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.
————————————————
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
DxD Multiverse, Urakyoto.
In a room outfitted with the latest TV screens and PC, the latest ergonomics chair on the market, and an ample wooden desk, Yasaka stood opposite Aragorn.
This room, Yasaka's office, contrasted quite greatly with the classical Japanese decor of her home; nevertheless, no one likes to work in subpar conditions.
"So, you invited the mother of Lucifer to my land—possibly others—under the excuse of a trade deal for the ingredients you've been getting from Takamagahara?" Yasaka asked, incredulous.
"Isn't it a great opportunity?" Aragorn asked.
"At the risk of exacerbating my increasing headache, I ask, what do you mean?" Yasaka rubbed her temples.
"You managed to spread rumors of Ophis' current residency in your land, but now you must show proof that she is indeed part of your faction, or the other way around," Aragorn replied. "We can have our dear airhead make a short appearance. Besides, won't the trade benefit Urakyoto?"
"I can't say it isn't a good idea on paper, but the thought of having devils in my land isn't comforting," Yasaka confessed.
"Didn't you say that Serafall Leviathan would often drop by when her Magical Girl show had to record in Kyoto or nearby?" Aragorn asked.
"We both know it isn't the same," Yasaka waved her hand off. "Serafall doesn't..."
"Parade around like a young master seeking conflict to show off the superiority of his lineage?" Aragorn completed the sentence.
"I was not going to say that, but you're right," Yasaka said with a light chuckle. "Won't it be a problem with Venelana recognizing Ophis-sama?"
"No, I had Ophis match my Kyomu Persona's apparent asian bloodline when in her Mugen Persona," Aragorn said. "The differences are great enough that aside from the skin tone, hair, and eye color, they would not be similar."
"That was well-thought-out," Yasaka praised.
"We even look similar, like a real father and daughter," Aragorn preened.
"Was this the only reason for your visit? You rarely come to my office," Yasaka said.
"Ah, I discovered some new murky souls parading around as if they were not scum around Urakyoto, what do you want me to do about them?" Aragon asked.
"Have they been misbehaving?" Yasaka asked, her tone sharper.
"No, but I could read their minds if you so want it," Aragorn suggested.
"Mmmmm, how murky?" Yasaka asked, thoughtfully.
"Murky as if they do scummy shit for a living, or did something utterly scummy in the past," Aragorn said.
"Go ahead, please," Yasaka immediately consented.
"Let's see...." Aragorn went silent for a second. "Huh?"
"What? You can't read their minds?" Yasaka asked.
"No, that's impossible within this world," Aragorn quickly denied. "It's just that someone hired them to gather information about Urakyoto in general, and you, if possible, but they never met the contractor. You could call them mercenaries, but they do more than combat."
"That's unnecessarily cautious. Is it possible they took precautions against your mind-reading powers?" Yasaka asked.
"No, I doubt even from the remnants of our psionic energy in the Dimensional Gap, they could extrapolate one of its uses," Aragorn denied. "I think they are taking precautions against Ophis; maybe the contractor was from the Khaos Brigade."
Sigh. "That problematic bunch," Yasaka sighed. "I wouldn't dare, but every time I'm reminded of them, I understand why you call Ophis-sama an idiot."
"Worry not your fluffy brain, Ophis is getting better," Aragorn cheered.
"Who has a fluffy brain?" Yasaka asked with a half-glare.
"That was all I came here for. What do you want to do with them?" Aragorn asked, playfully deflecting her glare.
"Leave them be; unless they commit a crime, don't bother with them. I'll have my people restrict their proximity to Kunou and me." Yasaka expanded her senses through the ley lines and located her daughter. Seeing Kunou drag Ophis along the streets of Urakyoto set her at ease.
"Alright, as you wish," Aragorn replied. "I'll be going to the Vatican. If you can't find me, go to Phoenix for help. She is up to date with our dear visitors."
"Wait, the Vatican?" Yasaka interjected before Aragorn could disappear. "Why are you going to Heaven's faction?"
"I found a soul I want. I'm in the process of acquiring her." Aragorn beamed a smile and disappeared.
Yasaka let out a long sigh. Had it not been for how capable Aragorn and Phoenix had proved of taking care of themselves and their messes, she would not feel so at ease with their whimsical behavior, but still, she felt like there was no need to stir so many hornet nests.
In the Vatican, specifically in Asia's solitary confinement room, Aragorn appeared with uncanny familiarity.
"Hello, little nun, I've come to play," Aragorn cheerfully greeted Asia.
"Mr. Aragorn," Asia said with a twinkle in her eyes. "I'm so glad, but also worried about your visits."
Aragorn plomped his head on her head and smiled. "Don't worry about it, in fact, you won't have to worry about it at all from today on."
Asia pushed her head eagerly against his hand and asked, "What do you mean, Mr. Aragorn?"
"I talked to some angels I know and they agreed to review your case," Aragorn nonchalantly replied. He sat on the uncomfortable wooden planks of Asia's bed and gestured for the stunned nun to take a seat.
"Mr. Aragorn, I didn't know you were friends with angels," Asia said with some confusion in her voice. Could angels even have friends aside from other angels? She wondered.
"We're more akin to business partners," Aragorn added. "The point is, I found some discontinuities in your story; the reason for your excommunication. So, I had my friends take and discovered some concerning findings."
Asia tilted her head cutely at that. As far as she knew, there was nothing amiss in her story. She found a wounded man, healed him, and it turned out to be a devil. That was it, wasn't it?
"You were considered a saint to the Vatican, you never left their watch, did you?" Aragorn asked while staring straight at those droopy green eyes.
"I have never left the Vatican, Mr. Aragorn," Asia replied.
"Then, why was a devil in the holiest of grounds and the headquarters of their enemy faction? More importantly, how was a devil in the Vatican?" Simply walking on consecrated ground is taxing on them, and the Vatican was excessive enough with their holy water that it was difficult to find a source of water that wasn't holy in the Vatican.
"Mmmm, I don't know, Mr. Aragorn. Wasn't it because he needed my healing?" Asia, obtuse as her ignorance, asked.
"No, my ignorant little nun," Aragorn softly chastised her. "That devil was here with help from the clergy."
"Gasp!" Asia brought her hands to cover her mouth. Her eyes went wide at the heresy. "But that's... not allowed." Her voice came out with a quiver.
"Not allowed doesn't mean impossible," Aragorn said.
"Could it have been an accident? Like how I healed him by accident," she asked, half trying to escape from reality, half due to her naivety.
"Maybe if it had happened only once, but that devil had taken over several nuns who had been excommunicated," Aragorn explained.
"Then..." Her lower lip quivered.
"That's why I had my angel partners investigate the clergy." Aragorn shuffled over to her side and comforted Asia with a side hug.
As ironic as it was, Asia's emotional turmoil was more intense over the church's heresy than over her excommunication.
As if timed by fate, or maybe a dramatic dragon, the door to the room clanked. Asia turned to the door and then, in a panic, to Aragorn. "Mr. Aragorn, please leave!"
Aragorn chuckled and said, "Okay, little nun." Like a mirage, he disappeared.
In a secluded section of the Vatican, behind layers of concealment and defense, Aragorn appeared next to Archangel Gabriel.
"Dove," Aragorn greeted.
"Lux!" Gabriel, like a child greeting their parent from work, greeted back.
His arrival didn't go unnoticed; it wasn't like he was concealing his presence. They reacted instinctively, their hands went to the pommels of their light swords and their holy guns, yet, seeing Garbriel's familiarity with him, they didn't do more than that.
"Did you have a hard time gathering the scum?" Aragorn asked.
"No bad language," Gabriel glared at him, but it looked more like a pout.
"Is 'scum' a bad word?" Aragorn asked with a playful smirk. "Then let me correct myself, did you have a hard time gathering the failed excuse for humans?"
"..." Gabriel had no follow-up for that.
"... I think scum is not a bad word," a priest added to the ail of the archangel.
Aragorn turned to the man and had to look up. While Aragorn's height wasn't one of his distinct features, he was tall. Even then, he had to actively look up to gaze at the priest's face.
"Are you sure priesthood was your true calling?" Aragorn asked in all seriousness. "Was it that, despite your true calling being bodybuilding, you chose to become a priest?"
"The will of my Lord is my true calling, dragon," the priest replied with a warm smile that contrasted greatly with the building of a man he was.
"Such dedication to your faith is incredible," Aragorn commented.
"This is Father Vasco Strada," Gabriel helpfully introduced him.
"Hello, I'm Aragorn, Dragon God of Systems, hoarder of all things shiny, connoisseur of the fluff, ROB in training, multiversal tourism entrepreneur, The Shine Dragon," Aragorn said while his tail waved hello.
"... It's nice to meet one of the newborn Dragon Gods." Vasco Strada spoke with a composure granted to him by his years of experience. That was why he could reply with a straight face to all the perceived nonsense he heard Aragorn spout.
"I didn't know you had so many titles, Lux," Gabriel said.
"It's more like personal interests," Aragorn replied with a smile. "Like you."
"Like me?" Gabriel asked.
"Yes, what a brilliant soul," his eyes flickered between golden and green, "I also like your brother's. Would you like to come with me, Dove? I promise you entire realms to your name."
"If we go, who would help my siblings manage heaven?" Gabrield asked. She was not exactly interested in the offer; her question had simply popped up, and she was curious.
However, to the listening clergy, they felt as if they had to watch their naive archangel be corrupted by the devil himself.
"I'll take them too," Aragorn replied without delay. "I'll take all of heaven with me."
"~Hehehe." Gabriel laughed at the mental image her imagination conjured of Aragorn shoving her and her siblings into a red sack like some version of Santa Claus.
Her laughter almost had the priests who were restraining themselves jumping to stop the charade, but a glare from The Violence of Heaven was enough to cow them.
"It's not possible," Gabriel, much to the relief of the listeners, declined. "Father will need all of us."
Her wording came out strange to those not in the know, but to those, like Vasco Strada, who knew, their eyes opened wide, their eyebrows raised to their foreheads, and silence was their immediate reply.
"Oh, so you are taking my offer?" Aragorn asked, evidently pleased.
That was another bombshell. Their initial assumption was that God was going to return, either by his power or that of the Seraphs. However, Aragorn's words implied he had a hand in it.
"It's the decision that we agreed upon," Gabriel nodded.
To this, Aragorn smiled widely. It was a smile that sent shivers down spines, made butthole clench, toes curl, and fists tighten. "When do you want it done?"
"After this," Gabriel replied, unfazed by Aragorn's bright smile.
"It shall be done," Aragorn nodded.
He said it so nonchalantly that some of the priests who had figured out he was talking about the revival of God thought that they had assumed erroneously.
"What are you planning to do with them?" Aragorn pointedly stared at the captured clergy, the so-called devil-sympathizers.
"They will be imprisoned for life," Gabriel stated. Even though the culprits had played a not small hand in the destruction and total upturning of the lives of many nuns, Gabriel looked at them with sadness in her eyes.
"You know, overall, being a devil may not be so bad," Aragorn commented, trying to console Gabriel. This gave a pause to all the priests listening.
"You're saying that in the middle of Heaven's Territory?" Vasco Strada asked. There was both amusement and discomfort in his question.
"First of all, this is the church's territory. Heaven is Heaven's territory. Otherwise, I would have chosen to talk to the Pope firsthand if I wanted to make a deal with heaven. There's a nuance to that difference," Aragorn said.
The listeners quickly caught on to what Aragorn was implying. Heaven can speak for the church, but not the other way around.
"Second of all," Aragorn continued. "Devils, angels, humans, deities, spirits, youkai, animals, and any other being possessing a soul, I make no racial distinction aside from the appeal of their souls. All of you are lowly beings before first impressions."
That comment made more than a few uncomfortable, but they couldn't argue with a being that had fought Great Red and lived to tell the tale.
"That aside, devils, as a race created by Lucifer for combat, come with several inherent advantages as a starting race. Lifespan, demonic power, initial physical stats, and various others. Hence, converting into a devil isn't entirely a tragedy.
"Imagine if humans went around stealing devils with 'Human Pieces', that would be an utter tragedy, no matter from which point of view you see it. Of course, slavery is a terrible con, even more so to become sex slaves, there's no denying that. But, at the end of the day, isn't the objective of life reproduction because immortality was out of reach?"
Gabriel, by this point, was the only one seriously putting some thought into Aragorn's words. Not to say the others were not paying attention, but after hearing Aragorn long enough, they realized that the only thing of value they could take from this conversation was a profile of the new Dragon God.
The whole ideology was conflicting with their faith from the beginning. They feared that giving more mind to his spiel could land them in the same spot as the devil-sympathizers.
"I still think it's sad that the children didn't get a chance to decide their future, but... maybe some of them will find joy in being devils." Gabriel voiced out the conclusion she reached.
"Exactly, 10,000 years is considered a long time by the standards of many. Maybe in 100 years, these devil nuns will look back and realize that their story began with a tragedy, but the theme of the book was not tragedy," Aragorn said.
Gabriel looked upwards to her side, at Aragorn's face, with her large eyes on his color-changing eyes. "Thank you," she murmured softly.
Aragorn didn't reply in words, he reached with his hand and petted her head. Gabriel, like Asia—like a kitten—leaned toward the touch.
"You're not quite what I imagined," Vasco Strada commented.
"I'm playing nice because this Dove's and your souls are beautiful, that exorcist's too"—he pointed with his tail at a female exorcist in a corner—"normally I avoid mortals altogether. Too many complications."
Vasco Strada turned to the exorcist Aragorn had singled out and said, "it appears you have an exceptional eye, Lord Aragorn."
"That's Griselda Quarta, Lux," Gabrield eagerly introduced her. "She is a good child."
Griselda Quarta, with all the attention on her, walked forward and bowed slightly to Gabriel before saying, "it's an honor to be recognized by Archangel Gabriel and Lord Aragorn."
Gabriel pouted slightly and said, "so formal," in complaint. "Also, it's just Aragorn, it's both a name and a title," she added.
Aragorn smiled at the archangel. He could see she enjoyed sharing that bit of information she managed to gain from listening to his true name.
A few minutes later, Asia, escorted by a nervous priest, walked into the room. Her eyes immediately went to Aragorn, and she gasped in response. Aragorn smiled at her and waved his hand as if he were where he belonged. Gabriel copied him and waved with him.
Asia had never met Gabriel before; however, her clothing did nothing to hide the peculiarities of her origin, and even without the twelve wings, she immediately recognized her as an angel.
Hence, the twinkle in Asia's eyes almost turned into veritable stars in reverence toward Gabriel.
"She is cute, isn't she?" Aragorn said to Gabriel loud enough for all to hear. Asia made a squealing yelp and blushed bright red.
"She is a good child," Gabriel said with an accompanying nod. Asia blushed harder, even if that was impossible.
"She also makes cute sounds while sleeping," Aragorn added.
"Really? I want to hear," Gabriel followed up.
"You might want to consider stopping for the child's sake." Vasco Strada was brave enough to interject between an archangel and a Dragon God. "I fear she'll pass out while standing otherwise."
True to his words, Asia's mind was swimming in discomfiture while standing, a comment away from blanking out in embarrassment.
For her sake, Aragorn and Gabriel decided not to comment further.
With the accused now in court, the trial began shortly after.
At that point, it was more of a verdict hearing instead of a proper trial, but since Aragorn had explicitly requested that Asia be publicly cleared of all accusations and for her departure to be under the blessing of Heaven, the charade had to be acted out.
Like so...
"On behalf of the institution of the church, I would like to apologize, Asia Argento."
Vasco Strada, as the highest-ranking clergy present, apologized to Asia.
It was an absurd situation, no matter how unjust Asia's plotted fate had been, to have Vasco Strada apologizing would be the equivalent of having the vice president apologize for an offense of a police officer against a civilian.
Still, Vasco Strada did so without regard for his status or pride. First, he was a good man, a truly good human, and second, he had pieced together what was at stake between Aragorn and Gabriel. Finally, whether his assumption was correct or not, with the archangel Gabriel standing behind Asia, what other choice did he have?
"Father Strada, please don't worry about it!" Of course, Asia was flustered beyond measure.
Aragorn, after watching the denouement of the play, was pleased with the results.
"Asia," Aragorn called out to the flustered nun.
She turned to him with a pout. She was too bright to resent, but the pout was the closest thing she could muster for resentment towards Aragorn.
"I'll return after dealing with some business with Gabriel in Heaven," Aragorn informed her. "Choose whether you want to remain here or come with me, or maybe something else. Let me know by the time I return."
"I'm going somewhere with Mr. Aragorn?" Asia asked, surprised by the sudden revelation.
"That depends on you, just know that nothing is tying you down, Asia." It was Gabriel who answered, and by doing so, she endorsed whatever decision she took.
Gabriel stepped toward Asia and gave her a warm hug. "Thank you," she said to her ear.
Asia was understandably confused; she didn't know what she was being thanked for. How could she know that Gabriel was thanking her for existing and doing whatever she did that brought Aragorn to her and, in consequence, allowed for the future revival of Gabriel's father?
Gabriel stepped back, next to Aragorn, and grabbed his hand with their finger interlaced before a pillar of light suffused them.
In a matter of seconds, Gabriel and Aragorn arrived at the Throne of Heaven. Awaiting them were Michael, Uriel, and Raphael.
"We're back, brothers," Gabriel greeted with a sweet smile. Her brothers smiled back with equal amounts of love for their sister.
"Welcome back, sister," Michael greeted warmly before turning to Aragorn. "It's an honor to have you back."
"I came to fulfill my end of the deal," Aragorn said. "The dove had already publicly endorsed the little nun to join my side. I'm here to bring back Yahweh."
"If it isn't a problem to ask, how would that work exactly?" Uriel was the one who asked.
"Time is but a suggestion to me," Aragorn explained. "I'll pop up in the past, down to the attosecond at the moment your father died, and pull his soul/core to our time. Since he will return when he was an attosecond before his death, I'll shove him into the pool of faith you've been gathering ever since his death."
Aragorn gazed at the Throne with a measuring gaze. "It should have enough for him to reconstitute himself after a given time and have some spare left. Though I don't know how long that would take," Aragorn said.
"What do we have to do? Should we prepare something for Father's arrival?" Raphael asked.
"Nothing? I mean, don't expect much, he'll literally be an instant before death, so I guess you should prepare your mindset," Aragorn said, unsure about what they could even prepare.
"Do I need to do something in the system?" Michael asked.
"Do you have access to the configuration of the source of the system's energy?" Aragorn asked.
"No," Michael said with powerlessness.
"It's fine either way," Aragorn shrugged. His energy manipulation allowed him to pinpoint the metaphysical location of the pool of faith, and his ability to ignore distance was enough to reach over and shove something into the pool. God, in this case.
"I'll be back before you know it," Aragorn said, and their anticipation spiked.
The next thing they knew, there was a bright flash of light, and Aragorn reappeared totally fucked up.
To them, it was a literal instant.
From Aragorn's perspective...
After saying that he'll be back before they knew it, Aragorn slipped off the timestream.
After exiting the timestream, the first thing he noticed was the feeling of familiarity at the end of the timestream. It was vague, and even after Aragorn peered into it, he couldn't find the source. Like finding a particular grain of sand in the Sahara.
However, after Ophis had mentioned that Trihexa was similar to him, it wasn't hard to surmise what was giving him that sense of familiarity.
'So, Yahweh hid a Void Beast as the end of time and space, where no matter how much it rampages, it wouldn't destroy anything.'
|It was probably sealed.|
-That's obvious, those unfilial sons can deal conceptual damage to anything that is not Void-chan.|
>Not even the end of time would be enough to stop one of them if they had not been sealed.<
'It's a feat of its own that Yahweh managed to seal one of them.'
|Maybe it was a sensorial seal. Possibly the Void Beast lost its sense of its surroundings.|
-A seal in the 'thought' process could work too. So long as Yahweh understood what constituted thought for it.-
>A loop of causality could work too. It would be especially effective at the end of times.<
'Yeah, that works too because of how mindless Void Beasts are.'
|It's possible he used all of the above and more. That would explain his large depletion of power if the Satans, who are said to be weaker than Sirzechs, killed him.|
The next thing Aragorn noticed was the two single most eye-catching events in the past. These events were imprinted with so much energy, fate, and causality that they were like lighthouses in a clear night on a calm sea.
'The births of Ophis and Great Red?'
-Definitely.-
>There's no other option.<
|We (I) should steer clear of those.|
Locating the point where Yahweh died would have been like searching for a needle in a haystack. However, Aragorn had clues to pinpoint this event.
First, it happened after the time of Jesus Christ. If Yahweh were dead, then there was no Jesus, and no True Longinus Sacred Gear. Second, it happened in the Underworld, and third... he had the exact date given to him by Yasaka.
Still, surfing the timestream, he wouldn't find markers informing him of the timespace locations, so he still needed to search for eye-catching events in the Underworld in the not-so-distant past, just about 2000 years ago.
After the arduous search of a few seconds(?) long, Aragorn found the event of Yahweh's death.
However, he encountered a slight problem.
'I don't think this Self can survive that explosion of [Damage].'
|It's doubtful. Worse of all, it is needed to be preset with a margin large enough not to miss the attosecond Yahweh dies.|
-How did an explosion of conceptual damage come about?-
>I think Yahweh was too out of his mind and matched the levels of madness of the other satans in his last minutes.<
'Maybe he was desperate to secure the deaths of the satans.'
|He was known for his ability to peer into the future. Maybe the chances of him winning were zero, and the chances of dragging the satans with him were infinitesimal. So he had to go plus ultra kamikaze.|
>That's plausible. Trihexa was not only a Void Beast, but Ophis confirmed that it was about as strong as her. I bet Yahweh was running on fumes here.<
-So a combination of desperation to land that infinitesimal chance, his impending death, his weakened state, and possibly a plethora of debuffs that he should have accrued during the war.-
'Let's not forget he was fighting to the death his offspring.'
|Understanding the reason behind this madness doesn't get us (me) closer to finding a solution.|
>Boosting and doping this Self is the only chance.<
-[Script] overlayed onto spellwork.-
|Breaking the limits of this Self.|
'Calling upon some of the power of Self in the strata above.'
>We (I) should survive.<
-Barely.-
With that decided, still outside the timestream, Aragorn swam to the moment when Yahweh decided to take all with him.
The moment just when the explosion started.
The moment when the satans put their all into a final effort to kill their father.
The moment when the devils were giving it their all to hold back the Heavenly Host from rushing to assist Yahweh.
The moment when Yahweh overlayed his all with the matrix of reality and tried to overimpose his existence over the concept of space.
The moment when his body stopped being a body and became part of the matrix of reality.
The moment when, after becoming part of the matrix of reality, he switched his 'body's' conceptual existence to [Damage].
The moment when [Damage] began to erode reality and reality forced it outside its matrix with all the weight of the universe. Filling him with 'momentum'.
The moment when his weakened body couldn't brace the weight of the universe, and part of the [Damage] was lost.
The moment when, even after losing a great part of [Damage], he was expelled from the matrix to become an unstable nascent star of [Damage] with all the 'momentum' he managed to accrue.
The moment when the satans' attack reached this unstable nascent start of [Damage] and it detonated. Space cracked like glass.
The moment after the star's detonation, when a dome of pure conceptual damage encapsulated a chunk of the Underworld and ate at the realm along with the satans.
The moment when, after the satans' annihilation, Yahweh, the absolute madlad, still had the will to direct some of the remaining energy to the seals on the keys to unlocking Trihexa. Driven by his desire to protect the world.
The moment when the purple dome of destruction imploded into a singularity-like hole in what remained of the sky of the Underworld.
The moment when the hole siphoned all nearby forms of energy, and it created an effect as if wisps of rainbow light were being absorbed.
And then...
Right at that moment when Yahweh's will could no longer sustain itself, the hole began to close...
And Aragorn, after having been right next to Yahweh during the entire instant the conceptual part of the explosion lasted, reached for the core of what remained of Yahweh's soul, and exited the timestream.
All of this happened in less than a fraction of a second.
The hole fully closed, and the vacuum left behind imploded.
From the perspective of the witnesses, there was a bright light, and then a new hole filled with nothing before nature rushed to fill the vacuum, the winds pulled at more than one unprepared victim, and throughout this, there was a resulting sound that rang like the cries of a thousand thermonuclear explosions.
Outside the timestream, Aragorn, half falling apart, half melting down, half turning to dust, half breaking down, and half vaporizing while all of these halves happened at the same time, dragged himself and Yahweh's core to the Throne of Heaven an instant after leaving.
Before the light could even catch his form, Aragorn shoved Yahweh's crumbling will into the pool of faith. A bright light escaped, and finally, his mission was accomplished.
"LUX!" Gabriel wailed as if she had just witnessed the death of a family member.
"Worry not, Dove. It's not as bad as it looks," Aragorn said. His voice, due to being a product of his telekinesis, came out smooth and clear.
But that much was obvious, after all, his head was not currently attached to his body; it was floating in place like some sort of dullahan.
Gabriel reached out to douse him in all of her healing holy power; however, a barrier of psionic energy stopped her.
"Don't get closer to me, there's residual [Damage] that my body is expelling," Aragorn cautioned. "Do it from that distance."
Gabriel, tears welling in her eyes, nodded and began to shine her healing light onto Aragorn. Uriel and Raphael joined her shortly after. Michael, however, was frozen solid in the Throne with his eyes closed. Over his eyelids, the rapid movement of his eyes was evident.
"What happened?" Uriel asked. "Did it work?"
"Your madman of a father happened," Aragorn complained. "He didn't die in an implosion as you guys had mentioned. What really happened occurred so fast that you were not able to register it."
"Ah! I can sense Daddy!" Gabriel shouted, ecstatic, without stopping her healing. However, she lost the battle to her tears and, like rivulets, they began flowing down her cheeks.
"Ah." Raphael was only able to voice this out after he too sensed Yahweh's presence.
Uriel wasn't even able to voice out any release for the emotions swirling in him; he simply let the tears flow.
Michael, still with his eyes closed and swimming madly in his eye sockets, now also had tears flowing down his chin.
Aragorn, standing in between three seraphs while his body healed, Michael stuck in the Throne, and a few moments later, the Heavenly Host, those with access to the Throne, swarmed in after having also sensed Yahweh's presence.
Seeing so many shiny souls, even in his state, Aragorn's eye—the other two were regenerating—shone with the green of desire and the gold of happiness.
"Maybe I can buy some of your siblings from Yahweh," Aragorn commented.
"No, bad Lux!" Gabrield chastised him amidst tears and sobs and the healing light.
Aragorn chuckled, with his body and not only his voice, and from the minimal movement, his tail broke off from his body.
"Fucking shit," Aragorn swore, while in Heaven. "I'm calling Phoenix if this takes more than 30 minutes."
Gabriel, and even Uriel and Raphael, chuckled at the absurdity of the complaint. They could even see Aragorn's heart, brain, and bones with their naked eyes, yet here he was complaining about the delay.
Aragorn, reluctantly, decided to wait and enjoy the view of the host of angels approaching rapidly. It was not a bad end for the day, he thought.
╚═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╝
{A/N: If it wasn't clear enough, the Self that entered DxD is heavily nerfed. That's because I consider the ceiling of power of DxD to be considerably lower than Marvel. Hence, the Self that entered DxD, while at the top of the power possible for the strata, is nerfed to hell and back.}
————————————————
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
Earth-199999.
~14 BE (Before Emergence) ~ 2009 CE (Current Era).
It's been... a few troubling years, I can't deny that, but lately, the world is turning into something I can't recognize.
Maybe that isn't right either. This world has always been strange, with Obelisks built with methods beyond human grasp, an artificial ring around the Moon, and Mr. Abner... Where to even begin with Mr. Abner? Or should I say, A'Heelah? Aquila? Akila? Maybe I should use what he recognizes as his name, Aragorn, but with so many historical records calling him a variant of his first moniker, A'Heelah, it's hard to match that to his name.
Even when I was nothing but a nigglet, I recognized his name as Aquila or Mr. Abner, as America likes to address him... her?... it.
Oh, after meeting him once, I can 100% say that motherfuker was an It! How disturbingly unnatural! Expressionless like one of those creepy dolls, and his eyes... His eyes were the only reason it was known for a long time that it experienced emotions.
Alright, that isn't entirely accurate. There are instances of recorded interactions with Hestia and Selene, the two nigh-divinities of the Sanctum who oversee the Libralisk. It's clearly recorded that for centuries, while he travelled with those two, he showed facial expressions to them.
And let's not delve into that cursed island. The public doesn't need to know that if they are smart enough to catch Goddess Selene's eye, they can attain immortality through vampirism.
"What the fuck is wrong with this world?" The question slipped my lips before I knew it.
"Sir?" Coulson voiced out. "I don't think the situation is as strange as with our green friend. According to the video released by the Ten Rings, they are keeping Stark alive."
Coulson, Coulson, Coulson... As appreciated as the disgusting gesture of having my agent care for my mental well-being is, reminding me of Ross' fiasco has the opposite effect to reassurance.
Banner's misbehaving personality has always been a sore spot for this country's military. However, seeing the high-res photos captured of the Hulk dressing in a pimp's suit, and with one of those blings only the Sages and those connected to Aragorn have around his neck, that was a real shitfest.
Let's not mention the ink in his face and hands that was unmistakably the coveted magical written language of the Sages, [Script].
Ever since Mr. Abner allowed the Custodians to exit their Obelisks and the Sages began to mingle with humanity, we have coveted their knowledge, magic, and technology.
Countless futile persecutions led by greedy kings with their heads up their asses are proof of this. Countless futile covert operations to steal one of those blings ever since the Cold War are proof of this. Countless futile black ops to enter the Isthmus through the South and North canals are proof of this. Countless futile attempts to climb beyond the public levels of countless Obelisks are proof of this.
And yet...
One rampaging green failed lab experiment suddenly appeared with his face and hands—possibly the rest of his body—inked with the [Script] humanity has been after for centuries.
One rampaging green failed lab experiment suddenly appeared with a motherfucking P-Link hanging on his neck and was seen using it deftly.
Not to mention the clothing that could resist the volumetric changes of his transformations.
But no, this wasn't what put to shame all spy organizations in the world. What made even me taste the sour lemon of life's unfairness was when this one rampaging green failed lab experiment went to knock at the North Scale demanding loudly for Aragorn and was fucking allowed inside.
I don't give a single spy supersoldier fuck about the abomination that Banner, Ross, and Ross' daughter created. What I really want to know is what the fuck was in that juice that granted Banner the luck of all humanity combined and beyond.
Is radiation the key? Should I take a butt-ass-naked walk through the irradiated fields of Chernobyl's Exclusion Zone? Maybe I should take that dare and go kiss the Elephant's Foot of Death...
Fuck!
I should reply before Coulson hits me once more with his appreciated disgusting concern.
"It's not about that, Coulson. Stark will be kept alive so long as he has value for the Ten Rings," I replied. "On that topic, have there been movements on the board of directors regarding the Maria Stark Foundation's funding?"
"I believe the fear of being made an example through a Black Monolith is keeping their grabby hands at bay," Coulson reported.
As the saying goes: What's the worst that could happen besides getting turned into a mare and fucked by your favorite horse?
That monster can be terrifying. Even to this day, the breed of Caligula Horses exists, so there's no denying that he turned the motherfucking Emperor of Rome into a mare for thinking inappropriately about Hestia and Selene.
For thinking! Not even voicing out his delusions, much less acting on them. Just a thought was enough; that was how cheap it was for Aragorn to undo that madman's being.
"Have them commit involuntary suicide if you must, but don't let those fools drag the rest of us in their stupidity," I ordered. "As much as 'Furies' sounds like a good name for a breed of black stallions, I'd rather have a horse dick between my legs and not in my ass for the rest of my equine life."
"I'm already on it, Sir," Coulson answered without blinking. Good, that's how a capable agent has to carry himself.
"Good," I said. "By the way, any sightings of Green exiting the Isthmus?" I asked.
Banner, after entering the Isthmus, had become the most wanted man alive on Earth.
"No sightings of 'Green' exiting the Isthmus. On an unrelated matter, we have managed to keep a certain unremarkable factory worker in Brazil off the radars of all agencies, even our own," Coulson reported the successful completion of his assignment.
"Keep it that way, I don't trust even SHIELD not to fuck up with this unremarkable factory worker in Brazil," I nodded in approval.
Danvers was right, Earth is more bizarre than we ever gave it credit for. Even my Skrullian operatives share the opinion that Earth is strange.
━━━━━━━ ● ━━━━━━━
Random Cave in Afghanistan.
"So you mean to say that you made more profit from the bandits you enslaved than from the reason for the journey with Zhang Lu?" Yinsen asked.
"You have to understand that in those times, banditry was such a prevalent problem in some areas that merchants had to hire armies to protect their caravans," Aragorn replied while creating an illusion to illustrate the story he was retelling.
"How brave—or stupid if you ask me—were ancient humans to attack a caravan escorted by a literal titanoboa dragon serpent?" Stark asked.
"In China, for a long while, the more fantastical side of the world was out in the open," Aragorn explained. "To these bandits, an eastern dragon was even more enticing than the caravan itself, and since I had not taken that form in public before, not many could link it to me."
"I doubt even if you had, badits would have the education to know about it," Stark added.
"How interesting," Yinsen commented. "In Zhang Lu's Journey To The West, Zhang Lu doesn't go into details about some of these world-building elements."
"That's only logical," Aragorn said. "He was a merchant, not a historian or an author. His diary was converted into a literary work a few centuries after his death, but to him, there was no point in documenting these facts of 'common' knowledge."
"That would explain why the original version is so different than the popular book," Stark said.
"You read the original work?" Yinsen asked, surprised.
"I did three years in the Sanctum Ingeniorum," Stark replied. "I gained access to some of the Tier 3 levels. There I found a translated copy of the original diary."
"Tier 3?" Yinsen asked, his eyes wide. "That's impressive for just three years. Some people spend their entire lives on the island and only make it to Tier 5."
"I made it to Tier 4 with my academic results alone," Stark preened. "For Tier 3, I offered my Accelerated Wave Explosion invention."
"That is still impressive," Aragorn said. "Offering knowledge is a commonly used method; however, not all knowledge qualifies."
"I'm a Stark and weaponry is what we do," Stark proudly declared.
"..."
"..."
His showing off was met with silent gazes that spoke volumes about his stupidity. Not because weapons manufacturing was the problem itself, but because he was preening over the exact thing that got him stuck with an electromagnet in his chest.
"Yeah, you don't have to say it." Stark deflated. "I realized it after it left my mouth," he somberly added.
"They are coming." Aragorn's words cut through the somber mood.
Their captors entered the room, put on a show of intimidation with more gunmen than necessary, and graciously demanded Jericho missiles from Stark.
Stark, in a bound of stupidity or maybe pride for his country, denied them. Then came the good old torture to make a bird sing.
Stark and Yinsen were dragged outside the cave, and Stark was met with his legacy. Stark Industries' weaponry in the hands of terrorists.
He agreed on the surface, even while knowing he would be deposed after he had served his purpose, and both captive men were dragged back inside, where Aragorn's thought projection awaited them.
Yinsen and Stark were not in the mood for talking; they had come to the realization that death surely awaited them. While for Yinsen, this was not unwelcome, he felt responsible for making sure Stark made it out of it alive.
"That's why I told you I was with the IRS," Aragorn said. "Do you think the earnings of those weapons were reported in your company's tax form?"
"Is this a joke to you?" Stark snapped.
"Do you have the time, standing, authority, or logical reason to snap at me?" Aragorn quipped. "And, even if it were a joke, I've done enough for humanity to joke about whatever I want. Not to mention your family," Aragorn added.
"What does that mean?" Stark demanded.
"Why do you think your mother survived the car crash that took Howard Stark away?" Aragorn asked. "Why do you think the Isthmus funds the foundation she left behind?"
"That was you?" Stark asked. He couldn't mask his surprise.
"Your mother died with your father. I brought her back on borrowed time to help me distribute the donations of the Isthmus across the world, and when the Maria Stark Foundation became the greatest charity in the world, she entrusted it all to you and joined your father. Before departing, I told her she had earned a favor from me, and that I could make her revival permanent," Aragorn revealed. "Yet she traded that for you. I promised her I would save your life once. Yet, here you are, talking shit about what I can joke about and not."
The revelations left Stark shocked, and even Yinsen was dumbfounded.
"If you dislike your situation that much, Manchild, then do something about it," Aragorn chided. "Those idiots will provide you with missiles. Aren't you a genius or something? Just build a Nuke or something and blow everything outside this cave. A big enough explosion is bound to draw attention from the people searching for you.
"You don't even have to think hard about it, even if you don't survive the explosion, I'll bring you back. You have an extra life," Aragorn scoffed.
"What about Yinsen?" Stark asked, and he was desperate enough to consider the option.
"Yinsen, did your mother transfer a favor to you for your sake that I didn't know about?" Aragorn turned to Yinsen.
Yinsen, understanding what Aragorn was doing, smiled faintly and said, "not that I know of, A'Heelah."
Aragorn turned back to Stark and said, "there you have it. Though this should be no obstacle, you only cared about one person. I figure you'll be out in a week or less. I'll return to revive you then, or, better yet, make something else and walk out of here without having to blow up, save that extra life for another occasion."
Aragorn disappeared after that.
Needless to say, Stark was furious. Guilt gnawed at him for his mother having given up her favor. Jealousy stung over her choice to return to her husband's side instead of remaining with him. He felt gratitude for Aragorn bringing her back, yet rage simmered because Aragorn then ceased supporting her life. All these feelings fueled a churning desire to prove he didn't need the extra life to make it out of the cave alive.
That week, whether because of his deteriorating health, the threat of death hanging over his head, or the deadline for Aragorn's return, became the most important week in his life so far.
Stark was determined to walk out of the cave alive, and for that, he needed not only a weapon, but a form of protection to tank all the bullets from his captors. A suit or armor was the logical conclusion.
But first, a core was needed to fuel the armor's consumption. His genius edged the boundaries of madness, and the baby of his erudite technological rampage was born.
"That doesn't look like a Jericho missile," Yinsen commented.
"That's because it's a miniaturized arc reactor," Stark said. "I got a big one powering my factory at home. It should keep the shrapnel out of my heart."
"But what could it generate?" Yinsen asked.
"If my math is right, and it always is, three gigajoules per second," Stark replied.
Yinsen deadpanned at him and pointed out the absurdity of it all. "That could run your heart for 50 lifetimes."
"Yeah. Or something big for 15 minutes," Stark said.
Stark then brought Yinsen in on the plan he had come up with for their escape.
In the following days, they became smiths and hammered away from the crack of dawn to dusk. The work was divided into parts to keep their captors unaware of their plan. And when the leader of the terrorists came and put pressure on them by attempting to torture Yinsen in front of Stark, it only hardened Stark's resolve.
Finally, D-Day arrived, and Yinsen was helping Stark don the armor when their captors demanded that both of them step into sight.
BOOOOM!
That wasn't possible, and they were past that, so the improvised bomb activated after they attempted to open the door.
"Initialize the power sequence." Stark rushed Yinsen.
He talked him through it.
The shouts of the terrorist echoed in the cave with the promise of death.
"They're coming!" Yinsen reiterated in stress and worry.
He tightened the last hex bolts of the armor.
However, it wasn't fast enough. He saw the loading bar on the screen and realized... This was it.
"I'm gonna go buy you some time." Yinsen declared. Stark protested, but he was already going for one of the dropped rifles outside the blasted door.
"A'Heelah, please watch over my last minutes of life." Yinsen prayed out loud.
'I shall witness you.' Aragorn's voice rang softly in his mind. Yinsen smiled serenely.
Yinsen was a man not of violence. Even with the weapon in his hands, even when the opportunity presented itself, he chose not to fight a single bullet at the escaping gunmen. He shot recklessly at the cave's roof and shouted to hype himself.
His death was around the corner, and he knew it.
Vivid memories of his first date with his deceased wife flooded him as if trying to provide reassurance.
The time when she shared the news of her pregnancy.
His child's birth. The first words. The first walk. Love, tenderness, ease, affection, he felt all of these and more emotions vividly.
And then, when he came out of the high, he was looking up at an armored Stark looking down at him with reluctance and pain.
"This was always the plan, Stark. I go with A'Heelah's blessing." He said.
"Come on, you're gonna go see your family. Get up," Stark said with a pained expression.
"My family is dead. I'm going to see them now, Stark."
Stark didn't know what to add.
"It's okay. I want this. I want this." Yinsen said.
"Thank you for saving me," Stark spoke with reluctance.
And with the last of his breath, he added, "Don't waste it. Don't waste your life."
Stark gathered his resolve and marched to the outside of the cave system.
Aragorn appeared next to Yinsen and pulled out his soul. "What do you wish to do now?"
"I shall join my family in the great beyond, A'Heelah," Yinsen replied while looking down at his translucent spirit.
"There are some things that I know beforehand, and some others that I can discover by peering ahead of time with these eyes," Aragorn pointed at his color-changing eyes with the tip of his tail blade. "I saw you long before we met."
"Me? Why me, A'Heelah?" Yinsen asked, incredulous.
"You just saved half of all life in the universe by giving your life to him," Aragorn pointed outside the cave, where the fires of revenge were already raving high. "You, and a few others, are the backstage staff that, through your unnoticed actions, allow the play to go on."
"..." Yinsen understood that Stark was going to accomplish something greater than he ever thought possible.
"In this 'life' of mine, it doesn't mean much, but in a previous life... the play meant a lot to me," Aragorn said with a wistful mien. "I decided to repay you and your peers with small blessings that I know you'll appreciate."
"What are you saying, A'Heelah?" Yinsen asked.
"I set apart your wife's and child's souls when they passed away," Aragorn revealed. Yinsen gasped. "If you want, I can send you together to Yahweh's realms, or I can grant you a next life for you to enjoy together. You can keep your memories or make new ones. I can interlace your 'fates' so that you meet your wife in the next life and so that your first child will be your son."
"... Thank you," Yinsen smiled at Aragorn. It was a grateful smile, and that was all Aragorn needed.
"Thank you for what you made possible," Aragorn said before flickering his tail and sending Yisen to his next life.
BOOOOOOM!
The weapons cache blew up into a fireball, and Aragorn followed Stark with his sight as he flew out of the explosion.
Stark crashed into a dune, and the armor broke apart in the crash landing.
"Congratulations, you made it alive and with an extra life at that," Aragorn said after dropping his thought projection right next to Stark.
"Yinsen, he..." Stark lost the words to continue.
"I guided his soul to his wife's and child's. He was grateful to you for granting meaning to his death," Aragorn said in an even tone.
"Did I? Did I give meaning to his death?" Stark asked, his emotions a mess.
"That depends on you, doesn't it?" Aragorn asked back. "Will the life of a manchild grant meaning to his death? Maybe the life of a playboy might do it, or maybe neither. In the end, how much meaning it had will depend on what you make out of yourself."
"..."
Aragorn's thought projection stayed with Stark until the sound of a helicopter reached them.
Back in the Isthmus, Aragorn's main body was working out the details of the migration of the Isthmus itself with Plutusdrakon, God of Economy and the Undergrounds.
"Grandfather, although unconventional, the best option is to scoop the upper layer of crust out and let the seas flood the resulting vacuum," Plutusdrakon said.
"But that would still create tsunamis and mess up the underwater ecosystems," Aragorn said.
"That's a fact, Grandfather," Plutusdrakon affirmed. "But replacing the displaced matter with water from other sources will still introduce foreign factors to the seas. Besides, you might not be here for the Great Moving."
"Are you referring to Pietro's report?" Aragorn asked with a furrowed brow.
"According to Uncle Pietro's report, there's a blitzkrieg invasion of the Shi'ar that seems to have entered the Nova Empire's territory, aiming for Nirn," Plutusdrakon said. "We both know that this is happening too suddenly, the Shi'ar are acting as if this operation had been planned for decades, and that's not plausible."
"Time manipulation?" Aragorn spoke out loud what Plutusdrakon was implying.
"Correct, but how many individuals do you know of in Earth-5H1N3 that could distort a few hours into decades and are willing to help the Shi'ar to most certainly mess with you after they noticed your absence?" Plutusdrakon asked.
"A few, maybe less than a dozen," Aragorn said.
"And how many of these are divine?" he asked.
"What a fucking mess," Aragorn said.
"It shouldn't be that serious, should it?" Plutusdrakon said. "All of us are on the nine tails level, even if a divine war approaches, we could still take them on."
"No, it is a clusterfuck," Aragorn shook his head. "The average age of a deity in our home universe ranges from millions to hundreds of millions of years. Hence, the truly strong ones, those who stand at your same level, Skyfathers and Skymothers, would have millions of years on you to perfect their power."
"That's startling, Grandfather," Plutusdrakon said. "But even then, they should be no match for you and Grandmother, right?"
"No, there aren't, but what if I'm busy dealing with whatever caused the irregularities in the timeflow?" Aragorn asked.
"There's still Grandmother and Aunt Jean," Plutusdrakon answered.
"But if they are busy too, you'll have to contend with the deities left behind, that's why I said it is a clusterfuck," Aragorn explained.
"We should start war preparations, shouldn't we?" Plutusdrakon asked. "Even across the Imperium."
"Yeah, not only the Drachantheon Therion, the Imperium should enter war preparations too, and you should all be ready to enter the conflict guns blazing, because if someone is confident enough to involve a bunch of deities in targetting me, then they must have at least one ace, one trump card that fed them that confidence," Aragorn replied.
"Has it even been decided where we would spawn the Imperium?" Plutusdrakon asked.
"We'll take the Barrens from the Watchers' hands," Aragorn said.
"Isn't that place toxic to life?" Plutusdrakon asked.
"Very much so," Aragorn nodded. "That's why we'll have the Imperium enter with the Luminaegis Lattice activated."
"So that's going to finally be put to use," Plutusdrakon said. "I bet Aunts Emma, Mindee, and Yao will be pleased to see it in use."
"Not only them," Aragorn said with a smile. "This will be the first time the Drachantheon Therion casts Cosmic Magic of the intergalactic level. You'd have a hard time finding one of your aunts and uncles not eagerly awaiting the activation of the Imperial Shield."
"Well, knowing them as well as I do, I bet some are eager about the prospect of war," Plutusdrakon chuckled. "I know my father, as a God of War, is enthusiastic about the upcoming conflict, but I wouldn't put it past Aunts Kitty and Yelena to be equally expectant."
"As you know, the war with the TVA was the first real war of the Imperium and they were like bucking bulls awaiting to be released back then. Now, with this divine war in the Horizon, my Therions are not that different. It is, after all, the first chance they'll get to face real opponents," Aragorn explained.
"..." Plutusdrakon went silent after imagining his aunts and uncles, who often fight to the 'death' between themselves, all high in battlelust.
Days passed, and soon almost a month had passed since Aragorn went to pester the captured Stark. Aragorn was in The Crystal, in Halo, in his lab, observing a sample of the first signs of animal multicellular life.
After 300,000 years since Gaea overfed the Halo with her blessing, it had seen countless examples of metalloid lifeforms develop.
There were hundreds of examples from the Fungi, Plantae, Eubacteria, Archaebacteria, and Protista Kingdoms. Lifeforms that threaded the line between magical and natural life, while also showing signs of response to metallic lifeforms like Seraph, Spark, and the various AIs that operated in the Halo.
And, even beyond that, the Halo's main operating AI had been fused through Gaea's blessing to the ringworld itself, converting it into some sort of world's will.
It was undoubtedly a field of study that Aragorn had taken great interest in, and he was eager to show it to Gaea upon his return. Specially so, the lifeform he was currently observing through his microscopic sight.
It was a form of multicellular eukaryotic life that he could say had stepped out of the Protista Kingdom and ventured in the direction of the Animal Kingdom.
While Aragorn was studying this lifeform, his P-Link pinged him. He sent the command to open the notification, and a small screen was projected over to his right with its corresponding audio.
"The truth is... I'm Iron Man."
Aragorn didn't turn to the screen; he did not need to, but he did pay attention to it.
He willed to dismiss the screen, and his P-Link did so. He returned to studying the lifeform in observation.
A few hours passed like that before he spoke out loud.
"I don't understand why my biokinesis isn't reacting to it yet. I can control the metalloid plants, fungi, bacteria, and protists just fine. I could control the ancestor of this animal-to-be before it went into this strange transitive stage of life.
"It makes no sense for biological life to go through a transitional phase where my biokinesis wouldn't recognize it as life, this has to be shenanigans born from my Chocolate's blessing, but even then, my biokinesis should work on it... How frustrating!"
Contrary to his complaints, he sported a pleased grin. Aragorn was having fun with the mystery, even if it was frustrating.
Content with the advances he had made and in search of stress release, he decided to drop by Stark's house to annoy him and maybe steal one of his armors for his collection.
He appeared in the middle of the living room and locked eyes with a certain home invader.
"..." The home invader looked shocked at Aragorn in silence before he exclaimed, "motherfucker!"
"Your vernacular is so varied," Aragorn commented with a flat face.
"Mr. Abner, I did not expect you to be interested in Stark," Fury said with composure. He was trying to brush past his earlier outcry.
"It looks like Goose claimed your eye," Aragorn commented while pointingly staring at his eyepatch.
"... That's classified," Fury said with a flat face mirroring Aragorn's.
"You should not be ashamed, you have my word on being the first human to survive a flerken scratch, wear your scars with pride," Aragorn said. "Would you like me to make a world announcement about it? I can help spread the epic of your chronicle."
"..." Fury stared at Aragorn without uttering a word.
What could he safely say? Could he express how much he was not enjoying the joke? Should he share how terrified he was of it all not being a joke? Could he say how much he desired for it to be in his power to incarcerate Aragorn right this instant?
"Don't worry, it was a joke," Aragorn said, and Fury released a breath he didn't know he was holding in.
"I didn't know Mr. Abner could joke," Fury commented.
"I joke from time to time, mostly with my family," Aragorn said. He made way to one of the sofas and smiled mischievously before taking a seat and piercing the sofa with his tail.
"..." Fury blinked at the very obvious ripping sound, but otherwise didn't dare say a thing.
"Are you here to talk with the resident manchild hero, Iron Man?" Aragorn asked.
"That's an appropriate description for Stark," Fury said. He chose to come out of the shadows and sat on the Sofa next to Aragorn. "And yes, that's the purpose of my visit. What about you, Mr. Abner?"
"Oh? Is that your super spy training kicking in?" Aragorn said.
"Just a harmless question, Mr. Abner," Fury said. "I doubt there's anything in your backyard that could pose a problem to you."
"My backyard, huh... Maybe that's an accurate description of how I view Earth sometimes," Aragorn mused. He pulled out a lemonade smoothie from his storage and began to drink from the straw. "Would you like something to drink? I have literally anything."
"Pappy Van Winkle bourbon," Fury said without hesitation. Aragorn materialized the drink out of his storage and floated it to him.
"I'm here to annoy Stark and receive one of his suits for my collection," Aragorn shared.
Fury raised an eyebrow at his answer.
"Yeah, there's no greater plot or reason behind it," Aragorn shrugged. "You can say that I'm blowing some steam after encountering a persistent puzzle I haven't pieced together."
"Will you tell me about it if I ask?" Fury asked after taking a sip of his drink.
"I would rarely not reply to questions or lie," Aragorn stated.
"What puzzle?" Fury asked, skeptical.
"It's a new metalloid lifeform I've been studying in my Halo, it's quite the complicated thing, and the fact that it's the result of a goddess' divinity only makes the puzzle more complicated," Aragorn said without concealing the truth.
"... Okay," Fury said.
"See? There's no need for me to avoid the question or lie, there's nothing you can do about it," Aragorn said.
"Then, in the spirit of transparency and asking questions, can I ask about the reason for the ban on entry to the Isthmus?" Fury took advantage of the opportunity and asked.
"Would you let children into a working area in an industrial facility?" Aragorn replied with a question.
"... You think we would harm ourselves in the Isthmus?" Fury asked.
"Yes, you would. 100%, no doubt," Aragorn said.
"... What about the upper levels of the Obelisks?" Fury continued asking.
"My Obelisks are important for the continual existence of this planet. Would you allow children near your nuclear warheads?" Aragorn replied once more with a question.
"What do you mean?" Fury questioned.
"Mmmm, I could explain, but are you sure you want to know?" Aragorn asked with a grin. A visible grin that almost made Fury pull out his gun reflexively.
"Forget I asked," Fury declared with conviction.
"Boring," Aragorn commented. "By the way, are you truly looking for alternatives for the Skrulls, or are you using them as convenient assets?"
"... I'm doing the best I can; however, the current technology limits my options," Fury replied with some reluctance.
"That excuse won't hold up for long, you should earnestly search for ways to get them off planet," Aragorn said.
Fury understood where he came from, and even though he did find the Skrulls convenient, he agreed with the urgency of getting them off planet. His thoughts went over the possible options he had available at hand, yet all of this came to a screeching halt when he heard what Aragorn said next.
"They won't act up while I'm here, but by 2023, I will leave the planet forever, along with the Imperium."
"WHAT?!" Fury exclaimed and shot up. The door opened, and Stark walked into the scene of a man in a trench coat staring at Aragorn with an expression of complete shock and alarm.
Aragorn turned to Stark and said, "This is an intervention; your drinking must stop," in complete seriousness.
╚═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╝
————————————————
{A/N:
Let's see, this week the total was 661 power stones. This time, for 400 power stones, I'll release the first half of the next chapter.
If, by the end of the week, there are not 800 (full chapter) power stones, I'll take positive reviews instead.
————————————————
Please check out my P@treon account! There are already 10 chapters ahead for premium members, which is at least 100,000 words. Premium members also gain access to a new chapter every week.
[email protected]/ExistentialVoid
Free Members get access to all free chapters, and I upload free chapters about 12 hours earlier on P@atreon.}
————————————————