“Grrr-puff!”

  "I know, hell, I didn’t see this madness coming either. I thought I'd lost the ability to feel this shit. These damn emotions… I'm a shit guy, Marty."

  It was just the morning after the revetion that Ange was pregnant. It was a strange event where he felt happy and guilty at the same time. When it happened with He, he was pleased because he could finally have a family.

  Now, he sat atop the highest mountain in Dinosia with Marty on his side, both staring at the sunrise. Marty had somehow sensed that his old friend was thinking of something, as rare as it was, the signs were easy for the old dinosaur to see.

  “Hnnn-umph”

  "What? I let He down, pal. And sure, I mean, I'm happy having kids with her. My brain’s a trash heap on fire, man, I gotta fix this. Can’t think for shit. Voices keep barking at me, one says, ‘go die.’ Cute. Like I haven’t tried. I made this rule, Marty, you can sleep around all you want, just make sure only He gets the baby trophies."

  “Tee-rawr!”

  "Lady Death? Oh, sweet bleeding fuckskulls, yeah, now you mention it. But it didn’t feel the same, not one cursed bit. My kid with her is an experiment. Probably gonna pop out a god with a weird complex. But Ange’s another thing entirely, like Helvar. And He… fuck, I get that damned pit in my gut over her. She's got no reason to stick around, but she does."

  Marty eyed his insane friend, a little surprised by that many coherent thoughts. He reckoned Marshall was really serious if he was bothering to face the agony of thinking so hard on a single thing.

  “Snorf-raa…” Marty voiced and patted Marshall's back with his big T-Rex tail since his arms were too small to reach down.

  "Yeah, buddy. Figured I’d park my ass here and wrestle with my brain for a bit."

  "Grawr?"

  "Ah, piss on this! Ain’t working worth a damn. Who the hell said staring at the sunrise alone fixes your brain? A load of poetic horseshit made by some horndog trying to crawl into a drenched pussy and call it romance. Hell with it, I’m done. Let’s go. Seed's already popped, gotta be responsible daddy now."

  Marty chuckled, a chuckle that would have scared any normal person to shit. "Whuff-pfft."

  "Hah! Yeah, daddy to my dies and kids, both."

  ####

  Around the same time, Odin opened his eye, a soft smile blooming on his face. He was still in Dinosia, resting in a grand bedroom with his dy. He was Odin, after all, and he saw everything.

  "Despite his odd ways and fws, Marshall is a good man," Odin said quietly, knowing Frigga was already watching him. "His mind troubles him, but he remembers his duty. Our daughters will be safe and content with him."

  Frigga smiled and scooted closer to her husband, hugging his frame. Ange was their daughter, after all. Frigga had given birth to her. "If he managed to soothe He, I’ve no doubt he can keep Ange content."

  "Our ancient friend is uneasy. Guilt stirs within him, knowing he sired a child with someone other than He."

  “Hah,” Frigga ughed under her breath. “It’s endearing, really. It will take him time to understand what it truly means to be a god. He still clings to Midgardian ways now and then. But with how he’s made, he’ll outlive He, Ange, you, me, and even his own children. A man like that cannot have only one mother to guide all his kin.”

  “I believe he knows that well enough,” Odin said, resting an arm around his wife. “He must find his own way through this. For ages beyond count, his only companion was his dear friend, Marty. Now, for the first time, he stands among family. In time, he will learn what that means.”

  "I hope that happens soon."

  "As do I, Frigga.'

  ####

  Blue side of the moon,

  Uatu the Watcher couldn't deny that he found entertainment in watching Marshall, the First Man, and possibly the being with the most potential in the entire universe. At one point, he personally wondered what would happen if he killed Marshall. Would he gain the ability to travel through time? Would it solve Marshall's mental degradation with his Cosmic Consciousness?

  Uatu had the answers that Marshall didn't. The reason why Marshall remained mentally degraded despite having inherited Odin, Zeus, and Chthon's vessels' bodily abilities was simple and tragic at the same time.

  After a hundred million years, Marshall's brain had deteriorated extremely, having rewritten itself countless times. And when he received Odin's physique, instead of being healed, the deterioration became permanent. If Marshall had instead received the physique of a creature with high body regeneration ability, things might have been different. Now, Uatu didn't know what could fix this man. Perhaps a Celestial's physique? But Celestials were aware of Marshall's ability and would never kill him. They feared him as much as he intrigued them.

  "I feel a strange kinship with him. As if he were a companion I have always known, though we have never met," Uatu thought as he watched the echoes of history. "His influence has altered the path of humankind. The Great War wanes, its horrors lessened, yet only deyed. When the next great conflict arrives, the wounds will be far worse. And when it does, this world will bleed beyond measure."

  Yet, Uatu moved his gaze to another part of the world. A meeting was taking pce between two beings on the verge of making a decision that would change yet another nexus of history.

  ####

  Humans were becoming technologically advanced. It was great for humans, but not so much for the secret society of Inhumans. The worry that their secret city might be found gnawed at members of the House of Agon.

  In search of a safer refuge where Inhumans could remain forever hidden, Bck Bolt set out in search of a suitable haven. But then he met Ikaris, an Eternal, and learned about Dinosia. Of course, he knew about Dinosia and First Man already, but it was the first time he found out that Dinosia now had Angels of Heven.

  Before, it was known that Dinosia accepted mutants with open arms. But mutants were still humans and didn't stand out that much. However, the Angels of Heven all had wings. And if even they were openly accepted, maybe…

  Bck Bolt wondered if Inhumans could come out of hiding entirely and live freely. Hence, to discuss the possibility, he flew straight to Dinosia. He had avoided First Man long enough; his ancestors had done the same.

  But perhaps it was now time to change the old ways.

  ####

  Dinosia, Temple of the First Man,

  Pop!

  "Fuck! Still love 'em, Ajak."

  Marshall’s lips let go of one of Ajak’s plush, marshmallowy tits with a wet pop, his face half-buried in the softest pillows he’d ever known. Her breasts were a goddamn cosmic wonder, yielding like silk under his greedy mouth. He felt that if he could drown in them, melt into their heat, he’d die a happy man.

  Their bodies were tangled, the air thick with lust.

  Marshall loomed over Ajak, his heavy frame pinning her to the bed. Her thighs spyed wide as his hips rocked with primal rhythm, cock buried deep, stretching her to the brim. The room shook with their fucking; loud, rough, a symphony of flesh against flesh.

  Pp! Pp! Pp!

  Marshall’s hips smmed into her, each thrust a wet, echoing cp that reverberated off the temple’s walls.

  Ajak’s cunt gripped him like a velvet vice, slick and scorching, her juices soaking his balls as he pounded into her relentlessly.

  “Ah ahhh ahhh!” Her moans spilled out, raw and desperate, matching his growls as they drowned in the obscene pleasure of their bodies colliding.

  Ajak’s fingers ruffled through his hair. Her long, powerful legs hooked around his back, heels digging into his spine, urging him deeper, harder, as if she could fuse their bodies into one. She didn’t just want him; she demanded every inch of his chaos. Her body was singing with every brutal thrust he gave her.

  Marshall couldn’t get enough of her tits. He dove back in, lips tching onto one swollen nipple, sucking hard, savoring the warm, squishy weight against his face. No milk, no ambrosia, just pure, soft flesh that molded around his mouth. He groaned into her skin, tongue swirling, teeth grazing, lost in the heaven of her curves.

  “Hell yeah!” With a manic grin, Marshall buried his face between her perfect breasts, motorboating with shameless glee.

  Her tits engulfed him, smothering his senses. His hips never slowed, thrusting with godlike force, each pump shaking the bed like an earthquake. The cps of their bodies mixed with the wet squelches of her drenched pussy, filling the chamber with a filthy chorus that could wake the gods.

  “Ooooooh! I… longed for this!” Ajak’s voice broke through her moans, her body trembling under his assault. Her hips rolled to meet his, eager and hungry. She lost herself in pleasure, her body needing more and more.

  “L-Let me turn-uuuh!” Ajak gasped, her words slurring with pleasure. Her body quaked, begging for a shift, a new angle to deepen the pleasure.

  Marshall, wild as he was, couldn’t resist. He grinned and released her, giving her room to move.

  “Go for it,” he growled, his cock twitching inside her as he pulled back just enough to let her move.

  Ajak turned with a dancer’s grace, her supple legs bending sensually, her body folding into a new position.

  On all fours now, her feather-soft ass rose like an offering, framing her dripping pussy, glistening and swollen with ravenous need. Her curves were a masterpiece of sin, every inch begging for his touch.

  PLAP!

  Marshall didn’t hesitate. He gripped her hips and rammed back into her tight, gripping cunt, her juices slicking his cock as he buried himself to the hilt. Her pussy clenched around him, pulling him in like it was starved for every inch he had.

  “Gimme your arms!” Marshall barked. He grabbed her wrists, yanking them back, pulling her body onto his throbbing cock.

  With her arms pinned back, Ajak’s body sagged, her chest dipping low, her ass higher. Her heavy breasts were dangling and swaying with every brutal thrust. She was a thick rag-doll in his hands, her back arching in blissful surrender as he stuffed her cunt full, her soaked walls pulsing around his iron-hard shaft. Her moans turned sharp, her body trembling under the onsught.

  “Fuck! The view… I’d sell the goddamn world for this!” Marshall roared, his eyes glued to her ass.

  Each thrust sent ripples through her round, plush cheeks, so soft they bounced like a spring bed under his hips. Her dusky bottom was a miracle. Impossibly cushiony, jiggling with every sm of his pelvis against her.

  Cp! Cp!

  He pumped harder, sweating hips spping against her perfect peach-like ass, watching it bounce and quiver, only to greedily push back into him for more.

  The sting of his feverish thrusts made her pussy clench tighter. Her asscheeks swayed with need, a hypnotic dance of flesh that drove him wilder.

  “Nnnmmmph… Coming!” Ajak’s cry tore through the room.

  Her body convulsed as a violent climax ripped through her. Her pussy clenched around Marshall’s cock like a molten fist, her walls spasming wildly as a hot, gushing squirt sprayed from her core, soaking his thighs and the sheets beneath. Her hands thrashed instinctively, straining against his grip on her wrists, every nerve screaming with raw bliss.

  Marshall didn’t let her colpse. With a feral grunt, he yanked her up, fttening her sweat-slicked back against his broad chest.

  Her wrists slipped free, but his hands were already on her, sliding forward to seize her heavy bosom. He fondled them roughly, fingers digging into their plush softness, pinching her nipples and tugging them greedily. Her breasts deformed under his grip, molding to his palms as he pulled, leaving them flushed and tender.

  “Ahhhhh~!” Ajak moaned a melodic wail, her body shuddering as another wave of pleasure crashed through her.

  Her nectar spurted again, a second, multiple, soul-shattering release. Her pussy flooded with heat that drowned Marshall’s cock. Her cries echoed off the temple walls, a song of ecstasy that made the air itself throb.

  Marshall growled, the tightening cmp of her drenched walls driving him wild. Her heat was a furnace, scorching him with every pulse. He sank his teeth into the curve of her neck, biting down before softening into hungry kisses. His tongue pped at the salty sweat on her skin, savoring the taste of her trembling body.

  Pp! Pp!

  His hips never stopped, pounding into her with relentless force. His own release was barreling closer, a searing pressure in his balls. Ajak was one woman he didn’t need to worry about knocking up; she was no mortal, after all. He’d already flooded her once in their four-hour marathon; this was the finale, and he could feel it building, inevitable and fierce.

  “Fuck! Fuck! My cock’s burning in there!”

  Marshall howled like a madman as her molten juices coated his shaft. He ughed through the pleasure, loving every second of her tight, dripping cunt squeezing him like it wanted to lock him in there.

  “Ung ughhh! Yes!” Ajak moaned.

  Her giggle was almost delirious, drunk on the overwhelming pleasure. The mess between her thick, soft thighs frothed and squelched, her juices mixing with his sweat, creating a filthy, wet symphony. She was lost in it, her body rocking back to meet his thrusts, her mind bnk with ecstasy.

  Ajak’s arm snaked back, fingers combing through his tangled hair as she turned her face to his. Her lips crashed against his, her kiss a starving thing that devoured him. Her tongue plunged into his mouth, tasting his spit, his heat, pulling him deeper into her.

  For thousands of years, they’d done this; fucking like the world was ending. What started as duty had long since become her addiction, a vital pulse in her eternal life. Marshall’s presence was more than a thrill; a tether to something human in her ageless existence. He was chaos, and she craved it.

  “Ummmh~” Ajak’s thoughts swirled as another climax loomed.

  His cock filled her perfectly, a searing rod of intimate flesh that made her feel alive. She slithered her tongue deeper into his mouth, drowning in his scent, his taste.

  Pp! Pp!

  Marshall’s hips kept their brutal rhythm, one hand hugging her soft belly, fingers sinking into her lush flesh, letting it spill between them. His other hand mauled her breasts, molding them until they flushed red as tomatoes, bruised and tender under his rough palm. Her pussy squelched louder with every sm of his cock.

  “I-hhh am…” Marshall mumbled into her mouth, “Gonna… ex-pload… mmmh!”

  His cock throbbed threateningly, the pressure in his balls unbearable, ready to unleash.

  “Hmm!” Ajak’s moan was loud, sensual, a siren’s call urging him to let go.

  She wanted it, craved the flood of his release, the ultimate sensation that made her forget her Eternal nature. This was the highlight of her long life, moments where she wasn’t a cosmic guardian but a woman drowning in pleasure.

  Marshall’s world narrowed to the heat of her cunt, the slick coil of her tongue around his, and the soft, bruised weight of her tits in his hands. With one final, bone-rattling thrust, he buried himself balls-deep, his cock pulsing as he exploded.

  A gooey, thick mess erupted from him, flooding her in heavy, hot spurts. His batter was a torrent, overflowing her tight pussy, leaking around the base of his cock, rolling down to coat his balls in sticky warmth. He kept pumping, spine tingling, balls twitching with every sensation, her walls milking him as he rutted through each burst. Their tongues tangled in a slick, messy dance.

  Ajak felt the tidal wave, his thick, molten seed swelling her insides, filling her core with heat that spread like wildfire.

  It felt like it reached a womb she didn’t have, a primal fullness that made her wonder, fleetingly, what mortal women felt in this moment. A spark of jealousy flickered, but it drowned in the bliss of his warmth, his cum sthered in her depths.

  She kissed him deeper, her body trembling as the sensation consumed her.

  Thud!

  Ajak colpsed face-first onto the bed, her body spent, trembling from the aftershocks.

  Marshall followed, his heavy frame draping over her like a hot, possessive quilt, his thick cock still buried deep in her pulsing cunt.

  He peppered her neck with zy, hungry kisses, his shaft iron-hard and ready for more as her plush ass circled gently, grinding against him, churning the thick, gooey mess he’d spilled inside her. The sensation was unreal, like swimming in warm, slick mud, her walls caressing every inch of him with sinful warmth.

  “Ummmh… Oh… Marshall,” Ajak purred, thick with satisfaction. “I’d love to remain here for days upon days. But I believe you have guests…”

  Her words trailed off, teasing, as she melted into the sheets, her body still humming.

  “Huh?” Marshall frowned, his lust-hazed mind snapping to attention.

  He sat up, still straddling the soft, fluffy backs of her thighs, his hands lingering on her curves. Her skin glistened with sweat and their mingled fluids, a sight that made his cock twitch.

  His eyes roamed lower, and with a wicked grin, he spread her thick asscheeks wide, exposing her cute, wrinkly little hole. He pulled his slick, cum-coated cock from her pussy, aligning it with that untouched ring, and started to push, slow and teasingly.

  Ajak’s fingers knuckled the bedsheets, a soft gasp escaping her as her body tensed, ready to take him in. But before he could break through…

  Knock! Knock!

  And that was when the knock on the door came. There really was a fucking guest.

  "That's it! I'm gonna kill 'em! Every damn time when I'm having fun! Every fucking time!"

  Marshall jumped off Ajak quickly, pulling out his white-painted cock. He grabbed a towel from the side and wrapped it around his waist before opening the door.

  "The world better be ending!"

  "Uh…" Logan frowned, gnced inside at the voluptuous woman smirking, lying sideways naked, elbow folded, head in hand. "Weird bat-like flying guy came from the sky. Said he's looking for you."

  "And? Tell him to wait."

  "Said he wants to bring his people to Dinosia."

  "Hm? For war?"

  "No idea." Logan shrugged and just walked away. He was just the bartender, after all.

  Marshall frowned and looked behind at the beautiful woman he wanted to pound until sunrise. But Dinosia was an experiment he was deeply invested in. Having flying fuckers breeding with the popution might create something absolutely awesome.

  "I'll be back in a minute. Don't go anywhere, Ajak. Still got your right tit to bite."

  "..."

  "Haha!" Ajak only ughed. She, for one, loved his eccentricities. He was so… human… so pure.

  ####

  This is absurd.

  Bck Bolt waited for the First Man to arrive. During that wait, he looked around at the massive terrace of the so-called temple of the First Man. It looked less like a temple and more like a noble's retreat. That massive pool, women in small clothes, pying in the water. These women had wings, each a beauty.

  "Sup, ddie."

  And then there was this boy, tall, who just walked past him with a nod of his head, naked mostly, and jumped into the pool. The women cheered at that for some reason. Next thing, the boy was jumping in the water like a dolphin.

  And then came the rge dinosaur. Surprisingly, there was an actual giant beach chair for the rge creature to sit on. Then a dozen or so Angels flew over and started painting the dinosaur in some sort of ointment.

  "..."

  Soon enough, a weird seven-foot-tall humanoid appeared with grey skin. He didn't look human. Wearing just shorts, he was muscur like a warrior but moved like a saint. He just sat down in the water. Some Angels tried to flirt with him, but he didn't move an inch. It was Apocalypse if he remembered correctly.

  Finally, there was He, the Goddess of Death, and a red-haired woman who seemed to be an Asgardian. He noticed their judging gaze but ignored them. He wasn't there to meet the Asgardians.

  That must be him.

  At st, he saw a tall blonde man walk towards him. For some reason, the First Man was dressed in a single towel wrapped around his waist. His expressions seemed annoyed.

  "What'd you want?"

  Unable to speak physically, Bck Bolt used telepathy.

  "Greetings, First Man of Dinosia. I am Bckagar Boltagon, king of Inhumans."

  "Tsk, shut it, Batman. Your first name's a fucking spelling hazard, a few wrong letters, and I'd be canceled on Twitter by blue-haired—Ah, shit, that doesn't exist yet. Anyway, what'd ya want? I was balls deep in the primest pussy and face deep in the softest tits the world has to offer. You'd better have a good reason for coming here."

  "..."

  Bck Bolt frowned, taken aback by the reaction.“I came seeking shelter for my people. The world moves forward faster each day. Sooner or ter, humanity will uncover Attin. I want to bring my people here, to Dinosia, where we can live without hiding.”

  "Right, so that's got your tits in a twist. Fine, screw it, bring your people. They best obey the ws and behave. Mess around, and I'm how you'll find out. We square? Now piss off, I'm diving back into a velvety soft pussy."

  "That is not all, First Man. You see, I’m the king of Inhumans. I am of the House of Agon, and they will wish to remain—"

  "Pause right there, bat-boy. I ain’t got patience for your shiny-crown rolepy. You pitch a tent in my Dinosia, you bleed and sweat like the rest of the circus. Mutants, Angels, humans, all slop in the same soup. They wed, rut, spawn, and dance their happy little life. Ain’t no thrones here. He’s sorta queen, sure, but she’s the Death Lady, and that’s paperwork more than royalty. Helvar’s the prin—ah, hell with it, no damn crown garbage, we good?"

  Bck Bolt halted for a moment, half his face hidden by his mask. "Then… I fear my people cannot settle here. I shall seek another pce. It was good meeting you, First M—"

  "Where'd you think you're going?"

  Right as Bck Bolt tried to fly away, he felt a tight grip on his ankles, keeping him from leaving. Looking down, he noticed two tentacles coming out of First Man's back and keeping him there.

  "You barge in, cock-block my peace, and think a cute little ‘Ah, my bad’ fixes it? Blow me sideways! You’re not going anywhere, batshit. You think you can just move? Bitch, I own the crust under your feet. You breathe ‘cause I allow it. And guess what? You’ve been squatting on my dirt rent-free, and that's a lot of back taxes."

  Bck Bolt frowned, never losing his regal demeanor. "You are making a mistake, First Man. I am not your enemy."

  "Damn right, you're a squatter! A fucking freeloader! A little bat that's sitting around to spread that coronavirus! I know it came outta your ass now."

  Bck Bolt had no idea what this man was rambling about. What virus? What bat?

  "First Man, let me go. My voice is not a threat you can bear. Protect your own and obey."

  "Oooooo! Look, I'm so scared, oh, I'mma shit my ass and wet my towel! Look, I'm shivering. Someone save me, oh no~! Yeah, don't work on me. You touch a single speck of hair of my people, I'll butcher you inhuman whatever thing, each one, I'll drag them on a human-sized cheese grater and kill slowly."

  "..."

  "What do you want, First Man?"

  "I don't take no. And once I say something, there ain't no going back. Your lot’s packing up and moving in with the Dinosians. You don’t get a damn vote. You bend, or I break you. Old tricks still work fine for toppling kings. The French had a real talent for it—messy, but charming."

  Bck Bolt took a fighting stance. "You will fight me to ensve my people?"

  "Nah, I'll gut you to free them from your royal ass and then resettle them here. Noble deed, I know."

  "It won't happen without a fight." Bck Bolt warned.

  "Hah! Bring. It. On!"

  Boom!

  ####

  Marshall didn't take chances. He flew as fast as he could, using all his abilities, Zeus, Odin, Firehair, and his own telekinesis combined. He flew so fast that a deafening sonic boom blew across Dinosia. Within a second, he was far high, a gigantic hole in the clouds visible. By the next second, he was in space.

  At that point, he had the batman in a chokehold, face-to-face. Since it was space, Marshall spoke telepathically as well.

  "Got any tricks?"

  Hah! Fucker's smirking.

  Marshall hoped for something amazing. Something worthy of killing him. It had been so long since he st died. He wanted something new now, something greater. Tentacles had gotten old, and Zeus' thunderbolt was trash.

  Finally, the creature Marshall decided to call batman opened his mouth and…

  The fuck?

  Marshall sensed an extremely violent sonic wave. Sure, it got annoying, but he just used his insane telekinesis powers given by the love of his eternal life, Firehair. He covered his ears, and that was it. No more annoying screams.

  Boom!

  Then Marshall felt an invisible force on his body. It tried to shred him to pieces, but it couldn't. Though, it did shred that towel covering him. That energy also created strange vibrations that made Marshall go hard again, although he didn't want to.

  "..."

  "That's it? Your special power is hollering loudly, and it makes men go hard? Bitch I've heard louder moans when I'm diving in pussies!"

  Batman frowned and roared once again.

  Ah, it's tingling.

  Marshall felt the energy radiating from the bastard's mouth. Though all it took was some extra use of telekinesis to cover himself in a psionic shield.

  "Christ alive, your breath stinks! The hell did you eat? Garlic-fvored donkey's ass?"

  And then the Batman screamed louder.

  Oh!

  Finally, Marshall felt something. Blood started oozing from every hole in his body. Tiny ripples of cuts appeared all over his nude skin. And it only made Marshall excited. Dying sucked. But growth was needed.

  "Fuck yeah! Louder, boy! Scream louder! You can do this!"

  Then Marshall felt a tingle in his heart, and he knew it was coming. Finally, death once again. So, he decided to just fuck it and removed all the shields he had created. He was surprised by how strong the bat's scream was. It affected the physical body of Odin. But again, he didn't have Odinforce, so the real Odin wouldn't be affected.

  He wasn't compining. Dying wasn’t amazing. He hated it. But he had to in case there was a slim chance it might better his chaos addict brain.

  "Yes! Yes, louder, boy! Kill me! Do it right now!"

  Finally, he could feel it. That oscilting energy ripped through his body and turned his organs into bloody paste. His brain turned into goo. His lungs into ruptured balloons. His kidneys into useless beans. His balls into… Well, they were just balls.

  But he had done it.

  Once again, willingly, or rather with desire, he had gotten himself killed by a fucker who just screamed very loudly. It was a hell of a thing to die with. He reckoned he could have saved himself if he had tried enough.

  But who wanted that?

  Pop!

  Just as he died, he was revived. Marshall found himself standing in the same spot, in the same position, his gripping hand clenching the bat's throat.

  "Hah! That was one weird death." Marshall tried to speak with his mouth and…

  Poof!

  "..."

  Bat's head spttered like a water balloon. Blood, brain matter, and skull pieces floated in space.

  "Ugh…" Marshall just stared at the missing head dumbly. "Fucker died by his own powers? Ain't you supposed to be immune to that?"

  Marshall really had no intention of killing him. Just beating him was enough. Maybe cripple him so he can't be the King anymore. But killing him was counterintuitive to bringing Inhumans to Dinosia. Why would they now follow a man who killed their King?

  "Hmmm… Gotta hide the evidence."

  He released the headless body and engulfed it in cosmic fmes, burning it to ash and then nothing.

  "I didn't ask him where his folks live!"

  Quickly, he dove back down to Earth. On the way, he practiced his new ability and made sure to suppress it so he wouldn't mistakenly blow up a city with his voice. When he nded on the temple, he walked over to the pool filled with winged Angels and, using his mind powers, floated Helvar out of the water.

  Helvar thought he was being smart. But Marshall knew what kind of man his son was. The little fucker was acting like a dolphin just to gaze at the fine asses that the Angels presented underwater.

  "Boy! I got a job for you." He nded Helvar in front of himself.

  Helvar became excited. "Finally! Just say it, Daddy!"

  "..."

  "Never use that word with me. Second, grow a fucking spine. Stare at those asses without hiding, stop diving into water. I raised no shy sissy," Marshall scolded, a lesson most men wouldn't teach their sons. "Anyway, I need you to go out and fly around the world. There's a secret community of superpowered people living somewhere, called Inhumans. You find them and report back to me. Remember, report to me, because you'll get your ass whooped, and then I'll have to massacre them all, or He might do it first."

  Thump!

  Helvar saluted and kicked his foot like a good soldier. "Aye, aye, Daddy! Looking at asses straight! Finding secret people! Understood!"

  "..."

  "Alright, shoo, piss off." Marshall spun around and stomped back into the temple, heading right back to the bedroom where he had left Ajak.

  ####

  TVA,

  "It's a mess!" Ravonna Rensyer shouted, staring at the screen. "Everything’s changed! But why isn't there a change in the sacred timeline?! What's happening?"

  "Maybe he's got the power of the plot," Mobius muttered.

  "That's nonsense! He has ruined the sacred timeline. Everything is wrong!"

  "Looks alright to me."

  "Mobius! I'm sanctioning a direct contact. You will go there and speak with him directly. Interview him since we can't kill him. I want answers! Real answers!"

  Mobius sighed and then shrugged. "Alright, I'll speak with the crazy human god."

  ####

  Mephisto's Realm,

  "Father, why are you so obsessed with him?"

  "Why? You ask why?" Mephisto boomed from his throne, eyes gring at his daughter, Mephista. "He's the one being I cannot influence, no matter what. And he was once a mere mortal. Look at him now!"

  "He's quite handsome."

  "..."

  "Such vile thoughts! He's a creature of darkness, darker than me, my daughter! If I have to hear that mind-numbing song once again—Sharks… baby sharks? Why baby sharks?!"

  "..."

  Mephista stared at her father with a questioning look. "Why not just kill him?"

  "Ah, yes, yes, I must… NOT kill him! He's an enigma, my girl! No, no, I must never kill him. That bastard will only grow stronger! Whatever kills him makes him stronger. Yes, by only entering his mind can I possess him. Yes, I shall—"

  "I can pay him a visit. I heard he likes women. Maybe I can seduce him."

  "You would do that for me?" Mephisto eyed his daughter with excitement.

  "I would, Father," Mephista replied, lying through her teeth. She was just interested in the First Man and found him handsome.

  "Hahaha!" Mephisto roared from his throne. "My daughter! I have faith in you."

  Mephista sighed. She had seen her father's decline into madness while trying to influence the First Man. She couldn't help but feel that it was her father being attacked, not the other way around.

  "I'll go prepare, Father."

  She did want to dress nicely for the man she was interested in, after all.

  ####

  Geneva, Switzernd, 1920,

  For some grand reason, the wise men of Europe and a few other nations came together to create a group called the League of Nations. It was mostly an initiative by the victors of the Great War.

  And for some very odd reason, the wise old farts decided it was wise to invite the First Man to come and inaugurate the League with his speech. Hence, on November 15th, 1920, Marshall arrived on his prehistoric raft with Marty at his side.

  Then, with the fsh of thousands of cameras, he spoke into the microphone that reverberated across the massive hall. Pens wrote down every word he uttered.

  "Well, hurray, you won! So proud of your lot. You killed another ape-looking guy just as yourself. Mmm… want me to kiss your cheeks and pat your heads too? You know, I’ve watched your kind since you couldn’t figure out which end of the stick burns, and you’ve been butchering each other even before that." Marshall scratched his ear, slouched against the podium, voice dripping with mockery.

  "Inbred archduke of some pussy-ass horseshit castle croaks, and now tens of thousands of farm boys gotta die? Talk about bloody priorities. Guess who’s dead, Alfred from the vilge. Guess who’s still breathing? The old fucking generals and the so-called lords. I say a w should force wars only if the sons of every noble and every government rat march first. Poof, suddenly there would be no wars, not a single one, I swear."

  Marshall didn't realize that by then the mic was already cut. Yet, he was naturally so loud that half of the hall heard him still. The journalists did, and that was what mattered.

  "Dinosia doesn’t do war. Folks there feast like gluttons, sleep like saints, study their asses off, break their backs in the fields, and ugh about it. No kings, no queens, no half-wit mustache clown crying because his fifth inbred cousin across the piss-river stole a spoonful of dirt. But what do I know? Tried thousands of bloody years ago, and you maggots still swing swords like angry toddlers.

  "Y'all bleed red but still kill each other like changing borders means changing pnets or some shit. Ugh, mind-numbing, come on, Marty. Half of them are rotten old fucks who won't make it to the next decade. Let them tongue each other's cock in a raging circlejerk.”

  Just like that, Marshall jumped on his raft and flew away, eastward.

  The old men in the hall felt like cucks; their own event turned into their humiliation. The mic was cut, but they all heard what he said. And most of all, the newspapers heard what he said.

  And without a doubt, the next day's papers came out with interesting headlines.

  "First Man Scolds! Inbred Royals Cause War!"

  "Inbred Royals Kill Young Boys! First Man Furious!"

  "Inbred Nobles Fight For Land! Young Boys Fight For Food!"

  "Dinosia Utopia! Europe An Inbred Chessboard!"

  Clearly, the newspapers just wanted to call their rulers inbreds with any excuse they got.

  ####

  1924, Kremlin,

  "Ah! Ah! Ah!"

  Squelch! Squelch!

  The table creaked. The wet sounds were endless. Marshall was hard at work, still alert not to kill the poor beauty with his godly thrust. And fuck, she was one beauty. He didn't know her that well; Hell, he just met her an hour ago. But when offered a god's cock, not many refused.

  Her name was Katerina, very typical for a Russian bombshell. She really was one: tall, slender, ripe tits, pale body, long blonde hair, blue eyes, pretty much future funny mustache guy's wet dream. In looks at least. And fuck, she was tight.

  She was one of Joseph Stalin's assistants. The guy had just taken office as the st Linen sheets or something guy had died.

  Pp! Pp!

  Marshall watched below as the beauty y spread on her back on the table, her long legs ft on his chest as she rammed balls deep in her mortal pussy. He watched her breasts jiggle, her face scrunched in pleasure, and wild moans.

  "Fuck! You better… keep your word!" Marshall roared, loving the sensations of her warm sheath. She was close, however, he could feel it.

  "Hah! I never go back on my word." Came the voice of a man from his right. He, too, was in the same state as Marshall, pants down, ramming in yet another blonde bombshell, her name Anastasia.

  Pp! Pp! Pp!

  "Oh! Daaa! Daaaaaa-aaah!" Katerina cried and erupted in an ethereal climax. She not just came, she squirted hard, gush after gush as Marshall kept ramming her snug tightness until he was on the verge, and with a victorious ughter, he squeezed out rivers of white stuff inside her. She was mortal and hence no risk.

  He kept fucking her, so hard into her and his orgasm that by the time he really pulled out, she had come a second time. She was a mess, half awake, legs shaking.

  He let her rest on the table and finally turned to the man who was sweating, frowning, unable to bring his beauty to completion.

  "You lost," Marshall said with a grin and grabbed a knife from the table. "Time to shave that mustache, Joseph. Bet's a bet."

  Joseph Vissarionovich Stalin, General Secretary of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, accepted his fate. He had made a strange bet with a god. He had lost.

  He was going to take it like a man.

  "Leave a stubble at least, my godly friend," Joseph said in a thick accent.

  "Dream on. I'm gonna leave you baby-faced."

  Joseph sighed and let him.

  ####

  USA, 1924,

  A very strange thing had happened.

  Uatu knew it. The TVA knew it. Something humongous had changed.

  The 30th President of the United States was supposed to be Calvin Coolidge. But that never happened. For some reason, Warren G. Harding, the 29th President, retreated from the re-election race after a young man named Theodore Roosevelt Jr., the son of the 26th President, Theodore Roosevelt, somehow unearthed Harding's extramarital affairs and other scandalous actions.

  Theodore Roosevelt Jr., a veteran of the Great War, was a Lieutenant Colonel before he stood for election. And somehow, he won with ease. Not only did his father's reputation help, but the nation's strange retionship with the First Man helped. Americans loved the First Man, but Congress hated him, or feared him.

  Theodore Roosevelt Jr. won because the people hoped he'd bring back the good old days of his father. And so, at just 37, Theodore Roosevelt Jr. became the 30th US President, the youngest in history, too young actually.

  And on the first day in his office, Theodore Roosevelt Jr. honored his now deceased father's wish. A regret that the old Teddy died with.

  "Bring it here." Theodore Roosevelt Jr. ordered the Library of Congress curator to bring the massive gss frame into the Oval Office and pce it on his table. It was his first day as the President, and this was his first action.

  "Crack it open."

  "Sir?!"

  "Do it."

  At the President's furious gaze and militaristic order, the old curator did as asked. But instead of breaking, he carefully opened the wooden casing and then removed the gss.

  Finally, Theodore walked closer to the rge piece of paper and, without ceremony, lifted it. And right there, under that page was a second page, just as rge, with almost the same content… almost.

  "This…!" the old curator gawked.

  A few dozen more people in that office stared.

  Theodore pulled that second paper out with even more care. "This… This is the true Decration of Independence, with First Man's name on it, and his message."

  The cat was finally out of the bag.

  ADVANCE CHAPTERS and Marshall X Raven/Mustique NSFW ART now up on and SUBSTAR