Chapter 2: The Journey
Beatle sighs, folding the file case on his desk and gently placing it into his drawer, sliding the drawer in through the marbling wooden table. He went on and ate his noodles with his chopsticks. “Pansit. The ultimate symbol of diversity in the Philippines… Something that represents hopefulness and kindness, which is nowadays the least favorite meal at every Filipino party. It shows hope, kindness, equity, autonomy… and love… Now, Filipinos are all gung-ho about their own problems that they fail to remember what the damn meal represents.”
Beatle faces the Aswang and Myrmex, who are just across him, sitting before his desk.
The Aswang bops forward and backward while Myrmex taps her thumb to her other fingers.
“Heh…” said Myrmex. “So, lemme get this straight outta yer fuckin’ mouth… You want us to bring that pen and destroy it in the Hell’s Toilet. Why can’t you just touch it?”
Beatle sighs, pushing the pen away with a chopstick. “Because… I just don’t wanna. And by I don’t ‘wanna’ I mean I don’t want to allow myself to become a monster like Morningstar. Even Messiahs’ spirits can be destroyed and corrupted… turned into Devils.”
“So, you want us to bring this to… where?” asked the Aswang.
Beatle sighs and flicks it with his chopstick, enough for the Aswang to catch it.
“What… Wait! WHAT WHAT-!?!?” The Aswang panicked and nearly transformed.
Myrmex even panicked, just staring at the pen in horror.
“As you can see, you remain unmoved. Uncorrupted. You are the only damned one kind enough to hold it… Not be corrupted by it.”
“I don’t think I should be holding this,” said the Aswang.
“And that is exactly why you, of all people, deserve to hold it,” said Beatle.
“O-Okay…” said the Aswang. “Okay…” The Aswang pockets the pen. “Okay… Will… Will I become-?”
“You can. Just don’t use it,” said Beatle. “It is both a magical object and a weapon. Use it with care, and it will tempt you, but there are times you must use it to survive the journey.”
“Wait, why can’t we just open a portal to there?” asked the Aswang.
“To Hellish World territory? That’s an international incident, kid,” said Beatle. “I’m sorry. A big no. That’d cause a problem for our own people. Your world is a local Earth, and your world will get invaded and killed off the map by the Hellish Council. I suggest you sneak in. You two are basically… well, for lack of a better term, nobodies… to them, at least.”
“So, you want us to leave our world and just… find our way to the Hellish Toilet?” asked the Aswang.
“We’ll guide you to the Hellish World where the Primal Forge stays… Then we part,” said Beatle.
“Okay…” Myrmex gulped.
The Aswangl sighs, closing his eyes, listening to the beats of the heart in his ears.
Meanwhile…
A Knight shrouded in chainmail armor emerged from the darkness. This Knight was a King, as he had worn a crown over his head and had a posture that told of his presence. His broad shoulders were up, his back straightened, and his jawline relaxed. He removes his cowl, revealing nothing but a Caveman with tan skin and a sloping head, but nothing but eyes that felt warming and welcoming.
The Caveman rode his feathered Rex, and kept his pup with fur white as snow near his chest.
He bobbed his torso, back and forth, staring blankly forward. He saw something else, a pattern in the distance that showcased where he was. An entrance to a certain beautiful mall, whereupon he enters, his people will be considered very much sovereign not only by Beatle, but by the entirety of the Multiverse. Say hello to Gerard Persuvius.
Gerard, later on, entered a sort of dark hallway and into a chamber, of which a dark gate opened up, where he was brought to speak with the rest of Humanity. God Emperor stood there at the center surrounded by palaces of these round pod-like chambers, Senators sitting in the thousands with territories expanding to an unknown number. What makes him particularly special is that most of these senators own millions of worlds. Meanwhile, Unter only owns one city, and mortals argue and bicker among this large pillar of chattering leaders while he stays silent. Shimmering lights illuminated the pillar, and at its purest center sat the God Emperor, who silently watched them all. God Emperor, in a moment that immediately shocked Gerard, turned to him, and speaking with eyes telling of a scold of sorts.
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
Gerard thinks to himself, “Shit… She knows I’m late, huh?”
God Emperor just gave a soft sigh and chuckled a bit. She raised her fist, and all went silent.
Next to Gerard was his Rex, pup, and right-hand woman, Robin, the Daughter of the Steward Tribe of Akteon. God Emperor spoke as Robin patted Gerard’s shoulder to comfort him.
“Lord Persuvius,” she spoke, and everyone turned to the pillar of Akteon of Earth-1. The world of the current Beatle.
Gerard stood up with humility and confidence. They began mumbling, so Gerard wiggled the wire that caused a loud ring, and all went silent. He tapped the mic’s head twice and spoke. “Yes, God Emperor?”
“Since you are so soon, I hope to ask you first regarding this briefing. What is this league or fellowship you speak of?” asked God Emperor.
“Permission to answer?” Gerard asked, and she nodded. “I heard there was this team of extraordinary individuals who have strengths that would allow them to deliver this trident. I think it is genius.”
“Don’t be absurd!” spoke one senator from the Athena Systems, coming forward along with her pod. ”Listen, Savage! I am from the Bug Worlds! And I think your callous disregard of the fact that Superheroes must register a foulness on your part!”
God Emperor sighed and facepalmed.
“I SAY YOU SHUT UP, LORD PERSUVIUS!!!” yelled the Senator, a gigantic butterfly. “The Black Spiral had colonized a portion of our own Multiverse, and we damn deserve a break from all that. I am weary from this voting. Entrusting a group of Superheroes knowing how the Black Spiral is led by them. We cannot be led by corrupt individuals just as we were!”
“Spare me the defense of political butterflies. In all accounts to this meeting, I wouldn’t be surprised that growing up, you once believed in the ideology of liberty and peace, and when even a corrupt leader decided to claim to do good, you would join them because it benefits someone like you. A marginalized speck as you claim to be.”
“THE BUGS ARE INDEED MARGINALIZED BY YOU HUMANS!!! So are Aswangs!”
“This nation stands for equity. I myself stand for peace and equity, since I am a Caveman.”
“You’re a fuckin’ Human then, hm!?”
“I am half Human and half Caveman, but just because I align politically different from the Consul of Liberalism, does not make me any more marginalized than you. I belong to a marginalized clan, friend. Extremism poisons us just as anyone would.”
“Oh, please! You’re a Goddamned Thirdie!”
The senators gasp and speak to each other.
“You Goddamned Thirdie!”
“Senator Fly Fly, do not accuse people of being a member of the Third Reich,” said God Emperor.
“With all due respect. This motherfucker is against the Consul of Liberty.”
“We have two consuls for a reason. Liberalism and Conservatism must be balanced as one because you need each other. A critique that hints at an accusation of absolutes is only done by the Black Spiral or even the Pentagram. Please do not note extremism in this Congress,” said God Emperor.
Senator Fly Fly scoffs and retreats back into his podium.
“The Aswang King is protecting the ENTIRE Multiverse, and you dare resort to childish bickering. He would sacrifice an arm and a leg for this damned government and even more for this Multiverse, so DO NOT DARE mock this establishment with your primitive urge,” growled God Emperor, as she fixed her hair. “My father, the Aswang King, would be very disappointed in you if he were here right now. Do not disrespect this demagoguery. Continue.”
Meanwhile…
Myrmex taps the sides of her temple. She taps with her fingers, each sporting long, colored nails.
Myrmex met up with Beatle, who was already speaking with the Aswang.
“Oh. Myrmex. Hey,” said the Aswang. “Beatle was just telling me about the fact that we have a new guide while the others handle the incoming war.”
Beatle sighs and opens the door, where the Aswang immediately averted his eyes out of pure primal fear, despite knowing who this is
Meanwhile, Myrmex looked with horror.
“It never tires me with how your kind confuses kindness with politeness. Then again, half of my own flesh is shared with it. Alas, I grew up in a culture of wealth and power. Daddy, dear as he was, was Caucasian. The most British bastard I met,” smirked Morningstar, while she ate some blood sausage and haggis with a side of cheese curds. Morningstar gleefully sliced the curds and made cubes out of them, turning those edges into cubes. She only ate things rigid after all. It makes sense. So, she grabs another haggis and makes sure it is molded into something cube-shaped as well. She taps her fingers, grossed out by the sticky notes in her flesh, and wipes them off with a napkin, meticulously and precisely. “I grew up living and breathing as you kids were, but then one day, when I was sitting in the dark of my own bedroom in Manila, I heard a gun cock so loudly that it shivered the floorboards. I feared, so I went downstairs to see what Mum and Dad were doing. I had to watch a Congressman and his bounty of self-proclaimed criminals blow up the faces of my parents, their siblings, my grandparents, and my siblings and cousins. All it took was a pistol. Soon, his goons ran out of bullets, and then in my family kept fighting. They grabbed his hammer and… well… I watched it all. And I starved. They burned down the mansion and blew it up using a match and some insecticide. Those bloody crafty bastards, I heard them cackling while I stayed beneath the crumbs of my own home. I got hungry. Cut them open like a fat lamb and dreaded every bite. The saddest part was that I enjoyed it. I met Miguel. Oh, how I loved Miguel. Soon… we fell in love. Oh, so much love. Danced in karaoke night and smelled like each other under the morning dew. We built everything together, helped him fund his kind donations to humanity, and stood by him despite all the death threats and cruelty. Then he kissed some old college lass, and I had to watch him be ripped from my arms and into her lips. I fought her. Burned the star pillow he kept, and half of it landed on my face. The other half on his chest. Now he thinks he is some sort of Superhero Jesus figure, but I see through his bullshit. He’s hurting, just as I am.” Morningstar looks at Beatle’s insignia, the star on his chest, and turns to him. “Bloody fucking morning to ya, love!”