"What must we do for you to return those souls?"
A faint divine light flickered in the Ancient One's eyes as she spoke. She was probing the authority of Death itself.
Probing an authority was perilous enough — walking a tightrope over an abyss. Even with the deterrence Bul-Kathos provided, such an act could still be seen as provocation. Death's face darkened visibly at the question.
"You seem to be after more than just an answer."
Death spoke without courtesy, her gaze sweeping once more toward the Mysterious Doctor standing off to the side.
In that instant, every Cyberman soul still struggling to cross the Impure Holy Flame froze mid-motion.
It is the rule of this world that the dead must go where Death decrees. For the Cybermen, stained by endless war and slaughter, Hell's pull was inevitable.
Yet Death's intent was to shepherd those souls into her own realm, nudging the world toward the shape she and her siblings desired.
"Bitch! Give me back my wife and daughters! Or take me with them!"
For the first time emotion cracked Frank's voice. Burning rage let him shrug off Death's suppression. In a flicker he stood before her, shotgun barrel jammed beneath her chin.
"Your soul is not protected by any bargain, Punisher."
Most of Death's patience had already eroded; her eyes turned hollow and terrible.
"You have broken the laws of life and death more than once already," Constantine cut in, rolling to his feet before Frank could speak again. "That alone proves this matter is negotiable."
Whether it was to shield his temporary teammate or because he had glimpsed something of Death's temperament and trusted himself to draw her attention exactly enough — it worked.
"At least tell him your terms. We have no wish to offend Death herself."
The Ancient One had already obtained what she sought.
Death's authority was not impartial, and Death now understood her intent. Further probing was unnecessary.
So the Ancient One followed the Punisher's lead.
"To defeat one Death, someone else must bear the rule of death for you… or—" Death's lips curved into a strange smile. "Never mind. A rather amusing idea just occurred to me."
As a member of the Genesis Gods, she was not individually their equal, yet understanding Bul-Kathos's aims was hardly difficult.
She simply had no intention of revealing to the Ancient One — or to Bul-Kathos — another way to overcome Death.
As for the Punisher… she had just happened to have acquired a new toy. Lending it out for her amusement would cost her nothing.
"Punisher, let us make a deal. I will give you the chance to bring your wife and daughters back — one week for every interesting soul you deliver to me. For your wife, one soul per week. For your daughters, two each."
As she spoke, the black ring on her finger split into two. Both gleamed with pitch-dark light.
"In exchange you become my servant. Please me, and when you finally die you may remain with your wife and daughters in my realm forever. Even eternal life alongside them is not impossible."
The newly born ring drifted down and settled lightly on Frank's shotgun barrel, swaying gently.
A chill tide of death flowed through the metal into Frank's hands. The weapon dulled, as though wrapped in mist, growing half-unreal.
Death could break the laws of life and death — because she was Death.
A delightful transaction. She lost nothing.
She was merely lending her freshly acquired toy to Frank.
She conveniently "forgot" about Jill. Under the onslaught of information, Frank forgot her too.
But Jill already carried Bul-Kathos's promise; the length of her life no longer mattered.
"Do you accept?"
Mockery touched Death's expression as she waited for Frank's answer.
Yet all her true attention rested on the Mysterious Doctor.
Her actions benefited herself and Eternity; Annihilation and Infinity would profit as well.
But for the Mysterious Doctor's world, this was naked plunder.
Eternity supported it. Infinity and Annihilation raised no objection.
The Living Tribunal disapproved — yet at this very moment he was locked in what might be an eternal standoff with Eternity.
If the Mysterious Doctor, bearer of the mantle "Child of Time," silently acquiesced, then his world would be forced to accept the Cybermen's presence.
One world scheming against another.
Ever since Merlin summoned the Mysterious Doctor, Eternity had been waiting for this exact moment.
Allowing Impure's resurrection without interference had been part of the same plan.
The fusion of two worlds was something they welcomed wholeheartedly — even if that world's arrival had been accidental.
Merlin summoning the Doctor had been another happy accident.
In raw power, Archangels and the Seven Demon Kings combined could never match the Genesis Gods.
Similar rank could not erase the gulf in strength.
The only being who could stand against them was Bul-Kathos, the one who stood outside all rules. Heroes bound by rules could never defeat gods; Mathias's power lingering in Bul-Kathos had already proven it.
Once the worlds fused, they would remain the supreme rulers above all.
"I accept," Frank growled, shotgun still leveled. "I'll bring you three souls a week at minimum. But how do I know which ones you'll find 'interesting'?"
"Wear the ring. It will tell you." Death smiled carelessly. "A hint: the Nephalem trials."
She did not mind exposing her plan.
The demon souls imprisoned in those trials were, to her, the same as Cyberman souls — nutrients to make this world more complete.
Frank was merely a spare pawn.
Entering the trials required Harrogath's permission, and Harrogath itself was a manifestation of authority — much like the utterly bewildered Mysterious Doctor standing nearby.
This little scheme would not drive Bul-Kathos to eternal war with her. Bul-Kathos was, after all, merely a great hero.
This world had birthed countless heroes; many could grow strong enough to force even Genesis Gods to take notice.
Bul-Kathos had simply been the first to reach that height.
"Well then, most esteemed Death," Constantine said with a wide, sincere grin, "would I perhaps qualify for a similar opportunity?"
If Mephisto had seen that expression he would immediately suspect a trap.
But Death had never dealt with Constantine personally. Even the tales she heard from souls in her realm she dismissed as beneath her notice.
The disdain of the mighty toward the weak — exactly how Mephisto once regarded Constantine.
"If you can entertain me," Death answered with a bewitching smile.
She had spoken those same words to Thanos long ago.
Constantine gave an understanding nod and took a few steps back, smile never wavering, handsome face radiating irresistible charm.
Tony swayed slightly, mind haunted by the skeletal visage Death had shown him moments earlier.
A vague unease took root.
His head suddenly throbbed as though flooded with information all at once — a sensation he hadn't felt since his early student days.
Cold sweat broke out across his skin.
"Well, my business here is finished. Time for me to leave."
Death turned lightly. On the far side of the rift every remaining Cyberman collapsed, lifeless.
During their conversation she had already harvested every soul she desired. The Mysterious Doctor's silence had been taken as consent.
Her goal was achieved.
Eternity, currently locked in confrontation with the Living Tribunal, had grown perceptibly stronger. Though still weaker than the Tribunal, that growth would accelerate once the Cyberman souls took root within him.
Gods cannot create what they do not comprehend — just as humanity could only dream of time machines before understanding time.
Creation from nothing is inherently unreasonable.
The Cybermen had become Eternity's newest specimen.
Cause for celebration.
"One last thing, Death," the Ancient One said with effort. "Who exactly chose me?"
Ever since her deeper communion with the Vishanti, she had sensed the uniqueness of her soul.
Yet it was not the Vishanti protecting her.
Beings of similar rank do not shelter one another's souls.
"You'll find out when you die."
Death spoke one sentence too many — enough for the Ancient One to guess.
"Oh, and next you'll be facing a different kind of existence. We have no interest in them, so… good luck."
With those parting words Death vanished.
Beyond the rift, tentacled Dalek silhouettes emerged in the distance.
"Demons!"
Rorschach roared at the grotesque shapes, demonic aura igniting his rage.
"Looks like Bul-Kathos isn't having an easy time," the Ancient One murmured.
A fusion of technology and demonkind. Attacks targeting the soul would no longer suffice.
But unlike the Cybermen, who adapted within minutes, the Daleks offered no such rapid evolution. Everyone present could unleash their full power without fear of the enemy acclimating.
A rare piece of good news.
Odin stood with his back to the others, expression grim.
An old man always knows slightly more than the young. He knew exactly who was shielding the Ancient One.
(The chapter ends)
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