Herman had no idea.
Mephisto had already sent Ghost Rider to capture him—back in New York, after washing up, Herman lay in bed and fell asleep while staring at the [All-Seeing Eye] in his mind.
And strangely enough, it worked.
Watching the [All-Seeing Eye], the artifact hailed as the Eye of God, spinning in his mind, Herman found it more effective than any lullaby.
At times, he wondered about the power of the [All-Seeing Eye]. Could it really have something to do with God?
To create an identity out of thin air for someone, to rewrite the history and course of the entire world—it truly felt like the power of a god.
"Hmm, this god probably isn't that one from Marvel. After all, I'm from a higher dimension myself..."
Lost in such random thoughts, Herman drifted off to sleep.
He wasn't sure if it was because he'd used Telekinesis too many times today, or because the mission for the [Hidden Superpowered Being] remained unfinished.
But tonight's nightmare felt more real than ever before.
"You betrayed my family! You betrayed her love for you!"
Superman was roaring in his dream, hammering punches into him again and again. The pain felt sharper than in his past nightmares.
"Fuck that! I'll do whatever the hell I want!" These past days of playing Homelander had rubbed off on him more than he realized.
He fired back with a punch straight to Superman's face. Just like that, the two brawled in the dream, from Earth all the way to the farthest edge of the cosmos.
As for the Living Tribunal? It had already died countless times in his dreams. Even the Great Way of the Universe itself had been ground away—the very will of the universe shattered into pieces.
...
Texas.
After Herman and Mephisto left one after the other, the ruins lay utterly silent.
Soon after, a light drizzle began to fall.
From the distance, a young man in a brown trench coat, his face rough with stubble, walked toward the ruins. Staring at the desolate wasteland of collapsed walls, he let out a heavy sigh.
"You said there'd be a bar I'd like here, and the big bad demon I need most right now. Buddy, lying's not a good habit."
The trench coat man turned his head.
Following him into the wasteland was a figure clad in a red bodysuit, completely covered from head to toe, humming as he walked.
Any Marvel fan would recognize him instantly—Deadpool, the infamous scourge of Marvel.
"Impossible! You must've used some magic! You tricked my eyes!" Deadpool glared at the trench coat man, brimming with indignation.
"What do you think my magic is? Wish fulfillment?" the man shot back, glaring right at him. He looked at Deadpool with deadly seriousness. "Alright, freak. Whatever it is you're planning, do it now. Send me back to my world!"
Hearing that, Deadpool immediately exploded. "What? You think you can just go back before paying me back what you owe? What do you take Deadpool's favors for?"
The trench coat man's eye twitched.
"I don't think breaking into my house and killing my bedmate counts as a favor I owe you." The man in the trench coat sounded helpless.
"That was a Succubus!"
Deadpool shouted.
With two sleek katanas strapped to his back, he looked like a deadly assassin—yet his behavior was as childish as it got.
Oh, and the Barbie doll tucked into his waistband only made him look more ridiculous.
"Did it ever occur to you that maybe I was actually looking for a Succubus?" The trench coat man spread his hands, glaring at Deadpool without blinking.
"Oh, huh. Never thought of that. But she would've drained you dry. You don't have Deadpool's freak-level vitality."
Saying that, Deadpool drew a blade from behind his back and casually hacked off his own arm. A moment later, a brand-new one grew right back.
A clear, self-congratulatory demonstration.
"I once made twenty million dollars selling kidneys wholesale—buy one, get one free!" Deadpool declared proudly.
The trench coat man listened with a complicated look on his face.
"Honestly, buddy, I know a decent shrink. You should really have your head checked."
If he hadn't confirmed Deadpool's identity, he would've thought this lunatic was a demon. What kind of normal person cuts off his own arm? And this whole growing-it-back thing… that was anything but normal.
"Alright, alright, how about this: you help me find your missing God, and I'll help you shake off the demon king hunting you!" Deadpool began bargaining.
"I told you, using magic to divine God is just wishful thinking... The only thing you can do is get me a big demon. Then I'll use that demon to lure out an angel and ask it." The trench coat man repeated his earlier demand.
"There's definitely a big demon here! I wouldn't forget! I'll bet a hundred of my little brothers… hang on, let me check my diary."
Deadpool suddenly pulled a notebook from behind his butt. "Yep, definitely here! I'll bet you a thousand little brothers!"
Good lord.
A thousand little brothers?
Don't you ever think about the fact other people can only make one cut?
"I seriously don't get why you're so hung up on God. Even if you found him, then what?" The trench coat man couldn't understand Deadpool's obsession.
"You don't get it. Yeah, you don't. I love traveling. You know, hopping around the multiverse for fun."
"Then I ran into this damned woman. She actually had the nerve to rip off Deadpool's costume! And worst of all, she wasn't planning to pay Deadpool a single cent in royalties!"
"A bootleg strutting around in front of the real deal! I'll make her pay! She'll be Deadpool's flunky for a thousand years!"
"No—ten thousand years! I'll make her work ten hours a day! Two days off a week at most!" Deadpool's voice seethed with spite.
"Uh… a woman? With your abilities… do you really need to go find God over this?" The trench coat man couldn't wrap his head around the lunatic's logic.
Going to find God… over a wardrobe clash?
And that wasn't even the craziest part. The craziest part was that some woman actually liked this style of outfit? The trench coat man stared at Deadpool's getup, his expression growing stranger by the second.
"I told you, you don't understand. That woman—only the all-knowing, all-powerful God can deal with her." Deadpool grabbed him by the arm. "I've got faith in your God. Unlike ours. Our God's a total loser."
"That word I picked up from the Ancient One. Not this universe's, but another—white beard, scary old guy."
With that, he didn't even wait for the trench coat man to respond.
"There's no big demon here. I'll take you somewhere that definitely has one." Deadpool reached for his deluxe, limited-edition Supreme Upgrade Time-Travel Bracelet.
The next instant, the two of them vanished, as if they had never been there.
...
New York.
Herman jolted awake from his nightmare.
"Damn it, why the hell am I dreaming about Deadpool crashing in?"