####
Europe, Warsaw,
"If we stand idle, he will string this world along like a puppet forever." Leonardo Da Vinci looked towards the other member.
Michel de Nostredame shook his head. "What can be done? The world is indeed his puppet. Apocalypse carved three canals, tying the world's trade together. Dinosia now rules the sea trade, and it will do so as long as the First Man draws breath."
"You don't foresee any solution?" asked Isaac Newton. "We are the Brotherhood of the Shield. We protect the Earth. The First Man may have been the first to live, but his dominion cannot remain unchecked. If none of you have an idea, then I'll suggest mine."
"And what do you propose?" asked Michelangelo.
"An alliance of convenience, nothing more. The First Man cannot be killed, but we can cast him into another dimension. I know of a woman—she bends magic, warps reality, even toys with time itself. She is imprisoned, but if we offer her freedom, she may choose to help us," Issac Newton suggested.
Leonardo da Vinci sighed. "I know who you speak of."
"No, no. Do not put your faith in her. She answers only to herself," Nostredame added.
"Then who else do we have?" Newton asked, voice sharp. "Morgan Le Fay can send the First Man away, cast him into a realm he won't return from. We can handle Morgan together. But the First Man? Not him."
In the end, they all looked at Michelangelo, the man who possessed Omnitemporality. Since the man was present in the past and future at the same time, he was the best bet to predict things.
"You know I cannot see the future related to the First Man. But I do see Morgan Le Fay supporting our cause."
"I knew she would! We have to try this," Isaac Newton said, rising. "This is our one chance. Leonardo has spent time in Dinosia. The First Man is a sex-crazed fool. Morgan Le Fay can lure him into her castle and banish him."
"All members who agree with this plan, raise your hands," Michelangelo called for a vote.
All hands were raised.
####
Blue Area of the Moon,
"Time. Space. Reality. It's more than a linear path. It's a prism of endless possibility. Where a single choice can branch out into infinite realities, creating alternate worlds from the ones you know. Each a reflection of what could have been. Some heroes will rise, others will fall. And nothing will be the same. I am the Watcher. I am lost. I am… confused."
The Watcher watched, and all he could do was watch. He watched for millions of years, and yet he couldn't make sense of anything. He traveled various realities already, and not once did he find another being like Marshall.
How did such a creature come to be? What was his origin? Uatu wanted to know. It was his obsession. An anxious little bone stuck in his throat, that wouldn't go down unless he knew everything about this strange, godly being.
"A child with Hela. Gaea's Man. First Man… Mysteries that even I cannot solve. I'll watch, I shall watch forever, no matter my desire to meet him. I can only watch—I am the Watcher."
####
Other than sex, what could a hundred-million-year-old man even do to pass the time? He fucked Ajak for a whole week, and then Thena for the following week. Even sex got boring at that point. Not the sex itself, but doing it with the same few women.
"That's it, Marty! You're doing great!" Marshall roared, covered in mud, while Marty was pulling a wooden plow, preparing the fields.
"That's it, perfect!"
To a bored man, even the smallest of things could be exciting.
And that was exactly why he was in Annam, the central region of what would one day be called Vietnam. With a straw hat on his head and a much bigger one on Marty's, they were in the middle of preparing the land to grow some rice.
Marshall was the god who had descended on that village. He'd been living there for a week now and had been gifted three beautiful ladies, even. They prayed to him, did God knows what ceremonies. He let them and just enjoyed his time. He'd landed there for no reason, but the villagers searched for some greater meaning.
He worked in the fields out of boredom. And the villagers saw it as the god blessing their lands.
"Faster, boy! You're a goddam T-Rex," Marshall roared.
They'd just reclaimed land from the forest and increased the village's rice fields by fifty times. Beautiful, wide, plain rice fields. That land increase itself was a boon enough to the villagers.
At that time, there was no such thing as Vietnam. The French were in the middle of fucking around, starting in the southern region. Some French fools did come to that village, but Marty's massive tail yeeted them into the sky so far they likely landed back at their headquarters in scraps of meat and bones.
Since then, the village became untouchable ground, as the French misunderstood Marshall's intentions. They marked the village as one of First Man's territories and left it alone. Once again, the villagers prayed to him and offered virgins. Marshall rejected them as their age were questionable.
Squelch!
Mud covered the two crazed immortal creatures. And they fucking loved it. Even Marty enjoyed it, getting dirty in all that mud. His massive feet, in truth, fucked up the fields more than fixed them. But Marshall fixed it behind him.
"Alright, time to plant the rice!"
Marshall had the full intention of growing the rice and harvesting it. And during that time, the village also ran out of adult virgins to offer. Marshall didn't care, but the villagers became anxious. The even weirder part for Marshall was how they brought a different woman each time.
When he asked why, he was dumbfounded. Turns out, each woman he unvirgined became a hot commodity in the marriage market there, and instantly got married. Heck, the woman received dowry from the man. Somehow, the villagers came to believe that all the women Marshall banged had blessed wombs.
It was fucked up.
But who was Marshall to give a damn? He was busy playing his one billion, nine hundred million, two-thousandths tic-tac-toe round.
"Bah! You lost again." Marshall howled. "That brings us to even."
Yes, Marty was really good at the game. Even Marshall was shocked.
"Wraaagh?"
"Another round? Sure."
It was late at night.
Marshall started setting up another game.
"Hm?"
But suddenly, he heard some whispers in his ear. It was distant, but feminine. Sweet. Charming. So inviting, like there was a woman on the other side with her legs spread for him.
"Mephisto? I've played these games before, you red ass fuckface! I know how to counter your bullshit! Baby Shark doo doo, doo doo doo doo. Baby Shark doo doo, doo doo doo doo~"
"..."
Marty dumbly sat there on his ass, looking at the curious case of retardation that was his father, or brother, or something.
"Hah! You ain't quitting?" Marshall jumped to his feet. "Who cares if you've got a sexy, gothic voice now? I know there ain't no pussy to dive in on that side. Ugh… fuck, I imagined something nasty. Fuck you, Mephisto! Baby Shark doo doo, doo doo doo doo. Baby Shark doo doo, doo doo doo doo."
"..."
Marty shook his head and lay down sideways while watching pure insanity unfold. It wasn't the first time this had happened.
Save me! Oh, hero… Come and save me and claim me. I'm yours… Mmmmh… Oh, First Man, free me from this castle?
"Fuck off, bitch ass! Who do you think I am? Shrek? There ain't no castle. There ain't no Rapunzle—fuck, would've loved pulling that hair—Grandma Shark doo doo, doo doo doo doo~"
Please… It's me… Your fated. Love, come and save me.
"Save your own damn red cunt! Get out of my fucking head! Run away doo doo, doo doo doo doo~!"
####
Somewhere in Britain, in an ancient, hidden castle, made all black with magical stones, dark clouds shrouded it at all times. For as far as one could see, not a soul dared to come closer to it. It was the dwelling of Morgan Le Fay, and also her prison. Merlin's imprisonment wasn't easy to remove; she could only use her astral form to gaze outside.
Like most, she was aware of the entity called the First Man. She was rather interested in the man. Magically, as well as biologically. But she never bothered to dwell on it. However, when offered freedom, she chose to aid the foolish men who'd come seeking her.
"What has twisted his mind so? Why claim I'm Mephisto? What vile act did he inflict upon this poor soul?"
Just a few million years of continuous seduction attempts—But Morgan Le Fay wasn't old enough to know that.
"My hero, hear me. Come to me and save me. I await you, chained and locked away in this castle."
At last, she saw some movement.
"This way… fly to me, my love. My arms await you. My body awaits your warmth."
Finally, she saw him flying towards her. So fast, soaring through the clouds. His face changed, so full of desire. So much hunger. So much lust that she herself had induced. The lust made her own body warm. Yet, her glossy black lips formed a dangerous, wide smile. Her pearly-white teeth in full display.
In the end, a man remains a man.
She smoothed her waist-long, silky, straight hair and fixed the golden diadem on her head. She made her attire sultry, a dark green, leathery gown that tightly clung to her curves, hips, and loosened around her ankles slightly, off-the-shoulder type, split centrally over her large bust, where laces tied them together, ensuring her heavy cleavage was visible. Her evening gloves came slightly above her elbows.
She knew she was alluring, six feet tall, born for sin, her face an aristocratic beauty of the highest order. Her green eyes meant to drown souls in them.
"Come, my love. Come… claim me. Claim your fated lover."
At last, she could see the First Man right above her castle. All she needed to do was wait for him to walk inside. The moment his feet would touch the hall before her, he would be sent to a dimension no less than a void of nothingness.
"Mmmmmh I can't wait Oh…."
She hugged herself like a vulnerable maiden.
"Nnnnnmmm… Come to me—What?!"
Yet something beyond her belief. Something outrageous happened.
___________________
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