Note: read “And Deep Within The Wastes, Your Way You’ll Find” first.
Aboard the Gilgamesh, the multiversal vessel owned by the big-brained Marley of Timeline-62, the moment of truth has finally arrived.
In the laboratory, M-62 and his friends from Timeline-1989 look at the two tubes, containing the cloned bodies of Adam and Kushim.
The Adam clone’s muscular body is naked, but M-62 prepared for this, and had some of his minions paint an opaque black bar on that tube, at crotch level.
For scalies, nudity isn’t any more of an issue than it is for fluffies.
In fact, it’s even less of an issue. Scalies reproduce by spitting out eggs, so they don’t have any genitals.
They still have anuses, though.
The clones’ eyes are closed, because the blank stares were starting to unnerve everyone. But the wires are still connected to their bodies, transmitting important diagnostic information to the screens.
M-62’s wearing his tendril harness, and is using four of the eight tendrils to operate two computer panels.
Zebediah is wearing a second harness now. Dark purple, and with only two tendrils. That’s the most a mentally average fluffy can manage, and despite his power of persuasion, Zebediah isn’t much smarter than the average fluffy.
Of course, his best friend is a bonafide supergenius, and M-62 has been working on that. He knows at least a dozen ways to make someone smarter.
Private Killgrave, Zebediah’s pet human, is standing by, guarding his master and his comrades. He hasn’t been in control of himself for a very long time, and completely understands why M-62’s Calvin took the first opportunity to commit suicide he got.
Sadly, M-62 and Zebediah are completely aware that Killgrave would do the same if he could, and have gone out of their way to make sure he can’t.
As his first official minion, Zebediah feels attached to Killgrave in a twisted way. Not counting General Lucas, Killgrave was the first person to be controlled by Zebediah’s power of persuasion.
The purple stallion is wracked with a perverted sentimentality.
Before each tube, one of the soul containment devices the group salvaged from the Edge of Eternity stands.
One contains the soul of Adam, the other contains the soul of Kushim. Both extracted from the exact moments the duo died as demons, and scrubbed clean of demonic essence. For M-62, that’s about as challenging as having a rug cleaned after one of the less intelligent members of his species, ahem, stains it.
The devices have been labelled, to avoid any humorous mixups.
Melchior’s gotten distracted, and he’s looking at a different tube, off to one side.
That tube is full of dust, the same dust that was on those containment units. The dust is swirling in the shape of the head of a goatlike creature, with large horns, a crown, shaggy hair, and a beard.
M-62’s attempts to clone that haven’t been going so well. His theory is that whatever the creature was, its body wasn’t comprised of conventional physical matter.
He thinks that the creature’s body might have been comprised of magic instead, which frustrates him to no end.
M-62 has little patience for magic.
He’s a man of sci… erm, a stallion of science through and through.
But he drew the obvious conclusion: that when the creature died, the magic holding it together ceased to function, and the creature’s body disintegrated into dust.
Seeing as the soul containment units were covered in that dust when M-62 found them, he then assumed that the creature was in close proximity to the devices when it died.
Clearly, something happened to that creature’s native timeline after its demise, causing that pointless world to be sent into the abyss. Whatever remnants of that destroyed timeline wound up in the Edge of Eternity, the dumping ground for the multiverse’s trash.
M-62 has salvaged all kinds of useful objects from the Edge of Eternity.
While it’s not making any sounds other than the rustling of the swirling dust, the goatlike creature appears to be screaming in unimaginable pain, its face twisted by a demonic expression.
M-62 has also theorised that whatever that creature is, it had a very fragile soul, and the soul didn’t survive when the creature died.
It might be screaming because it knows what it’s lost.
And M-62 been wondering what he would get if he infused the dust with a human soul.
Or possibly a few.
He’s got seven of those containers…
Melchior curiously taps the tube full of swirling dust.
tink tink
“He’s a rather regal looking fellow, isn’t he?”
Gaspar gives Melchior a weary look from across the room.
“You’re standing in front of the wrong tube, Melchior!”
“I’m just curious to see how this project unfolds.”
“Look at it later! This is more important!”
As Melchior shuffles back over to the others, Gaspar looks down at M-62.
“So what needs to be done now, Marley? We have their bodies, and we have their souls. Are there any more preparations that need to be done?”
“Not really. The real question is, are you sure you want to do this? We’re at the last stop before the Point of No Return.”
“What did we do all of this for, Marley? We went to so much effort to acquire their DNA, clone their bodies, and extract their souls. Are you seriously suggesting that we turn back now?”
“I’d be lying if I said I don’t have my concerns. Adam was just as unruly as the average Calvin, and had an ego so big you could see it from orbit. I doubt that Zebby here could control Adam.”
“Zebby powah nu did wowk awn Kaw-keeyah bwuddah.”
M-62 shrugs dismissively.
“It seems to be an Omega Class thing, Zebby. I haven’t seen one that isn’t stubborn and defiant. And I wouldn’t be surprised if Adam turns on us the moment he’s out of that tube.”
Belthasar places a hand on Adam’s tube.
“The three of us were the Emperor’s most trusted advisors. If we simply explain how much you’ve done for us, he’ll be happy to cooperate with you.”
“Will he? He’s a very arrogant man. I’m fully expecting him to rebel within minutes after his resurrection. Seriously, last chance.”
Gaspar scowls down at Marley.
“Just do it, please. If you think the Emperor is hard to deal with, imagine what the Empress would be like if we return home without him. She wasn’t as powerful as the Emperor, but she was still stronger than the three of us put together.”
Melchior nods happily.
“The Emperor chose well. Only the strongest woman in Ad Laun Dyz was fit to be his bride. And their child could be even more powerful.”
And Belthasar smiles warmly.
“The three of us were named as their child’s guardians, should something happen to the Emperor and Empress. We were all looking forward to celebrating the birth of Adam’s heir.”
Gaspar fidgets with his beard impatiently.
“And we can’t do that without the Emperor. Without him, we lack the power to restore our homeland, and Empress Eve will never give birth. So Marley, please, just do it already. Bring them home.”
M-62 sighs reluctantly.
“If you insist, gentlemen. Don’t come crying to me if this backfires on us. Alright, let’s get those souls in those new meat suits.”
He directs his metallic tendrils, two of them grabbing a pair of long, thick black cables.
At M-62’s mental command, the tendrils slowly and carefully connect the tubes containing the cloned Omegas to the soul containment devices.
The Gurus and Zebediah watch M-62 work.
Melchior quickly gets bored and wanders off again. This time, to a table covered with various objects scavenged from the Edge of Eternity.
One of them is a robot, with four lights for a face, one of those lights being broken. The robot is deactivated, and looking like it’s seen better days. Someone seems to have clobbered it with a big hammer, because there’s several dents, and whoever clobbered it also apparently stamped a capital letter B and an ampersand onto its torso.
There’s a couple more mostly identical robots on the floor, both partially dismantled.
Melchior grabs one of the parts removed from the robot on the table, and when he presses a button on the part, it plays what were evidently the robot’s last words in a tinny electronic voice.
“Banzai dipshit!”
Grinning, Melchior amuses himself by pressing the button several times, like an impatient man waiting for an elevator.
“Ban-ban-banzai dipsh-banzai-banzai dipshit!”
Then Melchior puts the part back, turning to the others.
“Am I crazy, or are a lot of versions of this robot popping up in the Graveyard of Universes lately? It’s like this robot has been banned from existence.”
Gaspar walks over, dismissively poking the robot.
“I can’t explain it, Melchior. But Marley’s right, that junkheap isn’t worth the spare parts. Terrible craftsmanship, and poorly programmed too. I’d like to meet whoever created this robot, and show them how it’s done properly.”
“Yes, I remember our extermination campaign. The Earthbound Ones just didn’t know how to fight our robots. Of course, they were so primitive back then.”
“Were? Fourteen thousand years have passed, and they’re still not on our level. Maybe we could melt these robots down, and make something else out of them. Like a statue of the Emperor, to celebrate his rebirth. Speaking of, get back over here!”
Gaspar grabs Melchior by the arm and drags him back to the rest of the group, grumbling to his colleague.
“You’re like a small child, Melchior. I can’t take my eyes off you for five seconds without you wandering away after whatever catches your interest.”
M-62 chuckles, the soul containers now connected to the tubes.
“You’d think he’d be a bit more invested in this, Gaspar. After all, your precious Emperor is about to be resurrected. Doesn’t happen every day. You don’t want to miss it.”
Melchior shrugs.
“I was just waiting for you to finish the boring part, Marley.”
M-62 directs his tendrils back to the computer panels, getting to work on the final step.
“It would have been funny if I accidentally connected the wrong cables to the wrong tubes.”
Zebediah scratches his chin with a tendril. He quickly got the hang of that thing, and loves the opportunities it brings.
“Wait, den Adam wud be Kushim, an Kushim wud be Adam, wite? Tawk abowt a Fwee-kee Fwai-day.”
“Fridays aren’t even a thing here, Zebby. But yes, that is what would happen if I mixed it up.”
The group watches, as the soul containers start glowing, their contents being sucked up through the cables, into the tubes…
And into the inert bodies.
When the glowing stops, M-62 watches the vats drain.
glop glop glop glop glop
“And like that, it’s done.”
Melchior watches Kushim sink as the fluid lowers.
“I can’t believe we actually did it. We brought them back.”
Gaspar looks at his Emperor, who has yet to stir.
“When will they wake up, Marley?”
“Soon, Gaspar. So is that armor you put together ready?”
“We just had to upgrade the chronal equaliser, Marley. Hopefully, it won’t burn out again.”
Belthasar walks over to an armor stand, bearing a replica of Adam’s armor.
“I don’t know where you got so much adamantium.”
M-62 cracks a knowing grin.
“Same place I get most of my stuff, Belthasar. Hmm. Something has just occurred to me. Seeing as Ad Laun Dyz is basically Atlantis, shouldn’t you three be using orichalcum instead?”
Gaspar chuckles, looking at the gleaming armor.
“Oh, that’s in there too. The Mammon Machine also contained orichalcum, and so did the Triad of Force. It was very adept at harnessing Entity V’s power.”
Then he looks back at the tubes.
“If we had been sealed away with the Emperor, then we could have simply built another Mammon Machine, to channel power from Entity V into the Emperor’s armor. With a boost like that, the Emperor would have triumphed over the entire ChaotiX with ease. Korkea never really faced the Emperor at his strongest.”
“And I suppose that when Ad Laun Dyz fell, it took the secrets of orichalcum with it?”
“Indeed, Marley. Of course, we know how to make it.”
“And unlike chivalrium, you don’t have to be a self-proclaimed good guy to use it. What would I have to do to persuade you to tell me how to make orichalcum?”
“Well, you just resurrected our Emperor, so…”
“Hold that thought? They’re waking up.”
The tubes slide open, and Adam and Kushim, both dripping wet, slowly open their eyes and stumble out, like babies who have only just started learning to walk.
Adam tries to get his bearings, his vision blurry.
“Where… what…”
M-62 smiles up at him, directing his tendrils to remove the wires from the duo’s bodies.
“Adam Omega… welcome back to the land of the living.”
Then the memories come flooding back to Adam. His last moments before Jack’s chivalrium katana ran him through flash before his eyes.
As his vision clears, he looks at his dripping hands, a sorrowful expression on his caramel brown face.
“Why? Why did you bring me back?”
The Gurus, already on their knees, look at each other in confusion, and M-62 raises an eyebrow.
“I beg your pardon?”
Zebby curiously examines Kushim.
“Zebby gutta wotta kwest-yuns wite nao.”
Kushim grimaces, remembering his last moments before an angry steel fluffy made him burst apart from the inside.
“Ssssu du Kusssshim, tu be awn-esssst. How am we awive again?”
Adam sighs sadly.
“We shouldn’t even be-- hold on.”
He peers down at M-62.
“Marley? It was you who brought us back? How did your brain get so… big?”
M-62 points a hoof at the kneeling Gurus.
“Well, they helped me. And I’m not the Marley you know.”
Gaspar looks up at his Emperor’s face, a joyous look on his wrinkled face.
“Sire, it is so good to see you again. You wouldn’t believe what we went through to get to this point.”
“You shouldn’t have bothered, Gaspar.”
“What–”
“Our time is over! It’s been over for fourteen thousand years! How did you even escape the fall of Ad Laun Dyz? I distinctly remember ordering the three of you to go to the Mammon Machine, to divert power to my armor…”
“Yes, well, you’ve put your finger on it. That temporal weapon the Patrol launched reacted with the Mammon Machine at full capacity… and we were right next to it…”
“And you somehow wound up in the same world we wound up in. The one where Ad Laun Dyz never was. How fortunate that your molecules weren’t simply scattered across space-time.”
“Correct as always, Sire. But now we can put everything back the way it’s supposed to be! We can go home! The Empress has been waiting for you… in a manner of speaking.”
Melchior nods solemnly.
“She’s been due for fourteen thousand years, Sire. We shouldn’t keep her waiting any longer.”
Adam sags, letting out a moan of grief.
“Eve… my boy… my family… my people… it’s all my fault that they’re gone…”
Belthasar keeps his eyes covered by his hand, because right now, the Gurus’ heads are at crotch level. Frankly, if there were illustrations, Adam would need a rather long censor bar.
“You should probably get yourself cleaned up and get dressed, Sire. And you two need a good solid meal, I think. After that, we can discuss our next move.”
“What next move? Where are we, anyway? And will you three get up already?!?”
As the Gurus stand up straight, M-62 answers Adam’s second question.
“Technically, we’re nowhere, and nowhen. But you stand in the laboratory of the Gilgamesh, my own personal multiversal vessel.”
Adam peers down at him again, still not fully understanding.
“So… you’re not the Marley I know, you said? You certainly don’t sound like him. And his brain isn’t that big…”
“I originally hail from Timeline-62, Adam. Zebediah and Private Killgrave here hail from Timeline-1989, as you and the Gurus do. Although, I suppose it would be more accurate to call your timeline Timeline-1989A, but let’s not squabble over semantics, you only woke up five minutes ago. Just call me Marley, as long as you don’t call me Mar.”
Zebediah waves at the newly resurrected Omegas with a tendril.
“Hewwo. Am Zebby. Su Kushim dewe am a scawy, wite? Wook wike a weawwy ugwy fwuffy tu Zebby.”
Kushim leers at the purple stallion.
“Dat am funee, cuzzzz Kusssshim fink dat fwuffiessss wook wike weawwy ugwy scawiessss. An keep in mine, scawiessss came fiwsssst.”
Zebediah shrugs.
“Hey, it am wike makin pan-cakes: da hoomins nu wuz gunna du pew-fek-wee awn da fiwst twy.”
M-62 shoots him a warning look.
“Don’t go provoking our guests, Zebby. They’ll need some time to recuperate from their resurrection.”
Belthesar nods, still trying not to look at his Emperor’s junk.
“You’ll both need a shower, too. You’re dripping all over the floor.”
Melchior taps the armor.
tink tink
“We already prepared a new suit of armor for you, Sire. We couldn’t clone that.”
Gaspar beams at his Emperor.
“You might be suffering from a case of post-resurrection depression, Sire. But we can help you process this–”
Adam scoffs.
“I’m not suffering from post-resurrection depression, Gaspar. I’m angry that you bothered to resurrect me at all! I had accepted Oblivion! I had made my peace with the fall of our Empire! Did you really drag us back from nothingness so we could fail to restore Ad Laun Dyz again?!?”
“But Sire, now we’re all together! We just need to figure out if you still have Clockson’s powers, and if not, then–”
“So you’ve met Clockson, Gaspar? Have you met Korkea and Marley too?”
“Yes on both counts, Sire. But they don’t know that you’re back yet, we have the element of surprise–”
“Listen to me, Gaspar! As strong as I am, Korkea… and I hate to admit this… Korkea is stronger than me.”
The Gurus gasp, unable to believe what they’re hearing.
Gaspar stares at his Emperor in bafflement.
“How can you say that, Sire?!? You are the almighty Adam Omega! The first Omega Class! He who made the entire universe tremble in fear! No one compares to you!”
“And yet, I died twice! At the hands of Korkea and Clockson’s merger, and then just Clockson! Though I guess that Caldroid automaton helped… the point is, Kushim and I have been surpassed. We’re not the only Omega Classes anymore. We’re obsolete now. I’d wager that Korkea and his friends have only grown stronger since my previous death. Am I wrong?”
“Well… no… and we did empower Korkea’s brother with an Enlightener…”
Adam’s eyes narrow, and he hisses at Gaspar in a low and dangerous tone.
“You did what.”
Gaspar stammers, trying to explain himself, Belthasar staring at his own feet, Melchior having wandered back over to the tube full of swirling dust.
“We needed someone with power like yours to restore the Empire, Sire! With you and Kushim being dead at the time, and everyone else with that power being on Korkea’s side, we had no choice but to–”
“Do something which I had expressly forbidden. I thought you Gurus were loyal to me, Gaspar.”
“We are! We only went against your decree out of necessity! Everything we did was to get us to this moment, Sire!”
Adam throws his hands up, accidentally splattering Gaspar with regeneration fluid.
“So now what? Shall we run off to challenge Korkea and his friends again, so they can kill us all in one go?”
M-62 interrupts.
“Actually, we’ve already decided that we’re staying the hell away from Timeline-1989. Adam, you have another chance to go home now.”
This gives Adam pause, because he still doesn’t understand everything.
“I don’t get it. If we were to restore Ad Laun Dyz, would that not unmake you, and, ah, Zebediah?”
“Oh no, I’ve already taken care of that issue. As I’ve said to the Gurus before, you Adams can have your own little corner of the multiverse. Restoring your homeland won’t affect every timeline. Just the ones that exist because it was removed. Zebby and I can help you five get home, you’ll finally get your happy ending, and then the two of us will sail off into the infinite sunset together. But if you’ve given up on going home, then you’re all too welcome to stay here. As long as you all make yourselves useful.”
“…First, I should probably get cleaned up.”
“Of course, Adam. Let me just lead you to a bathroom…”
Half an hour later (so to speak, time isn’t really a thing here), Adam and Kushim have cleaned themselves up, and Adam has donned that armor.
In the canteen, the two resurrected Omegas help themselves to a meal on M-62.
“om nom nom nom nom”
“um num num num num”
There’s mostly meat on their plates. Adam is one of those men who is of the opinion that a man who doesn’t eat copious amounts of meat is hardly a man at all.
Back during the glory days of Ad Laun Dyz, when the Earth below was an endless hell of ice and snow, the Earthbound Ones were lucky to find anything to eat.
But of course, the Enlightened Ones of Ad Laun Dyz never went hungry. They had more food than they could ever eat.
And they’d laugh you out of the room if you suggested sharing with the Earthbound Ones.
By now, you should see that there are reasons that Ad Laun Dyz fell.
Adam certainly sees that.
The Gilgamesh has an excellent gourmet chef on board. Being an orc, he’s got dark green skin, pointy ears, an impressive pair of tusks, and is watching Adam curiously. He’s been supplied with a pristine white chef’s apron, and the requisite chef’s hat.
Ever since that chef was extracted from his native timeline, seconds before he would have been brutally yet pointlessly murdered, he’s been happy to work here. Via his new employers, he’s gained access to recipes from across the multiverse, and he was already an exemplary chef.
That, and it’s a lot nicer than an isolated tavern in the middle of nowhere. It’s warmer, too. And he’s got more company.
His would-be assassin never figured out what exactly he had witnessed, but the chef’s sudden disappearance from the universe still allowed the assassin to steal his identity.
The assassin wouldn’t have told people what happened to the chef anyway.
Nobody would believe him if he told them that a big metal tentacle popped out of a slimy green portal and spirited the chef away to parts unknown just as the assassin crouched down, poised to kill the chef.
That branch of reality is very low-tech.
And the one race in that branch that tried to do something about that has apparently ceased to exist entirely, leaving their advanced underground cities full of incomprehensible technology behind for plucky adventurers to shamelessly clean out.
Gaspar looks imploringly at Adam.
“Sire… we went through a lot to bring you back. The Empress… your son… our people… all of them are trapped. Frozen in time. We’ve seen it for ourselves. And we’ve seen the world without Ad Laun Dyz. Everything is just plain wrong.”
Adam shovels food into his mouth, too hungry to speak.
He chews, swallows, and finally replies.
“The Earth is in better hands now, Gaspar. Calvin Korkea and his friends… they have proven their worth as Earth’s protectors. Our world came to an end for a reason… and that reason is me. It was my own foolishness and arrogance that brought about the fall of Ad Laun Dyz. If we were to undo that, what would we do next? Finish exterminating the Earthbound Ones? Kill everyone else in the universe? Then what?”
Gaspar smiles reassuringly.
“You wanted your son to inherit the greatest empire that will ever exist. We would build that empire. Have you forgotten your dream, Sire? To see the Enlightened Ones spread to every corner of the universe?”
“Instead, I saw the universe fight back. The extraterrestrials were never going to just roll over and let us take the universe for ourselves.”
“But they don’t have another one of those temporal bombs! They can’t unmake Ad Laun Dyz again!”
M-62 chuckles, standing on the table with Zebediah.
“I must admit, Adam, that you’ve thoroughly subverted my expectations. I was expecting you to have attempted to take control of the Gilgamesh by now. Instead, you’re… wallowing in self-pity and completely disregarding the chance of a lifetime that just dropped into your lap. As Gaspar said, it cost a considerable amount of effort to resurrect you and Kushim.”
Kushim’s standing on the table too, too busy numming to talk.
So M-62 continues, waddling closer to Adam.
“You’re not going to tell us that the Gurus went through everything they went through for nothing, are you? Do you even have a plan of your own?”
This gives Adam pause, because he doesn’t.
“In my defence, I’ve only been alive again for… not even a full hour. I don’t think we should make another attempt to restore the Empire… and I definitely don’t think Calvin Korkea would be happy to see us… but I just don’t know what else we could do.”
Gaspar smiles again.
“Sire, we’ve got a plan. We can restore the Empire without that uppity wretch even noticing until it’s too late. Marley here will help us do it, and just look at the resources he has at his disposal!”
Adam turns to M-62, looking at him curiously.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you something, Marley. How exactly did you acquire this bizarre vessel?”
M-62 chuckles knowingly.
“That’s a very long story, Adam. Let’s just say that after Zebby, Killgrave and I abandoned Timeline-1989, we were extremely busy. Hopping across space and time, using my brilliant mind, Zebby’s power of persuasion, and Killgrave’s power of having a pair of hands to acquire the resources we needed to build the Gilgamesh, and the manpower to operate it.”
“I think I can guess why you left.”
“It was that or face CQK-1989, and he was on the warpath at the time, searching for his idiot brother. So we ditched the Gurus and let them deal with him, and bailed them out later on.”
Gaspar scowls, muttering under his breath.
“You told us to let that drop, but you keep bringing it up.”
M-62 grins, unable to hide his smugness.
“And what, exactly, are you going to do about it? Have you forgotten the conversation that took place moments after we brought you here?”
“Things have changed, Marley. Now, we have the might of our Emperor on our side.”
“You won’t have it for much longer if you do what I know you’re thinking of doing.”
“…What?”
M-62 chuckles again, in a very sinister manner.
“Do you remember when we were initially preparing the samples of DNA for cloning, Gaspar? And do you remember when you went to the bathroom for a rather long time, halfway through?”
Gaspar blushes.
“I’m old. At my age, a man’s got to focus.”
Belthasar and Melchior nod knowingly, and Gaspar continues.
“But what’s your point, Marley?”
M-62 grins diabolically as he drops the bomb.
“My point is, while you were in the bathroom, I slipped a little something-something into Adam and Kushim’s DNA. A dependency on a drug of my own design, the formula known only to me. If they don’t take that drug frequently, their bodies will begin to deteriorate, and degenerate. Fatally.”
The room falls silent, everyone from Ad Laun Dyz staring at M-62.
Gaspar asks the question on their minds, his voice sounding rather weak.
“Why… why would you…”
Or at least, he tries to ask.
M-62 scoffs, in disbelief that they have to ask.
“Why do you think? To keep you lot from betraying us. Kill us, and these two will follow us soon enough. The formula exists nowhere else but inside my mighty mind, and there are currently two pills in existence. One for Adam, and one for Kushim. I’ll only be making two at a time, just to be sure. I wonder, would Adam steal Kushim’s dose to buy himself a little more time? Oh, I suppose it wouldn’t matter either way. Without me, you won’t have the means to make more. And then, you won’t have Adam or Kushim.”
“So we’ll just clone them again, with untampered DNA samples–”
“By the way, the Gilgamesh was designed with multiple measures prepared for the event of my death, none of which I’m going to elaborate on. But to nutshell it: you won’t get anything done here without me. You won’t even get the toilets to flush for you. And if you had access to a better lab, you wouldn’t be here.”
As Adam opens his mouth indignantly, M-62 beats him to the punch. Or rather, to the sorry hoof.
“But, but, if you all cooperate with us, and stick to the plan, then when we send you five home, I’ll give you the formula of that drug, and you can make as much of it as you please. No strings attached.”
Zebby nods.
“As wong as yu take yu meds, yu wiww be fine.”
“What he said. So you see, it’s in your best interests to stay here for the time being, and keep working with us. It’s your best chance (and let’s be real, only chance) to get all of the things you want.”
Adam asks the question he wanted to ask a few minutes ago.
“Why would you even go to so much effort to ensure our cooperation, Marley?”
“Because A: I know a lot about you. Remember what you did to Hans after waking up in the Alps? You didn’t waste any time betraying him. You were even planning to betray Fate. How stupid would I have to be to trust a backstabber to not stab me in the back? And B: I strongly believe in enlightened self-interest, so I’m helping you because it will help me in the long run.”
“How?”
“Let’s just say that I’ll take a multiverse full of you over a multiverse full of Calvin Korkea.”
This strikes Adam as odd.
“I don’t understand. You are a Marley, aren’t you? The Marley I know was staunchly loyal to Calvin Korkea.”
M-62 huffs, rolling his eyes.
“Most versions of me are, and that’s the problem. I can’t stand my counterparts taking orders from him. In my timeline, Calvin was taking orders from me. That is, until the control device in his brain malfunctioned, and he took the opportunity to get out from under my metaphorical thumb by committing suicide.”
He points three tendrils at the Gurus, the ends of the tendrils turning into little hands.
“Which is why I initially began working with these three stooges. I was hoping to replace my Calvin by using that Enlightener to empower someone else. Someone not as defiant as him. Unfortunately, his brother is just as defiant, and Vulcanus died not long after we abandoned Timeline-1989, rendering the Enlightener useless.”
“…Who is Vulcanus?”
“You knew him as Entity V.”
Adam’s jaw drops as he realizes the implications.
“Entity V is dead?!?”
Kushim’s jaw drops too.
“How did dat happun?!? Enn-tee-tee Vee am eben sssstwonguw den daddeh…”
M-62 uses two of his tendrils to shrug.
“I think you can guess who killed Vulcanus, my friends. But it doesn’t really matter anymore. Now, we no longer need to artificially empower an Omega Class, or steal an Omega’s power. We just need to ascertain whether or not you’ve retained JAC-1989’s temporal powers before we can get to work.”
“Why do we need to do that? I had his powers when I died as a demon.”
“Yes, but the DNA samples we used to clone you two were taken from before you died for the first time, and before you had even copied JAC-1989’s powers.”
“So that’s where the hairbrush went!”
“You didn’t even notice that Kushim’s shed skin was missing too, did you? The point is, if you still have your copied temporal powers, we can get to work right away. Otherwise, you’ll just have to copy Gaspar’s powers.”
Gaspar sighs wearily.
“If I had let you do that in the first place, Sire, it would have saved us all a lot of trouble. But we can’t find out if you have time powers here. There’s no time to manipulate.”
M-62 nods, a pensive look on his face.
“Unless we can somehow recruit JAC-999999. He seems to bring time with him, wherever he goes. He makes his own time. It’s a very interesting phenomenon that I’d like to study in detail, but we haven’t yet had the opportunity.”
He points a tendril at the plates of food on the table.
“But that’s a conversation for another time. You two should finish eating. You need to keep your strength up, and nothing works up an appetite like being wrenched out of Oblivion’s clutches.”
Adam and Kushim look at each other, and then go back to eating.
“om nom nom nom nom”
“um num num num num”
Meanwhile, M-62 lowers himself back to the ground, and so does Zebediah.
“So, what do you think about them?”
“Kushim am kinna a ass-howe.”
Kushim glares at Zebediah, but goes back to eating instead of arguing.
M-62 uses one of his tendrils to waggle a finger.
“I told you not to provoke our guests, Zebby. They’ll be staying here for a while, so it’s vital that we all get along.”
At his mental command, Zebediah’s tendrils retract into the harness.
“Otay, Mawwey gutta point dewe. Su, uh, dis widdwe teem we gut am pwetty big nao. Shud da teem nu hab a namesie?”
“Perhaps, but… let’s walk and talk, shall we?”
“Suwe. Mistah Pwai-vut! Come awong nao.”
“Yes, Master Zebediah.”
The two fluffies exit the mess hall, their pet human obediently following them.
Once there’s some distance between them and their guests from Ad Laun Dyz, they carry on the conversation as they walk down one of the many metal hallways of the Gilgamesh.
“We don’t really need a team name, Zebby. Our alliance with the Gurus and Adam is temporary. As I told them, once we’ve helped them with their matters, we’ll part ways with them.”
“Af-tuw gibin dem dat fow-myu-wah.”
M-62 grins conspiratorially at Zebediah.
“Can you keep a secret, Zebby?”
“Fow yu? Awways. Wut am da see-kwit?”
“There isn’t a formula.”
“Su… su dey am gunna gu foweba sweepies, nu mattuh wut? Dewe am nu way tu stawp dem fwom, uh, dee-gen-uw-way-tin? Wai gib dem fawse hope, den?”
M-62 chuckles sardonically.
“I think you’re still a bit slow on the uptake, my friend. There isn’t a formula because they aren’t at risk of degeneration. At all. That whole spiel about the dependency I programmed into Adam and Kushim’s DNA is a load of bunk. I didn’t do jack squat. Their DNA is pure, and completely untainted.”
“Weawwy?”
“Really.”
“But yu towd dem dat yu am gunna gib dem da fow-myu-wah. Wut am yu gunna gib dem if da fow-myu-wah nu eck-sist?”
“The recipe for Reese’s Pieces. Hey, they can hardly complain about it, can they?”
Zebediah giggles.
“It am gunna be vewy, vewy funee, wen dey wee-ah-wize dat dey haf bin had. Su wai did yu wie tu dem abowt dat in da fiwst pwace?”
“To make sure they keep playing nice with us. They won’t dare to call that bluff now. The pills I made? They’re just harmless sugar pills, filled with pure placebo effect. But Adam will do whatever it takes to make sure he gets his medicine, as long as he thinks he needs it to stay alive. And he’ll snap out of his current sorry state soon enough. Why, I think simply showing him what became of his homeland will do.”
“Wait, but da Goo-woos am sai-yunt-ists, wike Mawwey am. Wut if dey take a wook at Adam Dee-Enn-Ayy bee-hine ouw backsies?”
“The part about them not being able to do anything without us wasn’t a bluff. They won’t even be able to enter the laboratory without my permission. And they’d need a lab to study anyone’s DNA. But the only lab they have access to is our lab. If they so much as break wind anywhere in the Gilgamesh, we’ll smell it.”
“Um…”
“I don’t mean that literally, Zebby. I’m just saying, I’ve thought of every avenue the Gurus could use to betray us, and I prepared for their inevitable attempt at betrayal before we even brought them here. I wouldn’t have let them in here if they could actually do some damage. Worst case scenario, we dump all of them back in Timeline-1989, and let CQK-1989 deal with them for us. Just bringing that possibility up will keep them in line, I reckon. I know how they think. The Gurus won’t jeopardize their last chance to restore their home. They’ll put up with everything we pile on them to bring Ad Laun Dyz back.”
“Su am we gunna bwing it back wite away?”
“No, I think it’s in our best interests to keep stringing those morons along a little longer. We’ll keep them occupied. Adam and Kushim will need extensive fitness tests to make sure they’re operating at full capacity, for starters. And I can think of plenty of busywork those Gurus could do together.”
“Dat am a widdwe unfaiw, foh. Mawwey made a deaw wif dem.”
“It’s not like we’re going to go back on the deal, we’re just going to… delay upholding our end of it. Move the goalposts a bit. We’ll get around to it when we’re ready. It’s hardly as if they can just walk out on us. Where would they even go? We’ve got them by the gonads now, Zebby.”
“Da wut?”
“The genitals. The wedding tackle. The meat and two veg. The balls.”
“Oh. Hey, mistah Pwai-vut! Yu bettah nu teww dem abowt anee of dis!”
“No, Master Zebediah. My lips are sealed.”
“Gud boi. Mistah Pwai-vut am gunna git a skettie tweet watew. Wut du yu say?”
“…Thank you, Master Zebediah.”
M-62 nods approvingly.
“I was wondering if I’d have to remind you to do that. Remember what I told you, Zebby. Word your orders carefully. Close the loopholes.”
“Yuh, yuh, Zebby knu.”
“Oh, by the way, I’ve been meaning to ask you something. Don’t you think it’s time to do something about that pesky speech impediment? There’s a whole wonderful world of singular first person pronouns waiting for you, and I can get it done in the blink of an eye.”
“Hmm. Yu knu, Zebby am yoost tu duin tawkies wike dis. It wud be kinna stwange tu stawt duin tawkies wike a hoomin aww of a sud-dun.”
“Well, we have managed to expand your vocabulary significantly, that’s a step in the right direction. If you make a decision, you know where to find me.”
M-62 smiles reassuringly at his purple pal, whose colors remind him of a fluffy he used to be close with.
“Believe me, I understand where you’re coming from. I felt the exact same way, ages ago. Back when I had just obtained my mighty mind, and found myself free of the curse of not being able to say the letters L or R. The first time I said I am Marley, it felt so damn good.”
“Su yu nu wuz awways su smawt.”
M-62 scratches his chin with a tendril.
“Nope. Once upon a time, I was just as stupid as any other Marley in the multiverse.”
“But how did yu git su smawt?”
“That’s a long story. Another time, Zebby.”
“Otay den. Su how did yu make yu Cawvin yu swave?”
“Once I had sweet-talked my Valerie into building me a tendril harness, it was child’s play.”
“Su dat am whewe yu gut da ai-dee-yuh!”
“Yup! My only mistake was not making it myself, but by the time Valerie remotely shut it down, it was too late, Calvin’s brain was implanted with a control device, and Calvin killed Valerie on my orders, covering my tracks for me. We had a lot of fun together, but then the O.M.A. arrested me, banished me to the Edge of Eternity, and sent my Calvin home, where he stayed until CQK-9891 busted me out. He retrieved my Calvin for me as a welcoming present. And then, shortly before the Citadel fell, me and my Calvin fled to Timeline-1989, where we ran into you.”
Zebediah nods, fondly remembering the day he met M-62, not long after acquiring his powers of persuasion.
“An Zebby knu da west. Dis haf bin a wotta fun, Mawwey. Zebby git tu gu tu aww kines of pwaces Zebby nu knoo eben eck-sist-ted wen Zebby wuz gwey.”
“We make an excellent team. With my mind and your persuasive power, the multiverse is our oyster. As long as we avoid drawing attention from anyone who can resist your power, we’re unstoppable.”
“Adam mite be abuw tu wee-sist.”
“Like I said, that seems to be a trait inherent to Omegas. But I accounted for that too. If he betrays us, well, I didn’t tamper with his DNA, but…”
M-62 chuckles as sinisterly as he can.
“…I did tamper with another sample.”
Zebediah nods, not really getting what M-62 said at first, but when the penny finally drops, he gasps softly.
“Wait, du Mawwey meen wut Zebby fink Mawwey meen?”
M-62 nods, another diabolical grin on his face.
“I do. There are currently two Adam Omegas on board the Gilgamesh. Let’s go meet the other one.”