I heard from God today and She sounded just like me

What have I done, and who have I become?

I saw the devil today and he looked a lot like me

I looked away, I turned away

Arms wide open

I stand alone

I'm no hero and I'm not made of stone

Right or wrong

I can hardly tell

I'm on the wrong side of Heaven and the righteous side of hell

The wrong side of Heaven and the righteous side

The righteous side of hell

********

"Before we begin," Lois Lane said to me, a sombre look in her dark eyes. "I want to thank you for saving Superman and the other heroes. For a time, I feared we would lose them."

"No problem," I replied with a knowing smile. "It was my wives who stepped in anyway."

"Still," the famous reporter insisted, her eyes just as knowing as mine. We were being vague due to the other people in the room, but I could feel the sincerity radiating off of her. "I know I feel safer knowing they are still with us."

"As I said," I smiled my most charming smile. "It was no issue. I am happy to help. I am also glad the misunderstanding with my landing has largely passed. My Family and the inhabitants of this world are striving to gain trust in each other. It has gone well so far, and I hope this little program will aid that effort." The cameras weren't rolling yet, but it didn't hurt to build a foundation. "By the way, congratulations."

"Sorry?"

"On the pregnancy," I said with a smile at her question. She froze, her eyes wide. "A daughter. You and your husband must be very happy."

"We are," usually mild-mannered Clark Kent interrupted. "How did you know? We haven't announced it."

"A perk of being me," I smiled mysteriously, waving my hands vaguely mystically. "I know all. Woooo."

Lois relaxed slightly at the joke, defusing the tense air that had risen from my 'threat.' I hadn't meant it as one, but I could see why she thought it might be.

The camera crew and tech aids took this chance to congratulate their coworkers, along with more than a bit of ribbing of Clark.

Apparently, it was an ongoing joke around the Daily Planet that plain ol' Clark Kent had taken years to work up the nerve to ask out his childhood friend and crush.

"If you don't mind me asking," I said to Lois quietly while one man loudly proclaimed he 'taught Clark everything he knows.' "I thought I was to be interviewed by Jimmy Olsen. I'm not opposed to the change. Just curious as to why the sudden shift?"

"He's on assignment," the intrepid reporter observed my movements in case I took offence to being 'stood up.' "I was available to cover him, and he was the closest to the incident."

"What happened?" I asked, more for politeness' sake than actual interest. This was all theatre to me anyway. It didn't matter who was actually asking the questions. Now that I thought about it, Lois might be a better fit since I saved her husband a week ago.

"A few prisoners have disappeared from the Birdcage's feed," Lois whispered conspiratorially, leaning forward in her chair. I leaned in as well. "Hasn't been made public, and no one knows if they've escaped or not, but it has the brass buzzing like flies."

"Anyone I should know about?" I asked, now actually curious. "I'm sure you have some... inside sources."

In this world, lacking the Endbringer Truce, thus the need to keep prisoners alive as fodder, the Birdcage was used to house the superpowered prisoners that couldn't be killed for one reason or another that had earned a Kill Order. It ran differently than in the novel, with each cell tailored to its occupant rather than acting as a loose prison yard.

It was a hole they could throw people in and forget about, secure in the knowledge that they would never see the light of day. It had operated for decades without a loss or breakout.

Until now.

"Nothing official," Lois gave me the stink eye at my look towards her husband. "Just a few names, Gavel, Swamp Thing... the Faerie Queen."

I raised a brow.

Those were some big names.

Gavel was just a big thug, but one whose defences were strong enough to stand up to Zion in the original Worm for several minutes. While I wouldn't put him at Superman's or Wonder Woman's level of toughness, he was still durable enough that executing him was almost impossible.

Swamp Thing, an anti-hero in most continuities, had gone berserk for some reason decades ago. He had a stronger form of chlorokinesis than even Poison Ivy and was immortal so long as he retained his connection to The Green. The burgeoning hero community at the time had fought desperately to contain him. He was one of the earliest prisoners of the Birdcage and had been one of the reasons it had been built in the first place.

The Faerie Queen was...

Quite frankly, she was the boogeyman of every Super in the world.

In the original Worm, Glaistic Uaine could collect imprints of parahumans, killing them, or from those already dead. She would then use the power as a shadow of its former user. In the book, she could use two or three reliably, more if she was willing to sacrifice power for numbers.

A useful and powerful ability, but in this world, that would have only put her in the A-lister classification at most. In a comic world, where most powers are not from Shards and whose heavy hitters way out-scaled her, she would have been a memorable, if limited, villain.

That was if the Faerie Queen's powers were the same as in the book.

They weren't.

She wasn't limited to shard bearers. Mutants or other supers were just as susceptible to her ability. Possibly regular humans as well, but she had shown no desire to harvest them.

She summoned tens of dead as easily as breathing. Most of her army was low-level villains, rogues, or heroes. C and D-listers. But, with over forty known kills to her name, even A-listers could and had fallen to her.

If that wasn't terrifying enough, she was also immortal. There was footage of her head and chest vaporizing and regenerating.

I had no idea why Ciara, the woman known as Glaistic Uaine as a villain and later Valkyrie as a hero, acted the way she did. In the book, she essentially 'talked' to shards, driving her to a special kind of madness, but she had never been outright malicious.

Like all potential threats, I had investigated her upon my landing. She had remained almost entirely unknown as a super for most of her life. Flying under the radar and using her powers subtly and infrequently for decades.

A rumour of a 'super using other supers.'

A ghostly figure, but one that didn't stir any waves.

Then, at some point after Behemoth first appeared, she snapped.

Putting Glaistic Uaine behind bars had been the first significant victory for the Justice League, cementing their status as the greatest heroes in the world. She had been an Endbringer in all but body count, and even then, only because she targeted supers exclusively.

No complex moral quandary like in the New Wave incident. She was a villain, and they were heroes. As simple as that.

Between the start of her rampage in Los Angles and its conclusion in the outskirts of Gotham, an estimated three percent of all Supers on Earth had fallen to her growing shadow army.

I could see why it was being kept hush-hush that she was AWOL.

If the public thought that Glaistic Uaine was on the loose, the panic would be insane to deal with.

"Thanks for the info," I nodded, recognizing an olive branch when I saw one. "If I hear anything, I'll let you know, and you can pass it on to your... sources." I gave an exaggerated wink as I sat back in my chair.

Lois Lane nodded, sitting back as well before calling out to the half dozen men joking and chatting with her husband.

"Boys!" She shouted, making them jump. "Let's get the camera rolling. You're making the Elden Lord wait."

More than one of them looked at me, terror on their face.

I smile guilelessly.

Judging by his quick exit and awkward walk, I think one of them shit himself.

I chuckled.

The others quickly regained their positions at the cameras, lights, and microphones.

"We're on in three. Two. One. -"

"Elden Lord. World Conquerer. Dragon. Necromancer. Polygynist. The public is crying for answers. Who are you? Why are you here? Are you a hero? Who is Mikael?" Lois dived right in, not wasting any time on useless introductions. An actual intro would be filmed by their crew later.

"I am here to answer all those questions and more," I replied with a charming smile. "I'm afraid I'll have to summarize, though. Tens of millions of years don't fit into an hour-long program easily." The reporter didn't even blink at the length of time.

She had seen some shit.

"Why don't you start with your youth, then?"

"Depending on your definition, I am still quite young," I replied. We started with some easy questions and playful banter. "I am unique in nature, but those closest to me biologically are all older than this universe. Compared to them, I am just an infant."

"That is... disturbing," Lois replied slowly. "Should we be worried about these other dragons?"

"They wouldn't be dragons, each a different being with different morphology, but you don't have to worry," I waived off. "They are in different realities entirely and have no way of getting here. Even if they did, they are primarily sympathetic to mortals."

"You said you are different from them? In what way? Because you are younger?" Lois pressed.

"Essentially, yes," I nodded before starting the real reason I was here. "Unlike them, I was not born strong. I was mortal. Weak. Weaker than the humans of this planet, in fact."

I noticed her eyes widening and saw them flicker to her disguised husband. The rest of the room's occupants shuffled uncomfortably, realizing things were going off script.

Like most interviews in this fashion, I had presented with questions I would be asked, and I was able to approve or reject them. Shows like this could not survive if they could not get people to come on them.

No one wanted to look like a fool.

So news agencies compromised. The guest came on, explained their side of the current issue, and got some publicity. The reporters got the chance to ask questions in a one-on-one context. Things veering off course was common enough, but only to the extent of digression, not a complete shift in the script.

Lois Lane, a world-famous investigative journalist, rarely hosted things like this. She was well known for not pulling punches, asking tough questions, and being the type of bloodhound reporter dedicated to finding the truth, no matter the risk.

She offended more people in power on a weakly basis than even me, and I was actively trying to push buttons.

She was only here because the Daily Planet didn't want to risk me going to another news outlet for an interview. With Olsen occupied, they hoped a big name like Lois Lane would draw me back. A basic, if practical political move to asway the large egos that usually came on shows like this.

She was also on her best behaviour, sticking to the approved questions and catering to my earlier requests. Part of it was because I differed from the usual politician or corrupt CEO. I was a confirmed killer, incredibly powerful, and had a massive support following after the Simurgh, Doomsday, and Trigon. Part of it was that she did have some goodwill toward me for saving her husband's life.

If I had stayed on script, this little interview would have ended with a flattering, if slightly dull, article on 'Your Friendly Neighbourhood Elden Lord.'

The Daily Planet's narrative would have worked if I was a new hero looking to establish myself as reliable, trustworthy, and humane.

I wasn't.

The narrative I wanted was completely different.

Heroes were bound by specific codes of conduct, rules and laws that needed to be followed. I would face a massive backlash if I had that reputation and acted differently from the narrative later.

I had brutally murdered five people on camera and gotten away with it for two reasons. First, their actions were enough that no judge would have tried to defend the Sons of Trigon. Second, people were still downright terrified of me.

They wouldn't be scared of 'Your Friendly Neighbourhood Elden Lord.'

Medea had put it well. Humans need heroes to fight monsters. Heroes need to fight monsters. Monsters need humans to prey upon.

But heroes are thrown down by the humans that raise them up.

Monsters attract heroes like flies to honey.

And humans are helpless before monsters.

I didn't want to be any of those.

I was going to be all three.

Human enough to evoke sympathy and support. Heroic enough that the mortals needed me to fight monsters. And monstrous enough that I wasn't bound by any rules but those I chose to follow.

I hoped my 'explanation' with the heroes over Doomsday's body would cover this.

Keep them vague. Keep them guessing.

Then I discovered Wonder Woman was gaining a bunch of Insight that I couldn't control.

So here I was, doing damage control using the 'truth,' which Insight would confirm is the truth.

God, was I tired of this shit.

I had so much shit to do. I needed to practice with Haki and Aura, cuddle my cat(?), discover what my semblance is, cuddle my wives, fly some more, fuck my wives, read through my library, fuck my wives some more, play video games, and tour the world.

Why can't I be the big bad Dragon? I just want to fuck with people, is that too much to ask?

Still, it wasn't like I wasn't good at what I did.

Like a shark in the water, Lois Lane lept at the bloody bait I laid for her.

"What do you mean by mortal?" She asked, leaning forward hungrily. She was more than willing to go off script if it meant getting a story she wanted.

"Exactly that," I nodded. Without the genetic manipulation of beings like the Celestials, I hadn't been kidding that I had been weaker than most of the humans on this planet. "You could call me human if it makes things easier. It's not the same, but there is enough overlap with the humans of this world that the differences are academic. It is one of the reasons I was searching for a way to gain a human body and why my standard of beauty is similar to many people's today." Little tidbits I am sure the super geniuses of the world already discovered.

"Were you born on Earth? A few supers are well known to have lived for thousands of years or have the ability to shapeshift."

"No. It was earth-like, but there were some major differences. We had a lower technological base, were biologically weaker, and had no supers. Not villains or heroes."

"I'm sure quite a few people would love to know about what a world without supers was like, but we don't have time for that. Tell us what happened. How did you go from a world with no powers to who you are now?"

I could imagine anyone watching this leaning forward eagerly, wanting to know the source of my power and any weaknesses.

"I should warn you, and any viewers watching, that the story is not a nice one," I said somberly. "I will do a lot of summarizing and gloss over a bit to save time, but what remains will still be disturbing. Anyone with a weak stomach should turn away."

"We shall display the appropriate warnings," Lois said seriously. She didn't even flinch. This woman had been to warzones and massacres and seen the worst humanity had to offer. She wouldn't be scared away easily.

Perfect.

"As I said, I was mortal once," I started weaving my tale. My Performance Talent might not be as directly useful as Martial or Magic Talent, but I would put it to good use. "I had a family. Friends. People I loved and who loved me. But I was taken from them. I awoke one day in a stone prison. Locked away in a cell no bigger than a cubicle and left to rot. I stayed there for months. Alone. I received no food. No water. There was no one to talk to, and I had no idea what I had done to deserve such a fate."

"How did you survive?" Lois asked, entranced. I wasn't using Dragon Aura, but I didn't need to.

"I didn't," I answered sombrely. "My first death came while I was in that cell. Starving and dehydrated, a husk of the man I once was."

"That's..." Lois furrowed her brow, trying to understand what I was getting at.

"I hadn't realized until then that I had been cursed," I explained. "I was undead. Cursed to never find joy in life nor peace in death. Any time I died, I simply returned. Still trapped in that cell. For eternity."

"You escaped? Or were you released?"

"After many months of struggle, I managed to escape my cell by shoving my limbs, one at a time, through the bars and reforming on the other side once I perished from the blood loss."

I heard one of the cameramen retch at the image I was painting.

Good.

I firmly believed in moving on from painful memories. Of growing stronger from opposition.

It was why I allowed Yoruichi to keep Ordering me, despite it tickling my trauma. My self-inflicted training regime.

It wasn't for everyone, but I would endure the discomfort if it meant overcoming my trauma.

My 'story' was just another weapon in my toolbox. It not only gave me sympathy from those who heard it, but it also acted as a shield. I placed a sword at any opponent's neck by showing 'vulnerability.'

Even if someone could theoretically kill my Family or me, what happens when I return?

From there, I would resurrect the rest, and all you'd have accomplished was to make a very powerful and immortal Family mad at you.

Nobody knew that my main body was my weakness. Nobody knew I couldn't revive my wives like I could others. I was turning the cluster-fuck that was Glory Girl's resurrection into 'proof' that my Family was unstoppable.

This interview was to be my magnum opus.

Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

This wasn't me reacting or doing things for my wives. This was something I had set up and would achieve all by myself. A week in the making since I had talked to Wonder Woman in the wake of the Doomsday incident.

After this, I can stop this constant politicking.

I enjoyed the process and was good at it, but I did not want to worry about it for the rest of my time here. I'd still do it for shits and giggles occasionally, as well as to support the others, but after this, the narrative would be firmly set.

I had my body for two weeks now, a month and a half since I had landed on Earth, and I was ready to retire.

I wanted to spend my days reading, flying, playing games, trolling the people of this world, being a degenerate with my wives, and enjoying my happily ever after.

The simple truth was that most things did not need my attention.

I'd never be left entirely alone, but this interview will be the final touch on cementing my public image.

"I resurrected outside my cell in a new world. One filled with undead, demons, dragons, and decrepit gods. All crawling toward a slow but inevitable apocalypse. I was naked. Powerless. Alone. With no skills and no clue as to what was going on."

"What happened?"

"I died. A lot." The other occupants of the room flinched. I was smiling, but it was not a happy smile. "I was bludgeoned to death. Decapitated. Burned. Impaled. Crushed. Eaten alive. Torn apart. I had never held a weapon, had no fighting experience, and was outnumbered thousands to one. That was not counting the demons that roamed the halls. Monstrosities three stories tall that killed anything that approached. That was how I spent my first month out of the cell as I tried to leave the Undead Asylum. It took one month to leave a building, even a large one. The rest of my journey was not any easier."

My tale wove together effortlessly for the next few minutes, entrapping the listeners in my weaving.

I uttered not a single lie, simply omitting a few details.

I spoke nothing of the Catalogue or that my wives were part of the tale.

I chose to do this because there was no better lie than the truth. I was sure the super geniuses of the world had already pieced together vast swaths of information about my Family and me, and I had no way of knowing what Insight had given the local version of Diana.

By controlling the narrative, I could contextualize everything to my desire.

"It was there I met Priscilla," I narrated. I had gotten her permission to explain the bare basics of her situation. In return, I had made her a promise. "Locked away in a magic painting because of fear and discrimination. A peaceful woman who wanted nothing to do with all the blood, violence, and death of the outside world. If you have watched her streams, you will know she loves music. It was my solace wandering the world alone, and it drew her to me. We sing together frequently, even today. I hope to soon be able to sing with her on stage and share our joy with the world."

A little promotion for her burgeoning career.

I saw one cameraman pump his fist in joy.

She might be more popular than I thought if she is already that recognizable after only streaming for a little over a week.

"That is lovely," Lois chimed in. "So Priscila was your first love? How did the others come into the picture? Was she accepting of your other wives?"

"We will get to that story soon. Unfortunately," I sighed, looking into the distance as if lost in bittersweet memories. "Our time together was limited. I was still undead. The world was still coming to an end. The Fires of the First Flame were still fading. If I chose to stay with her, we might have had a few decades or centuries of happiness before the end. I didn't want that. With a heavy heart, I took up my weapons again and continued my journey. I found a safe place for her while I did what I could for that world."

I paused in my story when I saw a few eyes misting up in the room. Superman himself was red-eyed.

It was almost physically painful not to make a laser vision joke.

It made sense.

Not only was I a supernaturally good storyteller, but my story contained hints of classics like Rapunzel and Beauty and the Beast, and carried a note of doomed heroism that resonated powerfully with people who lived in this world.

Everyone loved a good romance, even the most stone-hearted, but a doomed romance was even more enticing.

Despite being a parody of teenage love, Romeo and Juliet would not have resounded through the ages so well if that weren't true.

Still...

Did they forget that this story had a happy ending?

"That is the world Medea was talking about," Lois said, furtively wiping her eyes. It took a moment for me to remember what she was talking about.

The Great Betrayal.

When Ranni, Melina, Medea and, most damning of all, Artoria turned on me.

I still had to get them back for that.

"Ah..." I started to deny it on instinct.

Then I paused and swallowed my words bitterly.

Like it or not, and I definitely didn't, their 'testimony' would only help me form my narrative.

"She said you burned for thousands of years to keep others alive. That always struck me as odd," Lois pressed. "You make no secret that you do not wish to be a hero despite how many people you have saved. Even immortal, burning for thousands of years would not have been a pleasant experience. You didn't sacrifice yourself for a world or civilization. You did it for love! So your wife could live!"

No, I didn't! Don't make my Tragic Backstory ™ into a shitty Young Adult Romance Tragedy (Definity not TM).

"There were others I was close to, and for myself, since it was the only way to end the curse," I insisted. I couldn't say I was doing it for my Freedom or that I rescued Priscila as an experiment, but I could still deflect. "A handful of people I had managed to save. Less than ten in a kingdom that once housed hundreds of millions. And I had no idea I would burn for that long."

I didn't like the look in her eyes. I knew that look. It was the look of a fanfiction fan who was gushing about their OTP.

Thankfully, Lois Lane didn't disappoint me. Even lost in the 'romance' of it all, she didn't forget what she was here for.

"Hem," she coughed slightly into her fist, refocusing on me with a set face. "While the story is fascinating and romantic, I notice you are skipping a lot and being intentionally vague. What are you trying to hide?"

"In my defence, this story took place over decades, and we are just starting. Being light on details is a necessity. Still, you are right. I was trying to hide things, though not for my sake." I nodded agreeably, thankful she had taken my bait.

"For your family, then," the reporter nodded.

"Yes," I answered. "And I will continue to do so. Their secrets are their own. If they wish to share, they will. All I will say is that the place I managed to hide Priscilla is the Island I carried to this world. A separate dimension that the rest of my Family called home. I couldn't not go there myself, but I could send her to them."

"Why were they there?"

"I won't say," I shook my head firmly. "I don't really have a concern about privacy for myself and am an open book. What you see is what you get. But those are my beliefs, not theirs. I respect them enough that I will not spill their secrets."

"Very well," Lois nodded. I could detect a hint of respect in the action even if I knew it must rackle her news senses to have secrets dangled before her. "But that is how you met them, correct?"

"In a way," I agreed. "I could not go to the Island myself, nor could they leave initially, but we could communicate."

"And you fell in love," Lois said decisively.

"Not even close," I disagreed. For a second, I delighted at their confused face before explaining. This portion of the story was a bit more than I would have liked to explain, but it was necessary to alleviate the concerns that I was Mastering my wives. "You must understand that I was still undead. Still in a world spiralling toward its destruction. I still had no idea what had led me to that place in the first place. I had no plans to fall in love. In fact, I actively resisted any sort of romantic overtures from them. While not unfamiliar with polygamy, my original society was still largely monogamous. I had no intentions of creating a 'harem,' as some people are calling my Family."

"What changed?"

"Time," I said simply. "Time, sincerity, and support. It is hard to remain aloof when given love, care, and support. I was particularly stubborn, though, so I managed to hold off for centuries as I travelled to more worlds. Only after Melina died did I realize how important they all were to me. That was before I learned how to resurrect people, so I believed I had lost her forever. It led to me reexamining all my relationships."

All true, yet so out of context that people would draw the utterly wrong conclusion.

"Your ability to bring back the dead," Lois pounced. "Can you expound on it? The confirmation of the existence of the afterlife. Of the soul. It has stirred up a major hornet's nest, and our readers and viewers are dying to know more."

"Good one," I chuckled at the pun. Confusion rolled across her face instantly before her eyes twitched in annoyance. "We've already digressed so much to talk about my love life that I don't want to waste too much time on this. Still, I can give the highlights."

"It would ease many minds if they knew what was happening."

"First, I will say something plainly to everyone who watches this. I will not be resurrecting anyone else. Period."

"Why?" The reporter didn't look judgemental, just curious. "While I am happy for Glory Girl's return, what separates her from all the other heroes who have died. What about civilians? Are there restrictions on how many people you can bring back?"

"I could, theoretically, bring back as many people as I wanted."

"Then why just her?"

"Let me ask you a question in reverse," I replied airily. "Would people be happy if I brought back everyone I wanted? If the dead walked the street with the living, immortal and unaging? More powerful than they were in life? If I was Glaisig Uaine 2.0. The Faerie King. Would people feel safer then?"

"No, they would not." The grim set in her mouth told me Lois was seriously considering the idea.

She wasn't the only one.

Most of the crew in the room was shuffling awkwardly.

"That's one of the reasons," I nodded. "There are a few others. Firstly, if you have watched the video of Glory Girl's resurrection, you will know that I believed resurrection to be common at the time. And, after hearing my tale of my time as an undead, can you blame me? I had no idea it would be such an issue to the people of this world."

It was an absurd truth but a truth nonetheless.

Comic worlds had more death and resurrection than even Dark Souls.

"I suppose not."

"As for why Glory Girl, in particular, that reason is twofold. First, I needed a human body, and Panacea is still the best biokinetic in the world. With my abilities, I knew she wasn't dead. The trade for her services was natural. Second, I received Glory Girl's permission before contacting her sister. Notice how I did not bring back her parents? That is because they didn't want to come back."

"They didn't?" The reporter looked surprised at my words before narrowing her eyes, looking for any signs of deceit. "I find it hard to believe someone would want to stay dead."

"That is the arrogance of the living," I nodded. "They assume death is terrible. That coming back to life would be a good thing. It isn't. Take it from someone who knows what he is speaking of. Life is a struggle. It is pain. Heartbreak. Loss. When someone dies, it is not the dead that are the victim. It is the living they leave behind. The dead are at peace. Beyond pain and sorrow. Being able to die can be a person's greatest gift."

"...My apologies," Lois Lane said softly, looking genuinely regretful for her words as she remembered that I had been denied that gift for the longest time. But she pressed on. If that was enough to stop her curiosity, she wouldn't be who she was. Her eyes narrowed accusingly. "You make it sound like you are advocating suicide. That we should all just die."

"I'm really not." I shook my head emphatically. "The dead are at peace, sure, but that is all they are. The dead cannot build or destroy. They might not feel pain but nor do they experience the joys of life. What they are is all they will ever be. Never able to grow. Never able to improve their lot or the world around them. We must live. For ourselves. For others that came before or will come after. Life is a struggle but a necessary and beautiful one."

I wasn't speaking out of my ass, nor was my opinion formed from my Life Element.

I had faced grief. Pain. Depression. For centuries my existence had been an existential nightmare as I battled fear that 'I' was being controlled, puppeted by women claiming to love me.

Despite that, in my entire time, from waking in that cell to this second, the only time I had been suicidal had been while I burned in the Fires of the First Flame.

Don't you dare go hollow.

Even after all these years and all the pain those words had caused me, I still thought those words and what they represented were beautiful.

"I didn't take you for a philosopher."

"Anyone who lives long enough becomes one," I said genially. "Old age does that to people."

"You called yourself an infant earlier," Lois reminded before getting back on track. "Before we return to your tale, do you mind explaining the nature of the afterlife? Baring your ability to resurrect people is what most concern the populous."

"The short answer is afterlife: yes. The slightly longer answer is that there is a 'catch-all' afterlife where the vast majority of anything with a soul ends up. It's not some sort of paradise or a different place, just a layer of reality most can't perceive where souls reside once they lose their physical anchors. I.E., Their bodies."

"So you are claiming religious afterlives don't exist?" Lois asked with a frown.

"Eh," I said, waiving my hand in a so-so gesture. "As I said, that is where most souls end up. Any being of sufficient power that can interact with souls can create its own afterlife. I could theoretically do so as well. So if you make a deal with a devil or god, you are going to their afterlife. Prayer, sacrifices, or belief in such a being counts as making a deal, depending on its nature. The benefits are obvious. If you are Christian, for example, you might go to heaven. The downside is as obvious. You might not. You're not the one who chooses. They are. More than that, you cannot forget that whatever you are making a deal with might change its mind, change the afterlife itself, or be completely different than what you believe it to be."

"Please elaborate," she furrowed her brows, not getting the point right away.

"Again, with the Christianity example, one can't forget that what it means to be Christian has changed over the years. Early Christianity was an apocalypse cult, thinking the world would end in their lifetime. That influenced their views. Later Christians became incredibly militant. Not only was killing and enslaving permitted but it was also encouraged. That is not counting the hundreds of different denominations of Christianity or that Christianity is only one of three Abrahamic religions. You have no guarantee that your belief system, even if it is based on a religion, matches that of that religion's deity. Or that diety might change over time, and what might have been favourable once no longer is. So it's a gamble."

I saw how disconcerting my words made her, Superman, and the other occupants uncomfortable. They had been raised in Kansas, in Christian America, and probably hadn't dived too deep into history or theology.

I fought the urge to sigh.

Though this world had gods, magic, and all sorts of other 'heretic' concepts, I could not forget that comics such as DC or Marvel were formed mainly in very Christian America. More modern stories were more nuanced or dealt with things more fairly, but a considerable part was still steeped in Americana.

One of the most famous heroes was called Captain America and had been around in the early twentieth century! He had punched out Hitler!

There were literal propaganda posters with him as their face!

I hadn't wanted to go too deep into it for this very reason.

Religion was deeply personal to people and, baring politics, was the easiest way to spark controversies.

Comic worlds had a bunch of different afterlives, with a dozen other gods or demons to rule them. I had just been trying to explain the rules to the people of this world who didn't have the information I did.

Time for some damage control.

"Look," I said softly. "As you can tell from my story, I have problems with gods. I've died at their hands an uncountable number of times. Their actions doomed that world to a slow decay because they were unwilling to let their power go. To accept that all things must end. But that was those worlds. This one operates by different rules. There is nothing wrong with prayer, belief, or religion. Putting your trust in a higher power can be comforting, and there are benevolent deities. We all know how much effort Thor goes through for mortals. I've married a goddess. Multiple if you want to get technical. Like all things, religion is complicated and cannot be condensed into a few minutes of explanation in a tv interview. I've explained all this not to convert people to my view but to simply ensure people know what they are getting into."

"I see," Lois said, looking a bit more relaxed. "Thank you for the explanation, though I fear we have gotten off topic."

"Where was I?" I asked, knowing but letting her reset where she wanted.

"You had left Priscilla on the Island and met the other inhabitants there," she said easily.

"Right," I nodded.

I continued my story from there, paying careful attention to emphasize how difficult fighting the Lords had been, the atrocities of New Londo and other aspects that highlighted the violent nature of the worlds I travelled to.

That little tangent hadn't been planned, but it served to help humanize me, which was good, so I decided to tell the rest of my story, emphasizing less my human element and more the inevitability of my victories.

When your opponent is immortal, violent, and bent on a goal, it is not a matter of 'if' but 'when' they will find and kill you.

So don't fuck with them.

I blasted through the rest of the Dark Souls series, explaining that after returning to the world for the third time, I had simply decided that the weakening of the fire was inevitable and set out to build a new world for the inhabitants than try and light it again.

Elden Ring led to a few questions, such as clarifications on a few names Lois had noted from Ranni and Melina's speeches but was otherwise blasted through easily.

I framed my world travel as my own skill, though one that left me weak and alone due to my young age at the time. It was an excellent excuse for why I hadn't curb-stomped any new world I visited right away.

My goal had been to reach my Family on the Island, and I had searched, one world at a time, for a way.

I hinted that I had visited or knew of other worlds, just to keep people guessing, but denied talking about them, citing that we were already low on time for the interview.

Then we got to Bloodborne, and I put the finishing touches on my narrative.

"In that world, afflicted by a plague I helped cure," I explained away, not delving deeply into what I had done. "I had found a way to reach the Island, but in doing so, I had to discard my human form and ascend beyond it. I became more than I was. That was millions of years ago, of course, and a lot has happened since, but we have almost run out of time, so I will skip to the end."

I love telling technical truths. It gives me the tinglies.

"Finally, with my Family, I decided to visit earth as it was familiar to most of them, for obvious reasons. It wasn't all perfect, though. I am afraid the League was right to a degree," I said regretfully. "I had become something that was a threat to others. In size alone, I would never be able to find a planet that could support what I had become. I do wish they had tried to talk first, they would have known that I had mitigated the danger I posed, but I cannot blame them for their caution."

Clark Kent winced.

"You know of my wives," I smiled proudly. "After everything we've been through, they are quite protective of me, and I of them. I would like to use this interview to formally apologize to the superhero community of this world. Their rejection of my Family had hurt Diana and Raven. It was one of the reasons we were operating covertly for the first month on Earth. I didn't want to force them to choose between the Family and versions of their friends. When they surrounded us in Australia last week, I was angry. I was prepared to do something... drastic."

"I am happy things worked out," Lois smiled in turn.

"So am I. If I had gone through with my plan, I would have been sleeping on the figurative couch for at least a month," I said with a chuckle. Lois gave a polite laugh that died at my following words. "Who would think Doomsday would save the world? What a time to be alive."

"...Right. You never know what might happen." She looked at her watch nervously before meeting my eye. "We have run out of the time you promised us."

I didn't know what disturbed her more. That I was planning on destroying the earth, something they knew I could easily do, or that I would only be in the dog house for a month for doing it.

Either way, I found the bead of sweat on her brow hilarious.

One little joke and I had just coopted any attempts to subvert my Family against me.

Wonder Woman would try a save the world from me if they crossed my line, but that's all she would do.

When we first landed, I held a tiny sliver of fear that she would leave us now that we had found a world like her home. That sliver had been exacerbated by what happened with Doomsday.

It was one of the reasons I had almost lost my cool arguing with her and Artoria.

Fear, as always, was my greatest foe.

That had changed after our last... talk and her gift.

Now I was sure of one thing.

If it came down to it, she would choose the Family over the world, even if she'd be put out with me over it.

"One final question before you leave us," Lois said quickly, shifting the topic away from the armageddon they had avoided by pure luck.

"Alright," I agreed readily, pausing in my rise from my chair to look at her. "I am meeting some friends for drinks soon, but I'm sure they will understand."

"I'm sure they will," Lois said. I only caught the micro glare she sent her husband because I had been looking for it. "It is about your island. It's been a constant in your story, but you never elaborated on it. What is it? Is it a threat to the people of earth?"

"As I said, it's a pocket dimension," I explained. "One that my Family and I have made our home. Think of it as a massive mobile house. But no, it is not a threat."

"You claimed that the creatures of your island would be able to 'drive our civilization back to the stone age.' Please elaborate on why we should not consider it a threat."

"For one, I am keeping them contained," I said, an idea springing to mind. "If I were to die for a while, then yes, it would pose a risk, and something could get out. But we don't have to worry about that."

I hadn't considered it before, but it was a good idea to use the Island as a deadman switch-type threat.

Kill me, and Pandora's box is opened.

"The other reason is you'd have to be monumentally stupid to try and invade a dragon's den, let alone one that has had millions of years to fortify, one that is the size of a continent and is married to some of the greatest mages of all time. Think about how dumb you'd have to be to think going there with malicious intent was a good idea."

"Then why do you allow those with such intent to pass through the barrier?"

"To help the gene pool," I joked, but Lois didn't laugh. "Seriously, and I cannot stress this enough. Crossing that barrier is optional, but anyone who does is doomed."

"So you kill them all?" She asked seriously.

"I don't need to. I don't even have to pay attention when someone enters. As something of a connoisseur of ways to die, take it from me, the easiest way someone will die is if they are eaten alive if they cross my threshold. Some of the stuff there..." I shuddered, remembering the Wormfaces, Runebears, Basilisks, the maggots, Blood Flies, and other things that have killed me in the past. "There are no less than ten different kinds of poisonous swamps on the Island, each worse than the last. The animals range from Lightning Goats to full-on Hydras. And I would still take the latter over some of the other creatures that live there."

"I see..." Lois looked a little pale at the idea of anything that would make me, the Elden Lord and someone who had died countless times, shudder. "Thank you for your time today, and I hope we get the chance to talk again."

"We might," I nodded agreeably, standing up. Seeing the reporter still slightly shaken, I put a comforting hand on her shoulder and smiled as the cameras cut and the crew started talking. "As I said, don't worry about it. So long as I am here, nothing will escape the Island. And anyone who enters is both morally irredeemable and suicidally stupid." That type of person made great test subjects for Medea. Or food for Medea and the dragons. "Or just plain suicidal."

********

Amanda Waller watched the infrared drone feed as long as she could.

Then she started the video footage of the interview again before looking back to the drone.

Then the ship disappeared, passing through the White Mountains as if they weren't there, and all she had left to watch was the interview feed.

In the privacy of her office, the head of the PRT let out the smallest of relieved sighs.

There had been some concern that unconscious people wouldn't count, even if they fit the Elden Lord's requirements. Thankfully there were no issues.

If nothing else, the massive island was a great way to kill people on death row.

Now, all that was left was to wait.

Out of habit and paranoia, Waller pulled up the dossiers once more to go over everything for points of failure.

For the twentieth time, the head of the Parahuman Response Team concluded that any point of failure would not fall back on her, the PRT, or the US government.

All six had been contacted through intermediaries, promised freedom in exchange for services. As far as they all knew, they now worked for a rogue agency with a twitchy trigger finger, ready to blow their brains out at the slightest sign of disobedience.

Five of the six had been outfitted with explosive devices inside their bodies, and the sixth, Gavel, had been given enough incentive that, in the unlikelihood of his survival, he would focus more on the Elden Lord than returning to his old ways.

Waller grimaced.

Swamp Thing's escape was of little consequence. The modern Protectorate was more than able to deal with him when he showed his mossy head compared to decades ago. As soon as they knew where he had gotten off to and how he escaped, he'd be back in prison where he belonged.

The Faerie Queen though...

That was a shit show waiting to happen. Even ignoring the optics of the first break out of the Birdcage, the PRT still had no clue where she was, what her goals were, or if she would start another rampage.

There were over thrice as many Supers today than six years ago, more soldiers for her army than ever.

The only silver lining of the entire exodus was that it had provided the perfect cover to sneak Gavel free, even if his escape had been the tipping point that alerted the facility to the loss of its inmates.

The other members had been nowhere near as difficult to recruit as their facilities had been PRT based and thus easier to exfiltrate from their prisons.

Deathstroke and Taskmaster would do well to keep the others in line. They weren't the strongest, but they were the most professional. The latter, in particular, was more deadly than ever. Waller didn't trust any of them, but those two were known to at least keep their word.

Killer Frost, Gavel, and Hookwolf were muscle, barely more than superpowered thugs but useful ones. Waller half expected them to kill each other before this was over, bombs be damned, but that was acceptable as long as they fulfilled their task first.

Ideally, they would band together to stay alive for as long as possible, but there was nothing lost if they didn't.

They were all going to die anyway.

Waller crushed the tiny spark of guilt as she came to the last profile.

She didn't know what the woman had been before she had appeared in Maddison, but Spiral was no longer anything but a ticking time bomb.

One that could use magic, teleport, and paralyze others. When looking at potential 'recruits,' the six-armed mutant had fit their needs so perfectly that Waller seriously considered whether she needed the rest of the crew.

With the Simurgh dead, most of her plans were to be considered failures, but appropriate caution still needed to be taken, even if her victims would never recover.

And the mutant, Ziz bomb or not, was simply too valuable to let rot or execute.

At least now, she could do some good for the world.

Amanda Waller was placing a lot of eggs in this basket. She had done everything to be as safe, careful, and discreet as possible. Learning that the Elden Lord would return from the dead was extremely disheartening. It just emphasized the need to pry out his secrets if it was the truth, and talking about the island had clearly been something he didn't want to do.

Even if they could only kill him temporarily, it would still be better than not being able to touch him at all.

As the ship carrying six unconscious villains landed on the shore of the Island, Amanda Waller prayed that this would be enough.

That the risk she was taking would pay off.

That the US would no longer have to fear the Elden Lord's whim.

That the secret of the Dragon's blood would be the key to humanity's independence from the powerful forces that lurked in the darkness of space.

She prayed that her Suicide Squad would do their job and then die, never alerting the Elden Lord to their presence.

Amanda Waller was not the most moral of people or devotedly religious, but she was still human.

Like most people, her dreams were simple.

Success and a better tomorrow than the day that came before.

After her family's tragedy, she spent her entire life climbing the ladder of the world to accomplish those goals.

She had no way of knowing that both of those dreams were mutually exclusive.

She should have prayed for failure.