Marvel: Impregnation System

Chapter 188 - 178: Rolling Hills Part 1

"Samuel?" Chores unclenched his fists, a wide smile spreading across his face as he recognized the man who had called him here today, Samuel Frost.

"H-Hello, Chores," Samuel stammered, his face pale as he nervously rubbed the back of his palm.

"I know we already had this conversation before, but I thought you'd give me a little more time for the budget." Chores said, his tone lighthearted, forming a narrative in his head as if going off their last discussion.

In his mind, Chores assumed Samuel had called him to discuss the budget as he was still juggling numbers, trying to make everything work with the limited funds they had, at least until Ricky returned so that they could hold out their hands once again.

"I know, I did say that." Samuel muttered, his breath cold as he fidgeted in place.

"Are you okay?" Chores took a step forward, scrunching his brows at Samuel, who ducked his head.

"You're looking a little pale, almost like you're about to vomit," Chores said, his voice lined with concern since Samuel looked sick to his stomach.

Being the decent guy he was, he reached out toward Samuel, only to notice the slight tremble running through him.

"Chores, you are my only friend," Samuel suddenly confessed, his voice trembling with an unsettling sincerity.

Chores simply blinked, caught off guard by the sudden proclamation, and unable to respond until he finally thawed out from his own shock.

"Your only friend? What are you talking about-"

"I-I usually keep a distance from everyone due to my research and work." Samuel continued, his voice wavering as if he were confessing a long-held sin.

He seemed unable to engage in an actual conversation with Chores, instead rambling on, lost in his own thoughts, his own confession, as the words tumbled out.

"And although our interactions always seemed brief, like passing words, I truly consider you my only friend." Samuel rambled on, trying his hardest to stand there and talk to Chores but the words continued to pour from his mouth like some sort of floodgate that had burst open.

As if he were laying bare a sin, turning this moment into his own personal confessional.

Samuel struggled to contain it, his voice unsteady, as if years of bottled-up emotions were finally breaking free.

"Samuel?" Chores furrowed his brows, confusion creeping in as he had never seen Samuel like this before, and a hint of worry settled in his chest.

But it wasn't just the strangeness of the situation or the eeriness of the desolate meeting spot, it was genuine concern for Samuel himself, as Chores wondered if he was in the midst of a nervous breakdown.

"I didn't think you deserved to be there," Samuel admitted, ducking his head, struggling to get the words out.

But as Samuel pressed on, Chores exhaled slowly, realizing that the man before him needed to speak his truth before he could respond, as if he had unconsciously stepped into the role of a priest, patiently waiting to hear his confession and forgive him for his sins.

"When you first arrived at the alchemy guild, I saw you as nothing more than an outsider, someone who merely followed another outsider," Samuel confessed, fidgeting with his fingers but when he tried to look up at Chores, a wave of shame washed over him, forcing his gaze to drop once more.

"I thought you were holding everyone back, always wandering around like you didn't belong," Samuel continued, recalling the early days when Chores tried to immerse himself in the coven's work.

He could still remember how the witches and warlocks dismissed him, and even he himself had done the same, refusing to offer help or guidance.

When Chores first arrived at the coven and its alchemy guild, he wasn't met with open arms, but with begrudging disdain.

Ricky was the only reason he was even allowed entry into their noble doors, and many of the members saw it as an insult.

To the coven, Ricky wasn't initially seen as the respected figure he became after defeating Dracula.

Before that, he was nothing more than Agatha's gigolo, a label that stuck to him in the eyes of many.

But instead of feeling that disdain himself, the one who truly bore the brunt of it was Chores.

They couldn't outright hate Ricky, especially after he fathered Agatha's child, but they could, and did, turn their disdain on Chores.

"But what I eventually came to admire about you wasn't just your persistence in waking up every day to complete the meaningless tasks we scornfully assigned you." Samuel continued, his voice softening at the memory.

Softening at how they always gave him the most brutal cleaning tasks, but Chores always found a way to finish them, time and time again.

From scrubbing the ash marks off the fireplaces to cleaning the endless piles of broken shards of glass, Chores literally went above and beyond.

It was because of this effort, this sheer dedication to not be left behind, that had forced the coven to slowly acknowledge his presence, even if begrudgingly at first.

Chores' persistence was impossible to ignore, and though they resented him at times, they couldn't deny the value he brought, even if it was in ways they hadn't initially understood.

"But the thing that made me grow to respect you was the fact that you were resolute in your respect towards our coven," Samuel genuinely said, remembering how when Ricky entered the fold, he never seemed to care about their values or traditions as he always did his own thing.

Chores, on the other hand, embraced the coven's traditions and customs whole heartedly, following them with a quiet dedication that earned Samuel's respect.

"Anyone can understand their own weaknesses and seek to improve them, but I think it takes a real man, a sophisticated man, to go above and beyond without hiding behind others." Samuel genuinely praised Chores in this moment, showing a hint of a small unwillingness that faded just as fast as it bloomed.

"Many ambitious people think that their desires are the only thing that matters, but when you first came to the alchemy guild, you didn't try to be different." Samuel paused, his voice growing more contemplative as if struggling to come to terms with his choices the more he talked.

"You didn't try to change how the guild flowed, how the coven flowed, and unlike your friend Ricky Luciano. You adopted our ways." Samuel's voice shook as he spoke, reflecting the same steady stream that Chores followed within the coven.

Even now, Chores continued to honor their practices, paying respect to his ancestors, joining them on their most holy days, and even sourcing various materials for coven members who struggled to find the proper ingredients for equipment and spells in this new metropolitan area.

"You learned from us, starting at the very bottom as a mere scrubber, and worked your way up," Samuel said, his voice filled with quiet admiration as he couldn't help but reflect on how much longer he had struggled at the bottom ranks compared to Chores, whose resilience had pushed him forward so much faster.

"But what I truly admired was how you didn't rely on Ricky Luciano's influence, you took the path that all of us had to undergo when rising through the ranks." Samuel sniffled, wiping his eyes slightly and continuing to ramble on.

"From a scrubber, to a field hand, to an assistant, to a student, and then a researcher, but you didn't stop there, you started applying your research to our inventions, bringing something fresh and valuable to the table." Samuel listed, almost coming to terms with his decision and paying tribute to all of Chores sacrifices with this incessantly long monologue.

"How you didn't insult us when you didn't understand something, but instead, you sought to improve it. You came to us first for permission, to avoid defacing us in any way when wanting to adjust our tools." Samuel continued, his words heavy with sincerity as his teeth gnashed together.

"That three-year term was a time of change, a time where no one knew what was going to happen or how it would affect the coven." Samuel added, pausing as if lost in the memory, reminiscing about the time when the lines weren't drawn in the sand.

"You were one of the only pieces that didn't seek to harbor change but instead sought to improve your surroundings." Samuel took a deep breath before continuing before finally looking up towards Chores, finally having the courage.

"I do not like change, I'm not a fan of it, and in fact, I am against it even now," Samuel said, his tone steady, though his words carried a weight he hadn't fully realized until now.

He expected Chores to react, to show some sign of disagreement, maybe even frustration at not even letting him have a single sentence in, but what he saw instead was the smile Chores wore, a smile that, for a moment, felt more genuine than any he'd expected.

But then, something broke within Samuel and with it, his voice faltered like the shattering glass in his soul.

"But I-.....I'm sorry."

The words felt like they tumbled out of him unwillingly as the apology wasn't something he had planned, but as he looked at Chores, who stood there, patient and considerate, he couldn't help but feel a wave of shame wash over him.

"I'm so sorry~" Samuel covered his face, unable to believe the vulnerability that had slipped from his lips.

Chores looked at him, surprise evident in his eyes, as if he hadn't quite understood what was happening.

"Hey, Samuel, listen." Chores' voice was firm but gentle, a sharp contrast to the emotional storm brewing inside Samuel.

"I'm sorry." Chores suddenly said, surprising Samuel completely.

The apology came out so unexpectedly that Samuel froze, staring at him in disbelief, as if his world had suddenly shifted in a way he couldn't quite comprehend.

Samuel blinked, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find the right words as he hadn't expected this turn of events at all.

"I didn't realize you were going through this rough patch," Chores admitted, his tone heavy with regret.

"I think I just became so consumed with trying to prove that I was the man I promised Slick I would be." Chores sighed, shaking his head as he couldn't shake the feeling that his own ambitions had cast a cold shadow over his friend's existence.

"So much so that I took away from your own feelings, and I'm sorry for that." Chores rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, his guilt evident, but his words were so sincere in their apologetic nature

"I should've treated you like a better friend, like how you always treat me." Chores said with a small smile, patting Samuel's shoulder gently.

Samuel covered his eyes, clearly fighting to hold back the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm him as his guilt all but crashed down on his subconscious in this very moment.

"I don't know if this is a distant parallel to you leading up to me wanting to innovate the factories and how I'm always drawing funds, but I want you to know that if it's too much, I'll stop." Chores sighed deeply, the words feeling heavy in his chest.

"I never meant to overshadow you with my obsession. I was so focused on trying to do something great that I might've crushed the good guy in front of me." Chores voice faltered slightly as he looked at Samuel, a sincere apology in his eyes.

No one could truly grasp the gravity of Chores' words except for the two men standing there, confiding in one another.

But this was Chores' dream, something he'd kept hidden for so long.

It had been dismissed, overlooked, passed around in conversations here and there, but it was Chores' heart, his vision.

He didn't just want to innovate, he wanted to revolutionize the entire manufacturing industry.

Chores envisioned a factory that didn't just churn out products but embodied the cutting edge of progress, one that could compete with the most innovative brands.

This wasn't just about machines or labor, it was about systems, about creating something that could thrive on its own, something sustainable and forward-thinking.

He had been pouring over Daedalus' notebooks and research, ideas on self-sustaining labyrinths, on how to build spaces that weren't just functional but could maintain themselves.

To Chores, the labyrinth was more than a structure; it was an ecosystem, each part connected, each piece feeding into the other.

A labyrinth, at its core, is an intricate system composed of various components, including monsters.

But these monsters aren't just random creatures, they serve a purpose.

They must have properties, qualities that allow them to thrive and function within the labyrinth, and these properties must come from the labyrinth itself.

In return, the labyrinth caters to these creatures' needs, and the monsters, in turn, serve the labyrinth by helping to sustain and protect its complex structure.

In this symbiotic relationship, the labyrinth feeds the creatures, providing them with the necessary conditions to survive, while the monsters help preserve the labyrinth's integrity.

Chores wanted to use the concept of the labyrinth as the foundation for a groundbreaking innovation, a factory cycle that was not only functional but self-sustaining.

His vision was to create a system where every part of the factory, from the workers to the products to the machinery, worked in perfect harmony.

Each element would be interdependent, feeding into the other, creating a balance that would benefit all involved.

The workers would thrive in an environment that catered to their needs, the products would be of the highest quality because of it, and the factory itself would run as smoothly as any well-designed ecosystem.

Chores aspired to be a pioneer of innovation as he dreamed of applying the teachings of Daedalus, not just to the realm of architecture or alchemy, but to the real world of industrial production.

Daedalus had understood the principles of self-sustaining systems, and Chores wanted to prove that these principles could extend far beyond the confines of mythical labyrinths.

He believed that the future of industry lay in this interconnected, symbiotic approach, where everything, from the smallest cog to the largest machine, worked together for the greater good of the whole.

He was passionate about this vision, excited by the potential it held for the world, and was tirelessly working toward making it a reality.

Every step he took, every idea he refined, was driven by the belief that this innovation could change everything, for the better.

But when it came to Samuel, his friend, Chores found himself at a crossroads.

Despite his dreams and ambitions, he was willing to set them aside, to sacrifice them, because Samuel mattered more to him.

Their friendship was greater than any breakthrough or success.

Chores had always put his friends first, and even if it meant giving up his greatest aspiration, he was prepared to do so because that was the kind of guy Chores was.

Be it Ricky, Barko, or Samuel, they were his closest friends.

Chores didn't get out much, and while he was gentle at heart, his towering, imposing figure often made others stay away.

People saw his size before they saw his kindness, and that made it hard for him to connect but with Ricky, Barko, and Samuel, he found trust and camaraderie.

They were the few who saw beyond his appearance, who understood the real him, and in return, he held onto them tightly.

They were his anchor in a world that often seemed to misjudge him, and that bond was something he valued more than anything.

"Samuel, I understand that it has been rough as of late, both with the coven and the company," Chores said with a soft smile, his expression full of understanding.

"Every company goes through tough times, but I suppose I've been overlooking you, I suppose all of us have been overlooking you." Chores paused, his gaze thoughtful since Samuel had really been bearing the brunt of the stress as of late and he decided that it was his turn to take on his fair share.

"We get so caught up in our own dreams and ambitions that we fail to really see what's around us, the people who've been there all along." Chores continued, his voice steady but filled with regret.

"I think I've had my head down for too long, and I should've looked up once in a while." Chores said, feeling almost relieved that he was having this conversation with Samuel as it really opened his eyes.

"I could've been a better friend to you, and to Barko."

Sigh

"Y'know, Barko's been struggling too as his research isn't going well, and he keeps needing more funds but the more he takes from Ricky, the more worthless he feels." Chores sighed, knowing that even now Barko was combing over his findings.

"Now that I think about, seeing the bay over there on the horizon, reminded me of him since he operates so-"

"Chores, I didn't call you here for any of that, this has nothing to do with the budget." Samuel interrupted him, his voice breaking as more people slowly started to gather around.

"Aren't these-.......coven members?" Chores suddenly asked, his gaze sweeping over the crowd.

He recognized most of them, but one particular face caught his eye, Samuel's grandmother, standing quietly in the back, watching him intently.

Morgana Frost.

"Honey, it's time," Morgana Frost spoke softly, opening her arms, her voice gentle yet firm as she addressed Samuel.

"Yeah, Sammy boy, it's time," Samuel's father chuckled, his voice laced with amusement as he wrapped his arm around Samuel, pulling him closer while sneaking a dagger into his cloak and yet, he almost refused to take it.

Chores raised an eyebrow but took a step back, not wanting to get in the middle of their family drama.

It wasn't his place, and he respected that as he quietly observed, waiting for the tension to pass, to continue their conversation on whatever it is this whole thing was.

"But I-"

"Samuel, do it." Samuel's father squeezed his son's shoulder, his gaze intense, drilling into Samuel's skull as a small chuckle echoed at the side.

"Let my poor nephew have a second to breathe, it is his first kill, after all." Samuel's aunt chuckled, lecturing her brother as if it were all part of a well-rehearsed script.

It was in that moment, the casualness of their words, the way they spoke about something so heavy, that Chores' suspicion began to grow.

The air felt charged with something darker than he had anticipated, the reality of what was happening starting to sink in.

Something wasn't right, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was witnessing more than he was meant to.

"First kill?" Chores suddenly asked, his brow furrowing as he looked at Samuel.

The confusion was clear on his face as he watched Samuel grab at his hood, his hands trembling slightly.

Samuel's eyes flickered up, meeting Chores' gaze for a brief moment as if telling him to run before Morgana Frost raised her hand to start the proceeding.

WHOOSH

Suddenly, the wind slashed through the air, the sound of something cutting sharply followed by a wet, slicing noise.

Chores didn't even realize it at first, the first sensation he truly felt was his body shifting to the right, followed by his balance faltering.

It wasn't until he slammed into the ground did he feel that sharp, searing pain that he realized something was terribly wrong.

Looking down, it was as if his brain finally acknowledged the nerves within his body, reacting to the sight of the gaping wound where his left leg used to be as blood poured from the severed portion below his knee.

"ARGH!" Chores grunted, the pain radiating through him as his hands instinctively reached for the severed portion of his leg.

His warm, scarlet blood spilled between his fingers, and the overwhelming sensation of the injury made his head spin.

The spell had cut his leg clean off, leaving only the bloody stump where it once was.

Blood spurted from the fresh wound, staining the ground beneath him as Chores felt the veins in his neck pulse with a violent intensity, threatening to burst.

His vision blurred with the pain, but he forced himself to look up at them, his gaze filled with a mix of disbelief and yet, seething with anger.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING-"

Snap

The sound of Morgana's fingers snapping shut Chores' mouth instantly, his voice cut off as the pain in his body grew more intense as he tried to struggle, but his throat constricted with an invisible force.

The giant slowly looked up at Samuel, eyes wide in disbelief, as Morgana slowly forced the gleaming dagger that his father had been nudging towards him this whole time, into his hands.

"Samuel, dear, it's either him or your kin," Morgana whispered into his ear, her words soft but laced with a chilling finality, as she watched her grandson grip the dagger with trembling hands.

Then, one by one, they slowly backed away, leaving Samuel alone with his decision.

They could guide his hands, but they knew they couldn't force him to drive the dagger into Chores' heart, as doing so would strip it of its true meaning.

It had to come from Samuel, it had to be his choice, his own sin.

"I'm sorry." Samuel muttered, his voice breaking as tears welled in his eyes as he truly didn't want this, didn't want any of this.

Those persistent thoughts of how Chores had always been there for him echoed in his mind, suffocating him with guilt as he realized he was about to stab him in the back.

Chores shook his head, raising a hand as if to stop Samuel from going through with it, as though trying to convey that he didn't have to do this.

But the words wouldn't come out, caught in his throat, strangled by the spell cast on him at Morgana Frost's behest.

"I'm sorry."

Samuel repeated it over and over again, each word slipping from his lips like a desperate prayer.

His hands shook as he gripped the dagger, and in the eyes of all who watched, he lunged forward.

Chores, sensing the movement behind him, made his way to the edge of the cliff, his heart heavy with the realization of what was about to happen.

Splat

Be it his family members, be it Merlyn, and be it Chores, they all watched with varying expressions as Samuel dug the dagger into Chores' heart, whispering something under his breath, an apology, assumed to be for all the pain he had caused.

His words, though unheard by all but two, hung heavy in the air.

The act itself seemed almost surreal, as if time had slowed to capture this singular moment of betrayal.

Samuel's face was a mask of agony, his grip tightening on the dagger as Chores' body stiffened, blood seeping through the fabric of his clothes.

Cough

Chores coughed, his mouth forced closed as blood trickled down his nose as his hand shakily reached for the dagger, but Samuel's hand shot out to stop him.

Chores, though his body weakened, still grasped onto the dagger with a mixture of desperation and defiance, wiping his blood onto Samuel's clean, now dirtied, hands.

"Forgive me."

Samuel only uttered those two words before he ripped the dagger out, an arc of blood following it.

Then, with a final, heart-wrenching push, he sent Chores' body tumbling off the edge of the cliff, towards the cold, dark waters of the bay below.

The silence that followed was thick, suffocating as everyone watched, their expressions ranging from satisfaction to indifference, as the figure of Chores disappeared into the abyss of the bay below.

Merlny, sitting in front of his orb, nodded slowly, a dark approval in his eyes as he observed the dagger's fatal strike into his heart as the length surely killed him.

"He passed." Merlyn's voice rang out, cold and final as Morgana first heaved out a sigh of relief, her posture easing as the others around her nodded in quiet approval.

"Come now, Samuel." Morgana beckoned, her voice soft yet commanding as she took a few steps toward him, her eyes scanning the blood that stained his clothes.

She reached out, her hand caressing his face, attempting to warm the cold, pale expression that had taken root there.

"We must prepare," Morgana Frost whispered, gently pulling Samuel away from the sight of Chores tumbling down the cliff, his body disappearing into the river below.

Only then did Samuel turn his back, allowing Morgana Frost to guide him away, as Merlyn stood quietly, watching the entire scene unfold.

But it wasn't with acceptance but pity.

This whole ritual, this so-called sacrifice for a 'greater purpose' was nothing more than a sham.

A carefully crafted lie.

Merlyn didn't see these people as chosen warriors or noble martyrs.

He saw them for what they truly were: disposable pawns, engineered from birth to dwell in the shadows, never meant to bask in the light.

They weren't individuals with destinies; they were tools.

Tools to shape a world that bent to his will, his plan.

This was never about cultivating heroes, it was about manufacturing killers.

Merlyn needed operatives who could carry out the things he found beneath him, things he found tedious.

He needed people who could slit throats without hesitation, who could erase lives without a second thought, who could sever ties to their own humanity because, in truth, they had never been given one to begin with.

And that's what this ritual ensured, a breaking point, a test.

Those who flinched, who hesitated, who still clung to some shred of morality, they weren't failures.

They were simply human.

This entire thing wasn't an initiation into something greater, it was a condemnation, a silent decree that they would never have a place in the Holy Kingdom, never be welcomed into the golden halls of Avalon.

They were not knights, not chosen warriors of prophecy.

They were tools, minions.

Only those within Camelot, the ones Merlyn had carefully selected, propped up, and molded into his vision of purity, would see the golden light of promise.

Only they would know honor, glory, and the illusion of righteousness.

The rest?

They were forged for the dark and thus, discarded when the light would ensue.

Meanwhile In Otherworld,

"Yeah, I don't know, I wouldn't just completely wreck Camelot cause he threw a crab monster at my shores, I just wanna cap him to make sure he doesn't do it again." Ricky said, shaking his head at the two of them.

Although his intentions weren't simply to warn Merlyn, Ricky was resolved to kill him.

He knew all too well that leaving someone who had already attacked you would only bring more trouble down the line.

He'd learned that lesson the hard way from Dewey and Joe Bananas, both of whom had shown him the dangers of letting people who crossed him alive.

Although Ricky was petty and a bit cruel, he wasn't about to burn all of Avalon to the ground just because one guy was messing with his stuff.

He wasn't pushed that far, yet.

"Well, whatever the case, we'll find out along the way so let's get going." Ricky hopped to his feet, looking forward only for Morgana to once again try to wrap her claws around him.

"Ricky, there isn't a need to rush-"

"I don't wanna waste time, I just know that old man is doing something right now, I can just feel it, in my f*cking nuggets." Ricky said, impatience lining his voice as he literally felt something stirring within his balls.

"I understand that, but you still need to absorb these undead into your army." Morgana replied, her tone steady, though her eyes were sharp with the knowledge of what needed to be done.

"Morgana-"

"I assure you that once we cross this threshold, I will make my way towards the Citadel and come back for the siege," Morgana gently said, her voice calm yet firm, soothing Ricky's impatience.

"But bolstering your army against Camelot is paramount since even if Merlyn is giving you this power, it doesn't change the fact that he won't hand over his life, much less Camelot, without a fight," Morgana urged, Alexander nodding from the side as he agreed with this statement.

"Morgana is right Ricky, for the coming battle you need cannon fodder and-"

"Oh, can it. I know you just want more troops under your little newly created legion," Ricky scoffed, seeing through Alexander's whole act.

Ever since he had turned the Chimera over to his servant and started grafting human flesh onto it, Alexander had been almost drooling, fantasizing about what he could do with it.

"But is this not a perfect light infantry battalion for the legion?" Alexander hopped off Bucephalus, gesturing toward the mindless Chimera.

"Although they could not compare to my warbeasts of the past, they could easily disrupt formations and-"

"Alexander."

"Even now, I can visualize where I would put them-"

SIGH

"Yeah, he's gone." Ricky sighed, knowing that Alexander was lost in his own world, practically bouncing with excitement over the possibilities of using the Chimera to herd his forces in battle.

"Ricky, it's going to be alright." Morgana hummed, walking up behind him and resting her head on his shoulder. She wrapped her arms around his waist, holding him tightly.

"I promise." Morgana kissed the back of his ear, her fingers gently stroking his chin, but Ricky couldn't bring himself to fully believe her words.

Honestly, now that he thought about it, taking advice from someone who had been constantly bested by the very person he wanted to kill didn't seem all that reasonable.

Morgana was hot, sexy, and definitely boosted his powers, but as he thought more on it, he realized that she was only truly effective as a sub-commander, someone who could work under someone like Asteiron or Alexander, but not necessarily lead in the way he needed.

"Right now, you need to increase our-your army." Morgana immediately overstepped, causing Ricky to let out a long, drawn-out laugh.

Ricky immediately clutched the hands wrapped around his waist and slowly unhooked them, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Alright, let's get something clear."

"First of all, you're f*cking smoking, and even now, I'd prop you up against that tree and just go to town." Ricky said first as if it was the most important thing, giving her the dues that gorgeous body deserved

"But this, all of this, is mine." Ricky spread his hands, gesturing towards the coven, then to his undead, and even to Asterion.

Cough

"No offense Asterion-"

"None taken." Asterion waved it off, understanding what Ricky meant as he turned back to Morgana, crossing his arms.

"Listen, you're strong and I totally just want to use you in more ways than one, probably like six or seven just off the top of my head, but just 'cause we boned doesn't mean everything I have is ours." Ricky laughed, selfish and greedy to his core as he didn't even share a joint bank account with Lucky, let alone Morgana.

"Your sh*t is yours, and all of this is mine." Ricky proclaimed, drawing the very land between them with an actual line.

"You wanna share, fine, we can share, but that's after I trust you, 'cause I don't." Ricky revealed, looking directly at Morgana.

Despite their intimate moment, he knew the truth, they were just using each other.

Ricky used Morgana's body to gain power and Morgana used Ricky to get her claim to the throne, there was no love, at least, not yet, or at least, from what Ricky perceived it to be.

"I know what you're doing, and I get how obsessed you are with getting on Camelot's throne, but let's make one thing clear." Ricky's voice was cold, his eyes narrowing as they locked onto Morgana.

"I only asked one thing of you, not to fight my battles, not to use your army, but to make sure nothing happens to my family while I settle my differences with Merlyn." Ricky's eyes flared green, a clear warning that he wasn't about to be manipulated, not this time.

"And I swear to you, Morgana, if you don't keep your end of the deal, I won't keep mine." Ricky's voice was low, almost forbidding as his gaze hardened towards her.

"I'll f*cking throw you back into that castle and lock you away just like Merlyn did." Ricky was brutal with his words as he took a step forward, his stance commanding, the air around him thick with warning.

"Just 'cause I like sex, don't mean I'm some pushover because of it. Not anymore, not after getting literal handfuls of busty babes around my arms, you're just another one in the mix." Ricky's usual playfulness was gone, replaced by this cold, almost disdainful edge that was rarely seen from his usual lighthearted approach.

But in all honesty, Ricky wasn't afraid to show his hand now.

Ricky held the power, and Morgana needed him far more than he needed her and he wasn't afraid to show it.

Without their shared goal, she would become nothing but a liability, one he wouldn't hesitate to discard if she didn't hold up her end of the bargain.

Merlyn wasn't like Dracula, who remained unaware of Ricky's true identity.

Merlyn knew exactly who Ricky was in New York, and it wasn't difficult to figure out the people close to him because of it.

It all built up as the constant threats, the near misses, and that haunting vision of his family's graves were slowly pushing him to the brink.

These words, this worry, reiterated over and over again, because the memory continued to corse this his mind.

Over and over again.

Ricky couldn't physically be in two places at once, but Morgana could, and that's why he always emphasized this point.

Merlyn had made Ricky realize just how weak his defenses were and unlike Camelot, New York was a sprawling, metropolitan mess.

Ricky couldn't fathom fighting a horde in such an environment, how it might take days, maybe weeks, to fight through them all, with the city so crowded and chaotic.

It was nothing like a wide open clearing where battles could unfold with some semblance of order.

"That was quite hurtful," Morgana said, holding her hand to her face as if trying to fake sadness, but Ricky could see right through it, she wasn't fooling anyone.

"But watch your words," Morgana continued, her eyes glinting a sharp purple as she fixed her gaze on him, a dangerous edge creeping into her tone.

"I do not take kindly to be disrespected-"

"Me neither." Ricky waved his hand, stopping her subtle sleight that was about to bubble up to the surface.

"I ain't asking you to be my f*cking slave, I'm asking you to hold up the bargain you came to me for." Ricky leaned in slightly, his expression unwavering as he wasn't intimidated by her display of power, because it felt hollow to him since his danger sense didn't even twitch, not a single tingle.

"I get that you're strong, but you are forgetting that you're not strong enough, that's why I'm here." Ricky said with a finality, slowly backing up to look at Morgana who was so half-hearted since she didn't like to be relegated to such a task.

The real reason she resisted cooperating with such a menial task was simple: it felt insulting.

This wasn't about her joining him in battle or taking the lead.

No, it was about her being asked to monitor and report on his other family, his other women, keeping watch, making sure they were alright and to her, that was beneath her.

Or maybe it was jealousy; it hadn't been decided yet and couldn't be ascertained.

"Got it?" Ricky asked without asking, looking at Morgana who had no choice but to bow her regal pride and give into such a menial purpose.

"Yes," Morgana begrudgingly admitted, her left eye flashing with a spark of purple, revealing that she had been lying the entire time.

She could split her focus at the drop of a hat, and the power was clear for anyone to see.

Ricky opened his mouth, ready to say something cutting, something demeaning, but the sight of Asterion shaking his head from the side made him pause.

After a moment of reflection, he decided to swallow his frustration and listen to the advice and like a king, he would give in to his council, even if it grated on him.

Sigh

"Good." Ricky said, his voice heavy with resignation as he backed up, slicked his hair back with a swift motion, and silently accepted the situation.

"I have a question, Ricky." Asterion said, raising his hand as Ricky glanced over at him and pointed, as if calling on him.

"Shoot."

"Would it not be beneficial to not play into the threat-"

"I tried that, you probably missed it when you were off-.....doing whatever you do in your free time, but when we didn't, the dickwad sent a f*cking Chimera to my shores," Ricky said, looking at Asteiron who had been a little out of the loop as he slowly nodded.

"I see." Asterion rubbed his chin, understanding now as he tilted his head.

"So if you don't play into his game, he'll retaliate and send Chimera's-"

"To my front doorstep, yeah, it's a f*cking conundrum." Ricky muttered, pacing around while shaking his head.

"This blows."

To Ricky, it annoyed him that he was playing into his little game, his giant board game where he was being maneuvered like pieces.

"Fine, whatever, let's just keep rolling the dice," Ricky said, walking over to the wreckage only to see that Chuck had anticipated this already.

Already gathering a pile of corpses at his ready, Chuck was tearing off the human parts alongside the disgusted Boney, tossing them aside to avoid incurring the wrath of the coven.

But Ricky didn't even entertain the back-and-forth with Chuck about him not knowing what he was talking about. Instead, he simply held up his hand.

"Get up."

Ding

30 minutes later,

Outside the forest, on the boundary of the treeline, sat Boney begrudgingly in a criss-cross applesauce position, using a knife to carefully slice away at a human hand before tossing it into the growing pile.

"Stupid Chimera, no soul to devour," Boney muttered, his teeth clacking together in frustration.

The entire fight had been a setup for him to feast on the souls of his enemies, only to realize, too late, that Chimeras didn't have souls to consume.

They were just walking, living automobiles, and when Boney went to devour his first kill's soul, his mood was crushed by the harsh realization.

Throughout the rest of the fight, his desire to slaughter his master's enemies remained, but his bones just weren't in it.

Bam

"Will you stop moping around? You are abstaining me from witnessing our master's glorious plan unfold!" Chuck spat hatefully, his hand whipping out to smack Boney's head clean off.

The brute barely reacted, grumbling as he bent down, retrieved his skull, and placed it back onto his shoulders with a sluggish pout.

Chuck, meanwhile, continued carving away at the human remains of the slain chimeras, his pile towering five times higher than Boney's.

Chuck's movements were precise, almost reverent, each cut extracting not just flesh, but something deeper, something sacred.

"I just thought I would devour-" Boney's pout deepened, wanting to taste the sweetness of his victim's misery.

"How are you always so foolish?" Chuck interrupted, shaking his head in disgust as he paused, wiping the blood from his carving knife before finally looking at Boney.

"Do you not understand what this means?"

Boney tilted his head, the empty sockets of his skull reflecting nothing but confusion when gazing upon Chuck who was enlightened to such a degree that even the author of this very crappy fanfiction couldn't even comprehend.

Chuck exhaled sharply, exasperated beyond words as their master's will was unfolding before them, and yet Boney remained utterly blind to its grandeur.

How could Boney not understand?

To Chuck, it was almost surreal since it always felt like their master's will was bearing down upon them, and yet the brute stood there, tilting his head like a dog hearing a whistle beyond its range.

"Carving the human parts from the dead chimera isn't just about disposal," Chuck's jaw clenched as he hissed, jabbing a bony finger at his towering pile.

"It's refinement, efficiency, every piece we carve is a piece of our master's enemies stripped away, their souls efficiently siphoned as their suffering distilled into something greater." Chuck voiced beautifully, unable to put it into true words and yet, finding them anyways.

"I-I don't understand-"

"It is practice!" Chuck bared his teeth, stepping forward as he spat, his voice rising with righteous fury.

"To help us easily carve out the souls of our enemies and devour them, you buffoon!" Chuck revealed the glory behind Ricky's doing as Boney stiffened, his skull rattling slightly atop his spine.

His fingers curled tighter around the handle of his knife as he processed Chuck's words, or at least attempted to and then after a long heavy pause, he realized.

"Oh~" Boney said, understanding it like this as Chuck inhaled sharply, grinding his teeth.

"Oh? OH!?" Chuck threw his hands up in exasperation, wanting to strangle Boney but keep himself in control, slumping back to his pile and getting back to his master's glorious plan.

SIGH

"Master, why must I suffer with this fool?" Chuck muttered under his breath before returning to his own work, carving with far more purpose than his bumbling companion.

Boney quickly turned to his own pile, now determined to catch up, hacking away with an energy that was more reckless than refined as Chuck stared at him for a long moment before dragging a hand down his face.

"No, I mustn't question his glorious purpose, I must focus on his will." Chuck muttered, getting back to work as his pile was dragged away by the new undead added to Ricky's collection.

DING

Slowly, a Carrion Chimera arose at Ricky's will, or at least what Chuck thought of it, morphing into the same litter as its other comrades, stretching over the hills.

Exactly 969, fully armored in their brethren's flesh, moved around like the automated undead as they were now under Ricky's command as he sat there, gazing towards them all.

It would've been more since the total that stormed him was around 3500, but about half of them were killed beyond recognition.

Of that 1800, only the 969 had full bodies that Ricky wanted to use, while the others were transformed into armor.

At first, the process was slow, but by the time he started converting the hundredth, it became much, much easier

But the human remains were carefully cut off to please the coven members and stored in the coven's magical storage bag by Eldric, who would take them back to the coven to put everyone at ease.

Clap

"Alright, f*cking finally." Ricky said, clapping his hands together after what felt like an unnecessary amount of time spent waiting to move forward.

They hadn't even made it into the forest yet, stuck right at the entrance, pacing and growing impatient.

But now, at last, it was time to move.

"Coven, you ready?" Ricky asked, pointing towards Eldric, who had their coven coming to terms with the whole situation.

"Yes but-"

"Great, Morgana, are you ready?" Ricky then turned back to Morgana, pointing at her as she simply crossed her arms and looked to the side.

"Fantastic, Alexander are you ready-"

"I have never been more ready in my life." Alexander seriously spoke, his eyes blazing for the thralls of war as Ricky clapped his hands.

"And Asterion, are you ready!" Ricky said, happy to finally be moving forward again as Asterion smiled, happy he was happy.

"Of course." Asterion said, holding up his thumb and standing next to Lady Roma, who was trying to yell something at Ricky, only for her mouth to be bound.

It was sort of a trigger for Morgana to hear her voice, and every time she spoke, she would be punched across the face, resulting in Asterion saving the poor girl from any more brain damage by tying her mouth shut.

"Then let's just get on with it." Ricky said, walking forward as everyone marched behind him, stepping foot into the unknown domain ahead.

The trees around them seemed to pulse with an unnatural energy, their branches swaying gently despite the absence of wind.

It was a kind of beauty that almost felt wrong, too vibrant, too alive.

Everyone, except for Ricky and Alexander, seemed entranced by the unnatural beauty of the place.

The coven whispered in awe, their eyes wide with wonder at the spectacle of the vibrant trees and plants that lined their path.

They marveled at the colors, these surreal textures, and the way the light filtered just right through the canopy of beautiful trees, casting strange patterns on the ground.

Ricky, on the other hand, kept his eyes straight ahead, unfazed by the scenery.

Trees were just that, trees, he didn't see past the wonders and to him, it was all nothing more than a big ass obstacle that stopped him from just teleporting to Camelot.

Alexander, though, stood still for a moment, his gaze drifting upward as a strange sense of familiarity washed over him, like the forest had been a part of his past, a place he had known once but had long forgotten.

The feeling lingered, unsettling him more than the beauty around him.

There was something about the trees, something that pulled at his memory, something he couldn't quite place.

Ricky's makeshift army trudged deeper into the forest, the thick, almost suffocating atmosphere of the place closing in around them with every step.

The silence of the forest was heavy, broken only by the faint rustle of leaves but as the group moved forward, something was off.

Ricky, always alert, thinking some Chimera with an ugly face would jump out at him at any moment, so much so he was keeping The Ebony Blade unsheathed

The more Alexander stood there, confusion etched across his face, the deeper the realization began to sink in.

But it was too late.

The second Alexander's soul, his true, unfiltered life essence, crossed into the bounds of the forest, the very air seemed to pulse.

His life essence, like a special vibration on the strings of the universe, rippled outward, reverberating through the entire expanse of the forest.

It wasn't unusual for living beings to enter this forest.

The land had swallowed countless lives over the millennia, souls born and souls lost, their essences intertwined with the land in ways no one could truly comprehend.

Every living being carried life force within them, but Alexander's was different.

It was unique.

So much so that a being, long submerged in the bounds of nature itself, slowly stirred within the confines of an ancient groove of trees.

A being that had not seen the world through her eyes, but rather her senses and yet, for centuries had finally had the will to open them, but her eyelashes seemed to struggle against the weight of time.

Her form was almost human, yet impossibly intertwined with the very trees and vines that had grown around her, as if her essence had been absorbed by the forest itself.

Or, maybe, was the forest itself.

The struggle to open her eyes was evident; the roots and vines that had enshrouded her for so long snapped away.

Her body, once wholly integrated into the natural world, was now emerging, taking form once more.

It had been centuries since she had last felt the pull of the outside world as her eyes, though old and clouded with age, gleamed with a kind of ancient wisdom and a deep, aching yearning.

There was a look of remembrance in her gaze, an echo of something that she had hoped would come to pass but never thought would come to fruition as she had watched it fail time and time again.

But even then, with it the sight before her very divinity, her expression seemed to say she hadn't expected this moment to come, hadn't anticipated that her long slumber would end, that the world outside would call to her once more.

And yet, it had.

It's why her cracked lips slowly rose up and with it, her voice came, barely a whisper, as though the words had to travel through the leaves and wind before they reached anyone's ears.

"Alexander?"

The leaves whistled and rustled, softly carrying a name so beautiful and harmonious that it seemed to echo through the air, enchanting all who heard it.

"The f*ck?" Ricky furrowed his brows, his confusion deepening as he turned back to expect Alexander also confused only to see something entirely different.

The strong, unyielding general, who had always met challenges with confidence and no hesitation, now felt his heart sink into the pit of his stomach.

To Ricky's shock, the gerbil who had always stood tall and fearless was slowly starting to back away.

Just as they crossed the threshold of the forest, Alexander, usually so resolute, began to actually retreat.

Alexander's trauma slowly began to surface, manifesting as a dark, unrelenting force that seemed to press down on him.

Alexander fought to stand strong against it, but his mind was clearly weighed down by an unshakable shadow, one that seemed to grow with every passing moment.

Ricky, watching this unfold, gripped the ebony blade tighter as even though his danger sense didn't scream with urgency, he couldn't ignore the unsettling sight before him.

Alexander, usually so composed and unyielding, was reacting in a way Ricky had never seen before.

"Alexander." Ricky asked, his eyes scanning Alexander's still form with caution.

The hesitation in his voice wasn't just concern; it was a strange mix of suspicion and confusion, the way someone might approach a potential threat they couldn't fully comprehend.

"Yes Ricky?"

"Why do the trees know your name?" Ricky asked, trying to stay composed, but his eyes were darting around, his suspicion growing as the wind stirred the branches, carrying an eerie whisper.

"These aren't simply trees-" Alexander began, his voice strained, but before he could finish, a faint smile tugged at the woman's lips.

The ground beneath her cracked, the long-settled dirt and mud shifting as she took a step forward, breaking free from the stillness that had bound her for so long.

It felt as though she were approaching him through spirit, yet her physical form simply emerged from the grove.

"It is you~" The trees spoke for her, whispering as the leaves weaved together, a chorus in sync with the women's movements.

She moved closer, and with each step, the earth seemed to bend to her will, like the very forest recognized her presence that wasn't even there to begin with.

Alexander's eyes, the same ones that had stared down giants without flinching, shrank as the familiar weight of an old, lingering shadow slowly crept over him.

It was like a dark cloud that had always been there, silently hanging above him, waiting for the moment to reveal itself.

As the shadow took form, it loomed over him, pressing down with the same oppressive force that had haunted him for as long as he could remember, from the days of his childhood.

"Alexander of Macedonia, you have finally returned~" The trees beckoned, their leaves rustling as the voice seemed to come from every direction.

Ricky glanced around, confusion etching his face as the disembodied voice surrounded them.

Even Morgana, who was often unfazed, paused mid-fit, sensing something far beyond the usual magic at play since even Merlyn should have had no reach here.

The wind shifted, and the trees continued, their words laced with an eerie warmth that chilled Alexander to his core.

"Oh, how I've waited, for so long, for the fated reunion of your revival~" The trees murmured, the warmth of their tone clashing with the cold dread creeping into Alexander's veins.

It was a sight to behold, even for Ricky.

To him, to everyone, Alexander was always this larger-than-life, a figure of strength and confidence, wasn't of mere myth, but a mere human as well.

Ricky had never seen such a look on his face; fear, vulnerability, something rare and unspoken.

The realization hit him like a cold wind: the legend that had walked beside him in battles, the man who had led them with a burning fire in his heart, was now confronted with something he couldn't conquer.

It was weird.

In his mind, Ricky had thought that after gifting Alexander the legion, the past would be buried, that the grandiose display of power would sweep away any lingering shadows.

After all, Alexander had always prided himself on rising above, moving beyond.

But it seemed even Alexander couldn't escape the scars of his past, scars that hadn't even healed in death, leaving an unresolved wound that no army, no power could ever fix.

"Gaea." Alexander muttered under his breath, his disbelief palpable as he had unknowingly walked straight into her domain.

"What the f*ck is going on, anyone?" Ricky snapped, his gaze flicking between Asterion and Morgana.

Asterion raised his hands in confusion, knowing the familiarity in the mother goddess but never truly encountering her, and Morgana shook her head, utterly baffled.

"I-I didn't think it was real, that the story was real." Morgana whispered, looking around since she always thought it was one of Merlny's lies.

"This is so dumb." Ricky muttered under his breath, shaking his head at how Morgana was really just playing it out and not just getting to the point.

"Merlyn said he had a connection with the Mother Goddess Gaea and created this treeline, but I didn't think it was true," Morgana said, her voice faltering as her entire belief system, once built on a foundation of concrete truths and lies, now teetered on the edge of disbelief.

Snap

"Wait, wait, I remember now, he was-"

"My disciple~" The trees spoke, cutting Ricky off, their voice laced with a melodic tone as Ricky scowled, irritated at having the big revelation stolen from him.

"Thanks for that, didn't see that one coming." Ricky clapped his hands, giving the tree's his mock thanks for beating him to the punch.

"It is said that the mother goddess Gaea took Merlyn in as a disciple, but I assumed that was merely a story to legitimize his status as a priest within my tribe," Morgana whispered, her voice tinged with disbelief as she dug deeper into a backstory unknown to everyone except the two.

The trees merely chuckled at this tinge bit, their eerie resonance filling the air, as if they knew more than they let on.

"That is because it is, child," Gaea spoke, her voice smooth yet filled with an otherworldly weight.

"He is my disciple, but the essence of life holds no religion for there is no belief in the life that flows through us all." The tree's unknowingly gave way to the type of person Merlyn had always been, revealing a deeper connection and truth that no one had fully understood until now.

"What are you doing? Why are you here, being all creepy and stuff?" Ricky asked, spreading his arms out to the trees like some kind of madman, but only receiving a soft, amused chuckle in return.

"Why wouldn't I be connected to my own domain, in my creation?" Gaea's voice flowed through the forest, warm and unbothered.

"If anything, I should be the one questioning you." Gaea tone carried the weight of a stern mother, gently reprimanding him, which only deepened Ricky's frown.

"That's-.......that's actually a fair point." Ricky muttered, wiping his mouth and shifting the blame from an actual forest, to the person who should've told them in the first place.

"Aye, Morgana, what the hell?" Ricky immediately turned back to her, pushing the blame her way as she scrunched her brows in confusion.

"How could you not tell us that this b*tch created this place?" Ricky continued, referring to Gaea with an unforgiving vulgarity, the anger in his tone making it clear that something about the situation deeply annoyed him.

"Full offense." Ricky said towards Gaea, though instead of being insulted, she was rather amused by his brashness, her tone almost playful in response.

While Ricky had no personal history with a strange figure who spoke through trees, the way her mere presence and tone had rattled Alexander was enough to ignite a deep-seated dislike for her.

"I cannot account for all the blame, I thought Merlyn created Otherworld and merely spread out these half-truths and half-lies to confuse everyone around him!" Morgana said, flustered since how could she not be in such a state in the presence of the mother goddess responsible for all life essence in the world.

However, at her words, the trees echoed a soft simmering chuckle as if unable to believe the words that came out of her mouth.

"Merlyn acts as if he can create, but he knows nothing about the true beauty of life, only its hollow form." The trees chuckled, referring to the chimera's lifelessly standing at the side as Ricky side-eyed them.

"Well, I agree with ya there," Ricky muttered, knowing that if he was a monster, then Merlyn was a freak.

"So, let me guess, you're here to stop us," Ricky said, sighing as he readied himself, only to hear a chuckle in response.

"Why would I stop you?" The tree's curiously pondered, genuinely confused at such a train of thought as if it wasn't obvious that a master should protect their once disciple.

"Uh, because I am probably gonna kill Merlyn." Ricky truthfully said, unabashedly proclaiming his intentions as the tree hummed at such a thought.

"I see, well, good luck."

"...."

"Are you not gonna, you know, stop us?" Ricky asked again, surprised since he thought they were about to be thrown down and he was going to fight some forest only to hear an even more confused response.

"But why would I?" The tree's reiterated, unable to see the logic even after Ricky explained it again.

"I cannot stop life from dying, that is its beauty after all." The tree's explained, knowing it would be hypocritical to prolong something that was designed to die.

"Life buds, it blooms, it wilts, it dies, and the process repeats endlessly, even I will die one day." The tree's continued, acknowledging that even the mother goddess would one day die.

"I merely spoke to greet a former friend-"

SPLAT

To everyone's shock, even the forest had rumbled slightly at it, but Alexander drove his tiny spear into his hand.

The sharp pain jolted him out of his fear, and then, unrelenting, his anger surged forward like a famished tide, overwhelming him.

"Do not speak as if you are my comrade, you are nothing of the sort!" Alexander proclaimed, huffing out his disdain, building up his courage that surged forth like the golden energy that spiraled around him when he used his adornment skills.

"You are merely a conniving witch who whispers spells that tempt men and women alike." Alexander spat, wiping his blood on his fur as if to remember his weakness and look upon it if that fear ever rose back into his heart.

"Do not listen to her words, they are filled with a hollow warmth, do not be fooled, even her love is but a placated lie." Alexander said, his voice steady but heavy with the weight of his past as he found himself standing amidst the wreckage of everything he had buried, pulling it out to face this woman once again.

"Fair enough." Ricky nodded, believing every word of Alexander and even if he cared to check with his lie detection skill, it would still be the cold hard truth.

Clap

"Alright, everyone, stop listening to the talking tree's and keep moving." Ricky clapped, the sound jarring everyone towards him as he got ahold of everyone's attention.

"Child, you truly do not believe-"

"First off, if there's anyone who doesn't have a reason to lie, it's Alexander." Ricky said as a matter of factly, marching forward as everyone weirdly followed, except Alexander who slowly beckoned Bucepahlus forward, walking side by side with Ricky.

"And second, if Alexander says you're a b*tch, you're probably, without a doubt, a b*tch." Ricky's logic was so illogical and yet, air tight as Alexander never had any reason to lie to him.

Sure, Ricky had his own history, his own tragedies that he kept to himself, but never had Alexander shown himself to be anything but trustworthy as he had always been a solid presence, never leading Ricky astray.

So, until proven otherwise, Ricky trusted him wholeheartedly.

"What a peculiar fellow you've managed to befriend," The trees commented, their voice trailing through the air as they continued their slow, haunting march through the thin-spanning trunks.

"It's too bad he'll end up like all the others, in time."

The words echoed with a chilling finality, as if they already knew the inevitable fate awaiting everyone who stood by Alexander's side, including Ricky.

"This time it will be different, this time, I will be different." Alexander said as if it was a vow, resolving himself to change the course of fate.

"Oh, I hope so, but as you know, hope is that of faith, not fate." The trees swarmed them all, their voices no longer filled with warm chuckles but rather the thralls of mockery.

"Aye, tree lady, are you gonna start some sh*t or-"

"No, I have a feeling that you will come to me in due time." The tree's chuckled with a sense of foreboding, those words making Ricky annoyed and Alexander vigilant.

Instead of lingering any longer, the trees suddenly quieted down, leaving the mystery hanging in the air, but a pungent fragrance of rage swirled around the tiny gerbil.

Alexander had done the one thing he hadn't been able to do in the past: confront her.

And yet, even now, that whisper echoed through his mind, sending a wave of dread through him, as if he had been conditioned from childhood to fear it.

"Hey, you alright?" Ricky asked, side-eyeing Alexander and pondering towards the gerbil who stewed in his own rage.

"I am fine." Alexander said, becoming deathly silent as the words of Alexander slowly echoed within his mind when he was at his lowest point all the way back at the cave of regrets.

"You know, a really cool guy once said to me, 'Right now you have a decision to make. Are you a man perpetually looking back at what he lost, or a man looking forward, to what he might become?'" Ricky smiled widely, reiterating the words that had stuck with him from so long ago as the gerbil wanted to glare but literally couldn't, letting out a soft chuckle.

"I didn't think those words would come back to bite me."

"Well, you said them to me, and I'm just so f*cking petty." Ricky laughed, nudging the gerbil as Alexander smiled slightly, looking down as Bucephalus slowly clopped forward.

"Alexander, what's going on?" Ricky finally asked, having been patient this entire time and finally deciding to be the first one to ask.

Sigh

"I knew Gaea, long, long ago." Alexander reminisced with a sad smile, remembering his past.

"Well, how'd you come to know her?" Ricky asked, taking on the supportive role instead of the one who always needed to have his ass wiped.

"I came to know all the patron Greek gods one way or another." Alexander subtly bragged, his exploits prompting a meeting with all the Greek gods at some point.

"My father, Philip of Macedonia, had an ongoing vendetta with them, but although I wanted to hate them, to carry on the torch that was my father's hate, how could I hate such divine beings?" Alexander asked this as a question, since it seemed only reasonable for a man so young to gaze up and idolize godly beings.

"We both symbolized the Greek empire, through unity and belief." Alexander passionately spoke from the depths of his heart, pouring out what he truly believed when he first set out with his army.

"Through my conquest, my reign, I've met them all be it Zeus, Ares, Hera, but the first one I ever met." Alexander left the end of the sentence hanging, as if able to properly tell a story and always leaving people hanging on their every word.

"Was Gaea."

"Wait but, if you knew Gaea was such a steel clad b*tch, then why did you throw that fit back with the guy who almost killed Asterion-"

Snap

Snap

"F*ck, what was his name again?" Ricky asked, looking around for Asterion who smiled warmly.

"Theseus." Asterion chimed in, oblivious to the Greek gods and their whims.

In all honesty, Asterion had only ever interacted with demi-gods since the gods only ever saw him as a wild beast meant to prop up their bastards as heroes.

Asterion was really ignorant of the pantheon he originated from but even that was probably for the best, considering their track record.

"Yes, well, I think even back then, even I was in denial, always wishing to set out to prove that the gods were our benefactors," Alexander said, his voice laced with a deep, lingering regret.

"But I think my father was right to say they only treated us as mere toys, to play with as they pleased." Alexander voiced, as if finally understanding what his father meant all those centuries ago.

"I thought if I proved that a human could stand with the gods, they would respect me," Alexander continued, his voice quiet but heavy with the weight of his reflection.

"But I think they feared what I had become, what I symbolized as humanity and I died before I could truly see what I, what my growing armies, were capable of." Alexander ironically said, remembering what his father had said but realized it was a warning too late.

"I stood on my own and that is what they feared, that a human would be capable of such." Alexander said truthfully, his gaze distant, as if reliving the echoes of his past.

"Well how did you guys meet, did she like, try to kill you-"

"No, I met her through my mother, Olympias." Alexander explained, surprising Ricky with the reveal.

"Oh-......did she kill her or something?" Ricky asked, thinking that was the root of his whole revenge thing but Alexander lightly shook his head.

"No, my mother outlived even me." Alexander plainly said, surprising even Ricky who scrunched his brows.

"Damn, then what's the deal, did she use you as a dildo or something?" Ricky asked, watching Alexander downcast his gaze and slowly nod.

"In a way, she used us all."

Cough

"Not as a fornication tool might I add." Alexander said right as Ricky was about to high five him, only to frown at him not taking advantage of the situation.

"I didn't know at the time, but she was spinning whispers in my mother's ears, false words that drove her mad. No untrained mind can handle the stream of divine whispers; it grew into an obsession that wasn't hers, and it consumed her." Alexander revealed, knowing that by the time he had left for Kamar-Taj, Gaea most likely corrupted her mind to a point where it could not be redeemed.

"Both in mind and soul."

"It destroyed my family, and I was too consumed with my own resentment and hate to understand that until it was too late." Alexander sighed, thinking he had come to terms with this in the afterlife while in Elysian Fields but it seemed that it wasn't the case.

"After my father passed, I thought conquering Persia would make it right, but it only deepened the pit within my heart, like broken glass, blood endlessly pouring into it, only for it to leak out from the bottom." Alexander beautifully described it, trying to fill his broken glass repeatedly rather than fix the leaking hole.

Maybe this was why Alexander had always been so forthright with Ricky, trying to help him overcome his own past.

Perhaps it was therapeutic in a way, he got to help a young, troubled man who also struggled with a hidden past, a past that made it hard for him to grow.

Maybe, even now, Alexander was still stuck in the past.

We will never know.

"Deep." Ricky remarked, surprised at the maturity Alexander could show at times.

He hadn't expected the depth of it, especially when Alexander was so acutely self-aware of his own misgivings, far more than he was even now.

"Yes, very deep." Alexander sighed, his words immediately making Ricky want to make a 'that's what she said' joke but holding back with dear life.

"Only at the end of my life did I learn the truth of Gaea, and now, in this new life of mine, I've come to accept that the Greek gods weren't what I thought they were." Alexander said, his voice quiet but firm as he paused for a moment, his gaze distant as if reflecting on the weight of those words.

"If I had to give you advice based on my own failures, it would be this: never trust a god's words at face value." Alexander's words were resolute, staring Ricky dead in the eye as he gazed back at him with a raised eyebrow.

"They are never as simple as they might seem; their words are always laced with intentions that are not our own." Alexander spoke, seeking to etch every word into Ricky's brain as he slowly nodded at this before frowning.

"Are they all like that?" Ricky said since banging a goddess was literally on his bucket list.

"Unfortunately." Alexander and Asterion both sighed, shaking their heads, as they recognized how similar their experiences had been.

Alexander had only ever met the gods, while Asterion had only dealt with the demi-gods, yet in the end, they both shared the same bitter disappointment, they both kind of sucked.

"It's why, when I talk with Asterion, I'm surprised he belongs to such a pantheon." Alexander explained, gesturing toward the minotaur, who nodded in acknowledgment.

"Yes, well, although I've only met with them briefly, I can understand why I might come across that way, and I completely get it," Asterion understood completely, already living with this sort of zeal that came from being part of this religious sect.

"Geez, the greek pantheon seems so f*cked." Ricky relented, knowing how hard it was going to be to bring himself to bone a goddess, not really that hard.

Sigh

"You have no idea." Asterion and Alexander both said at the same time, laughing heartily as they slowly walked along all while six figures slowly approached the rolling hills located outside the trees.

Finally crossing the border with the heavy infantry of the Chimera army, six figures slowly emerged onto the hills.

"Remember what you need to do, Lancelot," Merlyn said, his voice tinged with annoyance as he struggled to peer into the forest while speaking through an orb at the knight's side.

The head knight, grotesque in form, dutifully nodded, revealing himself to be none other than the legendary Sir Lancelot.

"I shall carry out his will."

Author's Note: Sorry if my writing doesn't feel the same, ngl, I'm just not feeling it as of late. It's my bad but I don't know, I feel off my game in terms of writing and I feel like i'm just spending way more time pouring over them then necessary Idk.