The Chosen One // Angel Breaker

Angel Breaker's presence was an exquisite blend of white beauty and red evil, captivating all who dared to witness her malevolence. Her sword sat on the ground and oozed a red fog that settled on the trio and healed them. While the Manhunter's armour remained damaged, Angel Breaker's injuries and bruises turned as white as snow. The bruises and cuts on the purple man's lip dissipated. Nonexistent, as if the efforts of the superheroes had never happened.

Her lips curled into a devious smile.

"I see. So this is him. An honour, indeed," Angel Breaker pronounced.

"And you are…?" Aaron pretended to be ignorant.

"Fufu." Angel Breaker crossed her legs and cupped her cheek, elbow on the arm rest. "We are not ignorant. We know who you are and you know who we are. We know you were watching the battle. Aaron Reigner." His name rolled off her tongue seductively.

"I saw you," the Manhunter clarified. "Seated behind that desk. Hiding. Watching. My helmet was able to identify you from our database, through the steel."

Crimson-plated suit embossed with intricate circuit-like patterns, the armour was a technological marvel. Cracked and spliced but functioning. The hood and helmet defined his intimidating power, a testament to the indomitable spirit that fueled his quest.

"Why are you on my couch then?" Aaron asked flatly. Intimidating as they were, logically speaking, if they wanted to kill him, they would have done so.

His ears flickered at the sound of his daughter sleeping.

He corrected himself: they would have tried.

"Why do you think?" The third individual chuckled, arm on Chloe's waist. A nauseating chill went down Aaron's spine. His mouth exposed and in a crooked smile, the male added, "I am sure you of all people can guess."

Aaron stood silent. His gaze went up and down. "You must be Prometheus."

The description fit. The black battle suit, the purple visor, and the arrogance. His lips twitched in surprise. Bullseye.

"So you know me. Impressive. Most impressive," Prometheus acknowledged, nodding. "The legends are true then."

Aaron didn't blink.

The Manhunter rose. Aaron tensed. Then, the Manhunter fell to one knee, an arm extended. "O Chosen One, I have been searching for you. Now, you are here."

The Chosen One. The central piece to their operation. The mystery even the World's Greatest Detective couldn't solve…

…was him?

"Get to it," Aaron spat venomously. Seeing Chloe in Promtheus' lap, he couldn't care less about the revelation. It was an insignificant gust in the hurricane of fury surging in his head. "And put Chloe on the sofa. Otherwise, you die."

His intent to kill must have gone through because Prometheus got up to put the little girl on the sofa chair in a flash. He retreated next to the Manhunter in the same kneeling position. His actions were strangely complacent. Almost…fearful.

The fact that the Manhunter called him the Chosen One finally settled into place. He, Aaron Reigner, was the Chosen One.

What did that mean?

For one, judging by Prometheus' obedience, the Manhunter's sign of respect, and Angel Breaker's fuck-me eyes, he assumed there was a degree of uncontested authority. He had never talked to these villains before in his life yet their bodies projected unwavering awe and respect. He thought perhaps Angel Breaker would be less subservient but even she joined her compatriots in their kneeling. Doing something so reverent in the middle of his living room was…odd. Jarring. As a side note, he noticed the extra space they were using to kneel.

'Where the fuck did they put my living room table…?'

He exhaled, controlling his temper. His days were growing larger than life by the hour, it seemed. He hated it. They better not have shattered that table. It was the first thing he had gotten for his apartment.

"Explain," Aaron ordered, arms crossed, piercing grey eyes pressing down on their shoulders like boulders.

"You are the Chosen One, Aaron Reigner." The Manhunter announced it like it explained everything. It didn't. "I, the Manhunter, have been searching for you for trillions of years, waiting for your arrival."

"Trillions of years?" Aaron wanted to scoff. Instead, his brows furrowed. He had seen this caricature of a man defeat hoards upon hoards of superheroes and villains. The best that Gotham had to serve. He swatted them like flies. Given his abilities, his superiority, and the begrudging respect Aaron had for him, he accepted his words. "I see. And you?" He gestured at Prometheus. For the past couple hours, it was hammered into his brain that this motherfucker was a threat to the Justice League. No, that he had once defeated the Justice League through careful, meticulous, and cruel planning.

Prometheus was a monster. A threat. A super villain.

Aaron's gaze awaited his answer like a living lie detector. Swallowing, Prometheus answered, "I joined after Angel Breaker told me of your arrival. It was foretold that you descended and that you would shape the world."

"You're not a magician, you're a scientist," Aaron pointed out. "Why believe it?"

A smile rolled across Prometheus, impressed but not shocked by his knowledge. "Because I constructed a device capable of seeing into the future. I used it in hopes it would help me topple the Justice League. Instead, I saw you." His voice shook. "I saw something I wasn't supposed to see."

Aaron squinted, then swept his gaze over to Angel Breaker. He knew her story. She proudly told it in the cavern, in the Tournament of 100. Her black single-edged sword, the Angel Breaker, was a symbiote that told her of the inevitable future; stories and whispers of the destruction of the world and its saviour. From then on, Angel Breaker dedicated her life to the search of said saviour–the Chosen One. Her head pointed up at him, smirking, she anticipated he would ask her something.

He didn't.

He watched her behead person after person. Man after man. Woman after woman. Frankly, he wanted to chop her head off too. He wanted her to experience the suffering she bestowed upon the innocents. A taste of the fear, the agony, the constant resurrections, the bloody duel with Cassandra. He wanted her to feel it all. He wanted revenge.

In the end, he stayed his hand because Chloe was still sleeping. He didn't want to wake her up to a rolling head.

"Then tell me, Prometheus, what is my role? How do I shape the Earth?"

Watching Angel Breaker's mouth part in dismay was liberating. Prometheus was suspiciously ecstatic, perhaps due to being picked over Angel Breaker.

"The Chosen One possesses the power to do anything," Prometheus said. "You see something, you can do it. No matter the power, no matter the difficulty, you can do it with ease."

"My Chosen One," Angel Breaker's melodious voice rang, "may I–"

"Shut up." Aaron sneered. "I don't want your mouth to open unless I want it open."

She froze, white eyes wide, the ruby gem adorned on her forehead losing its colour. "Yes, My–"

"I am not going to repeat myself."

Angel Breaker panicked and bowed her head down. Ordering the strong, powerful woman was exhilarating. He wanted to grind his foot into her face and make her feel the terror she gave the people of Gotham. All of a sudden, he remembered the injuries on the Robins: Daxton and Andre. Riko and Izzy. Their sorrows, their crippling injuries, the time he spent nursing them. It came rushing like an icy white blizzard.

His expression continued to show nothing. He stared at Angel Breaker and contemplated her fate for the second time. He glanced at Chloe, tempered himself, and then urged the Manhunter to further elaborate on his origins.

"I am a spirit possessing the body of Mark Shaw. I took command of Leviathan, became one with their ideologies, and met Angel Breaker. She, like me, had a purpose. To meet you, the Chosen One."

"A spirit?" Aaron wanted to ask if he meant it like a ghost spirit or a divine spirit, because those were distinctions with immense implications. The former hinted at something metahuman while the latter insinuated a primordial cosmic force–from insignificant to significant.

"An emissary of the great one. The greatest one. The Light. The Hand. Yahweh. Allah. The One Above All. The Presence. The Writer." The Manhunter's list stirred his heart, his soul. Those terms, those titles, it was like they were at the tip of his tongue and ready to be breathed into the world. "I am much like the Spectre, the Spirit of Vengeance, except I have existed long before life itself. I have seen the multiverse wither away and be reborn, all in hopes of meeting you."

"That doesn't answer my question," Aaron countered. "Why did you do all this? Why create a massive machine to steal the Earth's metahuman powers? Why forge Element X?"

"To find you, My Chosen One." Manhunter's inflexion was too respectful for his liking. Too strong with conviction. "My essence, my core, is made of pure Element X. It is how I manifest into bodies. It is how I maintain my spiritual form. However, as I have gone from multiverse to multiverse, timeline to timeline, my core has become corrupted. Weakened. Many times, I have gone astray. It is why I come before you weaker than a homo sapien. Humbled and ashamed."

The Manhunter continued with a tenderness unbecoming of him. "It is my greatest shame. Many times, I have been reborn. Many times, I have fallen in love. Fallen into despair. Fallen into hate. I have had sons and daughters, brothers and sisters, husbands and wives. I have seen much."

"Daughters, huh?" Aaron closed his eyes for a moment. He could feel the emotion oozing off of him. He wasn't lying. Behind that mask, there was torment and joy. Conflict and sorrow.

"I have little left in me. I just want it to be over. I want it to end. My purpose, my life, my legacy…it is done. Nothing is left in me except a hollow voice telling me to serve you. I resorted to extreme lengths because otherwise I would not have been able to bless you with your complete abilities in time. The abilities of the cosmic construct."

Complete abilities? Cosmic construct? The Manhunter was dead serious. He was implying that Aaron had powers beyond what he had now–beyond mere hypnosis.

"It is why you are currently undetectable. Your powers are great but suppressed. Out of this world and unique. It is not metahuman in nature, it is primordial. Element X on its own cannot hope to find you. Omniscience cannot find you. But I can. Only me, your other half. Fully realized with my soul, the Chosen One–you, Aaron Reigner–will become compatible with all of reality." Everything was falling into place. His erratic powers, his natural athleticism, his detective skills, the puzzle that was Aaron Reigner's life suddenly made sense. "Every moment of every reality, every crisis, every rebirth, every flashpoint, has led to this moment. I have spent every waking moment of my life to meet you; to, at last, feed you what you need to balance the omniverse."

The kneeling trio, the kneeling villains, the ultimate expression of power in his eyes, accepted his position. His authority. His superiority.

"Are you asking me to kill you?" Aaron asked.

"Yes." The Manhunter said it without a nanosecond of hesitation. "I have made my mistakes. I have completed my life. I will sacrifice my life for the sake of fulfilling your destiny." The Manhunter's fist clenched. The great vigour and calmness he exhibited from the first time he laid eyes on him was gone. He was vulnerable. He sought death.

Aaron ripped his gaze from the fallen Leviathan. "Prometheus," he called out, "how about you?"

Promtheus glowed. "I told you that I live to serve you. After seeing your potential–"

"My potential. Huh. I see." Aaron bobbed his head, nodding gingerly and frowning slightly. Cassandra had taught Aaron a lot about reading people. He was already adept at it but with her chunks of advice he gained a deeper understanding of the human psyche; of intentions, lies, and half-truths. The gears turned in his head. "I see. I see…Angel Breaker?"

The woman practically leapt at the mention of her name and nearly broke her kneeling position. "Yes, My Chosen One!?"

"You will do everything I ask, correct?"

Prometheus' lips flattened, puzzled as Angel Breaker nodded vehemently. For all her faults, she was loyal and dedicated. That was to be admired, Aaron thought.

"Absorb him."

Two words, a mere whisper of authority, yet Angel Breaker rose up to her feet, summoned her sleek black weapon from thin air, and shoved her blade down Prometheus' spine. An ugly, horrific scream erupted from Prometheus.

"W-what are you–" Prometheus' throat was stuck. He couldn't speak. He couldn't move. His body began to fade away into tiny particles of purple. First from his shoulders–

"You think I'm stupid? I know you. I know your psychological profile. You are a man who has no care for things like prophecies and magic, organizations and authority. You care for results. You're like Batman. Put simply, you saw what I could do with that machine of yours, learned what would happen when Manhunter and I joined together, and thought you could steal it for yourself."

–then his legs. Slow and excruciating, the flecks of purple were sucked by the sword like a black hole. Inch by inch, piece by piece, until the totality of his body dissolved into the Angel Breaker.

"Plus, I saw the mark on her face. You hurt Chloe. You're lucky I didn't kill you earlier."

The very essence of Prometheus was drawn into the ethereal depths of the Angel Breaker. The pulsating blade, infused with ancient and otherworldly power, bound the formidable human within the confines of the Nth metal.

As the glowing energy dissipated, leaving an eerie calm in its wake, the once-proud Prometheus appeared as a faint, incorporeal silhouette within the sleek black blade. His essence seemed trapped and confined to a spectral existence, forever at the mercy of Angel Breaker's will.

"Was that to your satisfaction, My Chosen One?" Angel Broke broke the temporary silence with a thrilled smile. His fury sated temporarily, he nodded.

The horrific gasps of desperation lingered in the sword for a second longer. Then…Prometheus was no more.

"Good work," Aaron praised. Oddly enough, there was no turmoil inside him. No regret over what happened. He knocked out Chloe. He hurt her. That was too great a crime to spare. "Maybe you do have a place beside me after all."

The woman glowed and instantly fell to one knee. "As you say, Chosen One."

There was one remaining tread left. This time, his heart pulsed with emotion. This man, this Manhunter, this spirit. He had sensed a connection with him on TV. So this was why…

"What will happen to you?" Aaron questioned. "After our…union?"

"Nothing." The Manhunter had remained rooted in his submission. "There is nothing for me to do but…disappear."

"Didn't you say you lived your life as a person? You had a family. Isn't there heaven for you?"

"Not for me, no."

Aaron thought he was seeing a reflection of himself. A version of himself who after working for decades died meaninglessly. No family, no friends, no love, and no hope. He was going to live alone and die alone.

"One last question: how was I born? Who are my parents?"

"I don't know. Perhaps you were merely shaped into the shape of a human, perhaps your female carrier was blessed. I could not say. In the hours before our arrival here, I had the heretic Prometheus do some research. Like with many orphans in Gotham, there was no connection. My apologies."

His loyalty was stout and true. His compassion was genuine. He cared for him in his own way.

Aaron stepped up. He extended an arm. "Give me a portion of your soul. Do not make me whole."

"A…a portion?" The Manhunter stared up at him, mask unable to hide his confusion. "Why?"

"If I absorb you, I will be omnipotent, right?"

"It would take time and discipline. However, at the end of your journey, yes. You would be infinitely close to omnipotence. You can be the greatest ruler of the cosmos. Every man and woman will worship the ground you stand on. I am sure of it."

Infinitely close to omnipotent…the Chosen One…

Aaron considered the implications. His new reality. His surroundings, his power, his life. He remembered his times with the Robins, his sessions with Hadiyah and Jaina, his relationship with Tanya and Tam, his university days…

Cassandra. Chloe.

Cold, harsh reality had sunk its teeth into his neck so many times yet no matter the vile he faced he always came out on top. He made bad choices, good choices, and morally grey choices. Oftentimes, he veered from the path of the hero. Nevertheless, he grew from the coffee-addicted Aaron Reigner that met Cassandra Cain in the dumpster. He had become a better person.

Of course, he had ordered Prometheus' execution and that would in retrospect weigh on his mind. But so would his daughter. So would killing a spirit so broken and decrepit. His newfound heart was spurred with empathy for strangers and family alike.

"But you'll die," Aaron pointed out. "I don't need that in my conscience."

"If I may be so bold–"

"Look." Aaron dropped all pretence, his serious, deadpan expression folding into relaxation. "Do you know what post-nut clarity is?"

The sudden change in topic caught even the trillion year old Manhunter off-guard.

"...yes."

"Then you know there's only so much sex in the world. It's great, don't get me wrong. I love to spend a week destroying cunts but…there has to be a limit. Someday, you have to grow up. You have to choose. You have to have balance." The Manhunter radiated with perplexity. Incomprehension. Sighing, Aaron switched his strategy. "Have you ever played Zelda? Or Smash Bros? Have you drunk highly caffeinated coffee with heaps of sugar? I'm not going to lie, that stuff can be better than getting a blowjob."

The Manhunter clearly didn't expect him to make such a…casual, easy-going speech. That was the fundamental problem with this Chosen One business. Aaron Reigner was a chill, laid-back guy who desired mediocrity. To his core, as much as had grown and improved himself, he was a normal citizen of Gotham. He would never be a superhero nor would he ever be a cosmic ruler.

The Manhunter simply couldn't accept it.

"You will also possess the power to bring the world peace–"

"What am I going to do? End world hunger? The Justice League already has that on lock. Studies say that in a decade there's going to be no world hunger because of them. You have Superman, Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, and Aquaman, the actual ruler of the seas, working as a group to solve these issues. And they're doing it well. Sickness? Cancer? I'm pretty sure Lex Luthor has already solved that. Knowing him, when he runs for President again, he's going to use that as his primary campaign push."

The Manhunter stilled, his dotted blue eyes aimed at Aaron Reigner, gobsmacked.

"And who knows if what I do will be the right thing anyway. I might become some fascist dipshit or a white supremacist and the Justice League will have to come and stop me. Every way you slice, every angle you go about it, there's no place for the Chosen One." The universe seemed to resonate with his words. It was a closing, a conclusion, the moral lesson of his mediocre life. Not everything or everybody needed to be special or some kind of multiversal entity of unprecedented proportions. A person never forgotten in history for their mark. Sometimes, it was okay to be a fading footstep in the unending blizzard of reality. It was okay to want simple things, like companionship, a daughter, a wife–a family. "Not anymore. The grandiose dreams of cosmic change…besides the fact that it has never worked, I just don't have it in me. If there's one thing I want in my life, it's peace and security in Gotham. That's it. Just Gotham."

"..."

Aaron reassured him with a smile. "You can rest easy. I'll send you to your family. It's okay. I'm sure deep inside, you want to see them again. You've done some shitty stuff, I know. But you're no Prometheus. I could tell with a single glance that that guy was beyond saving. But you? I don't know your real name or if you even have one but I can tell you're salvageable."

Aaron extended a pinkie.

"Let me help you."

The Manhunter, for the first time, looked away. An aura engulfed him, formed of uncertainty and loss. After a while of thinking, the Manhunter exhaled. "For so long I wondered…why you? Why were you special? Why were you and I so different? Why were you the one chosen and not me? I…I wanted someone to tell me…why was I even born? Why on Earth did I experience so much? I understand now."

Like a crescendo, his voice grew with resolve. Rather than robotic and glitchy, rather than submissive and unreliable, the Manhunter was eloquent and composed. "You are the Chosen One. You can do anything as long as your mind wills it."

His red plated pinkie touched Aaron's.

"I accept."

His final words were the ending to a storm inside Aaron. He felt full. Complete. Something clicked in his soul and…

A light enveloped the Manhunter.

…then he was gone.

Aaron exhaled. His muscles surged with newfound power. His eyes darted from place to place.

Efficient. He felt exponentially more efficient. His movements were clean like he was drifting through space. With a moment of focus, time slowed down and he could see the particles in the air.

The Manhunter…he was in heaven. He could sense it. In fact, he could envision it and see it. Up in the sky, through the Orrery of Worlds, past the Bleed, past the Speed Force wall, past Wonderworld, within the Sphere of the Gods, was Heaven. The Secondary Outer Realm was a silver light, the home of the angels and creatures worthy of its residence.

Hopefully the Manhunter, whatever his real name was, would be happy.

"Ugh…" His head spliced with pain and he massaged his forehead. He opened an eye to see Angel Breaker etched with concern. He bit back the pain and inhaled. "Now…you."

Angel Breaker nodded happily.

"Speak."

As if a lock had been suppressing her inner feelings, Angel Breaker declared, "Now that you are nearly complete, we must tend to the rituals." He could sense the build-up in her mouth. The saliva, the slobber–the unsheathed desire inside her. "Only one woman can take your seed. Me. You may try, you may abuse, you may flood their wombs with your sperm, but unless the woman is chosen by you they will never carry your child. Except me, the Chosen Bride. We must bathe in the pits of Lazarus Island and consummate. Together."

Aaron pretended not to be taken aback by her declaration. Was that why despite creampieing woman after woman, they wouldn't get pregnant? Well…that explained a lot. It also erased the chances of someone using his sperm for their own intentions.

"And you claim that is your role?"

"Yes. That is my role. I am the Chosen Bride. The blade whispered it to me. Looking at your glorious figure, I now know it to be true. You are the Chosen One. My Chosen One. The League of Assassins were built for this reason. Ra's al Ghul gained wealth, power and might for the day a true heir would arrive. You."

His mouth twitched. "Are you a virgin?"

An immense amount of guilt coloured her and she pointed her head down. "No, my Chosen. I am not. B-but," she raised her head, eyes depraved, "I sacrificed my virginity in servitude to you! I pumped up my dick sucking lips just for you! All for you! My entire life, from the time I was homeless and lost, was to meet you! The one who reigns over all!"

For him? She inflicted trauma to innocents, nearly crippled the Robins, bruised and burned Cassandra…

All because of him?

His heart had been bleeding with empathy for the Manhunter. But Prometheus? Angel Breaker? These two were out of their minds. Absolutely fucked in the head.

And he hated himself for hesitating on punishing her.

If this had been Aaron before he met Cassandra, he would have done unspeakable things to her. To this woman who was clearly not well in the head. To this woman who had committed terrible, horrific crimes right in front of him.

Perhaps it was the short insight into her origins or her fiendish, dark beauty. Her noticeably shaped breasts and curves. He wouldn't have been surprised if the Signal, Duke Thomas, had been distracted by her body during their battle. Over the past weeks, Aaron had come to recognize that women were a weakness of his. A weakness he needed to overcome.

He hardened his resolve. His expression turned as blank as a stone. Regardless of the empathy he might have felt, Angel Breaker needed to be punished. Someone needed to act as jury and executioner.

"Excuses," Aaron retorted. "Pathetic excuses. That is all I hear. Do you understand? Do you know where I am coming from?"

"Y-yes, I know it sounds…blasphemous. I…forgiveness, My Chosen One…forgiveness…"

"What will you do to make up for it?"

Her form-fitting, midnight-black bodysuit accentuated every delicate curve and contour on her. Her flawless porcelain skin seemingly amplified her allure. Her eyes of endless white and weakness trembled.

"Everything! Anything!" Angel Breaker exclaimed. "Please! I would climb the mountains of–"

"Go to my room, close the door, strip, and stay there. I will punish you when I return." He turned. She tensed up and ran to his room on four legs. Like an animal, the door slammed shut behind her.

Now he was alone in the living room, alongside a sleeping Chloe. He approached the tiny blonde and poked her on the cheek. She stirred. Her eyes fluttered open.

"Mr. Aaron…?"

There was nothing in those eyes of hers except confusion. Good.

"Awake, sleepy head?" Aaron smiled. "Good to see you."

"Are you okay?" Chloe asked, expression scrunched. "I had a really bad dream where some strangers broke into our home, took you, and slapped me in the face…it was so scary."

He saw the red mark on her cheek. A handprint. He suppressed his wrath and placed a hand on her shoulder. "It was just a dream."

"And then…" Chloe gulped lazily, eyes half-open. "...some other people broke in and hit me. A purple guy. My shoulder hurts…"

Prometheus. Yeah, fuck him. Aaron felt justified murdering him.

"Yeah, dreams can sometimes feel eerily real," Aaron consoled. "You're okay though. Actually, I need to go to work right now so I need to drop you off at Claire's place. It won't be long, maybe three or four hours. Okay?"

"Okay." Chloe yawned. "Claire is fun."

"She is, isn't she?"

He held hands with her as they went to the second floor and knocked on their informal babysitter's door. A minute passed and the young college woman in shorts and a loose purple shirt. Her crystal blue eyes were surprisingly dim.

"Hey…" Claire greeted, throwing a lazy hand up. "Is, uh, something up?" She yawned.

"Can you take care of Chloe for the day? I'll pay you double."

"Double…?" Claire crunched the numbers, brows furrowed. "So like…six hundred?"

"Six grand," he corrected.

"For the entire day…?" All of a sudden, she blinked to life. "Six grand for twelve hours? Holy…uh, s-sure. I mean, I'm feeling weak right now, but…" Claire glanced down at the nine-year-old. She faked a laugh. "H-ha! Hahaha! It can't be that hard!"

"You alright?" Aaron asked, squinting. Her muscles were unexpectedly brittle, like all the strength had been taken from her.

The edges of her eyes wrinkled and she almost groaned. "It's like my powers–I mean, my, uh, er…"

Aaron blinked. He and Chloe exchanged looks. "Powers?" Chloe repeated.

"My educational prowess!" Claire corrected in an over the top shout. "It has, uh, weakened. I'm failing classes and missing assignments, b-but don't worry! I got it!" Claire yanked Chloe to her side and smiled. "Don't worry about your little girl either. I got her too!"

Aaron eyed her skeptically. "Uh-huh."

Yep, he was shelving that into his library of mysteries for later.

***

A complexion that was seemingly bleached white, snow-white hair tousled past her shoulders, heart-bowed red lips, D-cup breasts topped with perky nipples, and eyes devoid of pupils yet swimming in emotion. Opening the door, he could sense her tense up.

Seated on the bed, arms on her knees, downcast and betrothed to her punishment. She was like a canvass with endless potential. Flawless, unmarred, and gorgeous in every feminine way. Aaron walked in with purpose he had never felt before. Angel Breaker. What an ironic name, because today he was going to break her in ways she couldn't even imagine.

"Talia al Ghul was your master, no?" Aaron questioned.

"Yes, My Chosen."

He sensed the hatred in her undertone. The displeasure. Why was he bringing her up, Angel Breaker asked herself. She didn't figure out that it was her weakness, her insecurities, that he was counting on. "Then she will be the one who will consummate with me," Aaron declared.

"W-what–"

The horror, the fear, it was what she deserved.

"Silence. Allow me to clarify: both you and her will serve me together, as one. Do you understand? As prior leaders, as respected members of the League of Shadows, as equals, you will do whatever I ask. The League will do whatever I ask."

"O-of course," Angel Breaker said, managing to regain her confidence, "it is the prophecy–"

"The prophecy you received was incomplete. I will use whichever woman I please when the time for the ritual comes."

He was making shit up. He had no idea what this prophecy was or how the ritual was conducted. He assumed it was sex in a pool of sacred water as she vaguely alluded to. Hopefully it wouldn't get more complicated than that.

Angel Breaker bowed her head. "Yes, Chosen One."

Aaron stepped onto the bed. His weight nearly forced her gaze upwards but she remained steadfast in lowering her gaze, like a faithful woman of religion. The slit peeking from between her legs tempted him to fuck her right then and there.

"Unzip my pants," Aaron ordered. "With your teeth."

No food, no water, no sleep, no rest. The past day had been horrific. In part due to wanting revenge and in part due to Angel Breaker's crimes, he wanted–no, needed sex. He needed to fuck someone to relieve the tension in his muscles.

Because of his union with the Manhunter, he actually felt refreshed. Physically speaking, he was better than ever. It was the psychological part that was bugging him.

Angel Breaker was perfect for itching that bug. She tentatively shifted forward and bit the zipper of his pants, pulling it down. After that, she bit the button and attempted to unbind it. She failed. She continued to fail. Slowly, she began to panic.

He peered down at her, unimpressed. "You said you did all that training for me…yet you can't do a simple unbutton with your teeth?"

"M-my sincerest apologies! I-I will–"

Angel Breaker grew desperate. She went faster and faster, failing and failing, until Aaron decided he was satisfied. "Use your hands, bitch."

Angel Breaker didn't reply and went straight to unbuttoning his pants. The lump inside his boxers caught her so off-guard that she froze. Her long white fingers shook in anticipation.

"Take my pants off, then my boxers." Aaron put his arms across his chest. "Now."

She was like a servant, dragging his pants down while staring down at the mattress. He refused to help her, refused to kick his pants off, so she had to carefully slide his pants underneath his feet. It was slow and tedious but she was able to make it happen.

His boxers remained. Gulping, her fingers lifted the waistband and in a fell swoop pulled it down.

He should have taken a picture of her reaction.

His flaccid cock strained against his boxers and then–

Thwap!

–slapped her chin and settled on top of her head. Angel Breaker went agape, goggle-eyed, and befuddled. He could see it in her eyes: the eradication of doubt and misery. Obedience filled her soul as she sucked in the stench of his cock. Tilting her head up, she gasped.

"T-the Chosen…Cock…the Chosen cock! Cock!"

Aaron could barely see her underneath the mass of his meat. "Do you now understand?"

"Yes…yes…yes, yes!" Angel Breaker salivated. Aaron felt disgusted seeing it fall down on his bed. "I could never have readied myself for you! For your cock! I could have spent a million years and never met a cock that matched yours!"

"Clean your nasty saliva up, whore."

Angel Breaker panicked and ducked down to wipe her spit. His shaft fell back on his thigh with a resounding clap. He waited.

A kiss was planted on his feet. Aaron glanced down to see her ass raised high and her face down low. Like a lowly insect, Angel Breaker made her way up with his kisses. The white hair gradually rose from his ankles, calves, thighs, and then…

"The Chosen cock." He gave his cockhead a juicy kiss. "Cock…the greatest cock…the biggest cock…" She gently picked it up with her two hands and placed it over her head like it had originally had been, slanging down her white hair. Her nose jammed itself in his ballsack.

"The Chosen balls." Her breath painted his sack with heat. Her lips kissed his left testicle, then his right. "So big…so massive…so many children…millions…billions."

Her palms lifted the bottom of his large balls to push them closer to her nose. She didn't just want to taste him, she wanted to smell him till she was drowning.

"So heavy," Angel Breaker muttered. "So good." On instinct, her cold wet tongue licked it bottom to top. It was rough and wetted his sack dutifully. A tingle went up his spine and his shaft started pumping with blood. "You're so hung…so well-hung…like a horse–no, bigger. The biggest. Mmm…"

A rush of arousal spiralled down. Her low, sultry worshipping was irresistible. Her appraisal on his size was addicting. His instincts screamed at him to rail her, to spring out a monstrous erection and demonstrate his skills.

"Am I doing well, My Chosen One?" Angel Breaker asked. Her luscious, provoking praise did not stop nor did her licking session with his balls. "Such fat, fertile balls of sperm. Mmmmh! Mmm! Mwah!" She gave his left testicle a large, delicious kiss. Like she had touched a critical point, his shaft twitched and pulsated powerfully, lifting from her head for an instant. "Mwah! The Chosen cock is rising…!"

Corny ass bitch. Did she think worshipping him would erase her wrong doings? He really needed to teach her a lesson.

"You think getting me hard is something to be praised for? You're naked. You're exposed. Your beauty alone should have been sufficient."

"Y-yes, of course." Booted like a robot, she started to make out with his nutsack. Long, deep kisses on the sensitive orbs and the leathery pouch. Every inch was smooched by her tender lips. "I–mwah!–apologize–mwah!–for–smooch!–my lack–mwah!–of beauty! Mwah! Mmmmh!"

In reality, Angel Breaker was stunning. Sensually figured in an hourglass way, breasts bountiful with sleek thighs and hips. The sensation of her lips were soft and fascinating. A lovely tingle for his most precious, most sensitive family jewels.

On her head, lazily hanging with her hair, his dick shifted. A stiffness took hold of Angel Breaker even as she continued to kiss his balls. Anticipation. Excitement.

Her destiny was here.

Angel Breaker exhaled and panted as he hardened. A slow process of uncontrollable proportions that she could not witness for herself. Growing, thickening, pulsating above her…

Angel Breaker didn't stop kissing his balls despite feeling the weight lift off her. Her role was to serve, not look.

That was until Aaron ordered her to.

"Look up."

Strings of her spit connected with his sack as she did. Pulling away, glancing up…

Heart-shaped pupils formed in her eyes.

Stretched far past her peripheral, taking up a hulk of her vision, was Aaron Reigner's full erection. Energetic, veins throbbing, and pre-cum pouring down her backside.

"Touch it."

Her hands wrapped around it as if reaching for the heavens. A little gasp left her. It was a thickness she couldn't handle. A heat she couldn't help but feel and take comfort in, melting her concerns and comforting her expectations.

A shy stroke. A weak pump.

Aaron's cock throbbed powerfully. "What the fuck is this? Where is your so-called training?"

"It's as long as my arm…" Angel Breaker noted, perhaps going delusional. He was hung but he wasn't THAT hung. "It's…so…much…"

"You knew your task was to serve me. A difficult task, mind you. What did you assume?" Aaron asked irritably.

No response. Her pumps became faster. Two hands stacked on each other, taking their time as they went up and down. Her eyes tried following but couldn't as his tip escaped the limits of her gaze.

Goosebumps overwhelmed her. His precum smeared her back and her pussy was as damp as the caverns of Gotham. All of a sudden, Angel Breaker swelled with confidence. Purpose.

"I will suck every last drop from your cock. I will devour your balls." Angel Breaker seemed demented as her hands doubled in speed. A crazy, nonsensical smile spread across her. Wet slaps of flesh echoed as her handjob intensified. Her mouth latched onto his sack, nibbling the satchel pouch, then attempted to swallow his tangerine testicle in her mouth. She failed and ended up lathering him in her saliva.

"Where is this coming from?" Aaron asked, raising a brow. He clenched a fist and swallowed down a moan. He could not afford to show weakness.

While still continuing to beat his shaft, Angel Breaker shoved herself in his nuts. Her tongue went in wide circles and outlined the shape of his colossal balls. Her head twirled and twirled until even Aaron was forced to concede a moan.

"Yes!" Hearing the sign of pleasure, she pulled back and stared up at him. She was out of her mind, fanatical as her palms gave him a death grip. She shifted back, using one knee then the other, until she was on the end of his length. Restless, hands servicing him as if it was much needed background noise, she took a deep breath.

"Please fuck my mouth like a pussy!" The hearts in her eyes seemed to solidify. Pink and stimulated with arousal, her begging was honest and to the point.

Aaron pretended to be annoyed, despite inwardly agreeing with her. He pointed his knob, adjusted between her lips, and shoved it down her throat. The gagging was instantaneous. A firm tightness wrapped his girth. Her lips and gullet clamped down on him hard, bulging and creating noises of struggle and coughing. Her little bowtie did not hide the harrowing sight in the slightest.

He wasn't slow nor was he gentle. Shoving every inch of his meaty thick cock should have been nearly impossible but he forced it down. He used his newfound strength to send this woman in submission.

Her nose poked his pelvis. Her eyes rolled back, struggling with the sheer size, he granted her no mercy and skull-fucked her. Fingers gripping her snowy hair, he dictated her movements and forced her to and fro. He was moderate at first and wanted her to get used to it.

Angel gagged and heaved all at the same time. She struggled to breathe, her lungs filled with the smell of his natural odour. Delicious. She wanted more. She NEEDED more. She put in the effort. She tried to meet his expectations.

Her tongues swirled. She prepared herself for every time her nose made contact with his pelvis. Through gurgling and gagging, Angel Breaker serviced him. White saliva spilled from the stretched O-shaped mouth of hers.

"You dumb bitch," Aaron cursed, the tightness of her throat hardly pleasing him. "Do better!"

He thrusted his hips forward and propelled his giant cock deeper. Angel Breaker couldn't believe it. She couldn't breath, her nose and mouth were entirely blocked. Her bleached complexion started to redden.

Her hands slapped at his legs. Aaron offered her no sympathy. He didn't move, using his hands to make sure she stayed there choking in his cock.

"Did you really think you can handle me, Angel Whore?" Aaron sneered. She continued tapping, asking for mercy.

Eventually, he relented.

His grip on her released, she practically flew off his dick. Coughing, wheezing, both hands holding her throat.

"Hurk! Hurk! Ack, ack, ach! Euch! Ack!"

He smirked and enjoyed the villain's descent to lowly servitude. "Had enough, whore?"

"...no…"

Her recovery was astonishingly fast. Before he knew it, she latched onto his cock again, but rather than deepthroat him she opted for a blowjob. A skillful show of tongue and her mouth instead of the deep caverns of her throat.

"Not bad," Aaron complimented, smiling. Her focus was on his head, his most sensitive zone. Tongue swishing and licking, engulfing his ridges in a pleasant warmth.

"Thank you," Angel Breaker replied, ripping away from his head for a moment. "When you are close, place your load right here."

She licked her lips and opened her mouth. Her tongue did a long, seductive swirl. An alluring symbol of consent. Then, she went back to slurping on his cock.

"Look at you go," he continued, smiling. An intense pressure built up in his heavy balls. A hum left his lips. It felt like a massage–a warm, tasty massage tending to his glans. The woman was addicted and eager and Aaron sighed in relief from her work. "Fuck…that's good. Keep at it. Right there!"

The underside of his glans. Everytime she traced it, his cock lurched forward with want. For the briefest of moments, overwhelmed by his tip tapping of her throat, she stopped.

"You dumb bitch, don't stop! If you can't deepthroat, at least give a decent blowjob."

Her eyes went wide and her hands wrapped his shaft, using it to balance herself as she pleasured him. Then, realizing she could kill two birds with one stone, she started stroking him again. The sensation was immaculate. Magical.

"Finally! Fuck!"

Hands wrapped around the base and shaft while her lips sucked him off. Aaron needed to be vocal in order to continue imprinting his authority over her. Over the course of a minute, he throbbed hard and oozed globs of pre-cum. Angel Breaker lapped it into her mouth instantly.

Fast and dedicated, she slurped and slurped. Pumped and pumped. Meanwhile, he continued to throb, continued to redden and pulsate and feel. His veins pulsing and breathing like a strong heart. The heat was astonishing.

"Mmm. This really is an elite level blowjob." Her cock stuffed mouth attempted to smile. "Unfortunately, I've had better. I've had masters. Now take my cum, you whore!"

He leaned over, seized the back of her skull, and fucking plunged her down his shaft while simultaneously throttling his hips forward. The meeting between eyes and pelvis couldn't have been brutaller. It was a two-sided pronged attack, a deepthroat of dubious consent.

Angel Breaker gagged. She heaved and coughed and slobbered. Yet he maintained a firm hold over her skull as his balls clenched and the pressure released.

He came down her throat, through her oesophagus and directly into her stomach. The complete volume of his immense load draining down her. Angel Breaker's eyes rolled back. Cum burst from her mouth. But he offered her no sympathy.

For what she had done was much, much worse. He came and came and continued to throb and spew baby batter no matter how broken she became.

"Drink every last drop, whore!" His two handed grip on her skull was occasionally used to thrust back and forth–to shove his load deeper. Frankly, she wasn't even a whore. She was something much worse. She couldn't swallow, much less move as the pungent smell of sweet cum entered her systems from her mouth and nose. Two of her senses were utterly entranced by his spunk. Flooded and controlled.

Angel Breaker wasn't swallowing as much as she was simply taking. It was like a blood transfusion–a process the body could not deny. She absorbed his load because she had to. Because it belonged to the Chosen One. Resistance wasn't an option even as tears flooded down her cheeks.

This was the big, fat cock of the Chosen One. The big, fat load of the Chosen. Her arrogance and self-confidence might have crumbled in face of its greatness but she would hold on to whatever strings of willpower she had.

And she took it all.

Her throat bulged as Aaron pulled out. Pop! The sound was sensational, like the cherry on top. Her mouth stayed open, glazed with hot white cum. Aaron looked pleased.

"Didn't I say to swallow it all?"

Angel Breaker closed her mouth and did as she was told. She swallowed what must have been over a litre of his delicious essence. Aaron looked extra pleased. For the first time in a long time, he managed to do a deepthroat without coating the woman in white.

"From now on, I'm going to call you Angel Whore. Understand? It will make differentiating from the sword easier."

"Angel Whore…?" she repeated, dazing. Addicted, no, adjusted to the taste of sperm, she couldn't function properly. But now, after Aaron's declaration, she lit up with feverish energy. "Yes. Yes, of course. Of course! I am Angel Whore! Angel Whore!"

Angel Whore. In his head, out loud, that was what he was going to call her.

"Now then, Angel Whore," the name rolled off his tongue delightfully. His cock throbbed and Angel Whore watched with enthusiasm, her heart-shaped pupils glowing pink. "Lay on your back. It's time to consummate."

Her expression couldn't have been happier. She had been waiting years for this. She laid down on her back and spread her legs like a street whore.

He put her legs over his shoulders and slapped his dong on her. The heat was immense. She shivered. Her breathing quickened. Her chest expanded over and over again in a cycle of terror, exhilaration, and obedience. Staying still, his length reaching further than any male had any right to.

But he was the Chosen One. Of course his cock could reach across her stomach so broadly and with such intimidation and size. Aaron Reigner was the One.

Her pussylips tingled as he eventually drew back and prepared for entry. It was like a rocket, powerful and filled with ambition. In this case, the goal was to fuck this whore to oblivion.

There was no need to describe how he stretched because he always did that. There was no need to describe her tightening walls because that also always happened.

Angel Whore's training, her alleged reason for giving her virginity to another man, was rendered moot. Not only did he fuck her far better than previous penises inside her but he fucked her hard enough to pretty much turn her back into a virgin. It was like her cunt was split and stretched all over again.

He pushed his fist-thick cock so deep the whore could hardly react. Deeper, deeper, deeper, till she was crying his name out. "Aaron! Aaron! Aaron Reigner! My love~! Love~!" Her body shook and quaked as he fucked her. In and out, in and out, never releasing her ankles as he continued pounding her like it was nothing. She tried to clench around his thick member, she tried to resist the impossible arrival of an intense climax, yet it was all in vain.

She was fucking drenched. An easily accessible hole that was getting fucked. Breathless, mouth bobbing, raspy moaning coming one after another. Her eyes were locked onto his, witnessing the Chosen One blessing her with what she had wanted her whole life: happiness. It was a kind of joy she had never received from killing or fighting–or even from the magical Angel Breaker. And Aaron–the tiny smile on his face showed he was accustomed to this. Sexually breaking women, fucking at such a brutal pace, this was norma for him.

"Yes…yes! Drill me all the way! I…I-I love you!"

With full strokes, he pistoned that pussy. "Hold on tight!" He gripped her ankles tightly and she gasped as he doubled his efforts. Speed, strength, the deepness, the sensations of liberation increased to a divine-like degree. Angel Whore wasn't servicing him, he was servicing her. He sent her to a heavenly realm she would have experienced as a virgin. Instead, she went out and betrayed her destiny, accepting mediocrity from some man.

As if the universe answered to his whims, a name came to him. "Ghost Maker? Minhkhoa Khan? That was his name?" Aaron paused for a moment and shook his head. In this brief minute, Angel Whore recovered as much air as she could. Humming to himself at the image of the vigilante, Aaron chuckled. He needed to. He had to play this character. He had to be cruel. With a swift thrust, he piled back inside her and stretched her walls as he throbbed and pulsated. The signs of an orgasm were there. He didn't even warn her.

His balls clenched and he came. The seed he blessed in her womb would hopefully not give her the child she desperately desired. To find out that she wasn't his chosen mate would be the greatest punishment Angel Whore could ever receive. She deserved it too. It seemed to be an impossible task given the sheer size of his load. Strangely enough, he didn't think it would happen. It was like he understood the world. He had a general understanding of things, including whether she would get pregnant.

Ripping away from her pussy, a tidal wave of his thick white spunk escaped. The view was greater than anything in porn and in the back of his mind a tingle told him she wouldn't get pregnant.

Her eyes were dazed and nearly rolled back. Her arms lay behind her, splattered and weak. Her pussy was exposed and stuffed.

So he went back in again.

Gasps escaped her like fireworks. Another dose of big white cock was almost too much. Somehow, perhaps due to his newfound power, he went faster than ever before. So fast that the sound of wetness was seemingly congested into a single line of music. His bed rocked back and forth. Her moans of pleasure became louder and louder.

"Angel Whore, you dumb bitch," Aaron called, chuckling. "You're nothing but a fucktoy to me." His words reflected his actions. With the way he fucked her, used her, thrusted into her, watched her, she was a sexual object for him. An amusement to pass the time. Already, he had creampied and accomplished their so-called mission yet he did not stop. He continued. He railed her and maintained his grip on her raised legs.

Her ample breasts wobbled wildly. The bed rocked back and forth, back and forth until–

It broke.

The bed fucking broke from how hard he had been fucking her. The wooden planks underneath snapped in half and the mattress collapsed down.

Luckily, no one was injured.

And Aaron was still fucking her.

There was no mercy. No escaping. There was only him and his cock inside her.

The whore came for the fortieth time today. There was plenty more where that came from, Aaron mused to himself.

***

"Who…is this?"

"Don't tell me it's…"

Aaron had called Hadiyah and Jaina Hudson to pick Angel Whore up. She was unconscious and likely not to wake up for hours and staying at his apartment was not an option. His brush with the Bat Family made it too great a risk. As for Angel Whore herself, she was practically unrecognizable. If Hadiyah hadn't been searching for her vehemently under the behest of the Bat Family, she wouldn't have identified her either. Under the glaze of cum, the absolute swamp of gooey white sperm, it was like she had been fucked for weeks. Only four hours had passed.

Aaron was in the middle of his room attempting to fix his bed. Three of the supporting wooden planks were snapped. He needed to replace them.

"Just take her away," Aaron said, gesturing the broken woman away with a sweeping hand. "I don't care whose place, just somewhere she won't be found."

Naked, manhood hanging, the female gaze wandered for a moment before comprehending his words. "I can take him to my house. I have a security system and a place underground," Hadiyah stated. "I also have my own car. Does that work?"

"Sure."

The cum stained sack of flesh was carefully peeled from the separated mattress. Glances were exchanged as their fingers were coated with the slimy essence. They stopped. "Look," Jaina began, "I know you're well-hung and deserve to creampie anyone you want with those burly balls of yours, but this is a little excessive. Unless you screw me senseless, I'm not poking that thing."

His soft dong twitched. There was an impasse. Jaina narrowed her eyes and smiled in anticipation. Her long, flowing hair cascaded down her back, complementing her warm, green eyes. She wore a vibrant, flowy kurta paired with well-fitted jeans, and placed her hands on her dump truck of an ass. His dick twitched again. Pre-cum fell from his drooping tip like a broken faucet. The two brown women swallowed in fear and anticipation. Hadiyah dressed conservatively and hid her curves but Jaina? Her breasts were rounder and fuller than the naked whore in the room and it was plain to see. Not to mention her dynamic with White Rabbit made the sex all the spicier. Unfortunately, as much as he wanted to rail the Indian woman's brains, he couldn't. Not today.

Turning, he closed his eyes and caught the droplet of water within him. The snippet of his omnipotence. He snapped his fingers. Poof! Just like that, Angel Whore was clean. Spotless. Still unconscious but devoid of the fluids that had been washed over her.

Jaina whistled appreciatively while Hadiyah stuttered in disbelief. "H-how did you–"

"Magic," Aaron answered. His powers were vast and immense and he didn't understand the surface of it. Even so, the basic ability to manipulate one's body came easily. "Now go. Put her in your car."

Jaina summoned White Rabbit and carried the woman over her shoulders. The big-titty rabbit winked at him as she did her job and removed herself from his room.

"Should I carry the sword?" Hadiyah asked, looking pointedly at the ominous sword. Even an ordinary human could sense the magic within, especially fresh after a kill. Aaron waved her off.

"No need. I'll take care of it. Go."

Hadiyah sent him a concerned look. She was smart, she could tell something was up with him. However, due to the nature of their relationship, she knew not to press. As soon as she was gone, Aaron sighed in exasperation.

"This damn bed." He stepped out of the mangled depths of his bed.. Removing his sperm was doable because it was literally him. An extension of himself. But a foreign bed? He closed his eyes, summoned the tidal wave of energy inside him, and attached it to the bed. Snap! Opening his eyes, he sighed in relief. It was back. His bed was back and in mint condition. The way the blankets and pillows were set was just as he imagined it.

Element X, the metal of reality. Perhaps a deep yet vivid imagination was necessary for his powers. Now came the elephant in the room. The bigger problem. The presence he had been ignoring. He sat on the edge of his bed and looked directly at the short individual leaning on his door.

"I can see you," Aaron said. "What do you want?"

An attractive, pale goth girl. A human by all measures. Hands in her pockets, she had been watching him ever since he had finished fucking Angel Whore. Eyes locked on his naked form as he failed to fix his bed, interacted with Hadiyah and Jaina, and then used his newfound powers to recreate his bed. She had been watching. Observing. Never glancing away. Forever glued to him like the grim reaper.

"You can see me?" The woman's black eyes shone with surprise and intrigue. Underneath her right eye was an Egyptian-like eye marking and she wore a silver necklace also of Egyptian origin. "I suppose I shouldn't expect anything less from you, Mr. Chosen One."

Aaron's lips felt dry. An ominous aura enveloped this woman. He recognized it. He had felt it. "…Death, correct?" He should have shivered at the call of her name. He didn't.

Death chuckled and pushed herself off the door. "You were nearby when Angel Breaker killed and revived those people. Then, you killed Prometheus and to an extent the Chosen Messenger. Did you not think I would appear?"

An emo goth girl was Death? That was certainly a hell of an aesthetic choice for a primordial entity. Her pale skin held a luminescence and her eyes were a black void deserving of her transient nature. Arms crossed across her flat chest, she smiled pleasantly, like this was another conversation in her exceedingly long, fulfilled life.

"What do you want?" Aaron asked. As pretty as she was, she was dangerous. The ends of his hair stood up in attention. This wasn't a human like Batman or a metahuman like Poison Ivy. This was Death. Literally fucking Death. Aaron didn't know where he lay in the cosmic order but he was sure the placement wouldn't have changed just how threatening and powerful she was. Death. Yes, with a mere glance, he could tell she was something else. Lurking within her was wisdom, endurance, and otherworldly omnipotence.

"Would you believe me if I said I'm here to see that demonic penis dangling between your legs." Pause. She laughed to herself. "Joking. I'm Death. I am here because I have to be. That is all."

"I sincerely doubt that." Aaron stared at her, unamused. "You have something to tell me."

"Hm. Okay, you got me. I do," Death admitted, black lips smiling. She started prancing around his room, chippery as she glanced between his bed, the white walls, and the fluids thrown on the floor. She suddenly leaned down, scooped a bit of said fluids, and plopped it into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed. Flaps of delight stirred the world. "Delicious. What I wished to tell you was advice. The hierarchy of the world is strange because there is no set hierarchy. It's constantly shifting. There's Eclipso, the Spectre, the Fifth Dimensional Imps, the Monitors, the angels, the Hands…us, the Endless, the Great Darkness, the Presence…You and Empty hand. Yet sometimes, mortals like the Justice League are able to threaten the cosmic order. For example, the mighty Wonder Woman was able to bind her Lasso of Truth with Element X in the World Forge. She created a link between everyone and history, creating a stream of Anti-Crisis Energy that rivalled even us, the Endless. The Hands of the Presence who were thinking of recreating this crisis-induced multiverse decided to reconsider their plans. Destiny had changed. The death of the universe had altered."

Aaron cocked a brow. "You think I'm going to shift the hierarchy again? Sorry, I have no interest in any of that."

"Perhaps, perhaps not." Death sat down next to him, legs dangling. She was shorter than she looked. "The Endless were once troubled by a group called the Challengers of the Unknown. The Book of Souls chained to my older brother, Destiny, could not understand or read their actions. They were invisible. Unpredictable. They were changing the predetermined events of the universe. Luckily, your little Earthly super heroes–Batman, Green Lantern, and Supergirl–helped fix this cosmic mistake."

"I am not the same as the Challengers of the Unknown. I'm staying in Gotham. I'm not leaving. I have no interest in stirring trouble."

"I'm not saying you are, I'm saying you could be. And a potential danger on a multiversal scale is too great to just ignore. So far, my older brother hasn't detected you. Evidence that you have the potential of something true and powerful." Aaron side-eyed her. Death chuckled, easy-going as ever. Her tongue glided across her black lips. "See, it is not just my older brother Destiny that has not noticed you. Even Elaine Belloc, the new Presence, has not seen you in all her wise omnipotence. Interesting, is it not? The one granted control over creation does not even know about said creations."

"And in your inferior omniscience, you noticed me."

"Only because you indirectly killed someone in such a blazing manner. Otherwise, I wouldn't have known you appeared." Death sighed and looked up at the popcorn ceiling. It should have been the least interesting sight in her existence yet her eyes glimmered. "I do not know what you are. I do not know what the Presence had intended to do with you or how you and the Chosen Messenger truly came to be. Frankly, this whole Chosen One business was told to no one, not even me or my brothers and sisters. If your little Angel Whore hadn't flaunted the term, it would have escaped death's vision. My vision."

'The Chosen Messenger…the Manhunter. I see.'

The Chosen One, the Chosen Messenger, the Chosen Bride…how quaint. The roles were so organized he wondered why the Presence–why the Writer–even assigned them.

"Tell me, do you dream?" Death asked.

Aaron's answer was immediate. "Never."

"I rest my case. You are undetectable. An impossibility. An existence beyond the Endless."

"So what happens now?" Aaron chuckled and craned his neck towards her. "I fuck you and we go on our merry way?"

Death glanced at his face, then down at his dangling member. Her smile spread. She licked her black lips. "Next time, maybe. No offence, but if you and I fuck, the entirety of my core might shake. Death may cease to exist in particular universes. I need to be ready. Cautious." Her hands brushed his thigh as she got up. She raised her arms and stretched, showing her magnificent complexion and her slender figure. "My form isn't exactly built for sex either. I believe I'm an A-cup? It is not impressive."

"It's fine. I don't mind flat chests," Aaron replied, looking her over. Her tight black pants, her spiked belt, and her dark shoulder-strap top complimented her nature. If Death could take shape, it shouldn't be in the form of a grim reaper or an old man. Death should be a hot goth girl. It just made sense. Aaron was convinced. "Next time then."

"Next time." Without looking back, she went past his door and into the darkness. "Aaron Reigner." Her final words echoed as she faded into her next reality–her next death. The chill that he had been gripping the room dissipated.

Aaron breathed.

'A talk with Death was not on my agenda today. Jeez.' He scratched the back of his head. Afterwards, he peered down at his flaccid dong. The wetness he expected was gone. Fluids, cum, sweat, it all dissipated the moment he glanced at it. Perhaps it was a sign of his abilities. Although he could not wield omnipotence yet, he could manipulate himself to an extent.

Ivy had forcibly awakened his powers. No, actually…considering the sexual nature of his hypnosis and its similarities to Ivy's pheromones, it would be accurate to say he had unconsciously copied his powers from her. The same manner he imitated Lady Shiva's climbing. His trio of followers had said he could do anything and they likely weren't exaggerating. It was a part of his skill set, his powers–to copy and imitate.

He wondered what else he could do…