"Well, sh*t." Ricky said, scratching the back of his head as the mothers each scooped up their child, until no little feet touched the ground.
"Oh dear," Cardinal Sebastian whispered, rising to his feet amidst the crowd of eaters, setting his hamburger aside in a hurry and rushing to his godson.
"Is everything alright-"
"Cardinal, what is happening?" Carla asked, clutching the sobbing Augustine, who shook with guilt at almost attacking Zatanna.
"I don't know, this isn't supposed to happen unless Ricky wills it-"
"Ricky!" Agatha immediately snapped, furious, while cradling a weeping Zatanna, who herself was crying over nearly hurting Augustine.
"Woah, woah, I didn't do this." Ricky said, holding up his hands as the angry mothers pulled their children further away from the objects.
"And what do you want me to do? It's in their blood-"
"Put them away!" Agatha snapped, her hateful eyes flashing with the memory of everything she had seen Ricky endure while wielding those cursed artifacts.
Though much had changed for Ricky and the Ebony Blade in terms of their relationship as sword and wielder, Agatha's original disposition, that her children never inherit such wicked relics, remained the same.
However, that disposition began to spread like a plague among the mothers, each of whom had heard at least one or two stories about those ebony artifacts.
"I'm just gonna put them back near the radio." Ricky sighed, scooping all the artifacts into his arms.
"Ricky-" Raven tried to speak, her heart racing as she stared fearfully at the chalice inching its way closer to Thrawn.
"I'll keep an eye on them and besides, the kids are literally safest when they're around me." Ricky said, proud that his children could already call upon the artifacts at such a young age.
Yet entirely confused as to how it was even happening.
'But seriously, what the hell happened-'
Before he could finish the thought, a gaze suddenly burned into his back, making him visibly frown.
'I do not know. I should not have been called unless you had died or passed your ownership down the line.' The Ebony Blade said, completely at a loss, since nothing like this had ever happened while he served another Black Knight.
"On second thought, I'll put them inside." Ricky muttered, his gaze shifting toward the upstairs window where a pair of glowing red eyes lingered before slowly fading back into the shadows.
'I agree. It would be better to store us inside for now, along with a radio,' the Ebony Crown added, its tone curious as it caught Zatanna stealing glances at it.
"And before you ask, I'll just ask Merlyn if he knows what caused this, or something like that," Ricky said, juggling two conversations at once, speaking to the ebony artifacts while the mothers slowly nodded along.
But as Ricky rambled on, his eyes more concerned with the house behind him, Carmine's eyes locked onto the shield he was addressing.
"Carmine?" Maria asked, watching him tug free from her hold and walk toward Ricky.
"Carmine, honey, what are you doing-"
But as Maria's worries poured into Carmine's ears, they were drowned out the instant his hand touched the shield.
A low hum, almost imperceptible to anyone else, resonated through his body, pulling him away from the world around him.
His small fingers tightened against the ancient metal, as though the shield itself was answering a call buried deep in his blood.
The one-sided conversation his father had carried alone was no longer a solitary experience.
For the first time, Ricky was not the only one privy to the dialogue with his ebony artifacts.
"Stop trying to nudge towards Johnny, you're scaring my girl-" Ricky reprimanded, scoffing at the black figure before him.
"I cannot help it." The Ebony Shield frowned, its crew-cut reflection of its wielder gazing back at Ricky with crossed arms.
"His qualities call upon me and-" The Ebony Shield began, only for its words to be cut short.
In the next second, Ricky and the Ebony Shield jerked their gazes away from each other and toward the intruder who shouldn't be there.
"Carmine?" Ricky asked, his eyes flicking to him in the real world, an ugly expression eclipsing his face.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Ricky continued, yet Carmine's eyes could only sparkle when fixed on the crew-cut reflection of his father.
His excitement, however, was not returned in the Ebony Shield's gaze.
In fact, the longer the Shield stared at Carmine, the uglier its expression became, until it could no longer bear it and raised a hand toward the child.
"Unworthy."
The word pulsed through Carmine's ears, shattering his excitement, and before he could react, the Ebony Shield banished him back into the real world.
"Huh?" Carmine muttered, his eyes rolling forward, pupils clouded with distress.
"Unworthy?" Carmine whispered to himself, confused by the word he had never heard, now plaguing his mind.
"The hell was that?" Ricky spat, a deep frown forming as he turned his gaze toward the physical shield, which hummed ominously.
'That son is unworthy of my power,' the Ebony Shield explained calmly, trying to ease Ricky, only to see his wielder's frown deepen.
'I cannot resonate with him, not with those qualities.' The Ebony Shield quickly added, trying to soothe his mind but simply made Ricky's expression grow even darker.
'If anything, your son is suited for the Crown-' The Ebony Shield made a last-ditch effort, but in doing so cemented his fate.
"F*ck your qualities." Ricky cursed, his frown deepening as he began to berate the artifact for rejecting his own son.
"If my son wants to throw you like a frisbee, he's gonna f*cking do it-"
But as Ricky started to hatefully lecture the shield, Carmine slowly started to rub his head and look around with confusion deeply riddling his eyes and mind.
"Why did I leave?" Carmine asked, turning to his mother and then his siblings, all of whom looked just as confused as he did.
"What is unworthy?" Carmine asked, and then everyone's confusion melted into varying expressions, with pity dominating the majority.
"It means not deserving-" Henry clarified, trying to help, only to be punched in the shoulder by Gus.
"Oh," Henry whispered, realizing only afterward that he shouldn't have said that.
As the words rang through his ears, Carmine's face froze, his features stiffening as if caught in stone, and for a moment, he was violently quiet.
Then, like a spark igniting, a fiery flush of red surged across his cheeks, his spiraling with pure rage as he stomped towards the shield.
"Why can't I use it?" Carmine demanded, tears welling in his eyes, heartbreak etched into every line of his face.
But it wasn't the rejection alone that hurt him.
It was the space between him and his father, so close he could almost reach out, yet stretching impossibly farther with every passing second.
"Carmine-" Ricky stumbled, suddenly at a loss for words, frozen by the raw heartbreak in his son's expression even as his anger burned hotter.
"Why doesn't it like me?" Carmine sniffled, angrily rubbing his eyes, staring at the cold, indifferent shield that didn't even acknowledge him.
"Buddy, you're just not suited for the shield-CARMINE!" Ricky tried to calm him, only to find himself yelling as Carmine suddenly reached for the ebony crown.
"Hmmm?"
A gentle hum escaped the Ebony Crown, his appearance identical to Carmine's father as his long hair was the only thing that set him apart.
"Hmmmmmmm." The Ebony Crown hummed again, though this time, with a frown as he shook his head.
"Unworthy."
Then, with another flick of the hand, another ebony artifact banished him, eyes rolling forward to a furious Ricky.
But Carmine's own eyes seemed to move on their own, driven by a deep, rising need to rival his siblings as his two hands shot out for the chalice and the blade.
"Mean!" The Ebony Chalice laughed, shaking its head and shooing him back into the corner where the ebony blade waited.
"Carmine, stop f*cking touching the artifacts-" Ricky yelled at Carmine in both instances, wanting to pull him away but unsure if ripping him out would hurt his son's mind.
"I want to do it, the things Zatanna and Augustine did!" Carmine said desperately, dropping to his knees before both versions of his father, though his eyes remained fixed only on the black reflection.
"I can do it! I can!" Carmine yelled, turning toward the blade, which regarded him with nothing but a saddened expression.
"Child-"
"PLEASE-"
"Child." The Ebony Blade halted, raising a hand, and Carmine suddenly found himself at a loss for words as he stared at a perfect reflection of Ricky.
"You're not deserving."
Then, with a flick of the Ebony Blade's hand, Carmine was rejected by every single ebony artifact within mere seconds.
"W-Why am I not deserving?" Carmine asked, his voice trembling as the young boy fell to his knees and held his head in despair.
Ricky frowned, turning his gaze to each artifact in his arms, his eyes slowly glowing a deep green, a mix of frustration and something unreadable swirling within them.
'You're gonna let him use you whether he's worthy or not.' Ricky hissed, pouring the full force of his will onto the four relics, which began to tremble at his unreasonable command.
"Let me try." Gus said, stepping forward and raising his hand, immediately drawing everyone's attention.
"Personally, I don't think I'm worthy either," Gus said with an easy smile, meant to soothe Carmine.
"I think it'd be best to prove it's specific rather than let my brother think he's the only one."
Gus's words brought warm smiles across the surrounding Lucianos as he gazed at the little boy, appearing as the genius soul who so desperately wanted to help his unpowered brother reclaim some confidence.
But beneath the smile, past the kind demeanor and the calm appearance he always carried, a different spark lingered.
He wanted to know.
Even if only for a fleeting moment of gratification, Gus wanted to see if he could be like his father.
Deep down, he believed he was capable, and he genuinely wanted to help his brother.
But that small, personal ambition burned quietly and flared in this instant.
Before Ricky could respond, Gus pressed his hand to the shield.
His eyes rolled back, and his consciousness drifted into a space where he saw his father standing beside another version of his father, with a sharp crew cut.
"You're more of a crown type." The Ebony Shield frowned, recognizing Gus as worthy but not its preferred candidate.
"I see, thank you." Gus said, nodding and opening his eyes before reaching for the crown.
Though Ricky wanted to stop him, his hand froze.
Every instinct screamed to protect his child, to keep him safe from the unpredictable will of the artifacts.
And yet, another part of him, a more curious part, burned with this need to see what Gus could do, to witness how far his son could reach and it was why he didn't stop him.
"Oh?"
The moment Gus's hand met the artifact, the Ebony Crown stared directly at him when he opened his eyes.
"Easy there," Ricky said, yanking the crown back and pushing it away from Gus's face as the artifact let out a soft, amused chuckle.
"I merely wanted to scare the child, yet he is unflinching," the Ebony Crown laughed, studying Gus's impassive face, which slowly curled into a smile the moment his father turned toward him.
"So am I," Ricky said, frowning fiercely at the crown. The artifact immediately coughed and ducked its head.
"I accept this one, though I prefer your daughter," the Ebony Crown shrugged, granting Gus permission as its appearance subtly shifted to mirror him.
"I like his wit, an almost pointed intelligence, laced with venom~" the Ebony Crown chuckled, side-eyeing Gus, who visibly flinched, feeling as if the artifact could see straight through him.
And it could.
The moment Gus touched its being, the Ebony Crown saw everything, and couldn't help but savor each second.
"Do you really like hanging with your grandpa?" the Ebony Crown wondered, staring at Gus through its reflection.
What took Ricky off guard wasn't that the Ebony Crown had shifted its appearance, it was that there wasn't a single trace of long hair.
Only a perfect, blackened reflection of his son.
"Or do you do it because you want to be closer to the family?" The Ebony Crown asked, taking a deliberate step forward.
Instinctively, Gus stepped back, caught off guard by the feeling of his expression and intentions being completely seen through.
"To your father-"
BAM
Before it could finish, the Ebony Crown's throat was grabbed and slammed into the nearby wall, and it immediately raised a hand in surrender under Ricky's hateful gaze.
Slowly, its form shifted back into his reflection and only then did Ricky turn back towards the frozen stiff Gus.
"Gus, stop."
In the real world, Ricky pried his hand away from the crown as Gus blinked, returning his gaze forward.
A little taken aback, he stared blankly off to the side, trying to process the intensity of what had just happened.
"I-I'm sorry-" Gus stammered, returning his gaze to his father, who only cupped his cheek.
"Don't be, you didn't do anything wrong." Ricky said, smiling reassuringly as Gus forced himself to mirror the expression before turning back to Henry.
"What did it say?" Carmine asked, his tone almost demanding as Gus stared blankly at Lucky.
"Nothing." Gus muttered, turning his head toward the ground as Lucky raised an eyebrow and stepped closer.
"Aye, kiddo, are-"
"No, I'm fine," Gus interrupted, awkwardly turning away from his grandpa.
With that single gesture, Ricky immediately wound up his arm and flung the Ebony Crown through the sliding screen door.
"I'll be right back and Lucky's grill master until I return to my rightful throne." Ricky declared, tossing the remaining artifacts inside the house before stomping after them.
Leaving the Lucianos alone with a glaring problem: two of them were dangerously close to killing each other.
"I'm sorry, mommy~" Augustine cried, sniffling in Carla's arms as Cardinal Sebastian immediately patted the back of his head.
"No, no, you're fine-"
"Yes, Augustine, it isn't your fault but those damned things." Agatha scoffed, her words instinctive, yet shocking everyone nearby.
Almost everyone had expected her to blame Carla or Augustine entirely, but her previous experiences had sharpened her focus; her full hatred was directed solely at the artifacts and nothing else.
Sniff
"It's not?" Zatanna asked, a pang of guilt in her voice as she fiddled with her black hair.
Agatha smiled warmly at her daughter's question, pressing her forehead to hers with both physical and metaphorical reassurance.
"Not at all. Their powers drive even the sanest mad, none of you are at fault," Agatha said, planting reassuring kisses on both of her children's heads so as to not leave Johnny out.
It had been meant for her children, a moment of comfort and reassurance, yet its warmth extended further.
Carla found herself looking toward Agatha in gratitude, struck by the unexpected tenderness.
As their eyes met briefly, Carla watched the witch's gaze widen in surprise at the display, before Agatha offered a silent, understanding nod.
It was an unspoken acknowledgment that spoke volumes, bridging the space between them with quiet empathy.
"Sorry, Zatanna~" Augustine whispered softly, reaching out a hand to wave at his sister, who was crying quietly as well.
Sniff
"Me too~" Zatanna whined, reaching out for Augustine as the guilt between the two siblings became completely palpable.
The two mothers watched this and slowly let them down, letting the siblings rush into each other's arms in a tight, heartfelt hug.
"See, that's how Lucianos resolve their problems!" Lucky laughed cheerily, running up and scooping the siblings into his embrace.
"But we've got mouths to feed, so get back to your stations!" Lucky barked, though his smile betrayed the sternness in his tone.
It was hard not to smile as he watched the two children quickly wipe away their tears and nod dutifully.
However, as the others returned to their places, Carmine remained seated, his expression blank, while Maria leaned over, gently trying to cheer him up.
"Oh, honey, I know how much you wanted it-"
"Aye, Carmine."
At the familiar tone, Carmine rigidly turned his expression to the side, looking at Lucky with a hollow gaze he knew all too well.
"Come help your grandpa on the grill since after all, I need a second-in-command." Lucky said, patting the space beside him as Carmine's eyes slowly welled with tears.
BAM
"Oof," Lucky muttered at Carmine slamming into his leg, clinging tightly as he ruffled the boy's hair gently, trying to steady him.
"There, there, kiddo, it's alright," Lucky said, smiling warmly as he wiped away Carmine's tears with his thumb.
"But you're a Luciano, so stop f*cking cry and grab these tongs-"
SNIFF
"O-"
SNIFF
"O-"
SNIFF
"Ok~" Carmine said, choking back his sniffles as he took the tongs to help his grandpa.
Meanwhile, inside the house, Ricky was busy tossing the artifacts into the room with the only radio, while in his mental scape, they scrambled desperately, trying to appease their wielder.
"Wait, wait-"
BAM
"KUREK!" The Ebony Crown choked, its neck held and pinned against the black, gooey walls as Ricky's eyes burned with fury.
"Where do you get off talking to my sons like that, huh?" Ricky asked, laughing coldly, his gaze forcing nothing but dread into the being before him.
"HUH!" Ricky roared, his will pressing down on all of the ebony artifacts, forcing them to their knees amidst the weight of it.
His sovereign aura, more formidable than it had ever been, left the ebony artifacts speechless, stunned by the sheer speed at which mere will was growing.
"Let us explain-"
"YOU WAIT YOUR F*CKING TURN!" Ricky yelled, a tide of green aura slamming into the Ebony Shield, yanking it backward and slamming it into the other wall at the side.
"L-L-Listen, we don't mean to-"
"I've been lenient with your crap because I literally binded you to my blood, and f*ck, I've tried to be understanding!" Ricky yelled, his laughter fading as he jabbed his pointing finger into the Crown's cheek.
"But you, the Crown, wielded by the most unworthy f*cking person on this globe, actually have the balls to say my son can't use you-"
"H-He can~" the Ebony Crown whispered, catching Ricky's attention as it hurriedly tried to squeeze out more words.
"H-He can use us, it's simply preference~" The Ebony Crown whispered drily, trying to pry Ricky's hand away to no avail.
"Why?" Ricky asked, his face vengeful as he stared down the artifact.
"T-Take the eldest for example~"
"He has been wielded by y-your bloodline for generations. Have you not wondered how it's decided who inherits the mantle when there are multiple candidates?" The Ebony Crown squeezed out, its voice trembling under Ricky's unwavering gaze.
GASP
The Ebony Crown gasped, clutching its neck as Ricky released his grip and turned back to the Ebony Blade.
"I already know about the trials-"
"It's more than that~" The Ebony Crown coughed, rubbing its neck with a heavy sigh.
"Then f*cking summarize." Ricky gestured, halting the crown with a finger and turning his gaze towards the Ebony Blade.
"Our inherent qualities are replications of our inherent powers." The Ebony Blade explained, gesturing to all of his siblings who are completely different.
"However, this isn't supposed to happen, not until you've fully perished or relished our partnership." The Ebony Blade said, its distress evident since it hadn't even understood how Augustine had called upon it.
"The blood binding." Ricky frowned, realization dawning as the Ebony Blade slowly sighed and nodded.
"The blood binding must've altered the rules originally set and now, although we are wielded by you-"
"You can also be wielded by my kids." Ricky finished, watching as they all slowly nodded in acknowledgement.
"Why did you go for Johnny?" Ricky asked immediately, gesturing toward the Ebony Shield, his frustration clear at the inexplicable choice.
Thrawn he could shelve for now, but of all the things he'd grown to know about his own son, he couldn't understand why the Shield would pick him.
"Johnny's always beating the living sh*t outta Garfield and-"
'Ask him why he attacks Garfield.' The Ebony Shield explained, using the wall to help itself upright.
"You shouldn't know—" the Ebony Blade scoffed, certain his sibling couldn't have known.
"His hand brushed against my metal before Ricky pulled me toward him." The Ebony Shield explained, watching as the Blade's expression shifted, understanding dawning immediately.
"Ask the young Johnny why he attacks Garfield, and you shall understand what we mean." The Ebony Shield said, knowing it would be better for Ricky to hear it from Johnny himself rather than have one of them explain it.
"Fine." Ricky scoffed, opening his eyes to the real world and storming out of the room.
"B-But the radio—" the Ebony Chalice whined, throwing an immediate tantrum in Ricky's mind.
"After!" Ricky yelled at the artifact, watching them all sigh dejectedly as they patiently waited.
BAM
"Aye, Johnny, c'mere!" Ricky called, slamming open the sliding glass door and fixing his gaze on Johnny, who was holding his sister's hand.
"But—"
"Now!" Ricky barked, waving his hand insistently as Zatanna wiped her eyes and gently pushed her little brother toward their father.
With an unpleasant frown, Johnny crossed his arms and stormed over to his father, staring up at him with a clearly displeased expression.
"Why do you keep messing with Garfield?" Ricky asked the million-dollar question that would suddenly open up his mind to his children's inherent qualities.
"Because he's stupid—"
"Don't lie to me." Ricky interrupted, seeing through the clear falsehood, his curiosity piqued as his eyebrow rose.
"H-" Johnny started, turning back to Zatanna, who smiled warmly at him from a distance.
"It's okay." Zatanna whispered, giving him a reassuring thumbs-up as Johnny returned his gaze to his father, then quickly ducked his eyes toward the ground.
"He bullies Mommy's cat." Johnny muttered, kicking a pebble as Ricky's eyebrows knitted in curiosity.
"I don't!" Garfield yelled quickly, interrupting the story as the crows nudged him up the stairs.
"My seduction is not bullying-" Garfield pleaded, trying to frame himself differently in the readers' minds.
"What?" Ricky asked, clarifying, as he shushed Garfield to the side with a flick of his hand.
"He won't leave her alone, so I make him leave her alone." Johnny frowned, unable to explain it any other way and simply stating it as it was.
'An attack with defensive intent.' The Ebony Shield's words rang in Ricky's head, almost excited at the man Johnny would become with such qualities.
'Such resolve to protect, he is a worthy successor.' The Ebony Shield commended, almost proud that Ricky had given him the chance at having this future wielder.
5 minutes later,
BAM
The door where the Ebony artifacts had been thrown suddenly burst open, and Ricky stepped through, squinting at them for a long moment.
"Fine, you can have your successors." Ricky said, knowing that if anything happened to him, he could rest easier knowing his children would inherit them.
"But I don't want to let you off with just a slap on the wrist." Ricky continued, walking over to the radio and turning it to their most hated channel.
"And for the news-"
'NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!' They all screeched, their cries ripping through Ricky's mind as he slowly tuned them out.
'WE'LL LET HIM, ALL OF THEM, USE US SO PLEASE, SPARE US FROM THE NEWS!'
The Ebony artifacts' screams gradually faded as Ricky shut them out, until only silence lingered in his mind.
Though it might have seemed dramatic to an outsider, for beings who had lived far longer than any mortal, the daily events of the world had grown tediously monotonous.
Lifetimes became a series of repetitions, with only minor variations across cultures and eras.
So to be forced to listen to the trivialities of daily news, be it the petty scandals, mundane misfortunes, and fleeting crises, was almost a form of torment for these ancient entities.
Ricky chuckled softly, observing with a ruthless smile at the artifacts thrashing violently around the radio, their displeasure almost comical.
Closing the door behind him, he rounded the corner, only to freeze when a pair of red eyes stared from the shadows behind him, piercing through the dim light with a predator's focus.
"Alright, you can come out now." Ricky sighed, the true reason for entering the house revealing itself.
Although part of it had to do with the artifacts, another part was the piercing gaze he had felt when Carmine reached for them.
It was the original reason he hadn't immediately stopped him, and he was slightly taken aback by the nerve of someone actually spying on him, until he caught a flash of red.
"You're one of Lilith's, right? I mean, you have to be to walk into my house," Ricky laughed, spreading his arms toward the lurking shadows that slowly emerged with a vampiric figure.
"Apologies, but I was instructed by my queen to deliver this message to you while you were alone."
The first thing that struck him was her long, flowing white hair, cascading over the black armor like liquid moonlight, accentuating every curve of her slim yet perky figure.
Each movement of her body seemed deliberately practiced to perfection, wrapped in a predator's elegance, with the crowning touch being her pale skin.
Yet it wasn't just her form that drew attention, it was her eyes.
Crimson and burning with a hypnotic allure that could sway any foolish man to lose himself in their depths, her eyes were unlike Lilith's, which brimmed with life.
Hers were completely hollow, void of the very spark that had once given her existence meaning, purpose, and the fire to continue living.
"Goddamn~" Ricky shamelessly said, leaning on the nearby wall and completely ignoring those lifeless eyes and bluntly staring at her figure.
"Why do you look so familiar?" Ricky wondered, tilting his head as his memories stirred at the sight of her perky, armored breasts.
"I am Baroness Blood, loyal vassal of my queen, and-"
Snap
"And you were married to that loser, the, uh-" Ricky laughed, the memory hitting him instantly.
But as he clung to that recollection, the mental tether he had relied on slipped away, the connection unraveling even as recognition flooded him.
Leaving out the single piece that would have made everything clear.
"Baron Blood-"
SNAP
"Yeah, that freak with the ugly face!" Ricky exclaimed, snapping his fingers as the memory hit him, shaking his head at the nostalgia.
"Wait, did I kill that guy?"
FLASHBACK
"M-My love!" Baroness Blood gasped, her voice trembling as she tried to retreat with Baron Blood, her hand reaching out toward him in desperation.
But her escape was short-lived as the High-ranking vampires, quick to seize the opportunity, caught her before she could flee.
Baroness Blood's body was restrained, her arms held tight by the very vampires who had once followed Dracula's reign without question.
Baron Blood turned back, his eyes locking with hers as his face was expressionless, but there was a flicker of something.
Swirling within his red eyes, he saw the trust in her eyes, the love that had always been there between them and for a brief, aching moment, he saw her smile, a smile full of hope that he would come back for her.
But that smile faltered, and as he turned his back on her, the reflection of his betrayal struck her like a dagger.
"My love?"
SNAP
Ricky snapped his fingers a few times before her hollow eyes, the same ones tied to that vivid memory that had reduced her to this state, as she slowly returned her empty gaze to him.
"Uh, you there?" Ricky chuckled, tilting his head as she vanished for a moment, standing motionless like some kind of statue.
"Apologies-"
"Don't apologize, never apologize to me~" Ricky sleazy said, stepping closer as his hands slowly slid over her cold, pale skin.
DING
[Mission Received: Lily Cromwell]
Difficulty: Extremely easy
Character Sheet: A
Description: Lily Cromwell was born the daughter of the village doctor, Jacob Charles Cromwell. Unknown to most, her father secretly served Dracula. One day, he received orders to resurrect John Falsworth, who lay entombed in the Tower of London with a stake through his heart. When Jacob removed the stake, Falsworth returned to life as Baron Blood, slaughtered Lily's sister Charlotte, and turned Lily into a vampire. Over time, a twisted bond of sadistic Stockholm syndrome formed between her and Baron Blood. However, following her battle with Dracula, the last shred of love she had held onto, was brutally stripped away by Baron Blood turning his back to her. Left for dead, she now exists as little more than a walking meat puppet, her body and will enslaved to darkness.
Objective: Simply command her to fulfill your desires and she'll do so, without any questions.
Reward: 10 IP
Main Mission:
Impregnante Once:
Rewards: Lily's Power or 1 Mythic Coupon, 5 Legendary Coupons
Impregnate Twice:
Rewards: ?????????
Additional Missions:
Fix Lily's shattered heart: (Incomplete)
Reward: Mythic Skill Coupon
Bonus Missions:
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???????????????????
???????????????????
???????????????????
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[Do you wish to-]
'F*ck yes.' Ricky said immediately, the faint ding of mission acceptance echoing in his mind as he bit his lip.
"I'm Ricky, by the way." Ricky said with a chuckle, his eyes briefly scanning how effortlessly obedient she seemed within not only the system panel, but in real time as his hand simply caressed her armor.
"Baroness Blood or Lily Cromwell, whatever the vampire king prefers." Baroness Blood replied, bowing gracefully and unflinching even as Ricky's hand traced lightly across her arm.
When she raised her gaze back to him, Ricky sort of frowned as he continued staring into her eyes.
"Take off your shirt." Ricky said abruptly, curiosity threading through his voice.
Without hesitation, Lily's hands immediately moved to obey, fluid and precise in their motions that were so eerily flawless.
It was in that instant that Ricky's smile evaporated.
She moved with the exactness of a trained automaton, every motion flawless yet devoid of thought or resistance.
It was as if she were no longer a living being, no better than a doll, beautiful and obedient, but frighteningly hollow.
SIGH
"You really are a f*cking meat puppet~" Ricky sighed, pressing a hand to his face in dismay as the realization sank in as it almost took the fun out of it.
"I apologiz-"
"I mean, with the redheaded chick, you know, she had some sort of spark but-" Ricky muttered to himself, letting his gaze linger on Lily before shrugging, a mix of frustration and bemusement on his face.
"Whatever, I've f*cked for less." Ricky muttered, opening a closet door and nodding.
"Let's go, I'm kinda horny and I can't pass up a free lunch for a second time," Ricky said, gesturing toward the closet as Lily obediently followed, stepping inside without hesitation.
But the moment Ricky lifted his foot to follow, he froze at the single word that almost made his heart stop in his chest.
"Daddy?"
Danielle appeared around the corner, holding Sarah's hand. Sarah's eyes immediately lit up as they caught sight of the open door.
"Grandpa's really angry-" Danielle chirped, skipping along with her sister toward Ricky, who side-eyed Lily beginning to remove her clothes.
"PORTAL TO IMAGINATION LAND!" Sarah yelled, pointing at the closet, her mind exploding with every fantastical possibility a simple door could hold.
BAM
"NO!" Ricky screamed, slamming the door shut as the sudden force made the two girls flinch, startled by the rare display of his raised voice.
"It's-" Ricky gulped, sidestepping away from the door with two quick motions.
Though he had been thinking about a quickie, the idea of his daughters witnessing it made his stomach twist.
"IT'S A PORTAL TO MONSTER LAND!" Ricky blurted instead, spinning toward the girls and raising his arms in a mock-Frankenstein pose.
"AHHHHHHHHHH!" The two screamed playfully, bolting away as Ricky chased after them, laughing despite himself.
'Later, just a little later.' Ricky whispered to himself, sighing as he awkwardly adjusted his boner and resigned to spend the rest of the day fully with his kids rather than getting laid for once.
All the while, Lily finished removing her clothes, her red eyes faintly glowing in the dim light.
She remained perfectly still, obediently following Ricky's previous orders to the letter, standing completely naked and waiting patiently for further instruction.
Meanwhile Outside,
"HAHAHAHAHAHA!" Danielle and Sarah shrieked with laughter, darting toward the door only to be scooped up by Ricky.
"Got you!" Ricky laughed, pressing his cheeks against theirs as he spun them around.
Their giggles only grew louder, filling the backyard with pure, infectious joy that rippled along the rest of the spectators.
"All right, now to reclaim my throne." Ricky said, setting the girls down as they immediately clung to his legs, giggling uncontrollably as he strode toward Lucky.
"And I'll take back my crown." Ricky laughed, snatching the tongs from Lucky, who muttered something under his breath and stepped aside, surrendering the grill to Ricky's hands.
For now, at least, Lucky held back his simmering rage, channeling it instead into tending his own grill with quiet precision.
"Now, who's ready for some f*cking burgers?"
The entire block erupted in cheers, their roars reverberating so fiercely that the ground seemed to tremble beneath Ricky's feet as he methodically went to work at the grill.
The scent of sizzling meats and spices drifted through the air, filling not only their noses, but their stomach with a food they never expected from Ricky.
For hours, the Luciano family served their community, plate after plate sliding across the tables, laughter and conversation weaving seamlessly into the sizzle and crackle of the grills.
Finally, as the last of the neighbors had been fed, the family gathered around their own table, plates piled high and smiles stretching across every face.
The warmth of shared accomplishment and togetherness radiated through the air, a rare moment of peace and pride for the family amidst the chaos of their lives.
However, Ricky didn't even touch his food.
He simply watched, a quiet smile tugging at his lips as he took in the most precious things in his world: his family.
Laughter bounced around the table, teasing and playful, and for the first time in a long while, everyone was just together.
There were no feuds, no alliances, and no grudges, only a rare, peaceful moment within the family.
BAM
Until Lil' Tony shattered it, slamming a radio down onto the table with all the subtlety of a cannon blast.
"Boss, it's happening!" Lil Tony urgently said, turning up the dial before Ricky could even react.
SIGH
Ricky sighed, shrugging off the dullness of the speech as he only then began munching on his burger.
Minutes dragged by as Avery Brundage rambled on about the importance of the Olympics, its integrity, and its necessity in such times.
Everyone else rolled their eyes at his words, even the children, who giggled as they mimicked their father's expression of exasperation.
"Now, for the results of Germany's proposal to allow mutants to participate in the games." Avery Brundage announced, his voice trembling at the next words presented before him.
A sudden hush fell over the backyard, the entire community going deathly quiet, and every eye locked on that single radio.
"O-oh dear~" Avery muttered, as Ricky's hamburger slipped from his hands, clattering onto the table.
"Say it, SAY IT!" Ricky bellowed, his eyes flaring with fresh intensity, a predatory grin spreading across his face.
The radio quivered, almost as if it could sense the full weight of Ricky's glare, his presence pressing down like a storm ready to break.
Every inhale he drew seemed to sharpen the tension, his eyes boring into the small device that now held the power to change everything.
"With an almost unanimous vote, the committee has accepted Germany's plea."
That single sentence, shakily escaping from Avery Brundage's lips, sent ripples through the air, across the world, carrying consequences that no one could yet fathom.
A shift so subtle yet so monumental that it would unknowingly alter everything anyone thought they knew.
And yet, amid the hushed murmurs and frozen stares, only one response was noted for the man who would gain the most from such a thing.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Ricky erupted, laughter spilling from him like wildfire, his hands clutching his stomach as he cackled with the unrestrained glee of a supervillain basking in his inevitability.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
Meanwhile In Nazi Germany,
It is true that Germany has been villainized for a purpose.
But what people always fail to understand about Germany, despite the slander, the cruelty, the undeniable horrors it unleashed during World War II, is the bitterness.
A bitterness that didn't begin with Hitler, or with ideology.
It even didn't begin in 1936, it began in the mud-soaked trenches of World War I and after the war, Germany wasn't just defeated, it was shut out, isolated by the rest of Europe.
Its economy collapsed, its politics fractured, and the very soul of the nation felt shattered.
An entire generation of men was lost be it dead, disfigured, or broken beyond repair.
The 1920s in Germany were chaos incarnate.
Revolutions sparked and failed, street battles between radicals turned cities into war zones, democracy was brittle, faith in the system was almost nonexistent.
The people were starving, and the air was thick with desperation.
Then, if it couldn't get any worse, then came the Treaty of Versailles.
A document that didn't just end the war, it humiliated Germany.
Reparations were demanded on a scale that mocked reality since it wasn't just money; it was blood, dignity, and hope.
Germany was asked to bleed for a century to pay for a war that had consumed them like everyone else.
They were an injured, crippled tiger, backed into a corner, surrounded by wolves wearing the mask of justice.
And when you push a wounded animal, cornered and afraid, with nothing left to lose, what do you suppose it does?
It attacks.
The 1936 Olympic Games were a propaganda scheme.
Let no one twist the truth as it was designed from the ground up to project strength, unity, and superiority to the outside world, to cloak a nation's rising fury in the silk of international pageantry.
But that spectacle was solely built for Germany's enemies.
For Germany's people, however, it was entirely different.
Because inside the nation's tightly-sealed bubble, behind the posters, the parades, the stadiums, there was no illusion for these games.
There was only rage.
There was only grief.
There was only this quiet, smoldering pain of a people who felt the world had broken them and just walked away.
In 1920 and 1924, Germany wasn't invited to the Olympic Games, not even as a guest, not even as a rival.
They were banned, barred, and humiliated.
Already gutted by the Treaty of Versailles, stripped of its colonies, its economy shattered, its currency worthless, its men either dead or too scared to live, it was also stripped of the one thing that could not be rationed: Pride.
For years, German citizens could only listen as other countries celebrated their greatness, parading athletes across global stages, crowning champions while Germany sat in the dark.
Because during those time those other countries mocked them with questions that only twisted the German people's bitterness:
What did Olympic glory mean to a child who couldn't afford bread?
What anthem could drown out the sound of his children crying from hunger?
What is the Olympic spirit to an athlete who came home to find his medals worth less than firewood?
What did gold medals mean to families burning furniture to survive the winter?
These questions were essentially paraded in editorials, in broadcasts, in classrooms, and some even said it to their faces.
It wasn't just mockery, it was erasure.
Germany had once been the engine of Europe as a place of poets, engineers, soldiers, and scientists.
That was the nation's pride.
But now in the eyes of the world, they had become a crippled state of beggars and broken men, undeserving of sympathy, unworthy of respect.
The humiliation didn't just come from lost battles or broken treaties but came from being seen as less, as weak, as defeated, as pathetic.
And the worst part?
Even the average German started to believe it.
By 1928 and 1932, Germany was technically allowed to return, but it wasn't ready, and in those games, they were akin to ghosts.
The country barely limped to the starting line, still buried under economic ruin and international shame.
No one feared German athletes, not anymore, and above all, no one respected them.
But it was the silence of the world stage that only confirmed what many Germans had begun to whisper to themselves in the dark: Maybe we deserve this.
Maybe the glory days are gone for good and maybe the Reich would be remembered not for its philosophy or progress, but for its collapse.
The Olympic Games in Amsterdam and Los Angeles were reminders, not just of exclusion, but of irrelevance.
And for a nation already nursing its wounds, irrelevance was worse than punishment.
Every cheer from foreign crowds, every medal raised under another flag, every newspaper headline hailing athletes from across the Atlantic or across the Channel.
They weren't just victories, they were reminders that Germany had become a ghost.
And so, when 1936 finally came, it was not just an Olympic bid: It was resurrection.
It was a reclamation.
It was vengeance dressed in velvet.
For the rest of the world, the 1936 Berlin Games were seen as propaganda but for the German people, it was proof that they still mattered, proof that they could rise again, proof that the world had to look at them.
By 1936, the streets were clean, the stadiums stood tall, the factories roared again, and the speeches were sharp, the uniforms crisp, and the people were ready.
They had spent a generation swallowing humiliation, and they saw the Games as something far more sacred than sport.
They didn't care if it was politics and they didn't care if it was propaganda.
They cared that, for the first time in living memory, Germany would rise in front of the world like a Phoenix.
The 1936 Olympics weren't about medals for these people, they were about revenge.
Because deep down, many believed these Games were their redemption arc, proof that Germany was no longer on its knees.
That the world would regret what it had done to them and they didn't want a fair race.
They wanted to win.
They wanted to silence the world.
They wanted to feel powerful again.
And so, beneath the glitz, beneath the cheers, beneath the blinding white smiles of diplomats and broadcasters, there pulsed a quiet, furious hunger:
"Look at us now!"
"Look at us now!"
"Look at us now!"
They chanted these four words like a spell, like a vow as the butterfly effect had painted these four words across banners and stadiums, had folded them into song, into posture, into the national heartbeat.
It was not just Germany's pride, it was its declaration of survival.
That pride reached its crescendo one fateful evening, as the nation gathered not for sport, but for prophecy.
The rally was colossal, a sea of red and black banners under flood lights so bright they made the stars feel shy as they filled the square with chants until the air itself quivered.
A thundercloud of boots stamped the rhythm of a nation reborn.
The stadium pulsed with bodies, with belief, and at the center, a microphone waited.
And from the side stage, one man stepped into the light, not quickly, not dramatically, because he didn't need to.
His silence was louder than applause.
Adolf Hitler walked with the gravity of the empire, the crowd holding its breath, as if afraid that even oxygen might interrupt what was about to unfold.
The camera lenses trembled as the brass of the microphones gleamed.
Children hoisted on shoulders pointed with eyes full of fevered awe as the chant had become whispers, the whisper became stillness.
And then, in that great hush, Adolf Hitler seemed to finally speak.
"Germany does not beg!"
"Germany does not crawl!"
"Germany remembers!"
Three spaced sentences, each shouted from the Fuhrer's mouth, ensued a wave of roars, tsunami of applause before he continued.
"They tried to erase us, they tried to reduce us to ghosts, to men without pride, women without hope, children without a future!" Adolf Hitler marked, slamming his fist onto the podium then pointing at every single person in the crowd.
"But we were not broken, we were waiting!" Hitler assured them all, showing they were not cowering in the darkness but sharpening their teeth, rewriting a history that many nations before them had done.
"Waiting for the hour when the world would once again turn its gaze to the Reich, not in pity, but in awe!" Hitler yelled, looking over the crowd, as if reading their hearts.
"And now, Providence has chosen us not just as a nation, but as a new species!" Hitler remarked, gripping his fist tightly to make it tremble as if mimicking the heart of the nation.
"The blood of the old world has run cold, but in us flows something greater, stronger, purer!" Hitler remarked while extending a hand.
"Some are born different, gifted, touched by fate, by god, and the old world out there calls them mutants!" Hitler roared, pointing out towards the side, towards the western world.
"I call them signs!" Hitler then elevated his hand, raising up the cheers of these easily malleable men and women, bending to his words like clay.
"Proof that God has not abandoned us, but elevated us, that these sons and daughters are not curses, they are lightning made flesh, the final instruments of German rebirth!" Hitler's words were like sparks and the crowd gasoline, erupting them with fists to sky, tears streaming, as mutant children stepped forward, clad in uniforms, bearing medals and medals to come.
"Let London see, let Paris see, and let Washington tremble!" Hitler remarked as the first Hitler youth held up their hand.
Their tiny palms ignited each fire, earth, water, and air before Hitler spread out his arms.
"Look at us now!" Hitler once again shouted the catch phrase that had come about by Ricky's intervention with the world as it sparked another eruption from the crowd.
"Look at us not merely surviving, but evolving." Hitler's words were met with the grins of two men at his side, the film crew taking note of their selective and unique appearance as it was revealed to be none other than Sebastion Shaw and Mister Sinister.
"Berlin shall host the Games, but do not be fooled, this is no mere celebration of sport, but it is a reckoning!" Hitler remarked, his words only furthered by the children hosting their hands into the sky and combining them into one ball of unity.
"A stage for the world to witness the rise of a new order, one nation, one people, and one future!" Hitler exploded alongside the ball, a fierce spectacle that left the German people in awe as the four children controlled the elements into a sparkling auraboris.
"Let every race begin with our anthem, let every finish line end in our glory, and let them all know, they were right to fear us!"
"Let them know to look at us now!"
The crowd became thunderous all while the cameras rolled because this wasn't an event, it was a spark.
One's whose light shined so bright that it made history blink and deep beneath the pageantry, the world shuddered.
Because the Games were never just games.
They were always Germany's revenge.
Author Note: Sorry about the dealy in posting, I'm sick and shiz got me all mixed up and I kinda ruhsed this chap. Tell me if its all good or youthink it needs some fixing cause I sort of rushed it.