The heroes and Morningstar reached the great Planet X, a wasteland desert outside its walls where within is an exact replication of our world, with lush fields and suburban mundaneness, while outside the lower castes feast on each other.
“Welcome to fucking… Ugh…” sighed Beatle. “Welcome to uh… My Father’s… I don’t… I don’t even know what to-...” Beatle, who raised his hands to showcase the beauty of this world, would be cut off immediately by Slime Tutorial.
“HOLY SHIT!!! IS THAT GOD ICE CREAM!?!? Ugh! Miguel, that shit IS UH… MAZING…” smiled Slime Tutorial, grabbing his hand. “C’MON!!! TRY IT, DUDE!!!”
“Ah, gee. Alright,” smiled the Aswang, being pulled to the ice cream cart.
“WAIT FOR ME!!!” Lord Marvel followed after.
Myrmex rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she followed. “Gotta… check if those guys would do something dumb as shit… or… dumber as shit… Can’t leave Spongebob, Patrick, and Gary out without Mister Krabs, y’know?” Myrmex followed after.
Hercules looks around. “What the hell happened to my homeworld? This place used to be brighter and much more quaint with Greek infrastructure.”
“Well, Herc,” said the Reaper, staring blankly at the suburbs. “The world considers Earth as its conduit for reality. The way we mortals see this world is exactly how our world’s unanimous way of viewing paradise is. Apparently, that’s just the United States of America’s whitest neighborhood.”
Dark shakes his head. “White people…”
“Dark, you’re Caucasian,” said Askal.
“Yeah. And you’re Chinese, faker.”
“Do NOT start now, man.” Askal rolled her eyes.
Lord Marvel and Slime Tutorial finish entire buckets of ice cream.
“What are you two idiots-!?” Beatle would be stopped by Myrmex’s hand.
“I think we should let them off the hook this time,” said Black Sabbath, seeing that the Pantheons are approaching them.
Sabbath bowed before them. “Hello! I am… Black Sabbath! Heheh!”
They just stared at her with morbid curiosity.
One god, Quetzalcoatl, smiled. “What creature is that thing?” He turns to Beatle and Hercules. “Heracles. Gibborimu El. Are these your pets?” he smiled.
“Ah… No… Mortal friends of ours,” said Beatle. “Mind us not, kindly…” he said, with noticeable annoyance.
Stolen novel; please report.
“What funny-looking creatures,” said Quetzalcoatl, walking away while holding an ice cream cone.
“WHAT THE HELL!?!?” Myrmex asked. “WHAT THE RACIST HELL WAS THAT!?!?”
“They only see the Reaper, Herc, and I. Also, probably Miguel. We’re part gods, spiritually, at least.”
“Gibborimuel?” mocked Dark.
“Doesn’t that mean ‘Warrior of God’ in Hebrew?” asked Askal.
“Holy shit, Emz. It does? I thought it just sounded stupid,” said Dark.
“Yeah, yeah… If Jesus’ name is Emmanuel, which means God is with us, mine means Warrior of God, because… I was originally meant to uh… kill people,” said Beatle, looking away. “My other variants and I decided not to, though. Because we don’t like… rapturing innocent people.” Beatle sighed as he was handed an ice cream cone by the Aswang.
“It’s okay, Beatle,” said the Aswang. “I think your choices were dapper.”
“Fuck off, Furball. Beatle doomed us all,” Dark rolled his eyes.
Suddenly, they met with… Gerard Persuvius, the Caveman hybrid.
“Greetings. Welcome to the homeworld of the gods… Which is just a tourist trap at this point. Hellish World-colonized damned… whatever it is,” sighed Gerard. “Excuses for my language. Alas, would you like some bread?”
The Aswang smiles and nods as he takes some of his bread.
“Jerry!” Beatle hugs Gerard.
“Yes, hello, Uncle Beatle… Alas, I seem to have stepped into some sort of Extraterrestrial Bovine Excrement.”
“You did?” asked the Aswang.
“Alas, that is what you call a ‘Metaphor’, or what they call in your language, ‘I got into some bullshit’ that being getting you guys a ride to safety…” sighed Gerard. “Anywho, I would like to note that you must evade a certain creature soon… They call themselves the Micheads.”
“The what?” asked the Aswang.
“A race of deadly demons who are blind, large, and can hear literally anything that makes even the slightest sound.”
“You see, this city’s center is the Sovereign,” Gerard explained.
“Been there,” said the Reaper.
“Then you have heard that since you attacked back then, they established better security with the creation of these golems… That palace has something called a Hellish Elevator, yet another device that this horrible, awful person in your party created to traverse the Multiverse.” Gerard furthered.
“Guilty!” smirked Morningstar, shrugging.
“At the heart of this city is something that you will fear, and that is Olympus, the Palace of the gods. Ever since Spazura was arrested by Morningstar, well, the Goat established the new ruler of this world, known as the Governor.”
“The Governor?” asked Beatle.
“So, he governs?” asked Lord Marvel. “Sorry, I am just so… hungry…” he said, swallowing another cone.
“Yes. He governs over the entire planet of the literal gods since Morningstar had them colonized.”
“Again! Guilty!” smiled Morningstar.
“So, how do we enter that palace?” asked the Reaper. “And kill those things?”
“Well, you can enter, but killing them is not an option. Gotta do this by the book,” said Beatle.
“Well, both of you are right and less right,” said Gerard. “Those things would kill gods and Demis like you two. They’re designed to eradicate your powers with Demon Blood. They’re powered… with such. So, doing this by the book nor killing those things aren’t options at all. So, we all sneak in.”
“Lame,” said Dark.
Everyone turns to the four main.
“Wait, wait, what?” asked the Aswang, Slime Tutorial, Lord Marvel, and Myrmex.