Chapter 1: The Birth of Hevnokren
This is the natural state of the universe: endless, unrelenting war.
Right here before your eyes is just one of the galaxy's many bloated empire capitals. A festering beacon for the lazy and the pacifistic. A bloated planet populated by these fat sheep who once spat down on you. Now? They exist solely for us to butcher and feast on.
So I order you all: Loot and pillage. Rape and kill. Ravage and enslave.
As is our right!
For this is our rightful place in the universe: As its bloody-handed conquerors!
Teach them that there is only one constant in reality, and that constant is conflict. That there is only one true god of mortals, and that god is violence. And that our god has only one commandment, and that commandment is...
Might makes Right.
- The Dragonborn addressing his Dread Armada before pillaging the Nova Empire's capital world of Xandar
x-X-x
Years ago
Who I was mattered little anymore.
A mere mortal man. An avid Skyrim fan. A too-honest working man who impotently vented his rage in the gym. A man that was told that he should just be a good little boy and follow the rules set down by the rich and powerful who most certainly knew better than I. A man disillusioned by the empty promises of inner peace and prosperity.
I had sat alone in my flat in the dead of night playing my modded Skyrim- enjoying a quiet Saturday night.
One moment, I was relaxing on my comfy leather chair late at night in my bedroom- watching my computer screen as my Nord Warrior character furiously fucked a Redguard female Bandit Chief that I had defeated.
And in the next moment- by some divine hand- it was midday, I was suddenly standing on hard soil and I was in a place that was certainly not in my bedroom but instead looked like a cross between a landfill and a beach.
"What the hell?!" I half-growled and half-shouted in a voice that was most assuredly not mine. Deeper, much deeper like a soldier who had seen too much war.
I immediately jumped to my feet and glanced all around- Fight-or-Flight instincts kicking in. I raised my new massive fists armoured in gauntlets in preparation to fight for my life, but I found that there was no one around.
"There is only me in this landfill." my gravelly voice muttered in distaste.
My surroundings were only what appeared to be an endless sea of landfill all around me. Mountains and mountains of trash and refuse. The smell of rot and decay was beyond horrible as well. And more trash seemed to fall from the sky from colourful portals, it was incredibly odd.
But what was even odder was… everything really.
"Did someone drug me or have I finally snapped?" I wondered out loud as I raised my open palms to my face, before moving onto the rest of me. I was exactly like how my character in Skyrim was- I had become 300 pounds of tall, battle-hardened Nord Warrior clad in modded Dragonbone ebonsteel armour.
It was incredibly disconcerting.
Even more so when a phone rang in my... pocket?
I didn't even know Dragonplate armour had pockets. I attempted to fish it out and found a silver smartphone. It wasn't my phone, so it must have been the Dragonborn's. How could the Dragonborn have a phone?
Tapping at the glass screen, I was greeted by an open email.
---
Dear Mr. Hevnokren,
Warmest of greetings from the Company!
Though this is highly irregular, let us first start by sending our sincerest apologies and a brief explanation.
Due to a mishap, your soul (which we are legally required to state that the Company does not own and rightfully belongs in another omniverse and its Greater God) was claimed by one of our contractors and unlawfully brought within Company premises. This in turn drove your God to visit Company HQ in an effort to retrieve you. Due to certain Company core policies interacting with each other, we could not return you to your God.
However, The Company and your Greater God have come to an Agreement that has (legally) satisfied both parties.
So, allow us to welcome you to The Company as our newest contractor!
Due to the Agreement with your Greater God, your starting world [Marvel Cinematic Universe (w/ TVA)] and your body [The Last Dragonborn (M)] has already been chosen for you as well as [Pocket Dimension] to hold your inventory. Said options have been deducted from your starting credit as well.
We at the Company hope that this is the start of a long fruitful relationship with you.
Happy Hunting!
Sincerely,
Upper Management
P.S. Attached is a message from your Greater God.
---
That explains a lot of things.
The Company from Waifu Catalog. They were extradimensional slavers.
Man, woman, child, hero, villain, or eldritch gods- It didn't matter. The Company, with their immense and unknowable power, bought and sold them all like cattle; and Contractors were the title for the people who they charged with Capturing such beings.
For each person I Captured, the Company would pay me with Company Credits that scaled with the Capture's strength/skill/magical power/intelligence… Such Company Credits could be then used to purchase my own mind-controlled slaves or some magical power. And now, I was apparently one of said Company Contractors.
I couldn't help but grin.
This will be enjoyable.
"However… what does my Greater God have to say about this?" I wondered out loud as my armoured fingers deftly slid out from the envelope the message from my god. It was likely from Akatosh- the Dragon God of Time in The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim universe, and his spineless Five Commandments.
The folded paper was a tiny thing- no larger than a credit card.
Would it contain a heartfelt apology as it mournfully says that it sold me like chattel to reach whatever agreement they had with the Company? Or would it hold a command for me? Urging me to protect the weak and champion their causes?
Both possibilities had me rolling my eyes in disgust, at least… until I opened the letter.
The small slip of parchment had its edges lined with gleaming brass foil, and a coppery fragrance wafted as I unfolded it and read the brief message written in blood- bright, red and still wet as if it was freshly spilt.
---
Dear Hevnokren, RAPE. KILL. PILLAGE. FOREVER
With Hugs and Kisses,
Your God
---
"Ha….Hahahaha!" I couldn't help but boom with raucous laughter at the message. "What a relief! That doesn't sound like Akatosh at all!"
It was indeed a command from my God, and it was a command that I wouldn't mind fulfilling.
Molag Bal was a likely suspect. It even had that mocking tone to it with how it was signed with a cheery heart and star. But I know for a fact that even the Daedric Princes are small fry compared to the Company. The scale of power needed to even enter in negotiations with the Company for just my soul was beyond mortal imagination.
Those stars at the end looked incredibly suspicious as well. They were all too cheerful for such a morbid message. Maybe it was a joke or a hint? Either way, this was a god that almost seemed worthy of worship. But I had too many questions in mind for me to accept my mysterious Greater God without reservations.
Still… even my Greater God called me by that name.
Hevnokren.
It was my Skyrim character's name, but I'll admit that it's fitting now that I have become him.
It was an uncreative name that I made by smashing two words in Dragon Language: 'Hevno' meant 'Brutally' while 'Kren' meant 'Break.'
Hevnokren was a fitting name for an evil Dragonborn who I had made to be most aligned to Molag Bal, the Daedric Prince of Domination and Enslavement. An evil Dragonborn who had (by the power of modding) enslaved his enemies and now that I was a Contractor of the Company, it became even more fitting. It became a reality.
With the Mace of Molag Bal in one hand and Illusion Fear magic in the other, I played through Skyrim breaking my enemies' bones along with their minds.
And it was a playstyle that I fully intended on continuing here in Marvel.
I gave a vicious grin of murderous delight.
"I suppose it's settled then. My name is Hevnokren." I mutter to myself- testing it out. The reverberating bass of my voice was pleasing to my ears as it echoed in my dragonplate helm.
As for the first world, the MCU was a mid-tier universe in the Company's danger rating. Dangerous, but not exceedingly so for Contractors. Thankfully, it was also rich in captures that I could turn in for Company Credit.
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