This work is a piece of fiction. While inspired by real events, cultures, and practices in human history, the story blends factual history with fictional characters, dramatizations, and creative interpretation.
It is not intended to promote, glorify, or encourage any illegal activities, substance use, or harmful behavior. All depictions of sensitive topics are included solely for narrative and historical context.
For the effects of the story, all characters are to be considered above the majority age.
Reader discretion is advised.
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DxD Multiverse, Urakyoto, Japan.
It was a beautiful night, with a chilly air that brought comfort, not cold, a soft breeze that chimed like bells, and the scent of the garden flowed unimpeded through the open window of the bedroom. Magic kept insects and pests away despite how welcoming the open window appeared.
In this room, shared by Ophis and Aragorn for reasons Yasaka currently ignored, Kunou lay blissfully asleep on a large pillow Aragorn had brought out of his storage, curled like an endearing fox cub hugging one of her tails.
From an angle, a shimmering dome of transparency could be seen over the fox cub. This dome served as a sound isolation barrier, allowing the cub to preserve the image she had of her mother intact.
Outside the sound isolation barrier—
"A-Ahn~"
—Yasaka squirmed and lost her poise as the leader of Urakyoto.
Her round, fair toes spread as her long supple legs extended, her clothing doing so little to keep her modesty protected from the draconic eyes in the room.
She lay prone over Aragorn's lap, her arms stretched and her fingers splayed, goosebumps spreading from the base of her tails to her neck, arms, chest, and nipples.
(Like this, but Ecchi.)
Aragorn couldn't help but mentally remark on the similarity between a cat stretching and Yasaka's position.
"T-There~" Her words were more mewled than spoken.
Her clothing barely held onto her, with most of her beautiful and tantalizing back and part of her upper gluteus being exposed, due to her movements and desire to allow access to the base of her tails to her 'groomer'.
Whenever Aragorn's fingers traced the contours and lengths of her tails, her fingers would grasp at the sheets, and her toes would curl uncontrollably.
"So..." Aragorn dragged his words, allowing Yasaka to come down whatever she was on. "I can tell you're not aroused, but... Why does it appear so licentious? Are you trying to create a misunderstanding or something? I mean, I sense you harbor no sexual attraction to me, my [Empathy] tells me so, but still... You know?"
Ophis, with her doll-like presence, rested in a nearby spot on the futon. Her eyes, although seeing nothing strange with Yasaka's reaction to Aragorn's touch, were following his hand greedily. Ever since that day, Aragorn had dared not to provide her with that divine release, and she had only realized it now because Aragorn had kept her distracted with sweets and silence.
Releasing a sigh, as if the stress of motherhood and governing the Youkai had evaporated from her, Yaska shuffled into a lateral recumbent position with her head over Aragorn's lap and her tails spread behind her. {A/N: It means lying on her side.}
"I can't help it," Yasaka replied, her voice still carrying a recognizable quiver. "It's like your hands do something to my brain and then my body takes the reins and control jumps ship."
"Nn," Ophis added, her support for Yasaka's statement could be easily seen in how her eyes were still tracing Aragorn's hands.
Aragorn noticed this and brought a hand to his head level, facing forward, then he lowered it and lifted it back again. Ophis's eyes followed the motion with the same dedication a cat follows a wand teaser.
"So long as there are no misunderstandings," Aragorn lowered his gaze to her full breasts sprawled languidly to either side, somehow still looking as impossibly perky as ever, as if they had a mind of their own to oppose gravity. Her areolas peeking outside her already skimpy garbs. "We can keep this up until we part ways. I'm quite the fan of your tails, Yasaka."
"..." No reply came from the fox woman. It didn't take a glance for Aragorn to understand that, like her daughter, she had fallen asleep.
Aragorn combed through her fluffy tails one last time, this time without stimulating her, and then used his telekinesis to fly the mother-daughter duo to their respective bedrooms.
On their way, the servants, waiting outside the room for their Daiyoukai and princess, followed after the floating females with surprising familiarity; this was indeed not the first time this had happened.
Back in Aragorn's and Ophis' shared room, Aragorn, still seated, opened his arms wide to Ophis. "Come, I'll get you to your silence," he said.
"I, want that," Ophis demanded while pointing at his hands.
"Oh?" Aragorn asked with a smirk. "So you remember now?"
"Sweets and my silence," Ophis 'explained'.
"Sure, Ophis, come here and I'll turn you into a slug," Aragorn said with a chuckle.
Ophis floated to his lap and nestled comfortably like a child does in their parents' embrace. Less than ten seconds later, Ophis had transformed from a loli dragon into a loli slug. She had even poorer resistance to his touch than Yasaka and Kunou did.
Aragorn, following the routine of the past nights, encased Ophis in a void barrier and shrank it before swallowing her into his void stomach. Finally, in his stomach, Ophis found her silence.
The next day, after waking up, Aragorn 'regurgitated' Ophis, and the sleeping loli returned to the world of the living.
Upon being hit by the noise of 'not-her-silence' after exiting Aragorn's stomach, she woke up and rubbed her eyes like a sleeping child.
"My silence," she said while fixedly staring at Aragorn's abdomen.
"I'm already working on creating a replica of my stomach's dimension, I'll possibly have it ready in a week more," Aragorn said. "Your senses are not easy to fool."
If Ophis sought silence, why hadn't she created or found a location silent enough to suit her needs? Why did she act as if the Dimensional Gap was the one and only answer? Her senses was the answer. As a Dragon God, her senses could pierce through dimensional boundaries even in their most passive mode. This is why the task was not as simple as creating an empty dimension and being done with it.
Ophis nodded, indicating her willingness to patiently wait, and then demanded, "Breakfast."
"Yeah, yeah," Aragorn dismissively said. "Let's go, today I'll teach you how to make an omelet."
"Sweet?" Ophis raised her arms to Aragorn and asked.
"You can put some sugar in them." Aragorn reached under her armpits and hoisted her up to her shoulders. "But it's normally a negligible amount."
Ophis didn't reply, but her mood was evidently raising flags of disinterest and displeasure to Aragorn's empathy.
"I'll take you to that class I'll be teaching in Kuoh Town," Aragorn said to assuage her mood.
"About sweets?" Ophis asked.
"Yes, the cold variety," Aragorn replied.
That was all Ophis needed to hear to lift her mood.
Waiting for the dragon duo in the kitchen were the staff, who appeared as energetic as kids before a school trip.
"Chef, we are ready to learn," the previous head chef declared with a respectful classic Japanese bow.
"Let's get those pans hot," Aragorn commanded. "Today, I'll teach you how to make 67 variations of a 'classical' breakfast depending on the country. We'll start with a Filipino breakfast often called a 'silog' meal."
"Silog?" one of the cooks asked.
"It typically includes fried rice (sinangag), a fried egg (itlog), and a choice of savory dishes like tocino (sweet cured pork), tapa (cured beef), longganisa (Filipino sausage), or bangus (milkfish)," Aragorn explained. "Split into teams and I'll pass over the recipe for each dish correspondingly."
The cooks quickly split themselves into prearranged teams, and Aragorn used his telepathy to transfer a copy of the recipe for each dish. Aragorn took over a fire and, with Ophis still on his shoulders, he showed her how to make a simple omelet.
When the cooks needed some testing evaluation, Aragorn would take an additional sample for Ophis besides his own. He would then approve or explain where they failed and move to the next.
About two hours later, the serving staff made it to the dining room with the draconic duo following behind. There, Yasaka and Kunou awaited their guests and breakfast.
"Morning, fox mother. Morning, fox cub," Aragorn greeted with a smile. He flew Ophis to her chair next to Kunou.
"Good morning, Ophis-sama," Kunou said with a smile.
"Kunou," Ophis replied.
Leaving the two in their own world, Aragorn sat next to Yasaka.
"I fell asleep again," she said, a faint blush decorating her cheeks.
"I find it entertaining how that's what's on your mind and not the show of mature erotism that you put up on my lap last night," Aragorn commented with a lopsided grin to convey his mixed emotions.
"Stop it, not in front of Kunou," Yasaka said while covering her mouth with her flowing sleeves.
"You," Aragorn turned to her. "How come 7 out of 10 things that come out of your mouth are suggestive or prone to misunderstandings?"
Yasaka had the presence of mind to at least look embarrassed.
One of the cooks presented the dishes, and then a delicious and varied breakfast was shared.
After having the plates taken away, Aragorn informed Yasaka of his plans for the day.
"Why are you teaching a class on ice cream in Kuoh Town?" Yasaka asked.
This was a question she would not have asked days ago, in fear of overstepping her bounds and coming off as questioning Aragorn's motives. But after succumbing to the manipulations and heavenly touch of Aragorn, Yasaka feared no more slighting Aragorn with her words.
"It's to oversee a little project of mine," Aragorn smiled mischievously.
"Is it about the Satans' sisters?" Yasaka asked.
"Yes," Aragorn confirmed. "Sirzechs' sister."
"What did the little girl ever do to catch your attention?" Yasaka asked, intrigue and a semblance of pity in her heart.
"Mmm, not much," Aragorn shrugged. "She simply has an intriguing future."
"Poor girl," Yasaka commented. For a being of Aragorn's existential level to find her future intriguing, she was sure it was not something pretty.
"By the way," Aragorn said. "How is it going with spreading rumors of our loli dragon claiming Urakyoto as her residence?"
"I received a formal notice for a visit from the other Youkai heads," Yasaka replied. "So, at least they are taking the 'rumors' seriously. I haven't gotten any updates from my sources in the underworld, but the Shinto Pantheon—Amaterasu-Omikami specifically—reached out to me a few days ago. She'll probably descend to meet Ophis soon."
"That's good," Aragorn nodded. "Reach out to me in case we are not here when they visit. I'll portal Ophis to you when needed."
"Thank you, Aragorn," Yasaka smiled.
"I, can portal myself," Ophis interjected.
Aragorn didn't comment. He stared fixedly at her impassive eyes. "But would you do it?"
"... You, can portal me," Ophis declared after a second of thought.
It wasn't that she was lazy; it was more that she was in energy-saving mode most of the time. There's a clear difference. A very clear one.
The morning passed as it had for the last few days, with Kunou playing around Aragorn and Ophis while the two focused on the creation of the Silence Dimension—as Aragorn liked to call it—and occasionally Aragorn taught Ophis about examples of humanity's darker side.
Eventually, the afternoon came, and Aragorn and Ophis left a moody Kunou in Urakyoto before departing to Kuoh Town. The fox cub was reproachful about being left behind.
Upon arrival, Aragorn's physical appearance shifted at his will, revealing an Asian man with long black hair tied up in a low bun. His eyes were changed to follow the human type, and his draconic features receded.
(It's Kayden Break's human appearance from Eleceed. But any ultra handsome black haired asian man would do.)
"Ophis, look at me," Aragorn pointed with his index and middle fingers to his face. "I'm your father now."
"I, understand," Ophis nodded.
"My name is Kyomu (Void), and you shall be Mugen (Infinite)," Aragorn declared.
"Do, I hide my aura?" Ophis asked. She understood the assignment.
"Mask it as that of a magician," Aragorn said. "The girl found my advertisement in the DevilNet. I'm posing as a magician who wields magic in his art."
"Magic?" Ophis asked.
"Yes, magic to achieve the best possible sweets beyond the realm of physics," Aragorn explained.
"Can I learn?" Ophis asked.
"Sure," Aragorn nodded. "Still, you might find a greater appreciation for sweets crafted by servants than by your hands."
"Why?" Ophis tilted her head in question.
"Isn't the work of others more tasty than yours?" Aragorn asked.
"Is it?" Ophis asked.
"Maybe," Aragorn petted her head. "Maybe not. You'll find out eventually."
Aragorn walked into the building he had rented, and the confused loli followed behind.
Although Aragorn had rented the entire building, the cooking class would only take place in a room arranged like that of a cooking classroom in a Japanese high school.
The ingredients were already prepared and measured, as were the utensils. Normally, this would describe the scene of a typical cooking class. However, there were certain 'nuanced' differences. For one, the ingredients had a visible aura to them, and the utensils were enchanted with magical script.
"Strange," Ophis commented. She had seen 'magical' food before, but the enchantments were foreign to her.
"It's called [Script], I created it," Aragorn said. "A downgraded version could probably be designed to work with this world's mana."
Aragorn touched Ophis' mind with his telepathy and transferred to her a skeleton of a [Script]. Since she lacked void energy, she would never be able to inscribe it, but she could use it as a reference to create a form of [Script] suitable for her.
And she did just that. A being of her level of existence operated on a different scale and followed different norms. To her, one who had been since before the time of humanity, adapting a new system to fit her needs after getting its skeleton structure gift-wrapped in her mind was easy.
So, a few seconds later, a thin snake—almost one-dimensional—squirmed from the tip of her index finger and formed a complex pattern over a chopping board she had reached for. The pattern wriggled and shifted, it pulsed with different gradients of power, and then it settled into a fixed form.
Once the inscription was completed, she brought the chopping board to her mouth and—
Crunch
—took a bite of it.
"..." Aragorn facepalmed.
"Sweet, but different," Ophis commented.
Yes, Ophis took Aragorn's work—the enchantment runic system he had created and perfected throughout millions of years—and used it to enchant [Sweetness] into a plastic chopping board.
Ophis had a one-track mind; maybe two-track. She cared for sweets and silence, silence and sweets, that was it.
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Non-descript dark alley where good children shouldn't wander, Kuoh Town.
"WHAT DID I DO TO YOU?!" The agonized, desperate cries of a victim rang so loud that one would wonder how no one was calling the police.
"By the virtue of your existence, you can't afford the luxury of rights!" Words that carried an undertone of racism, judgment, and finality replied to the victim's pleas.
"NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO, NO! I DID NOTHING TO DESERVE THIS! THIS IS NOT FAIR, I WAS MINDING MY BUSINESS!" The victim knew that their pleas were falling on deaf ears.
Those eyes—those cold eyes that saw the victim not as a living being, but as an object, a resource. Eyes that spoke volumes of self-centrism. Eyes that held no animosity because the holder couldn't bother to experience animosity for a thing, an object.
"The world will be a better place with your absence!" It was a declaration so full of conviction that it became an apparent fact that the speaker held no doubt whatsoever.
"SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP! HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT?!" The victim stumbled and fell, yet they didn't care to register the fall. All they cared about was making it to the light outside the dark alley—the light that now, more than ever, spelled hope for salvation.
"Now, let your sacrifice be fuel for the eradication of your kind. Be happy about powering my growth!" the aggressor declared.
A crimson light cast shadows and illuminated the terrified face of the victim.
"NOOOOOOO—"
The cries stopped with the complete destruction of the victim.
"Evil Buchou?" Koneko asked.
"Eh? How rude, Koneko!" Rias complained about what she felt was uncalled-for rudeness. "Stray devils who lose themselves and turn into monsters have no rights."
"Yes, but..." Koneko found no fault in her King's logic, but even then, she was certain there was something strange about the events she had just witnessed.
"How many does this make?" Rias asked while preparing to lower the barrier she had erected to hide the execution.
"13, Buchou," Koneko replied.
"I don't think we'll find more stray devils in Kuoh, will we?" Rias muttered.
"Should we expand our area of operation?" Koneko asked.
"Yes. I'll talk to Sona about it," Rias nodded. "Maybe I should ask Onii-sama about it."
"Buchou, won't he worry about you placing yourself at risk?" Koneko asked. She knew Sirzechs Lucifer for the man he was—a sis-con.
"Ugh." Rias' grunting carried her agreement with Koneko's statement.
"We'll be late, Buchou," Koneko reminded her while pointing out the time.
"Ah!" Rias jolted. "Let's hurry! We can't be late for the first class!"
Rias sprinted out of the alley with Koneko by her side.
Jiggle Wiggle
Jiggle Wiggle
Once more, Koneko felt insulted and decided to up the difficulty of her spars with her King.
A short run later, under the wide-open eyes of the passersby—after leaving behind several hunched-forward men and disgruntled women—Rias and Koneko made it to their cooking class just in time.
When they stepped inside the cooking classroom, their first thought was 'cute' upon spotting the loli dressed in a chef's outfit, and their second was 'caution' upon feeling the magical energy lazily churning inside Aragorn.
"Welcome, my ladies," Aragorn greeted with an expression meant to convey servitude and friendliness.
It was obviously a fake expression—just as most of his were—but it was so indistinguishable from the authentic thing that Rias and Koneko took him at face value. Naturally, it helped that he was accompanied by his 'daughter' and that he was handsome even by devil standards.
"It's an honor to have the princess of the Gremory and her peerage member in my first class," Aragorn said with a subtle bow. "You can call me Kyomu-sensei, and this is my daughter, Mugen-chan. I hope you don't mind her presence during class."
"Kyomu-sensei, it is not a problem," Rias said. Koneko nodded in agreement beside her.
"Come in, don't stay in the doorframe," Aragorn said while gesturing toward the prepared counters. "There are aprons near that rack with your names on them. You can also find hairnets."
The devils quickly donned the cooking attire and took their place behind a counter with the prepared ingredients and utensils.
The class soon began with Aragorn explaining the origin of the ingredients and their preparation.
"These are Earth-kissed strawberries." Aragorn lifted the strawberries with his telekinesis and presented them. "You can buy this from any pantheon with a deity related to agriculture, gardens, or vegetation."
Rias and Koneko looked at the fruits with curiosity. It was not the first time they'd seen products imported from foreign pantheons, but it was curious to find them in a cooking class that appeared unassuming at first glance on the DevilNet.
"Additionally, we'll use Aether-Whipped Cream, Solar-Aged Sweetener, Vital Essence, Alchemical Salt Binder, and a few drops of rosewater purified by hydromancy." Each time an ingredient was mentioned, it hovered for a second on their counters.
"During the first class, I'll show you how it's done in your respective counters so that you can decide whether to continue with the rest of the course or not," Aragorn said. "The spells used are my own patents, but I'll teach you how to wield them with your demonic power. This comes included in the price of the lessons."
True to his words, Rias and Koneko stood transfixed as they observed with rapt attention. The ingredients moved on their own and slowly turned into strawberry ice cream.
By the end of the class, in front of each girl—Ophis included—stood a quart of strawberry ice cream and a glass cup of served ice cream. There was a visible aura to the ice cream, and the smell was so tantalizing that the girls had to gulp down the saliva the prevent it from pooling in their mouths.
"Kyomu-sensei," Koneko said. Her words were closer to a question than a statement.
"Go ahead, try it. That's what the served cup is for," Aragorn said. "You can take the quart to share with your friends."
The girls reached for the ambrosia-like ice cream with shaking hands. The moment Ophis took the first bite, her eyes lit up with an otherworldly gleam. Koneko was the second to get a taste of heaven—her cat ears and tail popped up. Rias was the last. She had to lean on the counter for support; her legs went weak.
Then they remembered Aragorn's words. They all had the same thought: 'Share? Who would dare to share this?'
Ophis gave Aragorn a resentful look that said, 'You dared hold back on me?! It's been over a week, and this is the first time you've made something this magical! How dare you?! Courting death!' Yes, she said all of this with one look.
Rias and Koneko, who were not sitting on the counter like Ophis, had to reach for a stool; their legs were about to give out.
It looked as if, for a moment, the jiggle physics of the DxD multiverse were going to evolve and adopt the logic of the Shokugeki no Soma multiverse.
Their breathing was becoming ragged, an erotic blush painted their cheeks, their eyes moistened with delight, and whispered moans graced the room.
And while this show was going on, all Aragorn could think was, 'What the fuck is wrong with this multiverse?'
Yeah, Aragorn had no idea this was going to be the result of trying to replicate the food of the replicators from Earth-5H1N3 with the magical ingredients of this world.
Now, Aragorn was not a loli-con—unless it was Death shifted into a loli—so the scene of Koneko breathing heavily with a blush and moistened eyes didn't give him a raise. But even then, ignoring the overly erotic redhead in the room, if a man had gotten a boner at the sight, he would not have accused them of loliphilia. That was how much the DxD multiverse warped reality.
'If this multiverse had a personification, would it be a big-milkers mommy?'
-Probably a big-milkers goth mommy.-
|That's agreeable. The maximum expression of eroticism is a big-titty goth mommy.|
>We (I) should ask Noona to take that form in our next session.<
It was only five minutes later that Rias and Koneko managed to compose themselves. Ophis, with her Dragon God physiology, was not affected in such a way, so the sight of the 'child' eating the ice cream with gusto without turning into a mess made them blush further with embarrassment.
"K-Kyomu-sensei," Rias stammered. "We'll take our leave. We'll see you in the next class."
The devils, like Gollum with the One Ring, grabbed their quarts of the boxed emulsion of strawberry-flavored orgasms and left with an unapologetic teleportation circle.
"She, smelled like you," Ophis commented as the shimmer of the teleportation dimmed down.
"Shortly after we arrived, I sneaked into her room and placed a core in her," Aragorn explained.
"Core?" Ophis tilted her head. "Baby?" she asked.
"No, not that kind of core," Aragorn chuckled.
He brought his palm facing up in front of Ophis, and from a small incision, a droplet of his blood—resembling liquid light—emerged. He manipulated the droplet and suffused it with his energy and an artificial Self.
"I'm working on something called a System," Aragorn explained. Ophis' eyes followed the core with curiosity. "That's why I approached her today. I was making sure her System was working as intended and collecting data."
"Can, I?" Ophis asked while reaching for the core.
Aragorn nodded and pushed the core to her chest. The droplet of light melted into her, and she blinked rapidly before her eyes seemed to fix into the void.
"Cooking System?" Ophis asked.
"Yes. It will reward you with recipes the more you level your cooking skill," Aragorn smiled before petting her head softly. "It should also protect you in the worst-case scenario."
"I, need not protection," Ophis said. She was not displeased, though; she was simply stating facts.
"Sure, but you're an idiot loli who split her power between the hands of scum," Aragorn chastised. "You underestimate the creativity of evil, Ophis."
"Evil?" Ophis asked.
"Yes, dear Ophis," Aragorn nodded, his eyes turning red. "Let me show you a memory of what lengths I can reach when I allow evil to become my instrument."
Aragorn brought his forehead to hers and made a temporary psionic link. In his mind/soulscape, Ophis manifested next to Aragorn's draconic astral projection. With no words needed, Ophis climbed atop Aragorn's head, and then he took her to a particular memory.
'This is the Void beyond your Multiverse, Ophis.'
Ophis was a being of sufficient level to 'see' the Void, and while similar to Phoenix (shard), she couldn't recognize the chaotic phase of the Void. She could, however, observe all of its empty glory and not lose her mind.
'This is my place of birth. The Dimensional Gap between Multiverses.'
The memory showed several of the Multiverses Aragorn had encountered while in the Void, as well as his surface-level understanding of its nature.
'I dislike all scum alike.'
Recounts of those Aragorn had met who fit the criteria of 'scum' surfaced in the memory.
'Pure souls are bright, shiny, lustrous, and beautiful. Pure souls deserve not the stain of scum.'
Although Ophis had the possibility of observing souls, this was not an innate ability as it was for Aragorn. Given her dismissive attitude to anything outside her bubble of interest, she could count the souls she had observed with one hand.
'My family, those I claim as mine, those who spark my fire of love, those who I can call my equals and are close to me—they are important.'
Ophis observed as Therions, Abstracts, the One Above All, and even she and Great Red appeared in the memory.
'And the scum who harm them... For them, I reserve the sharpest, most dull, intense, drawn-out, protracted, and succinct form of suffering I know.'
Two men came into view. One of them had mismatched eyes and a curved horn wrapped around his forehead; the other was equally pale, with red eyes and a rhombus on his forehead.
Ophis saw how one of them caused Aragorn to miss the birth of his first grandchildren, Sarah and Vladarion, and how that same one had caused untold suffering to two women not dissimilar from the Phoenix she knew. The other maimed, tortured, and pummeled to the ground a woman with long pale white hair, two pupil-less eyes, and one red vertical eye on her forehead.
'These were and are Isshiki Ōtsutsuki and Nathaniel Essex. I hated and hate them. So with the help of Void-chan, we blessed them with the ultimate form of torture we can perpetrate to this day.'
Ophis' eyes widened at what she saw and comprehended through Aragorn's memory.
Their souls were subjected to the equivalent of atomization while completely aware of the process, then reconstruction through a paradox she didn't understand, and then atomization once more. This was happening in The Void, where the concepts of [Time] and [Space] could not exist. Hence, they were experiencing present, past, and future atomizations all at once, all together, for eternity.
'Their suffering is infinite, and their torment increases infinitely. This, dear Ophis, is what evil looks like.'
Aragorn reached for Ophis' astral form atop his head with his massive clawed hand and then brought her eye to eye. For once, listlessness couldn't be found in her expression.
'Ophis, if someone were to slight you, would you go beyond killing them?' Aragorn asked.
The shocked, and even somewhat afraid, dragon loli shook her head in denial. For all of her terrifying might, Aragorn was sure that he might unearth more capacity for evil in Kunou than in Ophis if he were to look deep enough.
To Aragorn, Ophis' response to affronts and slights was just like the words Fury had once uttered: 'Kill and be done.'
'Ophis, I may be a great entity in many aspects, but even then, I would not claim to have a greater capacity for evil than the sapient lower lifeforms.'
'You don't?' Ophis asked. To her, on this day she discovered what she would call ultimate evil, and this same evil was now claiming to be nothing impressive or outstanding when compared to others.
'The only difference between me and them is the lengths my power allows me to reach. Be not mistaken, though—any mortal with my resources and enough hate and evil in their hearts would have done the same.'
Ophis' silence was her reply. She could not speak, for her mind was too preoccupied with processing what this knowledge meant.
Aragorn slowly brought them out of his soul/mindscape and dissolved the link between their minds.
"Ophis, when you shared your power with the Chaos Brigade, you gave them the means to reach greater lengths," Aragorn said.
His words were like thunder strikes to her heart. She visibly jolted and gasped. Her eyes opened wide in terror, panic, and regret.
'That's why I call you an idiot,' Aragorn thought but didn't say out loud.
While Aragorn was introducing Ophis to evil, in the dormitory where Rias stayed when in the human world, a package had arrived.
Rias scrutinized the package with a glare reserved for the worst of her enemies. The reason was the aura of dread emanating from it. It almost felt as if it stung her skin—like that tingling, itchy feeling on sunburned skin.
"I only need to develop enough resistance to the pain, right?" she asked out loud.
⌈Affirmative. Resistance to Holy/Light damage is impossible due to the host's nature as a devil. However, the threshold of pain can be trained.⌋
Rias, with none of the excitement normally found in someone opening a package, unboxed a glass bottle with a cross emblazoned on it.
She uncapped the bottle and, with a shaking hand, dipped in the outermost layer of the skin on her pinky finger.
"Uuh," a low whimper of pain and regret escaped her lips.
She was not looking forward to the future.
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Earth-199999.
~84 BE (Before Emergence) ~ 1939 CE (Current Era).
"Historically, this is not the first time you sit with a representative of a human ruling power, is it?"
"No, it isn't. I've sat across a few kings and emperors, even their female counterparts."
"But this may be one of the first times you expose your appearance under the cloak of stars."
"Uhmm, only once after the start of civilization, but if you look at the cave paintings with attention, you'll see nascent humanity met me first in this attire."
"As intriguing as studying the guesswork of prehistoric art historians is, life has kept me busy with other matters."
"Guesswork, huh?... Yeah, after reading some of the theories they come up with, I can see why you might refer to it as guesswork."
"If it isn't too much to ask of your enlightenment..."
"Go ahead, ask away."
"As per the paintings found in the Altamira and La Mouthe caves, what is it that you were doing in the instances you were depicted next to fallen humans?"
"Ah, a human asking a question related to death. How unoriginal."
"Forgive me, Ackila, but no matter the status I wield, I remain a mortal. Tales about rulers coveting immortality from you are enough to dissuade anyone with a brain, but little is known about the reasoning behind your actions—your motivations."
"I understand where you come from, but still, I was expecting something grander, like maybe the meaning of life, questions about your future, the future of the war, the world, about the origin of life, or maybe the planet itself. Alas, I shall answer. I collect souls."
"... Souls? Like demons in the Holy Book?"
"Part of the mythos of demons collecting souls is based on my wraiths collecting souls for me. I can't be everywhere, can I?"
"The same wraiths some claim to have spotted in crowded battlefields? The ones that stopped the first propagation of the Black Death?"
"The same ones. They are part of me. You could say that all souls in this world belong to me. I collect my property after its passing."
"Could I inquire about the purpose behind your actions?"
"No. Even if I told you, you wouldn't understand. But fret not—after your souls serve my purpose, their final destination is that of the 'Great Beyond' you believe in."
"As a believer of the one and only God above all deities, I can't express how much that relieves me of my existential worries."
"A believer, you?"
"..."
"There's no need to lie. Your words to me are not public statements. You'll gain no support from me whether you believe in Him or not. In fact, if I cared about that, given my role with the then-Hebrews, now-Jews, I would have probably struck you down right here. I care not for the belief systems of mortals."
"I... I understand. Honesty is all you shall receive from me from now on."
"You can lie, if that makes you feel better, but, like I said, there's no need."
"Then, Ackila, let's get to the core of it. To what do I owe the pleasure of your unexpected but exalting visit?"
"Ever since the Kristallnacht, November 1938, with the coordinated pogroms across Germany and Austria—where Jewish homes, businesses, and synagogues were attacked, and thousands of Jews were arrested and sent to concentration camps—slaughter has been happening."
"That is a truth I can't nor intend to deny. I've gone to great lengths to rid the world of the blood-poisoners."
"Please spare me the propaganda. I hold as much contempt for Jews as I do for your Aryan race. I hold the entirety of humanity in contempt. You don't need to sell me your racism. I have more than your meager antisemitism in me. Your entire race disgusts me just as it fascinates me."
"... That's not something I ever thought of hearing from the 'Protector of Humanity'."
"The fact that I protect humanity doesn't mean I love you. Moving on—your concentration camps must be expensive to run, aren't they? And killing so many people can be costly."
"The minimal conditions are secured before more efficient methods are designed to rid the world of the subhumans. Even with these minimal conditions, I can't say they don't pose a significant dip in our coffers."
"Not only that, but you're also waging war with approximately 73% of the entire First World. That can't be cheap."
"A challenge it is, but it is nothing my great Deutschland cannot overcome. It is simply an opportunity for my Aryan people disguised as an obstacle."
"Whatever you want to tell yourself."
"..."
"Like I said, spare me the propaganda. I demand you sell me the Jews you hold in captivity of ages on the clock. I'll also buy pregnant women. I can pay you in rations or resources since, thanks to your efforts, no monetary system holds much significance at the moment."
"... This is not something I can decide without my cabinet."
"Don't deflect. Don't stall. Don't waste my time. You're the Führer—your word is law, and if someone dares to speak about it, then just say that it was my wish and demand."
"What would be the destination of the spongers' spawns?"
"... Why? If I tell you that I'll ascend them to divinity, would you dare to stand in my path? Have you stopped being grateful that I'm being civil enough to buy them from your hands and not take them as my property, as every living being on this planet is?"
"Ackila, it was not my intention to question your motives and desires. As you have declared, your wishes and desires cross over human borders and will. My people's land will not stand in the way. One word from you would be enough to turn my people and the entire world against me. I dread that future."
"It's good to hear that the space between your ears isn't empty. As I demanded before, sell them to me in exchange for rations and resources. Though, if I'm being honest, I would rather you choose I pay you with rations. I'm not fond of your pointless and stupid war. I would rather not see the resources I use to pay you being used on the battlefield."
"Would that be different than using your rations to feed my men?"
"Humans must eat. Humans like to wage war. That's the difference."
"... How would transportation of the parasites be handled?"
"Keep doing what you've been doing. Transport the Jews to your ghettos and concentration camps. I'll have my Duskari handle transportation. If the costs hike up higher than you can handle, then just drop them at the nearest Obelisk."
"I understand your will, Ackila. What would the price be per Juden?"
"I'll pay you 18 times the weight of each child or mother."
"18?"
"Yes. I'm saving their lives, and they are Jews—shouldn't I use a number of symbolic importance? Besides, 18 times their weight should be enough to keep your people from dying of hunger. You can even sell the excess, if there's any, to your allies."
"I'm not in a position to complain about the price, Ackila. I'll pass a Führererlass first thing come tomorrow." {A/N: Führer Edict.}
"Starting afternoon tomorrow, my Duskari will arrive at the designated locations."
"Thank you for your patronage, Ackila."
"Patronage?... but is it really?" With those words, Aragorn jumped and disappeared.
'Well, that wasn't as disgusting as I thought it would be.'
|His soul was disgusting.|
-No wonder, among all the dead, Noona remembers his soul.-
>It wouldn't be fair to declare him the most evil human—there's been worse, there will be worse—but the way he believed his lies was impressive.<
'It was a good idea to micromanage our (my) emotions.'
|The 'hidden' loophole for them to exploit was smart.|
-It won't be long before the war goes to shit and they'll be forced to use the loophole.-
>The best manipulation is the type that makes the manipulated believe they tricked the manipulator.<
When the war started—just as it happened during World War I—a statement about the Isthmus' neutrality was released, as well as the declaration of the Obelisks as neutral ground. However, one thing that caught every power's eye was the accompanying statement of Aquila's agreement with Hitler for the purchase of Jews.
In any era where humans were found to be treated as items for purchase—pretty much since before the start of civilization—Aragorn has been the majority buyer of slaves. Hence, his purchase of humans was not news.
Yet, what was new was that he was 'supporting' one side of the war. Since he was doing business with Germany, he could be considered a supporter of their cause.
Aragorn was aware that humans, with their need to find meanings where there were none, would make a mountain out of a molehill. To combat this—and frankly, because Aragorn wanted to personally witness some of the upcoming moments of history—he took a more in-person role on the Allies' side.
Hence, long before the USA even joined the war, Aragorn was seen across the battlefields acting as a trauma surgeon.
"Akila, don't sugarcoat it, tell me the truth—will I be able to walk?" a Russian soldier missing his entire legs asked.
"Maybe," Aragorn said while using his biokinesis to temporarily seal the wound.
Since his legs were blasted and not severed, the wound was a mangled mess of raw flesh with pieces dangling, half-connected to the stump of pulled flesh.
"How big are you on transplants?" Aragorn asked.
"Akila, I took a shovel since before I can remember and I only put it down to join this goddamned war. I don't know what a transplant is, but if it can help me plow the soil after this nightmare ends, then you don't need to ask me."
Transplants, in the original history, wouldn't have been a viable reality until after 1959, when immunosuppressants became usable. But, due to the influence of the Libralisk and its community of genius vampires, this and many other achievements had been reached sooner than they originally should have.
"Okay, then sleep. You'll be like new when you wake up."
In the tent where Aragorn was treating victims of the war, other notable figures of the medical world were present, learning from him.
They couldn't comprehend certain steps because Aragorn used his biokinesis to replace drugs, antibiotics, and any other medications normally needed, but he was patient enough to use his telekinesis to allow the humans to follow the surgical part of his work.
As the war progressed and inflation began to hit Germany like a sledgehammer a coughing baby, they found the no-brainer solution of forcing the Jews to impregnate their women—because an adult was evidently heavier than a baby.
This was the so-called loophole Aragorn had left for them. While the amount of fucks Aragorn gave for the adults' lives was equivalent to zero, he operated under directives to not become an eldritch monster of no morals, so he gave a chance for the Jews to at least save their women.
Not because he believed women were more important than men, but because it was the easiest solution. Men, after all, in human society, have no intrinsic value.
So, even with all the despicable antisemitism of the Third Reich plaguing Germany and its controlled territories, the number of lives lost was about half of the expected total. Granted, these mothers would be ejected from their bodies, and their souls would be sent to the ABMaxes after childbirth, and none of their Jewish culture would be preserved, but Aragorn only cared about their souls.
Besides, given that Aragorn was recognized as an Apostle, Saint, and nigh-divine being (the rank humans gave to any divinity that wasn't Yahweh), his words carried more weight than those of any Chief Rabbi or Pope. Hence, he was sure that even after the war, when his actions would fully come to light and none of the mothers would return, none would reproach him.
And if they did... What of it?
Throughout the war, he met various humans he could openly declare heroes—like Irena Sendler, a Polish social worker who dedicated her efforts to saving babies just like Aragorn was doing.
He encountered Witold Pilecki, a cavalry captain in the Polish Army, in Auschwitz, gathering intelligence and organizing a resistance movement within the camp. That was somewhat awkward because he had to pretend not to see him.
He even helped Oskar Schindler get started with his enamelware factory in Kraków.
By the year 1943, Aragorn was a famous and peculiar figure of the war. He visited random Allied camps, brought rations, healed the wounded, sometimes even helped get correspondence shipped to their families, and then left for the next camp.
It became common to find him either in his human form in Allied camps or flying between camps in his massive draconic form.
It was due to this, his status, and the many connections that he made during his healing tours, that on June 22nd he was invited by the US military to witness the next step of warfare: Project Rebirth.
Strategic Scientific Reserve, Brooklyn Facility...
"This is quite the achievement," Aragorn commented while a vial with a blue liquid floated in front of his face. "Not only the serum, but the Vitaray radiation technology is also something beyond the current generation."
"It's an honor to hear your praise, Apostle A'Heelah," Erskine replied.
"Just A'Heelah is enough," Aragorn said while waving the idolatry off.
"Mr. Abner, I had you penned for an immortal recluse of the times before humanity. I didn't know you dabbled in technology too," Howard Stark commented. He was surprised by how easily Aragorn recognized, with a glance, his technology.
"Imagine what would have happened to humanity if 300,000 years ago I came up to a caveman and showed off my technological prowess," Aragorn chuckled.
"That's... I don't believe I can grasp that scale," Stark said with a sheepish grin.
"Most of the technology of the Isthmus can be traced back to my original inventions, though I must confess that it's been millions of years since I last created something new," Aragorn said.
"Millions?" Howard Stark asked, his eyelid twitching.
"Yes. I've left matters of innovation to my children for a while now," Aragorn commented.
"Children?!" Howard Stark exclaimed.
"...How come you're more surprised about my progeny than the timescale?" Aragorn asked. Like with 100% of the Starks he had met, Aragorn couldn't fathom their thought process without actually reading their minds.
"No, well..." Howard Stark looked left and right, searching for support. Erskine feigned not to know him, and the other politicians and military personnel in the room wisely chose to mind their own business. "I mean, Mr. Abner, don't take it the wrong way, but your age is something that, while surprising, if we follow the studied records of the Northern Wall, we can peer at. Your direct family, on the other hand? That's the stuff of speculation."
"Doesn't the Southern Wall portray the deities of the Drachanthen Therion?" Aragorn asked.
The northern face of the Northern Wall held a compendium of human history and that of the planet; however, it didn't contain data on Aragorn and his family. The southern face of the Southern Wall did, as it was a monument to Aragorn's children.
"But based on what we've been able to understand, they are not part of your bloodline," Howard Stark said.
"That is true in the most mundane sense of the word 'progeny', but although we don't share bloodlines, I created two of them with my hands, so they are my daughters in every sense of the word," Aragorn said.
Truthfully, the core that housed the Therions' contracts and souls was made with pieces of his being. So in a way, given that they carry part of Aragorn in their souls and bodies, every Therion had something of him in them, and that tied them closer than any double helix of deoxyribonucleic acid ever did. Regardless, Aragorn was not going to explain that in the current setting.
"That's enlightening," Howard absentmindedly commented. "Which ones? Is it the draconic ones?"
"No, all draconic deities of Apostle A'Heelah's family are descendants of the Goddess of Leadership and Protection, bar A'Heelah's mate, the Goddess of Death," Erskine explained. There was an accusing undertone to his words.
Information about the only living Apostle recognized by all Abrahamic religions was something that most believers knew. On that matter, on this Earth, there were few atheists, since two goddesses could be easily found in the Sanctum Ingeniorum. And although it was widely known that these deities and those related to Aragorn were not all-powerful and all-knowing, it was undeniable that they were different from mortals.
Another curious, yet logical, fact about this Earth was that the answer to 'Are we alone?' came long before the question was posed, when it was seen through a telescope in the detailing of the Kree visits to the planet in the Northern Wall.
"I'm an apatheist. I don't concern myself with the deities of Earth," Howard Stark shrugged.
"The Goddess of Dreams and Wisdom, Seraph, and the Goddess of Knowledge and Technology, Spark, were the ones who took care of the technological advancements of the Drachantheon Therion, and to a lesser extent, of the Imperium," Aragorn replied.
"Then, Mr. Abner, what do you think about my Vitarays infusion technology?" Howard Stark asked.
"The energy efficiency is trash, but for the technology of the era, you can say you outdid yourself. If I were to point to a potential improvement, I would say you could loop the emission cells and change the dampening panels to a reflective material. It won't be a large improvement—about 1.46%—but it is something." Aragorn's explanation was accompanied by holographic diagrams he conjured with his psionic energy.
"This... Yeah, I can picture what you mean," Howard Stark muttered. "I encountered a few practical limitations that didn't surface during the theoretical designing phase."
"It's groundbreaking technology," Aragorn praised. "Is the secrecy behind this project the reason your discoveries haven't made it to the Libralisk?"
"You got it right in one try," Howard nodded.
"Interests fuel and obstruct the collection of knowledge," Aragorn commented. "I can find 89 applications that can be derived from your Vitarays technology in the medical and industrial fields at first glance. Yet none of them would make it to the public since your work is fated to be hidden behind closed doors and bureaucracy."
"I agree with you, Mr. Abner, but I also understand the point of my country," Howard Stark said.
"Don't worry. Rather than finding fault in this country, I blame humanity as a whole," Aragorn declared.
With a twitching smile, Howard Stark asked, "Is that better?"
Aragorn didn't reply and instead rested his eyes on the Super Soldier Serum.
"I don't think I need to inform you about the obvious flaw in the serum, right?" Aragorn asked Erskine.
"The behavioral warping," Erskine replied with a self-deprecating expression.
"A serum that 'boosts everything' sounds more like a potion with magic involved than a proper serum for bodily enhancement, doesn't it?" Aragorn asked.
"It's a flaw that has seen great improvement since the first iteration of the serum, but to this day it remains something almost inherent to the nature of the serum," Erskine replied with regret in his voice.
"So rather than fixing the serum, you 'fixed' the sample." Aragorn turned to the closed doors of the lab. Howard Stark and Erskine followed his gaze, and then the sample walked in, accompanied by Margaret Carter.
"Indeed, finding the appropriate sample was the easiest path," Erskine smiled proudly.
Like the eyes of the many present in the lab and the observation gallery had done upon his arrival, Steve Rogers and Margaret Carter locked onto Aragorn's figure first.
"I was not aware of our esteemed guest's visit," Margaret Carter mumbled to Colonel Chester Phillips.
"Due to the high profile of our guest," the Colonel said without turning to Margaret Carter, "only the top brass were informed."
"Sir," Steve Rogers greeted Aragorn. "I'm a fan of your work in this war and throughout history—in healing and being a force of good."
"I'm a fan of the shine of your soul," Aragorn replied, his eyes shifting between gold and green.
"The kid's soul?" Howard Stark interjected.
"Yes. Bright and clean souls can often be found only in children," Aragorn explained. "Rarely do I see them in adults."
"Should I be afraid of asking about mine?" Howard Stark asked with a faltering, yet confident and cocky grin.
"It's alright," Aragorn shrugged.
"Somehow that reaction was not the same as with the kid," Howard Stark mumbled.
"There's some subjectivity to it," Aragorn turned to Margaret Carter. "Hers is just a tiny bit brighter than yours, but do you think your characters, morality, and karma are similar? One is a capable agent and the other a smart playboy. Following the conceptions of morality of the Western world, hers should be brighter than yours, yet they are not that different."
"..." The subjects of his comparison didn't know how to reply to that, so silence was the smart answer.
"Don't fret much. It's not something that matters in your short lives," Aragorn said before turning back to Steve Rogers. "Just live your best lives while being true to yourselves."
"Thank you for your words, Sir," Steve Rogers replied.
Aragorn nodded and then disappeared before drawing gasps in the gallery with his reappearance.
A few minutes later, the birth of the first Super Soldier began.
Bright lights blinded the mortals, the shouts of pain deafened their ears, and finally, a power outage closed the eyes of the residents above the lab. The generators kicked in a moment later, and then the Vitaray pod opened with a dramatic mist, and the heavy breathing of the now most attractive man echoed in the silence of astonishment his transformation begat.
The previous tense mood immediately shifted to one of joy and hope. The expectations of the peanut gallery soared; their greed was sparked by the possibilities. And then, an explosion, a gunshot—not in that particular order—and the cries of agony killed the previous mood.
All of this happened under Aragorn's gaze, yet he only moved to accompany Erskine in his last seconds.
"Will you take me to my lord?" he asked while Rogers held his weak, trembling hand.
Aragorn didn't reply immediately. He turned to the newborn Super Soldier and reminded him of his surrounding reality. "If you don't go after him, the serum will make it to the wrong hands, and the world will forevermore condemn Erskine."
"I—I, Sir," Steve Rogers stammered.
"Go," Aragorn hoisted him up with his telekinesis. "Such is the responsibility of the strong, such is the mantle you craved for and assumed with pride."
Steve Rogers nodded and blasted forth behind the escaping squid.
"What is it you desire?" Aragorn asked the dying man, who was only alive due to Aragorn's draconic interference with his wife's claim of the mortal's life. "Not once, even with me here, have you thought of seeking my help. Instead, you ask about your destination. Is it that you desire death?"
"It's my time, A'Heelah," Erskine found the breath to reply. "I've done enough good and bad for this world. I'm tired, my Apostle."
"Regret. So Johann Schmidt, is it?" Aragorn asked.
Erskine didn't reply. His gaze was enough of a response. A few seconds later, under the disbelieving eyes of the still panic-stricken witnesses, Aragorn pulled Erskine's soul from his dead body. His form maintained corporeal shape for a moment before making the motion of taking a deep breath and then becoming a formless soul. It was as if the weight of the world left him.
Aragorn turned to the surviving politicians and military men. He nodded to them, their wounds disappeared with the gesture, and then he teleported away.
The birth of the world's first Super Soldier might have been a matter of great importance to the USA, but after Aragorn satisfied his curiosity, he had nothing else to do there. His presence was better needed in the ongoing war.
Thousands of J-Babies demanded his help and care, just as millions of soldiers desperately craved his healing.
Four months passed, and Aragorn continued his business relationship with the Third Reich. Some of the Allied states questioned him about feeding the German army. To this, Aragorn asked them to make a public request to cease his humanitarian trade in helping J-Babies make it out of the hellish nightmare reality had become for them.
No such publication was made, and so Aragorn continued doing what he willed.
Almost five months after the success of Project Rebirth, the camp in which Aragorn was healing was attacked by Hydra forces.
It was total obliteration, with only the wounded guarded in his temporary medical complex surviving.
"NO!"
"MARK!"
"STOP!"
"LET ME GO! I WILL DIE WITH MY BROTHER!"
"STOP IT, AKILA!"
"DO SOMETHING!"
"THEY ARE BEING SLAUGHTERED!"
"AAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHH"
"NOOOOOOOOOO!"
Shouts of despair and demands for action rang in the tent, accompanied by the cries of death coming from outside.
"Annoying," Aragorn muttered, and soon after, the wounded all fell asleep.
The medical staff looked around with concern, but they all calmed down after Aragorn informed them their patients were asleep.
When the last of the primary detonations subsided, he calmly stepped outside the tent.
Surrounding him were the Hydra squids armed with Tesseract-powered weapons far ahead of their time.
"Why the hesitation?" Aragorn asked. His flat-toned voice made the brainwashed humans shiver.
"Herr Ackila, we do not oppose an acquaintance of the Führer," the one who appeared to be commanding the Hydra unit spoke.
"Deception is an unwise choice," Aragorn calmly said. "The Allies may not know it yet, but I'm aware Hydra betrayed Deutschland a few weeks ago."
"...Ah, Herr Ackila, that does complicate matters for us," the commander said.
"Are your orders to test your new toys on me?" Aragorn asked. "Or is this about inviting me to visit your deranged leader?"
"..." Silence reigned in the burning camp, with only the snapping sounds of fire and the rustling of the wind making an appearance.
"FEUER!" he commanded—open fire.
Indiscriminate blue cosmic energy shot forward at Aragorn, yet the moment each shot connected with him, they disappeared.
The squids couldn't comprehend it, because to their mortal eyes, the energy discharges were disappearing upon contact—but Aragorn was absorbing the Tesseract energy.
Aragorn's bored gaze almost overwrote with dread the brainwashing of the drones shooting at him. The commander knew his death was imminent, so he did the only thing a Hydra agent could.
"Hail Hydra!"
Craaaaaack
A long, cracking sound reverberated after Aragorn snapped their necks all at once.
Aragorn's tail swayed once, and the fire burning the camp was extinguished. He then moved back inside the temporary healing center and continued healing the last of the wounded.
A few hours later, he ordered the medical practitioners to look after the wounded and to await his return. He shifted to his draconic form and flew in the direction of Johann Schmidt.
Not only was the signature of the Space Stone a massive flag pinpointing his location, but on this Earth, wherever a soul needed reaping, one of Aragorn's SplitSelves awaited—and given the number of corpses that followed the Red Skull, his location couldn't be more obvious to Aragorn.
An instant later, Aragorn dropped on top of the Hydra facility where the Red Skull awaited the results of his 'carefully' prepared plan.
Instead, Aragorn, like a meteor kissing the lunar surface—
CRCKBOOOOM!
—leveled the Hydra facility with his arrival.
Johann Schmidt, blessed by his Super Soldier physique, survived the initial crash. But no SSS protected him from being buried alive under the rubble.
After almost two hours of digging himself out under peril and constant exertion, accompanied by rage and wrath, Schmidt saw the first rays of sunlight making it through the debris.
"These MAGGOTS BOMBED ME! ME!? THEY DARED?!" He exploded out of the rubble, his outburst fueled by his wrath and powerful body.
"ARGHHHHHHHH'LL KILL THEM ALL!" he bellowed with a wrathful promise of vengeance.
"It wasn't them," a calm voice stopped him cold in his tracks.
Like a badly oiled machine, he turned around for his red skull to be faced with Aragorn's draconic mien.
There was no anger in Aragorn's eyes, no crimson galaxies, no red nebulae. His eyes kept to their usual color-changing pace. Even then, the terror his slitted eyes invoked in Schmidt was undeniable.
"Will you try to kill me again?" Aragorn asked.
"..." Schmidt had no words or courage to formulate a reply; he knew excuses wouldn't do it.
"The cube—it shines like the Pharos of Alexandria to my senses," Aragorn said. "Do you care to wonder why I never collected it, why I didn't stop you from playing with it, and why I left it in human hands after Odin hid it on Earth?"
"...N-No," Schmidt managed to reply through his clenched jaw.
"It's because it is inconsequential," Aragorn informed the ignorant. "I was there during its birth. Even then, I never cared for it. The cube is as inconsequential to me as your weaponry powered by it was in stopping me from executing your men."
"..." Schmidt gritted his teeth.
"This would normally be around the time I would kill you and make an example of your death, as I have done in the past to single-celled humans," Aragorn said with disinterest. "But..."
That 'but' returned the hope he had lost to Aragorn's first words.
"I think there's no need for that," Aragorn chuckled. "In fact, I think I'm going to love you."
"W-What?" Schmidt feared he was losing his mind.
"You heard me right, Johann Schmidt," Aragorn declared with a bright chuckle. "From this day until your death, I'll make an effort to love you like one does a beloved brother-in-arms.
"When something good happens in my life, I'll think of sharing the news first with you.
"When something awful strikes, your disgusting mug will be among the first to pop up in my mind.
"When the weight of life threatens to flatten me, I'll seek you to share it with you.
"Pals.
"Friends.
"Brothers-in-arms.
"My ride-or-die bitch.
"My besto friendo.
"My comrade.
"My right and left hands.
"That's who you'll be to me, from now on, Schmidt!"
Aragorn's eyes, like a damaged fluorescent lightbulb, flickered in and out of pink and gold.
Schmidt, even with Super Soldier Serum coursing through his veins, couldn't escape his body's vasovagal syncope reflex. The overstimulation, extreme emotional distress, and sudden shock were too much to bear. He passed out.
With a guttural chuckle that hid not the evil intentions in his heart, Aragorn lifted off and flew back to the healing center.
╚═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╝
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{A/N:
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}