4-6

I wasn't insane.

To imply insanity would be to mean that I was not in control of my mental faculties, and consequently, I was a bundle of indistinguishable instincts like some human personification of the Freudian Id. Gamer's Mind did well to prevent that I would not truly go insane, not have my mind shatter from stress or horrific realizations, and would instead, function optimally.

There would be no 'Why so serious?' questions coming anytime soon I'm afraid.

Instead, I had merely been struck with an epiphany. A realization as to the somewhat humorous situation I found myself, to the life I found myself, and to the world I found myself. It was hilarious, the level of danger inherent in it, the level of chaos and insanity –

It was just all too damned funny.

And now, I was in on the joke.

I had been trying too hard to make sense of this universe. To look at myself from the outside of it, to try and consider myself a spectator in the grand scheme of things. Except, I wasn't. As far as I knew, I had no magical plot armor in the form of a billion dollar suit or fancy alien genes that could absorb sunlight. I was in essence, the ruler and maker of my own destiny and fate in this bizarre world were gods looked on demurely at the actions of humans, like an amused parent would watch a child splatter paint all over their clothes.

Well fuck that.

Fuck it all. Everything about this entire situation and arrangement. Everything about this world that expected me to play by the rules and become subsumed under the universe, becoming nothing but background noise in the musical pitch of existence.

No. I was going to live in this world damn it. I was going to live.

This was a world where both heaven and hell were most likely real. I already knew that heaven was a pipedream, but when, if, the moment came when demons began to claw at my eternal soul and drag me to the lower depths, I would be prepared to go down laughing, I would be prepared, to give the middle finger to both the guys on top and the ones below, and I would be the one, ultimately, who would make them realize that it was a grave mistake to have allowed my existence on this god-forsaken universe.

"Zack honey… um…"

The sound of my name drew my attention, leading me to turn my gaze towards my mother. She stood, awkwardly, in her brassiere and a pair of boxer shorts, her blonde hair tied into a ponytail.

"You've been… cleaning rather… extensively."

I stared at the house, the small apartment to which I would call my residence of living from now to the nearest future. It was spotless. Tables were reflective, showing my own visage in their polished sheen. The floors shined as though someone had lathered olive oil on diamonds. The chairs produced a sheen that would easily be mistaken for the vibrant fur of a majestic animal in the wilderness. The kitchen area shone brightest, with the counter capable of imitating the squeaking noises of a mouse should one's finger be dragged atop the surface.

"Is something wrong with that?"

I needed to channel my anger and newfound determination somewhere. As it was, my body wasn't sexually mature, and hence, finding a sexual outlet was a moot point. There was no real form of physical training I could undergo for now, and considering my future plans for dabbling in magic, the physical training would be entirely redundant. Similarly, there was no napalm or Molotov Cocktails available for me to go out and blow shit up.

So, I worked with what I had. A wild, untamed frenzy of cleaning, with the goal of making every single square inch of the corporate hamster-box cubicle that was my home absolutely spotless.

"Well no, not really." She said, tentatively, before raising an eyebrow. "It's just – you go missing all day yesterday and now today you come back and start cleaning the entire apartment?"

I rose an eyebrow. I sincerely hoped she was not implying what I thought she was implying.

"I'm a year old."

"Ah – but one cannot ever be too young to start inviting girls."

Of course it was what she was implying. I rubbed my nose. Other than food, alcohol and money, the only other thing that seemed to be on my mother's mind was sex. Constantly. Repetitively. I could not count the number of times that I had heard her wake up in the middle of the night, when she thought I was fast asleep, and then make her way to the bathroom. The buzzing sound of her favorite tool and the gasps and moans would have given her away easily if her sloppy excuse for stealth hadn't. The woman would and could literally spend hours in there.

The only benefit however, was the fact that she had wizened up to the knowledge that I would not tolerate her 'entertaining' guests over here. I would make it incredibly awkward for all the parties involved by walking into the room with an empty popcorn bag, sitting down, and gesturing for them to continue.

After the first three times, she got the message.

"I'm cleaning the house to level up my Housekeeping skill. It's actually at Level Ten by the way. Tons of man hours tossed into it."

She rolled her eyes at me. "I just wish your 'respect mother' skill would level up along with it."

"It's locked unfortunately. The requirement states that I'd need a mother actually worthy of respect to unlock it."

Eva made an exaggerated clutch at her chest, and I, merely shook my head and ignored her dramatics. Of course, I had bluntly told her to her face that my life was a videogame with skills and stuff. And, just exactly with the same scenario about my reincarnation, she only gave me a blank stare and a large chortle, rubbing my head and calling me adorable.

Technically, I had never lied to my mother. Even when it was for her own good, I would generally use half-truths and misdirection than telling an explicit lie. It was not my fault if she did not choose to believe the truths I told her, however exotic and far-fetched it sounded.

"You know, I am kind of worried about how morbid your imagination is getting," she moved over to the couch, plopping unto it. "I mean, getting kidnapped by a pedophile cultist who wanted to mount you and drain your soul to fuel her magical powers in worship of an interdimensional demon? That's a little out there for you Zacky."

I shrugged.

"You forgot the part where I killed her by double jumping on the back of her head."

Eva rolled her eyes. "Like the Mario Brothers."

"Exactly like that. If you know, the Mario Brothers ever got an M-Rated game."

She sighed. "Somehow, I feel your obsession with adult content is slightly my fault."

I gave her a long, piercing stare.

"Okay, maybe more than just slightly."

The stare continued.

"Fine, fine, it's entirely my fault! Jeez! Stop with the staring already." She tossed a pillow in my direction, which I effortlessly dodged anime-style with a slight tilt of my head.

"You know, this was so not what I was expecting when I became a mother. I was expecting diapers and nappy changes and crying – not someone who makes me feel like a child in comparison."

I rolled my eyes. "I could always take a crap in my pants and suck off your nipples if it'd make you feel better."

"Er – no – actually, I'm good."

I blinked, before turning to her. "That's right – your breasts should technically still be capable of producing milk."

She gave me a weird look. "Yeeees? Why?"

Should I?

Shouldn't I?

Fuck it. I wanted to do it.

A large grin came on my face as I began making groping gestures with my hands.

"Milk time."

Eva gasped, covering her chest.

"You're not coming anywhere near my babies!"

"Woman," I said, deadpan "I am your baby."

"NOOOOO!"

It was a match which I knew that I could not truly win, with her being larger, bigger and stronger, but it was merely the fun of it which I enjoyed. It was utterly strange how I gained satisfaction from groping her breasts – even though my body could not gain any sexual satisfaction, and my mind knew that as long as we were biologically related, anything sexual was out, but I enjoyed grabbing the soft bags of flesh anyway, and listen to her squeal.

It was… fun.

It also helped remind me of what truly mattered.

"Haha! The nipples are mine! VICTORY!"

"Zack honey, I'm off to work!"

My mother, clad in her work clothes, which most people would consider a 'lack of' work clothes, kissed me on the cheek as she sauntered in her high-heels and short skirt towards the door.

It was there, bubbling at the back of my mind, with a triumphant rage like that of a wild and territorial black bear facing a silverback gorilla. The realization, that my mother would be ogled and watched by a bunch of men with boners in their pants, all eagerly licking their lips in order to have sex with her.

Gamer's Mind helped me in forcing it down and putting on a manageable smile.

It was only a matter of time. A matter of time before I changed that.

"I'd been trying to get you a babysitter but…"

I rolled my eyes. "…but we can't afford one anyway and you feel I'm smart enough to stay home on my own."

"Or you'd probably drive the babysitter to question their existence in the grand scheme of the universe."

"That too."

She smiled.

"Stay safe!"

"Shouldn't I be the one telling you that?"

She pouted her lips at me. "Well I'm not the child in our little relationship."

"The ratio of laundry done and meals cooked would disagree with that."

She coughed slightly, her gaze turning away. "Er…"

"Just be back by eight. Anything later and you'll be skipping breakfast."

She gaped at me.

"Zaaaackyyyy-booooo –"

"You'll be late." I said, waving "Now shush and be gone – I need to go pick up your discarded stockings and make the bedroom spotless again."

There was some light-hearted grumbling about obsessively-compulsive and bossy children that didn't have any real heat to it, and the door eventually closed with a silent click. I had waited, to assure with all certainty that she was gone for the evening, before I took in a deep breath.

"Codex Library – Entry: Homo Magi."

Codex Entry – Homo Magi

The Homo Magi are a race of humans who are bestowed with the capacity and the capability to perform great magical deeds and feats. This comes from their ancestry being part Atlantean, as their ancestors possessed the mystical powers and magic of the great civilization of Atlantis, although it should be noted that not all Atlantean's had this ability. After the initial fall and collapse of this civilization before its eventual re-establishment (Required Entry: Atlantis), numerous Atlanteans moved unto the mainland, wherein they married, interbred and reproduced with normal humans who were often unaware as to the exotic heritages of their partners. Through centuries and generations of evolution, the strong capacity for magic left in these long lined descendants eventually set them apart from regular humans who possessed no real affinity for the arcane. Hence, they became known as the Homo Magi.

The Homo Magi are capable of casting spells and using magic in means that would be unavailable to normal humans. Using artefacts, tomes, or items greatly doubles the strength of the Homo Magi's base magic, and they are also capable of casting without the need of a foci, simply by drawing forth from the pool of magic within them.

So I was special? Amusing. It was amusing, the way I felt that being a Homo Magi was no different than being a white-belied ant in a sea of termites. I mused over the information presented to me with a cursory and dismissive glance. Had this been years ago, or maybe even yesterday, I would have been soaking up the lore like a dry sponge in a succubus household during mating season. As it was however –

I really didn't give a shit.

The 'lore' of this world, was no less 'lore' as it was instead, an encyclopedia of things that were dangerous and capable of bringing my mortal peril. Demons, poltergeists, myths, folktales, strange glowy rocks – all of it would be a plot element or another that would have me encounter another one of the sociopathic individuals who believed vigilantism was a valid method of attaining peace. Or worse, the psychopathic ones who were created as a result of aforementioned beliefs.

Still it was information. Information was always useful in one way or another.

"Codex Library – Entry: The Arts of Magic."

Codex Entry – The Arts of Magic

Magic exists. It is real and differentiated from science or from any form of pseudoscience. That is to say, magic is not merely some form of advanced technological process which could be deciphered by beings possessing higher technological prowess. Magic supersedes all forms of laws and conventions, it possesses no rules nor natural place within the universe and is not bound by reality. Feasibly, magic has no limitations, and is generated from outside space and time to go against the fundamental structures of the universe. Magic is unexplainable, impenetrable, arcane, and it simply – is.

Hence, it is for this reason, that there is a burden or a great cost required of those who dabble into magic. The requirement may be physical, mental, or psychological – as magic does not give freely, and in exchange for turning the fundamental laws of the universe into a lump of clay, the user must pay this price.

Ah, here it was. The bullshit factor that usually existed as a means or plot element to prevent wielders of a certain power to use their powers to the fullest and be guilt-free about it. Devil Fruits had water, Tailed Beasts had the potential of going berserk, as did Visoreds – Vizards? – or you know, the Eight Gates and death. Shit, I used two Naruto references – needed an equalizer… er… damn, there was nothing.

Regardless, the point was that this 'price' I would no doubt have to pay would come at some great cost. Most people would brush it aside and say that they had nothing to lose, but I wasn't that stupid or naïve. Often times, it would ironically come back to bite me in the ass and have something to do with my mother, which, was the last thing I wanted to happen.

Bah! Enough of the warning labels!

Now, how exactly did I begin to molest reality like an unwilling schoolgirl?

I could almost picture Reality-chan with a red face, whilst black tentacles representing my magic began to encroach in on her.

I was not insane.

I wasn't.

Really.

Codex Information Updated!

Homo Magi –

As you have now unlocked the secret of your heritage, and now possess knowledge on the arcane, you can begin your journey into the world of the supernatural, by selecting the magical branch you wish to follow.

I rose my eyebrow.

Magical branches?

Codex Entry Unlocked: Magical Divisions

[You may only select one at this time.]

Ritual Magic: With the subcategories of Alchemy, Nature Magic, Blood Magic, Soul Magic and Necromancy, this branch of magic has often been outlawed, and is frowned upon by several in the magical community. Arguably amongst the strongest kind of magic available, ritual magic encompasses voodoo, blood sacrifices, and other ritualistic elements which directly draw power from the blood and souls of the creatures or people sacrificed. These can be used to greatly imbue the magician with strength, stamina, life-force, and enable greater magical power and might. The stronger the quality of the blood and/or soul of the individuals used, the more powerful this magic, and in turn, the caster.

Carnal Magic: Subcategories include Illusion Magic, Healing Magic, Pyromancy, Cryomancy and Telepathy. Fleshly consummation and sex is more than just a physical act, but can be seen as a joining of souls, bodies and energies. Hence, this branch of magic focuses on possessing numerous sexual partners willing or unwilling, from which, after intercourse, the magician drains a portion of their life-force and converts it into highly potent magical power for use. Essentially, humans, animals or any creature capable of sexual intercourse are living batteries to which Carnal Magic draws its energy. The more passionate and primal the sex, the greater the magical potency and power – however, those who the caster has copulated with, will be drained, physically, emotionally, and sexually, not unlike the unwitting prey of a vampire.

Patron Magic: Possessing as many subdivisions as there are deities, gods, beliefs and cosmic beings, Patron Magic enables the caster to gain access to far more powerful means of spellcasting by merely pledging their eternal soul to a god, deity, pantheon, religion, or cosmic being. Alternatively, making pacts with demons or angels will gain access to Patron magic, at the small price of your eternal soul and subservience to your benefactor.

Artifact Magic: A less powerful, but similarly less costly form of ritual magic, where rituals are replaced with artifacts of power or influence. Often not considered a 'true' form of magic, and often used by non-Homo Magi, this form of magic centers around the use of spell books, tomes, trinkets, and other magically imbued items in order to cast spells and perform various feats. Often considered one of the weakest forms of magic, except in rare cases where the Artifacts are (Legendary), in which, it can become the strongest.

Inverse Mantra Magic: [LOCKED] Requires: Level 25 or higher, Maxed Reputation with a member of the Zatara Magic Family.

Dimensional Magic: [LOCKED] Requires: Level 50 or higher, Knowledge and Access to alternate dimensions.

Chaos Magic: [LOCKED] Requires: Level 70 or higher, title of "Lord of Chaos"

Order Magic: [LOCKED] Requires: Level 70 or higher, title of "Lord of Order"

Cosmic Magic: [LOCKED] Requires: Level 100 or higher, title of 'Celestial Being'.

The Endless Magic: [LOCKED] Requires: ? ? ?

The Source Magic: [LOCKED] Requires: ? ? ?

The Presence Magic: [LOCKED] Requires: ? ? ?

Ignoring all of the locked options, particularly the last three which sent a shiver down my spine of which I could not tell was trepidation, excitement, or fear.

Or perhaps the phantom touches of an omnipotent, omnipresent, and omniscient being deciding I was worthy of amusing them.

Yeah… let it be said that I best not give the beings any reason to invest interest in me – if they already hadn't.

I was just… yeah… gonna ignore that.

Endless, Presence, Source… yup. Just ignoring that. There was nothing to see there. Nothing at all.

Gluing my eyes to the top of the list, I began to recount my available options as it was. Either to become an occultist serial killer, a sexual vampire, to forfeit my humanity and become a demon, or to sell my eternal soul to a god or higher being.

Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place.

I sighed.

The 'Artifact Magic' wasn't even a consideration for me, unless I somehow stumbled upon a rare treasure box containing legendary loot like I was Jack-fucking-Sparrow with an armada of leprechauns holding lucky coins, it was something that could not truly be used. The 'Patron Magic' didn't seem like such a bad idea, but, unfortunately, I was an individual who enjoyed freedom. Choosing that would mean forever listening to voices telling me what I could and couldn't do, what I should or shouldn't do, or forcing me to do what I did or didn't want to do. I'd become a glorified puppet for some higher being or figure, dancing around to the tunes without a choice, because, without them, I'd be powerless.

Yeah – fuck no.

The thought of having to 'rely' on others for strength was something I personally abhorred. It had been one of the reasons I had gotten into fights, after I brought up the obvious fact that Naru-Jesus relied far too much on the strengths of others, and without Kurama's help, he'd have died in the first five episodes. Had a problem you can't face? Call up the big guy – he's got your back. Thankfully, Jesuto got my respect when he actually fought and beat the fox in order to use said power.

Hence, if I wanted power, I wanted it to be achieved and attained on my own terms – with my own sweat and blood, and not handed to me down like a reluctant father paying child support. The "Ritual Magic" would be magic and power I would have gained through my own means, through dulling my sense of decency and morality as I sacrificed other human beings to advance myself forward – a 'survival of the fittest' scenario where the weak where gobbled up by the strong.

The Carnal Magic also worked along that same line, whereas the Artifact Magic would make me useless and powerless the second the artifacts were taken out of my hands. It would not be 'true' strength.

So, it came down to the battle between the two.

Ritual Magic, or Carnal Magic?

Murder and Mutilation, or Sexual harassment and assault?

Reality-chan came knocking.

Hmm… Reality-chan. Someone needed to anthropomorphize that asap just so I could literally give her the middle finger and slam my cock down her arse.

The Carnal Magic was an enticing concept, but not truly. The subdivisions displayed under it, ability to control fire, ice, water and illusions – none of that was special. How many people could control fire in this world? It was pyromaniac heaven here. How many people could control ice? Captain Freeze, Killer Cold, and Mr. Frost – and those were just the popular ones.

Even the option for telepathy was neither novel nor was it seemingly worth it, considering the vast number of heroes and villains who had trained their minds to become immune to such tricks. I could just picture trying to read Batman's mind and getting the equivalent of cable advertising static. The only real benefit to the Carnlan Magic would be the healing magic, but I felt that I would find a way to get around that.

Having sex all the time sounded great – but I could do that without having carnal magic. Eventually.

I hoped.

Er – hem. Instead, the Ritual Magic drew my attention. Necromancy, Soul Magic, Blood Magic, Nature Magic, and honest-to-god Alchemy.

I didn't know if this was the same sort of Alchemy used in my favorite series featuring two blond brothers, and my first ever desire to kill the worst father in history, but I didn't need to know. All I knew, was that at one point, I would be turning rocks into diamonds, and that said diamonds would be converted into the quid I would need to get out of the hellhole that was Gotham City.

You have selected the division – Ritual Magic.

Are you certain of this choice?

(Yes)

(No)

I slammed my hand on the response.

Warning – You will not be able to change this choice anytime in the foreseeable future.

Warning – Selecting this division may cause certain characters to react unfavorably with you.

Warning – Selecting this division may permanently bar your access to certain missions and quests.

Are you certain you wish to proceed?

(Yes)

(No)

Yeah, yeah. I get it – people will be offended. Jesus. Just get over with it already.

You have selected the Magical Division – Ritual Magic!

Your Magical Cost is ?

New Skill Trees Unlocked!

Alchemy Skill Tree

Beginner Alchemic Rituals (Passive) Lv. 1!

Beginner Alteration (Active) Lv. 1!

Beginner Conjuration (Active) Lv. 1!

Beginner Enchantment (Active) Lv. 1!

Nature Magic Skill Tree

Beginner Nature Rituals (Passive) Lv. 1!

Lesser Summon Grass (Active) Lv. 1!

Lesser Summon Pebbles (Active) Lv. 1!

Lesser Summon Leaves (Active) Lv. 1!

Lesser Summon Vines (Active) Lv. 1!

Beginner Animal Discourse (Active) Lv. 1!

Beginner Animal Manipulation (Active) Lv. 1!

Blood Magic Skill Tree

Beginner Blood Rituals (Passive) Lv. 1!

Lesser Blood Drain (Active) Lv. 1!

Soul Magic Skill Tree

Beginner Soul Rituals (Passive) Lv. 1!

Lesser Astral Projection (Active) Lv. 1!

Lesser Body Possession (Active) Lv. 1!

Lesser Voodoo (Active) Lv. 1!

Necromancy Skill Tree

Beginner Necromantic Rituals (Passive) Lv. 1!

Lesser Soul Drain (Active) Lv. 1!

Lesser Create Undead (Active) Lv. 1!

Lesser Reanimate Corpse (Active) Lv. 1!

Those were a lot of skills.

A lot.

It was not the realization of my ability to now turn reality into my moaning bitch that gave me pause or made me giddy, however, instead, it was the sudden charge of energy that completely swept me up. I could feel power humming softly on the fringes of my skin, roaring and screeching and begging to be unleashed towards the outskirts.

Due to embracing your magical heritage, your available Mana Points has significantly increased!

You now have 1000 Mana Points!

Note: Although certain spells require the conduit of magic from your mana in order to cast, this can however be bypassed, and you can cast spells endlessly without using Mana, via finding alternate means of power. Alternate means could include rituals, items and artefacts, or blood, souls and people.

Note: Spells are often especially effective if there is a foci involved. Additionally, the Mana cost is greatly reduced and the effectiveness is increased tenfold if the foci is a personal belonging or artefact or even biological matter (such as hair or nail clippings) of the intended target(s).

Huh. I suppose it made sense. I could not for the life of me remember a time when any magician in this world had failed to cast a spell because they lacked the Mana to do so – that would just be honestly embarrassing, like the magical equivalent of being unable to get it up. They could be lacking the power (size) or the means (tool), but never the Mana – which meant that they relied on external sources for their magic.

Phallic symbolism for magic aside, I already had plans to work around any 'limitations' imposed by magic, so that was not necessarily going to be an issue.

Still, with so many options now available to me, the most important question was simple.

Which one do I work on first?

I was a cheater.

"She said what? Oh no she didn't! Oh – she did? Oh she better not have!"

Ignoring the urge to roll my eyes at the trite dialogue that would not be out of place in the casting requirements of an ethnic stereotype, I shuddered at the night wind, and continued to stalk my new target/test subject.

The reason why I claimed to be a cheater, was due to one simple realization –

Every single one of my magical skills/spells were Imagination Skills.

Meaning, technically, any single one of them could be maxed out instantly under the right circumstances.

I wasn't an idiot, or at least, I did not believe myself to be one. Hence, I found myself standing on the balcony of the apartment complex opposite mine, staring into a room. On the inside, a teenage girl lay, unaware of my presence, eagerly chatting away on her phone in a manner with her legs swinging in the air like it had been rehearsed for Disney-teen drama. Tamara was her name, a sixteen year old high school student of Gargoyle High, the non-posh, non-rich, non-snobby counter to the elite and fashionable Gotham Academy.

As it was, I held no judicious ill will for Judy. I just did not care about her existence in one way or another. And unfortunately, the fact that she seemed both dull-witted and dim-minded for my purposes was just an extra tick mark in my reasons as to why I had picked her as my target. Hey – social Darwinism declared that it was merely survival of the fittest for the weak to be consumed by the strong and sucky as it was, that was the unforgiving nature of Gotham.

I took a potted plant from her window. It was a foci. A weak foci, but a foci no less. With that in mind, I turned my attention to the girl inside, drawing up my Mana and focusing.

"Lesser Body Possession."

To explain the sensation of your body losing all illusions of corporeality and your soul lunging forward at break neck speeds was almost impossible. It was almost as though someone had decided to slam you with the full force of a train a few seconds before reaching sexual orgasm. Painful in so many ways, but none more so than the deprived access to finishing.

I could the very instant I slammed my soul into her body –

And this was why I was a cheater.

The rules of Body Possession were simple – the stronger the will of the person being possessed, the harder the possession, and it was a dominant battle of minds and of willpower for the control of the body.

Except –

Gamer's Mind Activated.

Yeah… you can probably see where I'm going with this. Gamer's Mind had its sole purpose being to purge out any negative influences that could damage my mind or psyche. Unfortunately for poor Tamara, her consciousness and mind was considered a damaging force.

With a pitiable screech of horror and confusion, I could feel the weak and feeble consciousness of the girl forcefully get shoved into the deepest, darkest recesses and pits of her own mind as I immediately took and assumed full control of her body.

Lesser Body Possession has gone up by 1!

Lesser Body Possession has gone up by 1!

Lesser Body Possession has gone up by 1!

Lesser Body Possession has gone up by 1!

On and on it went, until finally –

Lesser Body Possession has been Maxed Out!

Lesser Body Possession has upgraded to Intermediate Body Possession!

And then –

Intermediate Body Possession has Maxed Out!

Intermediate Body Possession has been upgraded to Greater Body Possession!

Greater Body Possession has reached level 50!

BOO FUCKING YEAH BITCH!

I pumped my fist into the air and resisted the urge to begin doing victory dances.

Lesser Body Possession was meant to only work failingly on some lesser animals or beasts, or at best, work on babies and infants. Except, I had skipped ahead of the evolutionary ladder, and used the skill on a fully sentient teenager, albeit with laughable levels of willpower and mental prowess.

I blinked – Oh?

The skills evolution came with some rather nifty upgrades. Motor controls of the body was now included in the possession package, and there was no feeling of awkwardness that came with the sudden height boost and increased reach. Additionally, recollection of the person's last twenty-four hours prior to possession also became available to me, which just had so many interesting uses.

Still, the girl's body was a little bit stiff for my liking, and the absence of something between my legs was somewhat discomforting, but it was not a serious hindrance.

The two puffy balloons on my chest however, were.

I gave them a slight, experimental squeeze.

Was it wrong to be aroused by that?

Probably.

Did I care?

Not one bit.

Because they were boobies. And they were soft.

And… I was finally in a body that was mature enough to comprehend sexual arousal. Curiosity alongside with the blatant need to use this opportunity overcame me.

When else would I get to masturbate as a girl?

"Wait… is this gay?"

I paused.

"Fuck. Doesn't matter."

Panties to ankles. Fingers to crotch.

So that's what it feels like when women are aroused? Oh… yeah.

I am not insane.

No, really.

Believe me.

Greater Body Possession was so far the most overpowered tool in my entire arsenal.

Once I had finished doing my… 'business' with Tamara, I realized, that other than possessing the memories of her last twenty-four hours, I had also gotten her skills. Tamara was athletic, flexible and acrobatic. She was a cheerleader and a stereotypical 'alpha-bitch' and apparently possessed the Charisma to go with it. I supposed it made sense, because otherwise it would be really weird possessing an Olympic Distance Runner, only to discover that I panted and gasped in an attempt to run the four-minute-mile.

However, what made this power deadly, is what happens after the possession.

I detached my soul from that of the girl's body, watching as she plopped lifelessly to the ground, and immediately, I was assaulted with a wall of text.

From gaining an insight from a more experienced perspective, your Dexterity has gone up by 32!

From gaining an insight from a more experienced perspective, your Charisma has gone up by 20!

From gaining an insight from a more experienced perspective, your Strength has gone up by 10!

From gaining an insight from a more experienced perspective, your Vitality has gone up by 14!

From gaining an insight from a more experienced perspective, your Intelligence has gone up by 7!

You have gained the skill – Acrobatics!

Acrobatics (Active and Passive) Lv. 24

This skill grants you the ability to perform excellent gymnastic maneuvers, making you nimbler on your feet, and mitigating effects of recoil damage or Stagger status effects.

You have gained the skill – Cheerleading!

Cheerleading (Active) Lv. 72

This skill allows you to shout and cheer and boost the morale of your teammates and acquaintances, subsequently boosting their attack and defense.

You have gained the skill – Dancing!

Dancing (Active) Lv. 39

This skill allows you to dance. Higher levels include greater masteries of different dance styles, and an improved effect on seduction when dancing with women.

Skill – Housekeeping has gone up by 20!

Skill – Homestyle Cooking has gone up by 20!

I gained the abilities of the people I possessed after possessing their bodies. I retained the abilities even after I had left their bodies – which meant –

"Hello. Who are you?"

I froze, tilting my head to the side and almost cursing my stupidity for having just standing there in the girl's room. The realization of getting her skills and abilities had distracted me enough to fail to notice when the girl had roused from the possession. Considering the fact that she was, as it was, sitting in her room with her panties on the floor and a young stranger in her room – I could only guess the immediate reaction –

"How. Did you. Get in here. Little. Guy."

Which was most certainly not… that.

I blinked, turning to stare at the girl, and ignored the cold shiver that ran down my spine as I made eye contact. Her eyes… they…

They were blank.

Empty and soulless like a sheet of white paper dipped in cream paint. She was there, present, and clearly conscious and alive, but at the same time, it was like she wasn't. Like there was something seriously and completely wrong with her.

'Gamer Vision.'

Bitch Cheerleader

Tamara McClain

HP: 100/100

MP: 0/1

Level: 7

Age: 16

Race: Human

Affiliations: Gargoyle High School

Base of Operations: Gotham City

Alignment: Neutral

Occupation: N/A

Identity: Unknown

Citizenship: American

Status Effects:

(Partially Consumed Soul)

(Muted Soul)

That… could not be good.

Partially Consumed Soul: The soul of this individual has been partially drained and taken, as a result of a forced body possession, aspects of this individual's powers and abilities were transferred to a new host, and those powers and abilities were accompanied with a portion of the individual's soul.

Increases Effectiveness of: Soul Rituals, Soul Drain, Soul Theft, Body Possession, Voodoo

Muted Soul: The soul of this individual has been greatly suppressed and stripped of will and individuality. As a result, the individual's soul has been muted, all their characteristic behaviors and traits, emotions, feelings and passions have been heavily suppressed, leaving a blank slate on the soul on which nearly anything could be written.

Increases Effectiveness of: Soul Conditioning, Soul Bondage, Soul Slavery

I was leaping down the rabbit hole here. It was a slippery, extremely slippery slope, with the nagging sensation at the back of my mind telling me that going any further down this path would send me down a road of no return. Sure, it was one thing to possess a body for shits and giggles – read, masturbation – but it'd be a whole different thing entirely to completely rewrite someone's personality and essentially enslave their unwilling soul to mine.

Soul Possession was… well… dangerous.

I supposed it should have been obvious considering the fact that I was dealing with Soul Magic, which was clearly considered as dark magic, but still. I had a feeling that this had only happened because of the influence of Gamer's Mind which had forced the possession and effectively disregarded the girl's own soul as a foreign entity in her body.

Which probably meant that this would happen to every single person I ended up possessing – as Gamer's Mind would continue to detect their souls as foreign influences.

"Um. Who… are… you?"

I turned to the girl.

"I'm…" Should I? Shouldn't I? "Your master."

I waited.

"Oh." She said, simply. "Hello… master."

The devil was probably warming my seat up for me in hell right this instant.

Alright, let's look at the pros and the cons.

Pros – I could possess people, and after I possessed them, I could brainwash them into my forever willing minions, with their souls bound to mine.

Cons – If I possessed someone, and didn't want to brainwash them afterwards, I would effectively be leaving them as hollow, damaged husks of their previous selves with ne'er a shred of individuality or will – who would either end up dying horribly or manipulated and used by the people around them.

I rubbed my nose.

Pros – I could possess people. Hijack their bodies and do whatever I wanted with it, and I gained stats and new skills from each person I possessed.

Cons – I would technically be a slave-master.

… Wait… how was that a con again? Other than the pesky ethical or moral aspects of it – which I had decided that I would not let get in my way ever again –

I couldn't really see the cons.

"Well," I turned back to the girl. "Congratulations Tamara – you've officially become my first evil henchman."

"Oh." She said, plainly. "Yay."

I resisted the urge to shudder at the lifeless intonation.

Okay – how exactly did I do the whole – Soul Conditioning thing again? I could only handle this for so long.

Soul Magic Skill Tree Updated!

Soul Conditioning (Active) Lv. 1

This enables you to rewrite or train a blank or vacant soul in the manner that you wish or desire. You can set their fears, loves, hates, likes, dislikes, and choose their outlook on life as though you were creating a character to be tortured in the Sims. Feel free to go wild!

Was it just me, or was my Gamer interface learning sarcasm?

Soul Bondage (Active) Lv. 1

This allows you to basically chain a soul to yours and ensure control and domination of the bonded soul. Higher levels will enable you to use this ability to imprison ghosts, poltergeists or spirits inside weapons or objects, or to bind them to your will and use them as you so command. Should your soul perish or should you die, the bonded soul will also die, and likewise, should your soul get stronger and more powerful, so will the bonded soul.

Soul Slavery (Active and Passive) Lv. 1

Exactly what it says on the tin. This allows you to completely enslave the targeted soul to your whim. Unlike Soul Bondage however, Soul Slavery essentially compels the captured soul to obey and listen to your every command as though they were words spoken by the Saint Paul himself. Soul Slavery also passively ensures that the enslaved soul will begin to see you as their master, to the point of blind devotion where they would sever their limbs without question should you demand it of them.

Note: Using Soul Slavery on a ghost, spirit, or poltergeist is considered a great ignominy by numerous beings in the supernatural world, as you strip them from their rights to go to Heaven or Hell, and essentially make them your eternal puppets.

Important Note: Using Soul Slavery on a Demon or Angel is considered a hundred times worse, the height of humiliation and degradation, and will almost certainly guarantee you either extreme loathing or extreme fear.

So, Soul Bondage commanded the souls to do as I wished, but Soul Slavery compelled. Then, there was Soul Conditioning which was just a fanciful term for complete brainwashing, and there was the fact that I could enslave angels and demons or ghosts and spirits.

I turned my attention back to Tamara.

"Okay…" I swallowed. "Conditioning time."

It was simple enough, an idea which sprung to mind. Make her as close to 'me' as I could possibly get. If I could get one companion, just one, from whom I wouldn't have to hide the whole Gamer business, and who would understand where I was coming from, possessing similar though-processing – it would make my life a hell of a lot easier.

And of course, I was planning on cheating again – naturally.

I didn't have the time to wait to let the skill level up, so – it was time to use my imagination.

Soul Conditioning activated, and I could feel the options of the girl's soul, the ability to turn and twist it as though it were a dial on a setting. However, rather than turn and twist, I instead activated Greater Body Possession.

Partially.

The result, was my soul slamming into the girl for a brief second before returning back to my body. The goal of doing this was to successfully imprint my own soul into her body, and gain a secondary opinion and perspective of life, in the form of an older, sexier, different gendered Shadow Clone, with 16+ years of living and experience.

And then… I waited.

Soul Conditioning has gone up by 1!

Soul Conditioning has gone up by 1!

Soul Conditioning has gone up by 1!

Soul Conditioning has gone up by 1!

Sometimes, I fell in love with my own genius. I watched as the skill went up, and up and –

Soul Conditioning has been maxed out!

I grinned, wildly.

"It's alive! Aaaaliiiivveeee!"

Two of the strangest pair of icy blue eyes opened, and 'Tamara' gave me a coy smile.

"Aw, look at you – you're so cute with that little mask you've got put on your face."

I blinked. "Mask?"

She grinned. A terrifying grin. A cold grin. A grin that told me that something was very, very wrong.

"You think that going through life as though nothing truly matters, as though the entirety of it is a dumb joke with you being the butt of it is the way to go, don't you hon?"

She rose, her hand cupping my small chin.

"But I see it – oh, I see it clearly. Your mind can't break, it can't snap – you can't go insane from the realization that this is truly your reality – that this is your world. But – that isn't comforting is it? No – no – no! It's not comforting in the slightest! Instead… it's horrifying!"

She laughed, spinning around on the balls of her feet, and I unconsciously took a step back.

"You're trapped in an insane death world of gods, monsters and cosmic beings – you're trapped like a helpless damsel in a B-rated horror flick – and you've been stripped of your basic, simple right, to as much as scream."

She was clapping, clapping enthusiastically. Her eyes were wide, her smile was stretched, and her form was coiled and timid, brave and frightful all at the same time. It was a paradox and oxymoron of traits and features, of cowardice and courage, of madness and sanity – all of it, represented in the girl's expressions and movements.

This – this was me? This was what an imprint of my soul behaved like?

No. I wasn't crazy – I mean –

Then, all at once, it hit me.

She doesn't have Gamer's Mind.

"Tamara dear, is anything wrong?" A voice called out from another room.

She rolled her eyes, before sighing, and turning back to me.

"Ugh. My deadbeat parents. I can just hop up there and kill them if you want." She said with a smile, "It wouldn't take long – well, unless I really wanted to drag it out – oh! Oh! How bout I rape my mom while I'm at it? You can watch – she's a MILF, and would be right down your alley –"

It was a strange feeling, disgust. "No! No – don't do that."

She tilted her head. "No? Are you sure? Oh – that's right, you wouldn't get any pleasure out of it – your body being undeveloped and all. Ah – but I can still kill them right? Should I make it messy? They'd probably be useful for a blood ritual don't you think?"

Something had clearly gone wrong. There was no way this was anything close to what I was like. Even without Gamer's Mind. I wasn't insane.

I wasn't.

I wasn't.

"Oh? What's wrong? Come on master! Let's kill them! They don't matter after all! I mean, does anything here even matter?" she said in a sing-song voice, "Let's become gods! Enslave the universe! Turn Darkseid into your butler or go back in time and screw the Virgin Mary! I mean, with how fucked up this world is, it wouldn't be a surprise to discover that Jesus was some time traveler or extradimensional alien! Oh! Maybe both!"

I teetered back.

"Speaking of mothers and fucking, you're not still planning on doing that silly little mission helping that selfish bitch?"

I froze.

"What did you call her?"

She grinned, hopping on her bed and crossing her legs. "You know it, deep down, you've always known it. Eva – she doesn't care about you. Not really. She leaves you day after day to go slurp down dirty dicks and get wet from giving people boners. She drinks herself to stupor and comes back wasted, and you're there, cooking her meals, washing her semen stained undies, and giving her ego the reassurance that she's a good person, like a good, well-trained, pet."

"Shut up." I whispered, my voice almost inaudible to my own ears.

She laughed once more. "Come on! You're smarter than this! When last did she ask you how you were doing? When last did she even bother asking you to tell her about your day? Hell, does she even care about what you do in all the excess free time you have while she's out there experiencing bukkake no jutsu?"

"Shut. Up."

"It's not that she doesn't believe your bullshit truth excuses, and more that she doesn't want to. As long as you're there, re-assuring her that she isn't complete garbage, and as long as you're smart enough to make your way to the kitchen and whip up your own meals, she wouldn't even care if you told her that you were raping kittens for fun. Oh, no – she wouldn't, because she doesn't want her well-behaved pet to be anything but that."

"Shut. Up."

"You think getting a million dollars would suddenly make her become a better person? Really? You think she'd actually stop stripping and fucking and try to 'make something' out of her life? The same woman who left you starving in a crib for hours while some guy fucked her on the couch? The same person who often forgot to change your diapers because she was wasted as fuck? Hell – if not for those nifty powers, you'd be dead. Imagine that – picture it and let it sink in – you would be dead if you weren't a Gamer. This woman, who doesn't give a shit about you, who all but orchestrated your attempted murder, is the one person in the world you're living for? The one person you would do anything to please?"

A heavy scoff.

"And I'm the brainwashed one."

"SHUT THE FUCKING HELL UP!"

I didn't know when I lunged from my position. I didn't know when my feet had flown into the air, as I tackled the form of the girl to the ground, my fists slamming into her face in anger. Again, and again and again –

She laughed.

All she did, through it all, was laugh.

I didn't know how long it had been. All I could remember was the sound of taunting laughter coming from a girl's voice. The laughter was colder than anything I had felt before. Like serpents of ice had coiled into a vice grip around my chest. It was in contrast to the burning gorilla hands which I felt squeezing against my throat and preventing me from swallowing.

It was only when I got a notification for 500EXP that I came to my senses, and the stench and sight and sensations assaulted me.

From continuous repetitive action, a skill has been created!

Manslaughter (Active) Lv. 1

The ability to completely decimate your opponent in brutal, barbaric ways. The bloodier and gorier the kill, the more experience points you gain. Evolution of this skill will unlock the 'Style Points' System, which awards special bonuses for combos and your choice of decimation. This skill can also be used as a finisher – and it inflicts the [Stunned] [Horrified] and [Cowed] status effect on any nearby enemies or allies.

A small snicker wanted to escape my lips. A small one. But it died. Stillborn.

Would you like to dematerialize the vanquished foe, or harvest the corpse?

(Dematerialize)

(Harvest)

"Tamara, what the hell is going on! What's with all the nois –"

The woman who entered the room was probably in her mid-thirties. Probably. I didn't know. I didn't want to know. I didn't want her face to be burned into my memory. I didn't even try to look up to see her name or level. I didn't need – didn't want to know. To be reminded.

"For all it's worth, I'm sorry."

Her daughter's blood was literally on my hands, and it was more than enough to use as a foci.

Lesser Summon Vines did the work for me – thick, dark green vines appearing from the ceiling with a clear target in mind. They wrapped around the woman's mouth before she could let out a horrified scream, and I willed the image I wanted in my mind.

CRACK!

A sharp tug of two alternating vines in two opposite directions. The vines themselves weren't even that strong – they could be overcome and torn like silk cloth; but the woman was neither in the state of mind to do such, nor would she have had any way to react to the vines in time.

Manslaughter has gone up by three!

Lesser Summon Vines has gone up by four!

You have gained 250 Experience Points!

Title Unlocked: Murderer

The body dropped lifelessly to the ground, like someone had let go of a large bag of potatoes.

A cursory glance at my minimap indicated another red dot – the last member of the three member family. He was asleep – still peaceful in his bed, and for a second, I contemplated it. Contemplated sparing him. Contemplated that he was not a witness, and that there was no real reason to take his life as well.

Then, I realized that it was the small mercies like this, which drove men to either become great heroes or great villains.

And so, Lesser Summon Vines once more sprung to work. I envisioned them, and with blood as the foci, they rose out of the man's pillow and wrapped themselves around his neck, before tightening. Four more vines appeared, pinning his legs and arms, stopping him from tearing off vine on his neck, stopping the only means of preventing his suffocation; his strangulation.

It was a slow process, even as he struggled, and fought, clawing at his sheets like a wild beast, convulsing and thrashing on his bed with all the desperation of a living being fighting for life. In the end, the foci was far too strong, and his strength was not enough.

He was not enough.

Manslaughter has gone up by six!

Lesser Summon Vines has gone up by five!

You have gained 1000 EXP!

Congratulations! You have leveled up!

You are now Level 3!

You have gained additional 1000 Mana Points!

You have gained additional 250 Health Points!

Achievement Unlocked: No Witnesses

Title Unlocked: Serial Killer

I slumped back, lying on the floor. I felt old, older than I had any right to feel.

"Dematerialize."

I watched as sparkles of light rose and faded from my vision, and as I stood in a house now devoid of any bodies. Other than the bloodstains on the floor and the protrusions in the roof caused by magical vines, there was nothing proving that people had been attacked and had died.

I rose.

It was easy to find the kitchen, as the convenient minimap made me nigh-clairvoyant. I grabbed a bunch of forks from a drawer, and I tossed them into the microwave. I turned towards the oven, turning the dial until it was on full blast, and then I left it open, watching as my vision slightly altered in response to the invisible fumes.

I cleared out the master bedroom of all jewels and valuables.

Then I took my time to check the family pictures, and ensure that there were no other members of the family I had missed. I made my way out from whence I came, climbing down from Tamara's window.

I made sure I was back on the ground and on the street, before I conjured up the image of the microwave in my mind.

"Lesser Summon Vine."

A tiny, thread-like vine slowly turned the knob of the Microwave's timer.

I swung open the rickety door to my own apartment complex just as the street was engulfed in orange.

Achievement Unlocked: Playing With Fire

I never liked the wailing of sirens. The sound was annoying, almost irritating, and they prevented me from being capable of thinking soundly – thinking logically.

I went out to experiment a Body Possession – to have some fun and masturbate with a girl's body. Then, I returned a higher level, and with a higher body count. How had I gone from having mildly harmless fun, to completely killing an entire family and blowing up their house? I couldn't even begin to explain it.

Magic – it was powerful. Undoubtedly so. However, I realized that it was also a force that was above my comprehension. Body Possession had led to me wiping a girl's personality. My attempt to 'fix' her by imprinting my own soul on her failed as I realized that Gamer's Mind was literally the only thread maintaining my sanity, and I was essentially forced into killing my inner demon given physical form. Then everything else was just damage control.

Why the hell did I blow up their house?

If I had merely killed them and left the house intact, no one would ever have been the wiser. It would have entered a missing cases file, and would have been destined to be forgotten and abandoned. Instead, I had lost my cool. I wanted all memory of the deed wiped clean from my head. From my mind.

There was a difference between killing a cultist out to murder you, and killing an innocent family of three that meant you no ill will.

I wanted all traces of that place, of that thing I had created by destroying the soul of a girl - gone with the ash.

Except, I'd opened a can of worms that could not be closed anymore. I'd unleashed the domino effect.

With the firefighters, eventually came the police. Once the flames were doused and no burnt cadavers were found, it was only a matter of time until –

I sighed. A small badge icon was right there, approaching my own apartment.

Questioning.

They would have most likely finished questioning everyone in the apartment where the crime took place, before they would decide to move over to the Blue Light Complex in hopes of trying to find out if anyone had seen anything.

The problem, however, was that I was an infant. I couldn't answer the door on my own.

Knock!

Knock!

Knock!

"This is the GCPD – we'd like to ask you some questions, if you would please comply."

I played a sequence of events over and over again in my head. Yet, I realized that no matter what choice I made, answering, or not answering, the results would ultimately end up the same – one way or another.

So, with my best 'innocent' and 'childlike' face, I made my way to the door.

"Hiyah Mistwa Powiceman!"

From putting on a grand performance, the Skill – Acting has been created!

I'd never been to the Gotham City Police Department before. Actually, I haven'r been much of anywhere before. It wasn't like Eva had a car that would help save my legs the hassle of moving far distances. Or, it wasn't like there was any place she would or could take me. I was too young to board a bus or most public transportation systems without raising numerous brows, and I didn't know how to teleport yet.

The ride in the car had been comfortable, although annoying. Having to actually act my age was a feat I wasn't sure how to properly perform, but by how steadily my acting skill kept leveling with each and every pretense at struggling with complex words, and each mispronunciation, I knew that I was doing well. It also helped that I glued my face to the window and stared out at all of Gotham City's exotic looking nightlife with awe that didn't have to be faked.

I couldn't be sure, but I think I came from a third-world country in my past life. I'd never seen a city so beautiful before, or at least, I couldn't remember seeing one. So, Gotham City was a sight to behold, even if the sight had been from the backseat of a police vehicle.

The police department itself was large, and it was a mix and mash of what I could remember from the Arkham Games, from the Gotham TV Series, from numerous animated films, and from the Dark Knight Trilogy. With hanging gargoyles and elevated platforms, with numerous levels and elevators, and officers patrolling every square-inch – it was impressive.

Those Wayne Industries donations sure helped.

"Aw – who's this cute little guy?"

My attention turned to a female officer who had noticed me.

"Found him all alone in his apartment – opposite the apartment complex that blew up."

A gasp. "All alone?"

A nod. "Poor kid must have been frightened to death."

Curious. "What about his parents?"

Resigned. "His mother's name is Eva Cabrera – she's a local whor – err… call-girl. She's probably 'out' for the night and left this fella here on his own."

Annoyance. "Well that's just –"

"That's not even the weird part. This kid – it's like he doesn't exist. No hospital records, medical records, hell, he doesn't even have a birth certificate. Talked to some of the neighbors – they said –"

I felt my heart rate rise as the police officer, Thompson, stopped. He turned to me, before he gestured the female officer away, to what they assumed was out of my hearing range.

The skill – Eavesdropping has been created!

"It's sick. The neighbors say that his mother, this Eva chick, locks him up in the apartment whenever she goes out to work, and leaves the kid to starve. She abandons him to fend for himself, and often brings back different 'customers' and forces the kid to watch her get it on with them."

My blood ran slightly cold. That wasn't – I had watched to discourage her from – it wasn't –

"That's disgusting!"

"It gets worse," he said. "Supposedly, she often takes the kid to 'work' with her. To strip clubs and other places, where he's put on display and played with by her co-workers with peculiar 'tastes'."

The female police officer O'Reilly, shot me what she thought was a subtly look of sympathy and pity, but I didn't focus on it. I couldn't focus on it. My mind was clear. Too clear. Too sharp. All at once, I realized my folly. I realized that I had been living in an apartment where the walls had been far too thin. I realized, that from the perspective of people who weren't aware of my own self-sufficiency and independence, of my intellect, they would assume the worst of my mother's actions. Of my actions.

"So – this sicko, where is she?"

"Two of the guys headed out to book her about an hour ago. The way I see it, she's going to go away for a long fucking time. I've already contacted Social Services, I can only hope the guys there can get the poor kid a proper family – with all he's suffered, he deserves it."

This – this wasn't right. No – this couldn't be right

This couldn't be happening.

It was only until I spotted the familiar mop of blonde hair being dragged forward by two police men that reality seemed to sink in.

"Mom!"

I sprinted for her, without hesitation. I barreled into her stomach, my small, childlike form tackling her with all the force it could muster. All we needed was an explanation – a valid explanation – one that wouldn't make her look crazy as she tried to explain to everyone that a one-year old was capable of bantering with her, and was insanely smart. An explanation that wouldn't end up with me effectively displaying to a court that I had the intelligence of someone easily three times my age, and as a result, put myself on the crosshairs of everyone from Amanda Waller to Lex Luthor.

I needed a solution. A solution that would make sense. A solution that would work. A solution that would –

"Huuuh? Z-Zacky – is that you? Heh – you're – are not planning on sucking my nipples again are you? It kinda felt good last time if I'm being honest – come 'ere and give my babies some love~"

I froze.

Gamer's Vision flared.

Status Effect: Highly Inebriated

She was drunk.

Now of all times! NOW of all FUCKING TIMES!

The scene was observed by numerous police officers, and I could already sense the judging and condemning looks they shot her way, as it stood in contrast to the looks of pity sent in my direction.

Irresponsible –

Incapable –

Degenerate –

Whore –

Slut –

Dirty –

Filthy –

Their eyes and postures conveyed the words that their lips would not speak, and I grit my teeth as I tried to make sense of how this could be happening.

I had a quest – a mission.

I had to complete the mission – nothing would stop a mission from being completed right? I had four years… right?

"Codex: Show Quest – Pulling Your Own Weight."

Pulling Your Own Weight!

Your mother is a young, talented, and extremely beautiful woman, who is wasting away her life as a cheap stripper and hooker in Gotham City's slums, and is barely making enough for herself, let alone for the both of you. Help her out by attaining enough money to steer her off this path of life, and truly become a better person.

Objective: -

Attain $100,000 Dollars via any means necessary

Bonus Objectives: -

Attain $250,000 Dollars

Attain $500,000 Dollars

Attain $1,000,000 Dollars

Time Limit:

Before your mother turns Twenty-Five

(Four Years)

Rewards:

10,000 EXP

Additional 25,000 EXP Per Bonus Objective

Increased Standards of Living

Greatly Increased Reputation with your Mother

Greatly Increased Affection with your Mother

[BARRED QUEST]

Due to consequences resulting from the choice of a magical division [Magical Division – Ritual Magic], this Quest has been Barred from completion, and as a result, automatically failed.

My world shattered.

Hence, it is for this reason, that there is a burden or a great cost required of those who dabble into magic. The requirement may be physical, mental or psychological – as magic does not give freely, and in exchange for turning the fundamental laws of the universe into a lump of clay, the user must pay this price.

«

"It's days like this which make me hate this city."

Lieutenant James Gordon said, with a heavy sigh. His hand dipped into his pocket, even as he resisted the urge to scrunch up his nose at the smell, fearing to disrespect the dead. Slowly, he treaded outside, allowing the forensics to do their work, his eyes easily glazing over the dead bodies. Once outside, he brought out his cigarette. His wife had tried to get him to stop. Of course, it was days like this, days such as these, which made him go back to the nicotine.

This entire fiasco had started with what everyone assumed would have been an open and shut case. A sexually abusive and neglectful young mother, who molested, maltreated and did all other sickening acts with her son. Sure, it would have been an uphill battle to gain the required evidence necessary to convict her, but there was a guarantee that it could be done.

Only for her to blow all expectations out of the water.

Jim could still picture the exact moment in his mind, as the woman, dressed in a suit instead of the provocative attire of someone of her profession, had stood in the courtroom, possessing neither the air nor characteristics one would expect of a guilty or remorseful pedophile. She had all but strutted into the courtroom, smiling, nonchalantly at the entire proceedings, against the quiet chastisement of her court-appointed lawyer. Then, when it had come to the time, when the judge had listed out her charges and asked how she pleaded, and she opened her mouth, smacking her lips together as she said, unabashedly:

"Guilty."

No one had expected the declaration. Everyone had been waiting for a long and arduous trial, where more of this woman's misdeeds would be brought to light and where she would get the proper justice dispensed. However, the utterance of that one word changed all of that.

Some were happy. Others were disgruntled. The majority however – were curious.

Why wouldn't the woman want to defend herself? Didn't she care about her child at all? Did she know that she could face a life-sentence? As such, investigations began. And then… a secret unearthed itself to life.

Eva Cabrera was a missing person.

The Cabrera family was a small-name mafia group who had supposedly had ideas to create a system of organized crime that actually benefited the society. However, no one would stand for such a ridiculous notion, and they had stepped on the toes of the wrong person: Carmine Falcone. There had been no evidence tying Carmine to the deed, even though, at this point, everyone knew that the Falcone family was responsible for the complete massacre of the entire Cabrera family. The matriarch had been raped before being killed – and, if the evidence had shown anything, it was likely that the Cabrera family's head, Romero Cabrera, had been forced to watch the scene before he was equally killed.

The only person who had been suspiciously absent from the list of corpses, was a young, thirteen year old Eva Cabrera. She had most likely witnessed the rape of her mother and the murder of her father and brother, but either through luck or fortune, she had been overlooked in the massacre – the sole witness in a case which could have permanently thrown Carmine Falcone behind bars.

She was, in essence, a primary witness against Carmine Falcone.

Jim Gordon blew a puff of smoke into the night air. A shadow loomed overhead, and he let out a sigh upon recognizing it on sight.

"Gordon." The voice that came out was gruff, rough, and sounded as though it was being channeled through an amplifier or sound disruptor of one sort or another.

Jim merely let out another sigh. "Two dead bodies. Maryam Finch, child services, and her attacker. We're focusing all our resources on trying to figure out who he is – because, at this point, it's obvious who sent him."

The woman, Eva, she had the right goal. She wanted to avoid a trial, because a trial would mean exposing her past, exposing the fact that she was a witness, and exposing her connection to Falcone. The most infamous boss of Gotham City was known to have nigh-mystical powers in making any and all witnesses permanently 'disappear'.

So, instead, it would make sense for her to take her charges, and be sent to prison instead.

Except, she had kept her last name – either out of pride or out of some sense of respect to her now deceased loved ones, Jim didn't know. Her last name had been on the news, and it didn't take a super genius to make the connection.

She didn't last four days in Blackgate before being found in a pool of blood in her cell –stabbed to death.

Carmine Falcone didn't take any chances.

"And the boy?"

Jim shook his head, taking a longer, deeper puff of smoke.

"Missing." He said, his lips producing the word like it was toxic. "I have men searching within a ten-block radius. He's a one year old kid – a one year old kid who's been through so much, without having a goddamned clue as to why – and now, he has a death warrant on his head."

There was silence, even as he dropped the cigarette onto the floor and stomped on it.

"Sorry – it's just – I have a daughter, you know. Barbara – she's five. I can't imagine anything happening to her, and yet, this kid, he's barely been in this world for year, and he's –"

"We'll find him." The voice was firm, reassuring. There was a resoluteness and steel to it – one which Jim wondered if he imagined.

He nodded, and conveniently avoided mentioning how the would-be hitman who had attacked the young boy the foster-care agent in charge of him had died. It was insane, to even contemplate the idea, that a one-year old child could smash the head of an adult male into paste.

Still, he couldn't help but feel a sense of dread. A foreboding sensation –

This kid – if he survived, just what exactly would someone like him become?

One Week After Eva's Death

"Beginner Animal Manipulation."

I gestured my fingers forward, curving and turning my index and middle fingers, and I watched, as the Small House Rat Lv. 1 fell under my spell. It tried in vain to resist my control, and I snarled, forcing more Mana to rush into the spell, watching as my mana pool dipped by a hundred points, and as the creature went completely still.

I gestured it to rise, which it did, and then to lay low, which it did. In the decrepit apartment complex which I found myself, the rat became my source of amusement. Using the Mini-map to evade both the Gotham Police Force and the Special Forces Unit, along with the Dark Knight himself had proudly earned me a Stealth skill and an Avoid Detection skill. After a week of this, I had finally found myself in a dilapidated building in Chinatown that was scheduled for demolition.

It would have been so much easier, I knew, to have made it through life if I merely possessed people and lived in their skins. Except, the thought of the Greater Body Possession skill gave me cold shivers. Shivers that came from the realization that I would be permanently damaging and suppressing the souls of the people I possessed. Shivers that came from the memory of a laughing, pseudo-insane teenage girl whose eyes had been the most frigid mirror I had ever looked through.

I wasn't ready to face that yet – again – not yet – not now that…

Eva was dead.

I chuckled.

In hindsight, I should have seen it coming. It was almost painfully obvious. I had a foil titled Tragic Origin Story of course, so, it made sense. It made sense, in that almost annoyingly cliché way, that a person who desired great magic or power would often find themselves losing the one thing they cherished the most in order to attain it. Or, inversely, as a result of losing what one cherished, they attained greatness.

Had Bruce Wayne not lost his parents – there would be no Batman.

Had Barry Allen not lost his parents – there would be no Flash.

Tony Stark, Peter Parker, and on and on it went – it was obvious that their lack of parentage in one form or another had something to do with who they eventually became. Whether I would have become a hero or villain didn't matter in the end – heroes were almost always orphans, and villains didn't have their parents in the equation.

I had cared for my mother. Strange as it was, I had grown accustomed to her, I had felt attached to her, like she was the only thing that mattered in this world. Like she was the only thing that was even slightly real in a world of panels and pages.

Looking back, I wondered what would have gone differently if I hadn't answered the door. I was not American in my past life, and I did not understand nor was I familiar with their police customs or procedures. Yet, there was a voice at the back of my mind, telling me, that from whatever country I had originally hailed from, it was generally a bad idea to ignore a police officer at your doorstep. They had the rights to enter your house without a warrant on accounts of "justifiable cause", which could range from them hearing you leave your water running, and thinking that someone was drowning, to merely conjuring that they had heard a 'suspicious noise'.

Would I have been able to hide from him had he barged in anyway? Probably. Probably not. I was still reeling from the words of my evil female clone and from the sensation I had gotten from twisting and molding a soul to my whims.

Alas, it didn't matter.

What mattered? Truly? Really?

"Soul Drain."

The rat thrashed and twisted, letting out bloodcurdling screams, which, for a few brief seconds, drowned out my thoughts. It drowned out the memories of Eva's laughter, the memory of her smile, the memory of her scent, her touch, her feel –

The squealing rat distracted me. There was tranquility – slow, developing tranquility in the sound of its suffering – in the sound of a being other than me suffering – in the sound of a being suffering for me –

And then, it was done. The squeals had ended.

You have defeated – Small House Rat!

You have gained 10 EXP!

With silence, came contemplation, and with contemplation, my thoughts flew back to blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes.

I couldn't mourn. Couldn't grieve. Couldn't wallow in dismay or agony because the Gamer's Mind blocked and suppressed those emotions and sentiments. A protective measure, which kept me from wallowing about my unfortunate circumstances of being sent into this world, was now a hindrance that would prevent me from ever truly attaining closure.

I needed an outlet.

It wasn't hard to input in the term Small House Rat into my minimap's search engine feature – and watching as numerous red dots came to the forefront of my vision.

I smiled.

"Lesser Summon Vines."

I rounded them up. Ten of them, magical vines grasping them and bringing them before me, pinned down, desperately struggling and trying to escape.

"Sou –"

I stopped. No – not the same method.

I turned my gaze upon the first dead rat, the first one that I had killed.

"Lesser Create Undead."

I watched, with both fascination and curious disgust, as the creature I had killed rose, it's neck in a twisted position, it's eyes glowing a haunting deadly red, the color of blood.

Lesser Undead Minion – Rat Lv. 1

I gave it a simple order.

Kill. Slowly.

The rodent was slow, but it was strong. It clamped down on one of the struggling ten enraptured with vines, and chomped off its leg.

The squeals returned.

I settled back, with a satisfied sigh. The ambience of screaming rats, the background music, the requiem, the symphony which drowned out unnecessary thoughts. The concerto that expressed my inner desires in ways that I could not.

Lesser Undead Minion – Rat has leveled up!

It was fascinating, in a Tokyo Ghoul-ish way, to note how the undead rat leveled up from cannibalizing living members of its own species. Intriguing, satisfying – sidetracking.

Yes… sidetracking.

I suppose, the squeals where only an added benefit.

Achievement Unlocked: Dawn of the Dead

Title Unlocked: Sadist

Two Weeks After Eva's Death

I was right about not needing food to survive. Gamer's Body restored my energy and removed all negative [Hunger] debuffs when I went to sleep and woke up the following morning. In the past seven days however, I had completely cleared the entire building of its rat population. There was only one rat left in the building now, and it was the strongest, deadliest, of them all – and it was mine.

Greater Undead Minion – Alpha Rat

Lv. 34

It was the size of a human head now, and pack filled with muscle on its form despite being dead, and despite not necessarily being capable of gaining muscle mass as a dead being. The process of maintaining the Alpha Rat for seven days straight had easily upped the Lesser Create Undead skill into the Intermediate Create Undead one. Tweaking a bit, I also discovered that Beginner Animal Manipulation worked on all animals, even if they were dead. It made for some easy cheating and power-leveling of the skill by using it to command my pet into doing a bunch of feats and tricks.

Moonwalk.

The sight of a moonwalking zombie rodent was surprisingly more therapeutic than I could have ever imagined.

Thriller Dance.

The Worm.

Dab.

A dabbing zombie rat. Stored in my Codex for future use, when I would find a way to convert it into actual video and upload it on the internet for needless fame, or to tick off people who thought dabbing was retarded. The other benefit of course, had been the complete mastering and maxing of the Master Animal Manipulation skill. I suppose if you could command a rat to moonwalk, you could do pretty much anything else with animals.

I rose up from my dusty spot in the building, glancing at my body and almost laughing at the absurdity of it. No sweat – no overwhelming stench from the lack of bathing for almost two weeks – no sign of any real change except the growth of my fingernails.

I wondered if Eva would tell me to cut them –

I stopped.

I'd been occupied for the past one week. Occupied enough to have momentarily forgotten about that name. Part of me wondered, if I should traverse the path of the angry and evil avenger, rushing down to find and kill Falcone for ordering my mother's hit in prison.

Except, it wouldn't really achieve anything, now would it?

Eva was dead. Gone. I was not even going to contemplate the idea of bringing her back with black magic, because I knew, that one way or another, Eva was supposed to be my cost. My major, one-time trade-off for the powers I now possess. Attempting to give the middle finger to magic by bringing her back would be disastrous at best, or, at worst, it would lead to gaining an even worse penalty. Perhaps I brought her back without a soul. Or, I brought back a twisted and warped soul, using such means as the Lazarus Pit.

No. She was dead – and she was staying dead.

What good would killing Falcone do for me now? I couldn't even mourn the woman, so was I supposed to believe that killing her murderer would grant me resolution? Would grant me closure?

No. She was dead, and what I needed to do now was get over it.

By finding the closest cat, pinning it down, and having my zombie rodent slowly devour it alive.

I wondered what a cat's screams sounded like.

I'd find out soon enough.

Four Weeks After Eva's Death

My zombie rat had gained a title.

Greater Undead Minion – Alpha Rat Ultra

Title: Breaker of Chains

Level 66

Apparently, when you gave the middle finger to the food chain and cycle, by feasting on the flesh of numerous cats and kittens – you gained the title 'Breaker of Chains'. It was a title which doubled all stats when he was facing or fighting anything higher on the Food Chain than himself. This stat increase stacked and was peculiar to opponents, meaning that if he was fighting a hawk and a snake at the same time, his stats would be quadrupled.

Considering he was a rat – that pretty much meant that he was OP when fighting almost anything.

When added with the facts that he now gained skills starting from level fifty – I had a zombie rat that could basically use Poison Fang, and Hyper Fang, and could tear off a man's leg with relative ease.

Of course, the problem was that he was still undead. Though my magic was maintaining his form, as a zombie, he had the traditional weaknesses of fire and ice. If I found a way to eliminate both of those weaknesses, I would have a functionally immortal, unbeatable rodent of mass destruction.

This was what finally spurned me on into learning how to use my Alchemy skills.

Alteration was exactly what was written on the tin. It enabled me to alter the physical world around me, as long as I knew the basic constituents of what I was altering, I could change and morph anything into… anything.

It was actually closer to a Harry Potter-style Transfiguration than it was to the FMA alchemy I had expected, because there was no pesky law of equivalent exchange limiting what I could or could not change at a whim.

The very second I realized that I had transfiguration abilities limited only by my imagination –

I cheated.

Simply put, video games generally set progression systems which allowed you to go from novice to master, and when it came to spells or magic, your starting value allowed you to cast tiny spells or small embers, and then you got to the big stuff and firestorms at greater levels. Essentially, Alteration at Lv. 1 was designed to turn and change small stuff with erring progress, things like changing a piece of stone into a chalk and back – all of that. The smaller the object you tried to Alter, the easier and greater the result.

So I went small.

I altered the chemical compounds in the atmosphere to make a geyser of water – converting Nitrogen atoms into Hydrogen and Oxygen in extreme measures. Then, I altered it again to make a spark of lightning by manipulating the Nitrogen atoms. Then, in classic Roy Mustang fashion, I snapped my fingers.

… And immediately learned how idiotic I was for creating a wall of fire inside a building.

Another snap of Alteration, and a geyser of water appeared to quench the flames.

The skill hit level 70 after repeatedly and endlessly creating fire and water from exploiting its bugs – and then, I went for the big stuff.

I picked up a random piece of debris, closed my eyes, and pictured on what I needed.

"Alteration."

754MP Used!

The high MP demand which was easily more than half of my max amount told me that I had succeeded. In my hand, the piece of debris was gone, and instead, there was a cold, smooth, and shiny bar of gold.

I laughed.

There went any plausible reason to ever work for a living again.

And I didn't even need a Philosopher's Stone to do it.

Alteration eventually maxed out, and I realized that there was one limitation of the power. I could transform a rock into a bird, and a bird back into a rock, because I was the one who created the bird in the first place. I could alter my zombie rat's form to make him smooth, stand upright, and wear an elegant suit like he was the TMNT Sensei in a Butler competition. Yet, however, considering how I failed to turn a random pigeon into roast turkey – I realized that I could not Alter already living and existing organic matter, even with a foci.

Additionally, the when I transformed a rock into a bird, it behaved exactly like a rock – motionless, lifeless, and hollow. I had just changed the composition and outward appearance, but I hadn't given it life.

My attempt to do so, however, garnered me the lovely alchemic skill – Animation.

Essentially, I could animate statues and objects to life, and they would gain the attributes of whatever they were. Conversely, I realized that this also worked on non-statues and random objects, as I could 'Animate' them into performing a particular task or carrying out a certain duty.

Generally, it was like programming.

Animate Cup to hover three inches above the floor, animate cup to tilt 30 degrees in the north eastern direction, animate cup to stop tilting after two point eight seconds –

The more specific the instructions, the better the spell worked.

Fascinating as all of it was however, I realized that I had gotten side-tracked in my side-track – as I nearly forgot all about my original goal of making my zombie rat fireproof and ice proof.

I cracked my knuckles, craned my neck, and slowly, but surely, moved my way up the Alchemy skill tree list, with the next item – Enchantment.

Six Months After Eva's Death

Congratulations! It's Your Birthday!

You have aged up!

You are now 2 years old!

I ignored the notification that had popped up in front of me as my eyes opened. Pushing it to the side, I stretched, before continuing my goal of mastering the Enchantment skill. So far, even with the hack I had discovered of using Animation to fake enchanting objects, the Enchantment skill was the trickiest and most difficult thing I had ever attempted to master. There were almost no other hacks I could think of that would be suitable enough for me to use and completely get it.

The problem lay in the insanely numerous methods they were to enchant an object. You could enchant it to burst on fire with certain commands by merging Animation and Alteration, or enchant it with the soul of a creature to give it that creature's characteristics, or you could enchant it by entrenching it in thick, bloody rituals. Then, there were methods of enchantment such as runes, hieroglyphs, ancient writings, Kanji writing, pictograms, and on and on it went – and you had to use at least one of these methods properly.

The closest I had gotten to Enchantment mastery was evident in the object that lay in front of me.

Item – Magical Evolutionary Chess Set

Class: Rare

A Magical chess set which can be played on one's on, as the pieces will move and respond based on each prior move made by the human player. The chess set is not sentient, but however, saves and records every game played on it, calculating and analyzing, and learning from its mistakes. The same tactic or strategy cannot be used against it twice.

With the amount of games I had played on it, my intelligence had gone up by 102 points, and it slightly peeved me when I realized that I could no longer beat my own creation. Ruy Lopez, Scandinavian Defense, Italian Defense, French Defense, Queen's Gambit, King's Gambit – all my best and favorite Chess openings and tactics had been learned by the board, and now, after one thousand, nine hundred and forty eight games in the past six months, I could no longer win.

A cold wind blew into the building, and I shuddered slightly, before waving my hands with a quick spark of Alteration and converting a portion of the wall into a cozy fire place. A snap and the fireplace ignited. My gaze turned out to the window, glossed over as it was, it was clear that winters in Gotham City were not the greatest.

Had I ever seen snow before?

I scrunched up my nose.

No – I hadn't. I couldn't remember ever seeing snow before. Ever playing in it or making a snowball. I didn't know how a snowball felt like, how snow felt like.

But, that didn't really matter to me.

Instead, I needed to focus back on mastering Enchantment. Once I had mastered that particular skill, I would enchant my anthropomorphic zombie rat into a creature that was immune to both fire and ice. At that point – there wouldn't be anything truly capable of putting him down. Bullets? No. Swords? No. Laser beams?

…

So, I also needed to learn how to provide Enchantment against heat vision, lasers and explosives. That would be interesting.

Also, on the side, I realized that it was about time I started working on my Nature Magic skills as well. How far could I push my ability to create vines, grass and leaves? Could I create specific types of grasses and leaves? Could I then, hypothetically speaking, create spices and cannabis from my abillities?

"Lesser Summon Leaves."

Time to find out.

One Year After Eva's Death

Title Unlocked: Recluse

Achievement Unlocked: People Are Overrated

The place in which I stayed was almost unrecognizable.

Whereas it had been nothing but ruins and debris, all of that was gone. The floor was a smooth and beautiful design pattern of tiles which were artistically drawn with each tile possessing a different image, which all together combined into the image of a giant, red, spiraling eye with tomoe.

Comfortable couches were now in an area called the living room. Fluffy and bouncy, with material made from refined animal furs. An unlit furnace was directly in front of this living room. A flat screen television was hung on a half wall to the right of the living room.

To the left side of this room, lay a door to a bathroom. Spacious, tiled in a mix-mash of white and blue with the image of a peculiar water Pokémon attached to the wall tiles of the bathroom. It, like most of the house, was completely spotless.

Adjacent this room, lay a door to another room. A waterbed was center place, the round object possessing the image of a familiar dark-haired, red-cloaked vampire being used as the sheets and covers. It was a rather crude image, considering that the vampire was pictured with glowing eyes and blood-stained fangs. The theme of the room was in alternating shades of black and red, ranging from clouds to symbols and an amalgamation of different kanji.

I sat in the living room, on the chair, with the television switched on, yet, I couldn't focus on it. My fingers scratched repetitively against the couch, the nails tearing through the material and the material re-forming itself immediately after.

The television was switched on – yet, I couldn't hear it. My mind was busy, thinking, recollecting, remembering.

In no time at all, I would have lived on this earth for longer than I had known Eva. Just like that. A person who had felt like the only reason I woke up in the morning, and soon enough, I would have experienced more without them than more with them.

In the past one year, I had thrown myself into distractions. Into sidetracking tasks and activities. I used the justification of self-improvement and testing my powers – but now, in exactly a year, with the aid of shortcuts and innovation, I had mastered nearly every single aspect of Ritual Magic –

Except the actual rituals.

Yet, now that I had nearly nothing left to do, I realized that I would have to go back out into the world again. I would have to leave my comfortable little hoven of solitude and face the outside – and return to this meaningless world of monsters.

And I would have to do it – without a single person beside me.

No.

Maybe – maybe not yet.

There were still other things I could do – I should do, if I wanted to go back into the world of gods and monsters.

Like…

Mastering every single instrument.

A brief usage of Alteration on random objects filled the living room up with a grand piano, a violin, a guitar, a set of drums, a flute, a trumpet, a trombone, and a triangle.

Yes… this would do. It would do for now.

One Year and Six Months After Eva's Death

Congratulations! It's Your Birthday!

You have aged up!

You are now 3 years old!

Easy. So easy. Why had it all been so easy?

People out there in the world devoted years of their lives to total mastery of their selected instruments, and as a Gamer, with just six months of constant practice, of playing, without rest, without sleep, without food, without pause –

Musical Mastery Tree – Maxed!

Piano Mastery (Level Maxed)

Guitar Mastery (Level Maxed)

Violin Mastery (Level Maxed)

Percussion Instrument Mastery (Level Maxed)

Flute Mastery (Level Maxed)

Trumpet Mastery (Level Maxed)

Congratulations! As a result of Mastering the Music Skill Tree and being a practitioner of Soul Magic – you have unlocked a special Magic Skill –

Soul Music (Active) Lv. 1

Music which speaks to the soul. To uplift, bring down, seduce or torment – the choice is yours. This power lets your music speak for you, to let your music sway the hearts of man and beast alike.

Title Unlocked: Musical Prodigy

Achievement Unlocked: Lord of Symphony!

I grit my teeth and tossed my hands into the air.

I didn't want any more useless titles and achievements! I didn't need them! I didn't! I just wanted – I wanted –

I stopped.

What do I want?

I… didn't know.

For the longest time, all I had wanted, was to create a life for myself and Eva. I wanted to make her a better person. I wanted to watch her achieve her dreams. I wanted to see her become something great –

Something beautiful.

She was my everything.

I… loved her.

But – she was dead. Gone. There was no bringing her back. This meant, that my want, my greatest desire, it couldn't come to fruition anymore. It couldn't happen. I had to set a new goal, a new reason to continue, a new reason to wake up every morning. A desire. A want.

No matter how crazy, no matter how twisted, no matter how morally repulsive or ignoble. I needed something – anything.

So… what do I want to do the most?

What beautiful, sick, deranged and twisted fantasy could I indulge myself in for the rest of my life?

My mother had died as a result of my own machinations, I knew. However, I also knew, that the circumstances of the horrible life she had lived had been brought about by the actions of Carmine Falcone, and the failure of the so-called 'hero' to stop him. I knew, that if Carmine Falcone had not existed, the story would be far, far different.

The police was either corrupt or inept, and Batman would never be able to stain his hands to remove a stain from this earth, in the ridiculously bullshit name of moral purity.

Neither would Superman.

Nor Wonder Woman. Nor Green Lantern, The Flash, Green Arrow, Martian Manhunter –

And so – I realized what my purpose was.

Break or eliminate every superhero.

Murder or enslave every supervillain.

End or conquer the world of Masks and Capes.

It was grand. It was over the top. It would almost certainly get me killed or imprisoned.

But it was something I wanted to do.

I wanted to be the man who ended the Dark Knight.

The person who bent the Man of Steel.

The one who dominated an Amazon.

This was my story. This was my goal. This was the world in which I had found myself, and I would not – could not – sit back and watch this farce any longer. No. I had the power to change things. To change the world.

To rule it.

In a world where gods walked the earth as mortal men, and I would become a legend.

And I would do it –

For myself.

ULTIMATE QUEST UNLOCKED!

The World of Masks and Capes