"Then stand the fuck up!"
Sitting Bull, an old and respected man, awkwardly looked at the First Man. If it were any other white man, he'd have seen it as disrespect. But coming from the First Man, it seemed the case was genuine. Besides, who was he to be offended by a literal god's words?
"I… meant that my name is Sitting Bull, great First Man." Sitting Bull stood up from the boulder at last. "I came here because of a vision I had when I was a child. I didn't know what it meant back then, but I know now."
"Goddammit, you were snooping on me?" Marshall cursed. "What do you want?"
"Safety for my people. The American government is hunting us down. They want to confine us to areas they call reservations, often the least fertile lands. They're using their military to confine us and then make us dependent on them for rations."
Marshall was busy poking his ear instead. "And? Buddy, I've seen this shit rinse and repeat since you guys learned how to walk."
"The US government is encouraging the mass slaughter of buffalo, as plains' tribes survive on them for food, clothing, and tools. They're on the verge of being wiped out."
Finally, Marshall showed a deep frown. "Making a species go extinct just for existing? Hmm… Keep talking."
"The government is taking our children and putting them in boarding schools in the name of teaching them how to assimilate. They're forbidden to use their native languages, religion, and culture. Kill the Indian, save the man, they say. Their gold rush killed thousands of us. "
Marshall yawned and crossed his arms. "I'll ban hunting those cute buffalo. They're pretty and yummy. And you? Buddy, I'm not lifting a fart for you. The law of the jungle says strong assholes eat weak assholes. Civilisation is a myth. You apes haven't changed in a million years—still chest-beating chimps smashing each other for dirt.
"Egyptians did it, Romans did it, Greeks did it, Chinese did it, and it'll keep happening. You can't do shit. Your little skirmishes are pointless. And it's not like you natives are any good. You stab each other in your tribal pissing contests, bleed out like idiots—on my fucking land! I own this damn planet."
Sitting Bull looked down. Marshall's words were mean, but not lies. Tribal violence wasn't rare amongst them.
"I'm out." Marshall turned around. "Scram off my land or I'll erase you from existence. This ain't a freakin' soup kitchen. You losers had centuries to team up and fight back, but did you? Hell no. You lot kissed the invaders' asses, backstabbed your own, and then—surprise, surprise!—got exterminated yourself… Genius move, morons."
"What do we do then? Just die?" Sitting Bull asked, voice raised.
Marshall looked back once, laughing. "Pretty simple. Force the government to admit you're citizens with a vote, drag every damn tribe into the game, steamroll politics, vote together like a single body, win every damn round, and collect your prize. Or… just get wiped off the map."
"United?" Sitting Bull chuckled dejectedly. "That's as impossible as the sun rising in the west. To unite them… I'd need the Whitefire."
"What the fuck is that?" Marshall barked. "Don't look at me like I got that thing. I'm not some greasy wizard yanking rabbits outta my ass. But here, catch this, my pretty Ajak gave it to me. You only get one shot. Use it and boom, my sexy hologram pops in. Don't break it, I'll take it back."
Sitting Bull caught the small, disk-shaped metallic thing. It had a small button on top of it. He didn't really know what Marshall was saying. What was a hologram? He didn't know. But he reckoned it was a means to contact Marshall once.
"This… I…" Sitting Bull racked his brain. "If I can get them to meet and then summon you with this… there's a possibility they'd listen to you, First Man. You're the god of all mankind."
"Alright, stop kissing my ass. Scram, sho, get the hell off my dirt," Marshall said and jumped back on his raft and flew up. "And don't slaughter every last buffalo like some brain-dead pests."
Shwooo~
With that, Marshall was gone.
Thud!
Sitting Bull sat back on the boulder, letting out a loud exhale. He looked at the little metal device, his hand shaking.
"Chief! Are you unwell?"
Sitting Bull shook his head, waving his hand. "No… Just… Feels like I've died a thousand times speaking to the First Man. He's… a tough god to deal with."
"But he'll help us, won't he?"
"Only time will tell."
####
Marshall didn't even plan on helping anyone. He was doing it because it'd annoy the next guy sitting in the big flashy white house. He wasn't happy at all, even though he'd allowed some people to settle in his mammoth farm.
Besides, he was out to plan for his date with Hela, not fuck around with politics.
Soon, he arrived at the town created in his territory. The people there had turned out decent over the past few years. Dinosia didn't just send teachers; they also sent blue-collar job trainers. Hence, the town now looked beautiful, clean, polished, and well-maintained.
The roads were made of concrete, small streets were paved with stones, and buildings were all made of bricks, not wood. While Dinosia had already invented electricity, it wasn't allowed outside.
Of course, Marshall's statues were everywhere, even Marty's. There were fountains and gardens. The schools were filled with children studying. The average IQ of the population was too low compared to Dinosia, but they were better compared to the rest of the world.
"Gather all the cooks you've got!" Marshall ordered the leader of the town, William Still. "Time to test your skills."
####
Later that night,
"I'm about to burst." Marshall gawked; that was all he could do when the mother of his child appeared in front of him, dressed in a fashion he'd never seen before. Still all black, but her magical leathery clothes had turned into a black Grecian dress, leaving one side of her entire shoulder and neck bare, so milky and silky, and the long slit in the dress below revealed her leg all the way to her fleshy thigh.
She was a tall woman at seven feet, but she was still wearing dark heels. Her hair was silky and straight, draping her back. Her eyes were covered with that dark makeup as usual, and honestly, Marshall loved that.
"Dad!" Helvar shouted, technically ten years old, but he looked five still. Asgardians just grew young. "Dad, stop gawking, a fly went in your mouth!"
"Agk!" Marshall coughed, choked up. A fly did go into his mouth. "Jesus! You look gorgeous!"
Hela proudly raised her sharp chin. "I am aware."
"Damn right," Marshall replied, standing out like a caveman there still. He wasn't dressed up. Just his usual caveman attire, or perhaps it was called Viking attire. Whatever, he hadn't changed into anything different.
"Let's go."
Heck, he still had the same old wooden raft made from logs.
Hela hummed and walked. She stood up on the raft beside Marshall. She was taller than he; most men would have been overwhelmed. But Hela never found that in Marshall. Marshall was many things, but never an insecure man.
"Alright, buckle up, sugarplum, date night's about to get weird," Marshall barked and hurled the raft sky-high with his powerful telekinesis. "Dinner first, then chaos."
Hela spoke nothing the entire way. Arms crossed under her large bosom, she stood relaxedly, her one leg peeking out from the long slit at times, earning Marshall's heated attention. She smirked, seeing how easy he was to charm.
"Let me sing for you, Hela. Might be shitty, but it's the thought that counts," Marshall said, and started to sing. He was actually pretty decent; his voice was rough, masculine. "I just remember the damn lines, here it goes—Put your head on my shoulder. Hold me in your arms, baby. Squeeze me oh-so-tight. Show me that you love me too~ Put your lips next to mine, dear. Won't you kiss me once, baby? Just a kiss goodnight, maybe. You and I will fall in love…"
Actually impressed, Hela looked at the man.
An unaware smile formed on her lips, seeing him put effort into singing. So confident and proud he looked. Perhaps that was what made her choose him. He never forced her into staying; she stayed because she wanted to. The deal Odin had made had vanished long ago. She'd received her full powers back. Yet, she barely used them now.
Watching Marshall taught her something.
How to actually live like a god.
A god cares not about conquering. A god doesn't bother with small matters. A god does what pleases them, what relaxes them, and what makes them happy. Hence, there was no point in conquering anything. Sure, conquest was a challenge, a fun challenge. But after meeting Marshall, she knew she might beat everyone out there, but she couldn't beat Marshall. Her conquest was destined never to end.
"Put your head on my shoulder. Whisper in my ear, baby~"
Of all beings, she was the mother to a Midgardian's son. Was he even a Midgardian? She never got an answer.
However, it was also true that she was rather displeased by him. Hence, his attempt to take her on what he called a date. A concept foreign to her.
"There it is!" Marshall pointed.
___________________
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