Apocalypse sensed Ernst's arrival and abruptly halted his assault.
He dropped to the scorched earth, his massive form rapidly shrinking.
He watched Ernst, his face twisting with a complicated, guarded expression.
When En Sabah Nur was first resurrected, he had arrogantly calculated that their power levels were closely matched.
He had assumed Ernst was stronger, but only by a narrow margin.
Time and brutal experience had violently corrected him. Ernst's strength shattered every conceivable limit, forcing the ancient god into a harsh reassessment.
After a year of ruthless strengthening and fully awakening his genetic absorption abilities, Apocalypse believed he could finally overpower the wizard.
Then came this recent clash. Ernst had pinned him to the dirt without exerting a fraction of his true effort.
The disparity was staggering.
Across the battlefield, the massive combat synth known as the General powered down.
Its dark cloak frayed into black mist, detaching and slowly coalescing into the ethereal, hovering figure of Ghost.
Simultaneously, the General's silver armor and long sword liquefied.
The living metal writhed and reshaped itself, resolving into the physical, red-haired avatar of the Red Queen.
Stripped of its symbiotic armor, the General's gruesome, undead features were briefly exposed.
Its jaw unhinged, and a towering, two-meter hound, Simba, leaped directly from its maw.
The General's towering frame then compressed, dwindling back to the size of an ordinary man.
Ernst surveyed the bizarre tableau.
He looked at Apocalypse, the Red Queen, Ghost, Simba, and the General.
"Explain," Ernst demanded, his voice dangerously calm.
"What exactly is going on here? Who started this?"
Apocalypse hesitated.
He cut a subtle glance past Ernst's shoulder.
Ernst followed his gaze. Hovering near the perimeter were Chris, Kyle, Clark, and little Eli, the true instigators of the chaos.
Ernst's face darkened into a scowl.
"Come here," Ernst commanded.
Chris, Kyle, and Clark immediately dropped their heads, shuffling forward with deeply sheepish expressions.
Eli, however, possessed absolutely zero tactical sense.
"Dad, it wasn't a real fight!" Eli piped up brightly.
"It was a battle for titles. If we win, the name 'Apocalypse' belongs to us. It is very important. You can't just stop it."
"A title?" Ernst repeated, utterly baffled.
"It is just a name. Why would you initiate a war over this?"
He turned his cold gaze back to the First Mutant.
"And you. Why would a god play along with something so incredibly tedious? Wagering your own title against children."
Apocalypse shrugged, entirely unbothered.
"I despise the name 'Apocalypse.' It was forced upon me by fearful mortals. They can have it if they wish."
The ancient mutant crossed his arms.
"But they insisted on earning it through combat. I agreed because I desired a real fight, and they happened to be standing there offering one."
The four children took his dismissive words hard, quietly filing the insult away as fuel for future training.
Ernst pinched the bridge of his nose and rounded on his wards.
"Why do you suddenly want the name 'Apocalypse' anyway? Have you absolutely nothing better to do?"
Chris cleared his throat, looking distinctly embarrassed.
"Well. I was discussing mutant politics with Eli and the others today. Specifically, codenames."
Chris gestured vaguely.
"Almost everyone has a unique title. Cyclops, White Queen, Mystique, Magneto. Eli thought the concept was fascinating. She insisted we needed impressive names to match."
"And what you collectively landed on was 'Apocalypse'," Ernst deduced flatly.
"For the four of you."
"No, no," Chris shook his head rapidly.
"I rejected the idea at first. Our position calls for absolute discretion. We keep our true strength hidden."
"But then I realized something," Chris continued.
"We don't need titles. The General and your summons do. A terrifying name acts as a psychological deterrent. It puts fear into the syndicates. I thought it made strategic sense for them, so I agreed to the brainstorming."
"It quickly became a branding issue. We tried Necromancer King, Zombie King, and Beastmaster. None of them carried enough apocalyptic weight."
"Then the Red Queen gave a suggestion. She pointed out that the four primary summons perfectly fit the archetype of the Four Horsemen."
Chris pointed at the heavy combat synth.
"The General evolved from undead tissue, spliced with vampiric genetics. It can spread viral infection through its bite and breed thralls. It is the perfect embodiment of Pestilence."
"Ghost is an ethereal entity. His power feeds on necrotic energy; he brings the chill of the grave to the living. He is undeniably Death."
Chris gestured to the massive hound.
"Simba operates on a gravitational singularity. His defining trait is a bottomless, devouring appetite. He represents Famine."
"And the Red Queen," Chris finished, nodding at the AI in her girl-avatar.
"Her Vibranium chassis can actively reshape into any lethal instrument of destruction, blades, axes, railguns. She is the literal manifestation of War."
"But there was a severe tactical snag," Chris explained.
"If the General and the others assume the mantles of the Four Horsemen, doesn't that inherently make them En Sabah Nur's subordinates?"
Chris scoffed. "Absolutely out of the question. So, to circumvent the hierarchy, we decided to formally claim the name 'Apocalypse' from him."
Ernst finally grasped the absolute absurdity of the situation.
He felt a rare, helplessness regarding his children's overactive imaginations.
One logical doubt lingered, however.
"The categorization of the Four Horsemen tracks," Ernst admitted.
"But 'Apocalypse' is a singular entity. Which one of them is meant to wear that crown?"
Eli gave him a devastatingly disappointed look.
"Dad, do you really think we didn't calculate that?" Eli crossed her small arms.
"Obviously, none of the summons can be Apocalypse on their own. We factored that in."
"They have a fusion form, don't they?" Eli asked brightly.
"When they all merge their mass and energy together into one giant, epic monster, that fusion becomes Apocalypse."
Ernst nearly dragged a hand down his face.
Being condescended to by a little girl was annoying.
"All right. We are absolutely done here for today," Ernst announced, his tone finalizing the matter.
"Everyone, return to your designated sectors immediately. No lingering."
Watching Ernst so thoroughly rattled by his own children, the surrounding mutant spectators found it deeply amusing.
For many of the hardened mercenaries, it was the very first time they had ever seen their cold, calculating leader lose his composure.
Muffled chuckles echoed across the staging ground as they turned and ambled back toward the underground base.
"Wait, Dad, we haven't settled!" Eli protested, highly unhappy with the ruling.
She dug her heels in, refusing to let the logic drop.
"The title is still undecided, we can't just, "
Ernst's patience completely snapped.
"Quiet," Ernst commanded, his voice laced with heavy, atmospheric pressure.
"This is my final decision. Are there any further objections?"
The harsh tone instantly shattered Eli's defiant expression.
She pouted, the absolute picture of childish grievance.
She dropped onto the dusty ground and muttered under her breath.
"Dad. You have absolutely no heart. I hope something freezing and wet falls right on your, "
Before the girl could finish her curse, the blood completely drained from Chris, Kyle, and Clark's faces.
They scrambled forward in sheer panic, violently clamping their hands over Eli's mouth.
Ernst watched them, completely baffled by their terrified reaction.
He was about to demand an explanation when the anomaly occurred.
Among the dispersing mutant crowd, a hydrokinetic was casually tossing a compressed sphere of water between his hands, practicing his elemental control.
The mutant walking directly behind him stumbled, accidentally clipping the heel.
The heavy, compressed water sphere flew wildly off course.
It sailed across the field and slammed directly into the side of Ernst's head.
The sphere ruptured. From crown to heel, Ernst was instantly, freezing wet.
Ernst slowly lifted a dripping hand.
He stared down at his soaked, ruined coat in absolute, dazed disbelief.
He slowly turned his gaze toward Eli.
She was still sitting in the dirt, peering up at him with a pout.
Ernst instantly connected the cause and effect of her muttered curse.
"What in the world is going on here?" Ernst asked, his voice deadly quiet.
The three older siblings exchanged deeply mournful looks.
Finally, Chris stepped up to face the firing squad.
"As you can see, she has awakened a probability ability," Chris explained carefully.
"Eli has become a literal bringer of bad luck."
Chris nodded at Ernst's soaked attire.
"This is exactly what the reality-warping looks like. But it isn't entirely negative."
"Occasionally, she alters probability favorably," Chris added quickly.
"If she says you'll win a bet, you will. We tested the parameters. On minor variables, her luck manipulation is absolute. On massive variables, it almost never triggers."
Ernst's eyes flickered. The vast, cosmic puzzle pieces slammed into place.
Eli had been genetically and spiritually forged from the fused consciousness of Gaia and Alaya.
Somewhere in that divine fusion, she had inherited the collective luck of the Earth and the total probability of mankind.
Her very existence passively bent the mathematical odds of reality around her.
The gift had always been dormant, woven into her DNA the same way natural order was woven into the planet.
It had just been too faint to measure.
Now, as she matured, those reality-warping threads were aggressively waking up.
"When exactly did this resonance start?" Ernst asked sharply.
"Has the feedback harmed her biology at all?"
"No," Chris assured him.
"We recognized the extreme danger the moment the anomalies started. We ran a full diagnostic on her body and her soul. She is perfectly insulated from the effects."
The confirmation settled Ernst's immediate paranoia.
He crossed the distance to Eli.
The little girl had both hands clamped tightly over her ears, watching him with the terrified guilt of a child caught stealing.
"All right," Ernst sighed, his expression softening fractionally.
"I am not angry."
He gave his shoulders a slight flex.
A pulse of thermal energy radiated from his core, instantly flashing the freezing water off his clothes into a cloud of dry steam.
"But you do not reach for this level of probability-manipulation on a petty whim. Do you understand the implications?"
"I understand," Eli nodded frantically.
"I won't ever do it again."
Profound relief loosened her tiny features the instant she realized she wasn't going to be punished.
She dropped her hands.
"And I won't fight for the Apocalypse title anymore either."
"You can have the name, if you truly desire it," Apocalypse stated from a few meters away, offering the title without a second thought.
Ernst adjusted his dry collar.
"And you?" Ernst asked the god.
"You would gladly go without a title?"
"It changes absolutely nothing of consequence," Apocalypse replied coldly.
"Let the terrified masses keep calling me Apocalypse. There is no confusion."
"Your summons only wear the title when they achieve their ultimate fusion state," Apocalypse reasoned.
"That catastrophic event might not trigger twice in a century."
"Furthermore, I am leaving Earth with you in a few days, regardless. The Black Shadow Mercenaries are short-handed in the outer sectors."
Apocalypse looked at the sky.
"I will be off-world permanently. It perfectly suits you to carry the dread of my name in my absence."
Ernst nodded slowly.
Apocalypse had expressed a deep, violent desire to conquer the cosmos before, but back then, Ernst had been entirely consumed by his study of the ancient mutant's genetic rules.
That meticulous dissection was now finished.
There was absolutely no strategic point in keeping a bored, volatile god confined to Earth.
Handing En Sabah Nur over to the cosmic mercenary fleet would act as one more terrifying safeguard.
-------------
Author's Note:
Do you want to read 25+ Chapters ahead right now?
Stop waiting. Come over to the dark side. We have cookies, advanced chapters, and very, very detailed 'plot.'
patreon.com/
Dark_sym