I wanted anyone dead, I would have killed them. If I wanted to kidnap someone, no one here could have stopped me. This. Is. Over!"
The hall was silent.
None of the X-men were dead; I had made sure of it, but they wouldn't be going anywhere for a long time unless they were healed. Cyclops and Magik were the only two still conscious.
I looked to Artoria, who had watched the entire spectacle without so much as twitching.
"They've been punished," I told her. "The kidnapped mother and son have been rescued. They are with my wives. Justice has been served. All this bullshit ends now."
The King judged me, green gold eyes staring into my soul.
I let her power judge the truth of my words.
Artoria nodded, and the spell was broken.
Everyone was free once more.
As the heroes were released, I saw them ready for a fight. My brutality hadn't made me any friends.
Too bad.
"Stop."
I put every ounce of my untrained Conquerors Haki into the order.
The room froze once more.
"We don't have time for petty politics right now," I said to the room, sweeping my gaze imperiously around and eventually landing on Superman. "If you hate me, want to fight me, or whatever, we can sort that crap out later. Right now, we have an emergency. Worse than anything this world has ever faced."
"What?"
His face was grave. Serious. Angry.
I couldn't bring myself to care whether he was mad at me or not. This was not the time to play nice.
"A plague," I said seriously. "Sinister had a plague worse than this world has ever handled within his base. I believe he spread it around using that medicine you mentioned. Sanguine. If I am right, the body count will be greater than every villain, disaster, or Endbringer attack put together. It will make the bubonic plague look like chicken pox."
I could see the horror dawning on their faces.
Good.
I didn't tell them it could have come from my Island. I didn't want to argue about responsibility when time was of the essence. I didn't even know how the bastard managed to get hundreds of Maneater boars. Something to torture out of Sinister later.
If he was already dead, I'd just torture his soul.
Right now, I needed to do everything I could to prevent the spread of the Beast Plague. I would worry about responsibility later.
"What do we need to do?" Captain America asked, looking at the forms of the X-men.
"Melina will heal them," I waived off their concern. "We'll reunite the family later. That doesn't matter right now. Right now, we need to-"
I felt it.
An attempt at forced teleportation.
I naturally resisted.
I had time to look over my shoulder.
With a glassy look on his face, Stephan Strange cast the spell.
Everyone was teleported away.
Everyone but me and my wives.
Some of this world's greatest, most beloved heroes had entered Ehangwen under the flag of peace. The Justice League was gutted. Entire PRT teams were gone. Guardian, the representative of the Shi'ar, had disappeared.
Only I and my wives would exit.
Right when I needed help the most.
Well played, Oppressor.