The Queen of Angels was the Queen of Heven. She was mighty, and she loathed Asgardians, especially Odin. Once upon a time, that wasn't the case. Odin used to pay her and her Angels to prevent Asgardians from going to Midgard. But she wanted more, and when she received an even greater reward from enemies of Asgard, she offered Odin to double-cross her payers in exchange for a bigger reward.

  She had expected that Odin would agree to protect his people. But to her surprise, the Asgardian god acted disgusted, as if her honor was his to decide. When Odin refused her generous offer, she decred war on Asgard.

  During that war, she snuck into Asgard and got hold of Odin's newborn, Aldrif. She hoped to use the newborn daughter to bckmail Odin into a retreat, yet the Asgardian god refused. So, she stabbed Aldrif in the heart. But she underestimated Odin's wrath, as the ancient god used his powers to cut Heven from the other Nine Realms and Yggdrasil, effectively caging the Angels.

  It took so long to free her people from that captivity. And now, she has returned to take her revenge. Though she was surprised to see Odin's daughter alive, now called Ange, calling herself an Angel, a mockery of her species, for the false angel cked wings.

  Who is he?

  And now she floated before this… man? Her senses told her there was more to the story. The creature looked like a man, yet the energies surrounding him felt utterly primordial. It wasn't just his body's age, but the powers. There was light, like fire, around him. There was also darkness, the likes of which she couldn't begin to imagine, cosmic horrors of unimaginable scale. And then there was the trace of madness in his speech.

  "Prepare for Heven's judgement, mortals! Your vile tongue will be matched with the sharpness of my bde—Ugh!"

  Her eyes widened in shock and… dread? How could she? Not even Odin could scare her. How… But the mortal, the vile man, had somehow appeared before her in a snap, his cws had sunk onto her throat, squeezing it so hard that even she, even she couldn't breathe.

  "Goddamit, just because I like your tits, don't mean I won't smack your bitch-ass face."

  "Ugh—"

  For the first time in her long, long life, Queen of Angels felt fear. She couldn't overpower this man with her physical strength. She was punching his chest that whole time, each punch breaking the sound barrier to make an ear-shattering boom.

  Yet he didn't even flinch. Hell, he burped instead and thanked her for it.

  She tried to use her flight to move both of them, but somehow his power overrode her flight.

  She tried to use other powers, the mental ones, and she found a shield around his mind so thick it seemed bigger than the entire pnet. There was no way to enter his mind with brute force.

  "W-What are you?!"

  "Me? I'm Marshall S. Grant, though folks here call me the First Man. What about you, my big-breasted angelic winged fuckable enemy?"

  "..."

  "I-uh…" The Queen of Angels struggled, her eyes red, furious. Her face had gotten pale, ck of air was hurting her. But she gritted and tried to spit on his face, only for that spit to come out as drool instead, spilling from the corner of her lips.

  "Damn, didn't know you were that freaky. You think if we fucked, we can do that eagle thing? You know, when they go up high and then nose-dive like lunatics while still ramming each other?"

  "..."

  "A-Angels… Ah-ttackh!"

  There, she had done it. Gathering all her strength, she had ordered the entire army of Angels to attack this man. And they did just that. The massive horde of winged women with mostly big breasts rushed in with their swords, maces, and hammers.

  Though for some reason, the man giggled, stars in his eyes.

  "Jackpot!"

  What?

  ####

  "Aren't you going to help?" Ange asked as she floated beside her supposed sister.

  He, as cold as ever, stayed in pce, arms crossed, her son having arrived beside her. "He needs no help."

  The two women stayed there and watched as the massive horde of Angels attacked Marshall. But the tides instantly changed as something weird happened. The Queen of Angels was still stuck in Marshall's chokehold.

  Shhhh~

  The horde of Angels shredded him. Though the only things they ended up shredding were Marshall's clothes, now leaving the prehistoric man naked as the day he was born, his butt shining in the sunlight.

  "W-What… What's happening?" Ange excimed.

  He shrugged again, saying nothing.

  "Dad's butt is shiny!" Helvar sure was enjoying it, however. Who knew where he got that bucket of popcorn from.

  Booom!

  An explosion of fire erupted then, and all the Angels were thrown away, their clothes and armors melted, leaving each one of them naked, even the Queen of Angels. For a visible moment, Marshall froze, his eyes going over so many rge, perfect breasts, each a stunner.

  Wooosh!

  And then came out hundreds of massive tentacles from Marshall's back, endlessly long as they tried to grab a few Angels, and succeeded. The Angels cried, or was it moaned? Nobody knew, but Marshall was winning with ease.

  "..."

  "W-What?" Ange, beside He, gawked at it all, moving her gaze between He and Marshall. "W-What is he?"

  For a moment, even He's eyes twitched. "We don't know."

  "What do you mean? Isn't he a mortal? A human?"

  He shook her head and finally looked at her sister. "He's older than Zeus and Odin combined. He once started as a human, but he's no longer one."

  In silence, He thought of Marshall's life and sighed. Being the only one aware of how Marshall's own body had continuously ruined his mind over such a long time, she couldn't help but feel a tinge of pity for her… accepted choice of mate.

  "Yeah, Dad's brain is fucked six ways to Sunday," Helvar blurted, his mouth full of popcorn. "One time, I saw him ranting at a cat for three bloody hours straight. He kept asking when the damn thing was gonna sprout hips and become a cat-girl. Then he started rambling about alien cat-girls in space… What's a catgirl?"

  "..."

  Ange judged hard. She judged this family with serious worry. They were off the rails, each one of them—even He.

  Boom!

  Another explosion rang, and half of the Angels got knocked out, still clutched in countless tentacles that wrapped all over their nude bodies, over their breasts, circling each of their thighs near the groin.

  Ange could sense the presence of a dark entity emanating from the man, an entity that was ancient. And then there was a warm, light entity that was older than the universe. She was left scratching her head, confused, amused, annoyed, and slightly afraid.

  "Holy hell, that’s all you’ve got, my sinfully gorgeous, chest-blessed Angels?!"

  Then there was the insanity that the man spewed from his mouth. At that point, he was toying with the Angels, not even fighting.

  "Fuck me sideways, I can’t believe I’m saying this but… I’m actually jealous of the Dad right now," Hevar muttered, the mutt in him growling along.

  Bam!

  Yet all he received was a knuckle on his head from He.

  In time, Marshall subdued each one of the hundred or so Angels, each nude, each captured in a tentacle except for the Queen of Angels, still caught by her throat. The Queen wasn't even fighting anymore, just hung there limp, not unconscious, just defeated. Likely realised she chewed more than she could swallow.

  ####

  Asgard,

  "We must go and aid Midgard, Father!" Thor roared as he struck another Dark Elf.

  It was a mess everywhere. Asgard was under attack by the Dark Elves, and it was a full-scale assault. Asgardians were overwhelmed by the number, as there were more than just Dark Elves.

  "Restrain your ignorance, my son. Any who set foot in Midgard deserve our prayers, that their end be swift and not as Marshall’s pything."

  Thor frowned; he wanted to refute. But he didn't. He had seen what happened to Zeus.

  ####

  "So? Ready to talk?" Marshall asked the Queen of Angels, release her neck just enough so she could speak. "What's your name?"

  "Seraphiel… Sire."

  "Fuck, don't talk to me like that, I'm already too hard," Marshall warned. "Why'd you attack my world? Even Odin doesn't dare come here without my permission."

  She could honestly understand why. "I-I… Malekith promised… to weaken the… Asgardians and… We… were trapped in… the void. We want a new home."

  "So your dumb bimbo brains lured you here? Because what better pce than powerless apes?" Marshall's grip tightened on her throat. "Wrong move. You fucked around and found out."

  "P-Please… We—"

  "Don't listen to her!" Ange, the woman who had been fighting with He before, flew over; she had no wings. "She speaks only to deceive. The Angels are driven by selfish desires. She brought war to Asgard when Odin rejected her bckmail, and she tried to end my life when I was a child. Greed is all she understands."

  "Oh? So a gold digger?" Marshall squinted at Seraphiel, Queen of Angels. "Look at that, halo-headed tit-monster. All that holy thunder, all them shiny wings, queenly horse-shit title, and still nothing but a damn money chasing hoe."

  "We-eh…"

  SPLASH!

  All of a sudden, Marshall clenched his grip so hard that it tore through Seraphiel's throat. So hard he broke her neck and then further, beheaded her with just his insane grip. But he was no fool; all his life, for a hundred million years, he'd only known survival and fighting.

  Lessons he had learned were carved in his head, like muscle memory. Before the Queen of Angels' body could drop down into the sea, he burned her with cosmic fmes, turning her to less than ash. That way, there was no chance of her one day returning like some Frankenstein cosmic monster.

  "And now you." He squeezed the naked Angels tighter in the tentacles and squinted at them. "So, how many of you chicks are there? Your holy dump not enough?"

  "Slightly over one and a half million," Ange replied from the side, still shaken by how easily the Queen was killed.

  Marshall didn't speak for some time. Instead, he looked at He, his wife in all but name. Then he looked down at the isnds of Dinosia, not too far away. He was sure they were watching him py with nude Angels and stroking themselves.

  "Hmm… By stroking, I remembered something." Marshall hummed. He had recently been made aware of a problem that Dinosia was facing. And it was called birth-rate colpse. The problem arose from the fact that everyone was a super nerd. Most of them could barely tie their shoeces despite being insanely intelligent, even the women.

  That led to fewer marriages as most men and women chose to just have flings to satisfy their sexual needs. They were too intelligent not to realise that they honestly didn't need to marry and get tied to just one partner. Or maybe they were inspired by the First Man.

  In any case, because of the influx of scientists from outside, the sex ratio had become an issue. While the popution was eight million, extremely industrialized and modernized, the sex ratio was eight hundred women per one thousand men. That meant half a million men had no pussy to drown in.

  And pussy to drown in was as important as a cock to ride. Marshall knew that, not the riding part though; he didn't swing that way. He wasn't Zeus.

  Hence, there he was now, staring at these insanely, drop-dead gorgeous, greedy Angels with massive white wings. For a fact, Marshall knew that Dinosian men were nerds, and nerds were often freaky. Just as he was aroused by alien women, he knew Dinosian nerds would drool at having an angel wife with wings.

  And since Dinosia was his pet-project experiment, it made sense. Angels were superior humanoids; their intelligence was likely decent, higher than average humans, by the sheer fact that they were a far more ancient and space-faring species.

  On top of that, by adding Angels into the isnd, and soon having little angel babies, he'd normalise the presence of non-typical looking humans, making it easier for non-human looking mutants to live.

  "Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit, Shit!"

  Bam! Bam! Bam!

  All of a sudden, Marshall began to smack himself on his head. He smacked himself so hard that each time, a sonic boom resonated. His eyes turned red, his breath heavy as a beast tried to unravel his mind. Trying to think on a single subject for so long wasn't easy for him. It pained him in ways that he couldn't expin.

  "Fuck!"

  And then there was the eternal asshole, his arch-nemesis, Mephisto. As soon as Marshall felt his mind weaken in pain, that chant of sex, sex, sex returned to control him. But now there were more, darker, even more dangerous than Mephisto. He could feel it, a result of the tentacle monster he had killed. He didn't know what it was, but the creature was sentient, ancient, and magical.

  "Ha! I'll go check Odin! Probably got his ass beat."

  He changed the topic instantly, keeping his thoughts divided into various little portions, instead of focusing on one thing too much.

  "So here is the bargain, you coin-chasing cherubs… I'll let you squat in my kingdom. Down below, it's called Dinosia. You become citizens, you live like goddamn, sugar-bright people. No bloodshed, no backstabbing. You will woo men and bear children, not by force; it is your choice which man you favor," Marshall spat.

  "You accept, or I'll burn your tiny Heven."

  Was it bckmail? Fuck yeah, it was. As Ange said, they only knew the nguage of gold digging or… the strength they couldn't defeat.

  "Y-You'll let us live here and mate?" One of the Angels asked from a tentacle grasp.

  "Live, date, marry, pop babies, whole nine yards. Why, interested?"

  "Yes!"

  "..."

  The hell? They're excited? Marshall expected them to cry about how they were so pure and their pussies were meant for noble warriors like him, and that humans were beneath him, but… that didn't happen.

  "We'd love to!"

  "If you'll have us, this will be our home and we'll guard it with our lives."

  Gold-digging, protective, breedable hoes? That's new.

  Sensing his confusion, Ange spoke with a sigh. "Don't be surprised, F-First Man. We Angels have been held captive in the void for so long that… much has changed. If what you offer them is real, I believe they'll even accept you as their god. More so since the Queen is dead."

  "And you? You're like them?" Marshall asked, unashamedly ogling at her.

  Ange looked away with an embarrassed smile. "I'm… still exploring myself."

  "Hmm, we can explore together someday. Anyway, do what I said. He’s gonna stroll you over to the High Priestess of my temple. She’ll babble ws at you, point out your new digs, and maybe even toss you into my temple. Pce is huge as hell, and honestly, having winged beauties around is fucking dope."

  At st, Marshall released the Angels from his slightly slippery tentacles, still naked as he was.

  "Now make me a fucking portal to Asgard, just the way you came here."

  No questions were asked. No buts and ifs, well, there were a lot of bubbly pretty butts, but they were angles. The dies with wings moved and performed whatever magic they used to create the Bifrost teleportation effect, just darker. It fell on Marshall and took him away.

  Ange, standing not far away, frowned. She looked back at He and still… the woman was unbothered.

  "The whole pnet is bizarre."

  ####

  Asgard,

  Sif was struggling. The Dark Elves came out of nowhere, almost destroyed their Bifrost, and overwhelmed them by first releasing Mangog on them and then striking at them when they were about to defeat Mangog.

  Odin had to force himself up from his Odin sleep because, really, they weren't prepared for such an attack by so many different enemies.

  "Ugh!"

  She swung her bde and cut down the Dark Elves. But the ones flying in the sky made sure to ruin her flow. Cuts and bruises marred her skin. Not far were the Warriors Three.

  "Die, Asgardian!"

  And then came the horror. Another rge ship full of Dark Elves nded nearby, a horde of Dark Elves unched towards them. She was surrounded right away, truly overwhelmed this time.

  She channeled all the strength she had in her body and…

  Spsh!

  Spsh!

  Spsh!

  It wasn't her. She heard something, something getting closer. One look, and she saw the massive horde around her get obliterated in the distance. It was like a storm was passing through them, shattering them, exploding them in a cloud of blood.

  Spsh! Spsh!

  It came closer, and finally she saw him. If it was him, there was hope. But… He was naked? Why? She could swear she saw a hammer dangling between his legs. Was that a hammer? Or… Oh!

  "Look at the fuckers! Ganging up on a pretty dy. That shit's only good in high production value porn, buddy!"

  She knew not what the First Man uttered, but he flew around her, spttering all the Dark Elves by the sheer force and speed of his body. He wasn't even punching. He just flew, ying waste to them, to the entire horde. He kept flying around until just a handful were left.

  Then he flew away, likely to aid someone else.

  ####

  Marshall honestly didn't know what he was doing since he wasn't thinking at all. He just let his instincts control him, and right now, his instincts told him to destroy whatever dared to look at Earth.

  And destroy he did.

  He saw Odin battling a strange, yellow creature with three cws, half-caveman, and Jesus knew what the rest was. Clearly, Odin wasn’t struggling, but Odin wasn't giving his all either. So he didn't bother and looked at the creature, who seemed like the leader of the Dark Elves.

  Woosh!

  He flew towards the creature, blue-skinned and hideous. Nothing stood in his way; he spttered all the Dark Elves in his path, and before long, he had the Dark Elf leader by the throat. He flew higher, taking the creature with him.

  "You Milk-teeth?"

  "Release me, you wretch! Who—"

  Sp!

  Marshall spped the fucker and knocked ten of his teeth out, all flying off in the air. Once he was sure the fucker wouldn't speak again, he flew back to Odin.

  "Odin, wave your sparkly bullshit and yeet me straight onto this bastard’s dirtball."

  Odin, fighting the weird creature with ease, smiled towards Marshall. "Welcome to Asgard, my friend… despite the nude attire."

  "Sup."

  "Ugh… Unhand m—"

  Sp!

  Marshall spped the blue fucker again and knocked out some more teeth.

  "Send me to the Dark Elf’s pnet."

  Odin rubbed his beard with one hand while his other hand fought the creature. "Hmm… That can be arranged. Albeit the Bifrost is damaged. But Malekith did make a new one. Go to Heimdall, he'll aid you."

  "Sweet!"

  Not a second wasted, Marshall flew to the Bifrost control center or whatever it was. He found the tall man with a big ass sword. He didn't have to expin as Heimdall opened the portal for him; this one was darker.

  "Let's see."

  With that, he crossed the portal and found himself standing on a very wooded pnet, mostly dark green with a lot of rocks. Though that wasn't his intention. Holding the blue shit all the same, he flew up to the near edge of the atmosphere, where his captive could breathe a little but wouldn't die. Not all were made like him for deep space.

  "Argh… Wh-What… Who are you?"

  Marshall didn't sp him this time. He clutched the neck tighter and stared at his face. "The guy you shouldn't mess with. The guy who fucks your woman then ughs at your face… fuck, that's evil. No, I mean, I'm the guy who kills you and fucks your woman, shit, shit, that's worse! Anyway, fuck you, and fuck your wife, and your goddamn pnet. You wanted my pnet, you tried, my turn. But I don't want your pnet, you know. Though I like blue chicks, but seeing how fugly you are, nah, I'll pass."

  "..."

  Malekith groaned, barely awake. He was a mighty creature with superhuman strength, speed, and everything else. Yet, he couldn't free himself from this man's grasp. His punches had no effect on him.

  "My people will… never surrender!"

  "Who the fuck said I wanted you to surrender? Listen here, you smurfed ass personification of erectile dysfunction! I’m here to erase your whole miserable pnet off the damn map. You get it? Boom, crunch, smash, puff—Gone with the wind type shit."

  "Hah, you will? My peo—"

  "Keep rambling."

  Crimson fmes covered Marshall's entire body. He had never done this before, but he felt like he could do it. His fire didn't hurt the blue guy, as he wanted the fucker to watch and feel everything. Was it an overreaction? Hell yeah, it was.

  Did he fucking care? Fuck no!

  Why? Because he didn't bother thinking.

  His instincts told him to end this threat once and for all.

  And he was going to do it.

  "Buckle your seatbelt, prepare for the ride, careful if you shit and wet yourself, the ride's about to be…" He dived down towards the pnet like a meteor. "Fucking bumpy!"

  Shhhhh~

  Marshall turned into an insanity of fireball, cosmic fmes coating him, growing bigger and bigger, taking the shape and size of an actual falling meteor, crashing through the burning atmosphere. Larger than what took Marty's family, rger than what created the moon.

  And during that entire time, he held Malekith by the nape in front of himself, his blue face turned towards the pnet.

  "Watch! Watch what happens when an ant like you fights a… whatever."

  BOOM!

  When he hit the ground, the pnet cracked open, as that was his goal. The impact split ndmasses apart, stone and soil thrown up like broken gss under a hammer. He dived through the surface, kept going, passing multiple yers of ndmass.

  Malekith had the front seat for it all.

  Boom!

  The ground ripped wide in every direction across the entire pnet. The damage was too much, too fast, and too rough. Mountains colpsed pnetwide, oceans boiled into clouds of steam, and volcanoes burst over every single major and minor fault line, throwing rivers of molten rock across the world. Forests caught fire in seconds and turned to ash. Creatures and cities were erased before they could even cry out.

  "Having fun?"

  He asked, unable to see what Malekith's reaction was.

  He drove straight through the pnet, fire tearing through rock and metal, his body punching a path through its core at st, even that didn't stand a chance. The crust caved in behind him, magma pouring out like spilled blood. Everything alive was burned or crushed in his wake.

  At st, the pnet gave way. It broke apart with a deafening roar, exploding into pieces that scattered into space. It was Marshall's own energy that made the pnet explode like that, like a single, gigantic firework dispy.

  What was once a living world became nothing more than drifting rubble, destroyed by one man burning like a god.

  At st, he flew into the dark space and turned around to watch what was left of the pnet, and there wasn't much left. Moon-sized chunks of pnets floated everywhere, no trace of anything left.

  Finally, he turned Malekith towards himself. As expected, the man was awake, eyes wide, tears flooding, snout messing his lower face, his entire body limp, probably mind-broken.

  "Shocked? Not gonna say How could you! You monster!" Marshall snarled, pressing harder on the neck. "That’s where your dumb ass slipped. Just because they call me a god doesn’t mean I give a rat’s ass. Yeah, I’m a loony monster. And in a fight between me versus you, I'll show you the monster. Sleep now, you damn blueberry freak."

  Poof!

  He squeezed the neck until it exploded, and then burned the bastard with fmes.

  At st, he looked at the destruction he had caused, and honestly, he felt absolutely nothing. He delights, no hurt, no sadness. To him, the Dark Elves were nothing, really. The Dark Elves were given free will, and they chose to use that to cause madness. And what he did was what he used to do to those annoying dinosaurs and animals back in the day—butcher them.

  Honestly, at this point, life and death didn’t mean shit. The only pnet and people he cared for were Earth and humans. It was his nd, his pnet, his territory, and if anyone fucked with it again, he was willing to repeat this a thousand times.

  And he knew where he wanted to go next.

  The Kree… I can smell their bullshit. They gotta be sniffing around my nd still—ugh.

  But suddenly, something strange happened.

  "What the…"

  He felt tired, insanely tired. It felt as if he lost control over his body and just… passed out, floating in dark space. Thankfully, he had killed that octopus thing, and now he didn't need air to live.

  ####

  Dinosia Port,

  Albert Einstein exited the inner quarters of the ship to arrive at the deck. The ship had come to a halt, and he had arrived at his destination. He was alone, however, leaving his wife and son back in Switzernd.

  "Fresh air."

  He murmured, eyeing the entire port, its beauty, the absolute scale of it. Ships upon ships arrived and departed. Machines he'd never seen operated. Trains that didn't spew steam moved cargo, and trucks that didn't resemble anything in America or Europe roamed.

  It was already night, and the entire port was lit with massive electricity poles and strange lights. They had no bulbs.

  "Another life's goal completed," he thought and moved to the stairway leading down from the ship. Coming to Dinosia was every intellect's dream, like a pilgrimage. He felt at peace now. Though there was also excitement.

  Months ago, when Max Pnck had approached him and had revealed that he was now a Dinosian, he was surprised. The man had introduced the quantum hypothesis, the very foundation of quantum theory.

  Imagine his shock when Pnck showed him an entire hand-written booklet filled with physics and mathematics theorems and derivations, and so much more. All of it was foreign, never seen before.

  And then imagine his shock when he learned that the First Man, the Father of Science, had captured an alien ship from space, and all this new science was from reverse engineering the spacecraft. He learned about space, artificial gravity, and the peculiar thing called Jump Points, the use of wormholes to teleport.

  So when offered an invitation to come and research the alien spacecraft, he jumped at the opportunity. He took the earliest Dinosian ship from France and arrived in Dinosia.

  And now, as he was being transported in the rather luxurious car, he realised that there was far more to learn from Dinosia than just the alien craft.

  "What is that, my friend?"

  "That? Space observatory. They’re scribbling down space stuff because the University’s itching to fly a rocket to the moon real soon."

  "..."

  Albert Einstein, merely twenty-six, already the creator of the special theory of retivity, stared at the boy who looked sixteen at best. "To the moon?"

  "Why the hell not? Ain’t rocket science. Well, okay, it is rocket science. I studied that alien rust bucket, and the thrusters were so advanced they made us look like cavemen humping rocks. But guess what? We’ve cribbed enough to make our own junk fly far. Far enough to punch the Moon square in the ass. Soon, some guy will be walking on the Moon, I bet ya."

  Einstein frowned; he didn't like the way this boy talked. Already, he pnned to file a compint about his behavior. Such behavior by a student was unacceptable. But he didn't bother right now.

  "And will this space mission be international? It's… such a big step for humanity."

  "International? Why?" the boy asked, driving with just one hand while the other grabbed a sandwich from somewhere. He was eating while driving.

  "Because the First Man is the father of science, isn't he? He'll want the entire world's scientific community to learn from this."

  "Pffft! Hah! That bastard doesn’t give a rat’s hairy ass, old man. He’s the sort who chucks a coin at your skull and tells you to go fry an egg," the boy snorted, but then frowned and extended his half-eaten sandwich to Einstein. "You want a bite?"

  "..."

  "Uh. No, thank you."

  "Suit yourself. The damn university ain’t a stroll away. Anyway, what I was saying, why the bleeding fuck would we share a single crumb with those ape-shit lunatics? Thousands of years they’ve been bashing skulls, ripping guts, all for nd. Land! Then they cook up colonies, snuff out whole peoples, and chain others like cattle. Svery, genocide, the works. Fuck those apes. No sense in showing them how to climb the stars when they can’t even stumble their way into decency."

  Einstein watched the boy finish that sandwich, then open a glove box and grab another. The entire fucking glovebox was filled with wrapped sandwiches, dozens of them.

  "Mmm… Mom makes the best stuff."

  "..."

  "Well, I suppose there is reason in your words. To hand such technology, they'll only use it for destruction." Einstein muttered. "Yet I can't digest it. If the First Man is such a shallow being, how can he be the father of science? Even the god of science we call him. Shouldn’t such a being share knowledge with all, not hoard it?"

  "Damn right. He's a zy ass. You don't think he's a god?"

  Hearing the boy criticise the so-called god, Einstein nodded confidently. "I never thought so before, but after learning about the spacecraft, I wonder if the First Man might have come from somewhere outside, extraterrestrial."

  "Pfft, probably. He’s what? A million? Hell, that’s some dust-caked dinosaur ass right there."

  "He's that old?"

  "Sure is, they got all them proof and shit in the temple. Anyway, fuck them apes! They tried to catch me once, you know. I was just minding my ass in the sea, swimming. They figured I was some mermaid prize. Dumb whoresons. Do these look like sea tits to you?"

  The boy used both hands to squeeze his chest, as if to reassure he really didn’t have breasts.

  "..."

  The more the boy talked, the more Einstein felt there was something wrong. Why did the University send someone so unsophisticated like him? It made no sense.

  "I think that age alone does not give anyone the right to keep knowledge to themselves. The world may be thankful for his efforts to preserve it, but I believe he's personally unsophisticated. He doesn’t seem to understand the true worth of sharing wisdom. Even in the way he dresses, he clings to the past. That is why I cannot think of him as a god.”

  "Then what about Jesus?" the boy asked.

  Einstein hummed. "Such a vast faith, yet resting only on faith itself. I cannot judge Jesus, for he is not here with us. But the First Man is. And if he stands by while svery and wars and colonies tear people apart, then he cannot be God."

  "Hmm, so he's supposed to be humanity’s mutt, huh? Bite their ass when they screw it up? He did gut that Leo King, though."

  "I read about it. But one good deed—"

  Einstein paused as he saw a massive arched gate with ‘Dinosia National University’ written on it. Too excited, he no longer bothered to talk.

  Beep! Beep!

  The boy banged on the steering wheel time and time again as the car rolled into the rge driveway beside the rge building's welcoming entrance.

  Einstein already saw a dozen faces that he recognised. At the front was Max Pnck, who had initially invited him.

  "Welcome to Dinosia, Albert." Pnck greeted him.

  Einstein quickly got out of the car, grabbed his suitcase, and shook hands with Pnck as well as many others. But then he heard the car's engine rev, and he turned to look at the boy in the driving seat.

  "What's your name?"

  "Huh?" The boy was busy eating his fifth sandwich. "Me? I'm Helvar."

  Einstein nodded, a stern expression on his face. "While I'm grateful that you drove me here, I must make a formal compint about your behavior and your foul speech. This University—"

  The boy, Helvar, revved the car louder, rolling his eyes.

  "This is not how someone from DNU should carry himself. There are so many who dream of studying here and never get the chance. You ought to show some gratitude."

  Einstein almost flinched when he saw a hint of anger on the boy's face.

  "Stop yapping and do your job, Nerd."

  "..."

  Einstein, also a man in his te twenties, felt angry. He tried to approach the boy, but the car moved away, its engine making too much noise and then…

  "W-What…" Einstein stuttered. "H-How is that car flying away?"

  Pat!

  He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked behind to find Max Pnck with a deep frown on his face.

  "What did you do… Albert?"

  "Me? I was only correcting h—"

  "Albert, he's the trueborn son of the First Man and He, the Goddess of Death."

  "..."

  "Wh… I-I… I just…"

  Albert looked at the sky. The car had flown away. He looked back at Pnck and then other researchers, all frowning.

  Thud!

  Einstein fell, his legs noodle, his hands shivering, and his lips… cursing.

  "Fuck."

  ####

  Unknown Pce,

  Marshall groaned as he slowly opened his eyes. He felt warm; the bed underneath him was very soft. It was absolutely silent there, not a single noise. Not even air. And as his eyes opened, he looked at the deep, dark sky. But then he looked to the right, and it was also dark, except for the bright floor, made entirely out of countless little bones.

  "Did I die?"

  He sat up, curious. He didn't expect to die just from an exploding pnet. A star? Maybe. But a pnet? Hell no.

  "Mmm… This way, love."

  Marshall jumped from bed and turned his head towards the voice and… froze, while his cock jumped for joy. A beauty of incredible charm sat there in a very high throne, which was also made of small bones.

  She sat there cross-legged in what he could describe as the hottest attire a woman had ever worn. A leather bikini? All bck. Leather thigh-high stockings with the garter straps and all. Then, a big leather cape on her back, bck outside, red inside.

  "This is either the best morning of my life or I'm about to bust a nut in my sleep. God damn!"

  The woman herself, fuck! She was white as ash, as pale as the color white itself, her eyes entirely bnk with a faint grey pupil, her lips painted in very dark red lipstick, her hair long and also ptinum white. She wasn't that tall, a head shorter than him, her body built to admire, fring hips and round breasts.

  The woman chuckled from her throne and stood up, only making Marshall's cock rise straight ninety degrees. And yes, he was still as naked as the moment he left earth, and yes, the woman was eying his shaft.

  "I can think of only one other fool who ever dreamed of this… meeting Death herself," she purred, her voice silky and deliberate, as if it could slip past reason. "But you are no fool, are you? You’re like me… endless, restless, chasing the rare sparks that make eternity bearable."

  "Fuck yes!" Marshall barked, his cock nodding like it had a vote in the matter. "Ain't nothing more exciting than an albino vampire goth in a skimpy dress."

  "..."

  "I believed I had braced myself for your unusual speech, though it seems you still found a way to surprise me." A low, melodic chuckle escaped her lips. Step by step, she drew nearer until the gap between them was just an inch from the tip of his cock, throbbing so close to her belly below the visible bellybutton.

  Marshall was staring at her with no shame, down at her round breasts, at her insanely pale skin. Then he looked at her face, and damn, she was fucking hot.

  "He told me about you once. So, am I dead? Wait, are you the one keeping me alive all this time?"

  “Oh, I cannot, even if I desired to,” She quickly answered, as if she sensed the sudden fir of anger in him. She slipped closer, tilting just enough that his hardness pressed into her side. Her fingers curled around his cock, while her other hand swept gently across his jaw, her touch cold and intent. “Immortality and invincibility weigh upon you like chains. Such sorrow in a man so strong. I would have eased it with a kiss. Yet for all my power, I cannot grant you death. This body, yes, but you would always return.”

  Marshall grunted, his right hand sliding up to her curving waist. Soft as a damn feather and cold as a corpse. "Then? What’s with the whole whorehouse costume party?"

  Death giggled and licked her lips, her tongue as red as blood. “Curiosity… a soul beyond my grasp. Even the Celestials tremble at the thought of you.”

  "They fear me?"

  "Why else would Earth remain untouched? They could have ended you, yet they never even tried. They even whored Eternals to you."

  "And you?"

  "Oh, Marshall," she purred as her cool body melted against his chest. Her cold hand was already stroking him. "I do not fear you, though you could bring my end. We both know there are far better, more delicious reasons to remain... allied. Don’t we?"

  "I can see two, very big reasons."

  "Haha." She ughed and winked. With that, her leather bra entirely vanished. "Like what you see?"

  "Fuck! You sure you're Death and not Aphrodite?"

  Marshall gawked at her breasts, so full and lovely. Not the fake, silicone shit he remembered from the future. No, these were perfect. Full, proud, and soft enough to tempt even the gods. Her skin was so pale it was almost surreal, veins faintly visible beneath the snowy flesh. She wasn’t white like some earth chick on a beach in December. She was white, like fresh paint. Like a ghost you could actually touch, if a ghost’s flesh felt this supple under his palms.

  "Creatures such as us, Marshall, we live bound in our own design. Still, there are rare delights… and they are ours to savor."

  “What the hell you want?” Marshall sneered, his hand squeezing her ass like he owned the thing. "I can smell bullshit from a mile away. Sure, I’ll fuck you till the sun forgets to rise, but why the hell should I?”

  Not acting shocked, Death stroked him faster and gently slid down. Her cape vanished on its own as she squatted on her heels, his thickness right at her smirking lips, the color of their bodies stood out in contrast, his human pale and hers deathly white.

  "An experiment, perhaps? I do wonder, Marshall, what fate might be born if two such beings as we dared to create life together. Tell me…" She asked, staring up at him as she y his thick, lengthy cock ft on her face, her lips kissing his underside while it pulsed with heat against her forehead.

  "You want me to pump my load in you?"

  "Oh," she let a quiet giggle slip as her tongue drew a long, chilling stroke along his cock, pausing to taste the tender slit. "I can produce life even with a single drop of your blood. But I think you are the kind of man who delights in the… natural process."

  Marshall grunted, stiff as steel. He felt her long, red-nailed fingers completely engulf his thickness, a rare thing despite her height. He throbbed and broke. "Fuck I do! Suck it!"

  With a slow, deliberate smile, Death parted her painted lips and slid his cock inside. Her mouth was impossibly cold, a chilling sheath that still managed to suck him down with ease.

  But Marshall wasn’t about to let her py it slow. His hands cmped into her hair, fisting thick handfuls, and in one savage thrust, he buried himself to the hilt.

  “Gaaaaah! Fucking freezing in there!” Marshall roared, grinding her pale face hard into his crotch. His hips snapped forward and stayed there, his cock ramming her throat so deep her nose mashed against his pubes. He ground her left and right, smearing her against his groin like she was nothing but a hole he was testing for fit.

  Her bnk eyes stared upward, her lips stretched tight around his girth, dark red lipstick smearing into a mess across his shaft. And she didn’t choke. She didn’t gag. Not a single tear.

  She was Death itself, a goddess who ended everything with a touch, while he was the mad bastard who couldn’t die. Together, they were fucking chaos.

  He took total control, turning her throat into his pocket pussy, hammering her mouth like he owned it. Each thrust made his cock vanish into those cold, smirking lips, slick with spit and lipstick stains.

  Instead of breaking down like others, she looked up at him, eyes half-lidded, taunting, daring him to go harder.

  "Mmmmm!" Her moan vibrated up his shaft.

  “Fuck!” Marshall barked, shuddering as her hum buzzed right through his cock. How the hell did she moan when he was wrecking her face like this?

  Gluk! Gluk!

  The sounds her throat made were wet and brutal. His cock smmed into her throat again and again, the suction pulling him in, the friction slicked by drool spilling down her chin in heavy strands.

  She was cold, so fucking cold. Not winter-cold, but corpse-cold, bloodless, like his cock was the only source of heat inside her. And that was the strangest, filthiest contrast. His burning thickness surrounded by her deathly chill. The more he thrust, the more his heat seemed to steam inside her, and the sensation was so thrilling, so fresh, it made his knees tremble.

  Her tongue wasn’t passive either. It curled and slithered around him, tracing the thick underside, massaging the vein, teasing his tiny opening with a flick that made his cock throb like it was about to blow. Every moan, every movement of that cold, wet tongue was like some eldritch magic spell designed to wring cream out of him. It was otherworldly. Too good. Too much!

  His balls tightened, his cock twitched, and for a terrifying second, he felt his edge rushing in too fast. He almost lost it, almost painted her throat in thick, molten ropes.

  But no. That wasn’t the goal!

  "Alright, time for the creampie," he growled, yanking her head back so his spit-slick cock popped free with a wet plop, smeared in drool and lipstick.

  Marshall pulled out, grabbed her arm, and yanked her to her feet.

  Death rose effortlessly, regal even with spit shining down her chin and her lips swollen from cockwork. Her leather panties were already gone, vanished into nothing like smoke, leaving her pale slit glistening and bare. She stood in only her long bck gloves and her sharp-heeled thigh-high boots. A Deadly Goddess indeed.

  "Yeah, I can imagine this… for a thousand years." He muttered, palming her tits, feeling those slightly grey nipples. He wasn't fucking an alien; she was a cosmic being. And he was enjoying it.

  Death chuckled softly, like silk torn across bone. Her lips parted in a knowing grin. “Then let’s begin… in the most primal of ways.”

  Her body rippled with a faint shimmer as she slipped from his grasp, moving onto the bed. She went down on all fours, her perfect hips swaying, crawling until her hips were just at the edge. There, she spread her knees wide, her feet dangling off, her face pressed into the bedding as she arched her ass high. She looked back over her shoulder, her lips curling into a sultry, teasing smile.

  Marshall froze for a second, his eyes glued to the sight of her spread. “God… damn…”

  He moved closer, gaze locked on that pale masterpiece. Her ass was perfect, round and smooth as marble, her wrinkled star-shaped hole ashen grey, tight and inviting. Lower still, her pussy glistened, wet, dripping, but not the pink he expected. It was white, like the rest of her. White with faint shades of grey when he spread her open, her pussy lips stretching long and deep.

  "He's gonna be… fucking jealous!"

  He lined himself up, smearing her pale folds with the swollen tip of his cock, smearing her juices along his shaft. Then, without hesitation, he rammed in.

  One brutal, merciless plunge.

  Death’s back arched instantly, her knuckles tightening in the bedding as a sharp gasp escaped her lips. She could take it; she was a goddess. But still, the way her body twitched, the way her mouth opened, it was real. She was either pying the game or she was actually feeling pleasure. Maybe both.

  "Fuuuuuck! Snug!" Marshall growled as his cock bottomed out in her, his hips pressed flush against her icy ass. "And fucking… Winter inside!"

  Her pussy was colder than her mouth, an arctic grip that clung to him like frostbite. But the friction of his thrusts started to warm her, every pump igniting her insides like kindling. The contrast was insane, his cock burning, her cunt freezing. He wanted to scorch her from the inside out, melt her with nothing but his smoldering fire-stick.

  He grabbed her asscheeks, his fingers digging into her fwless skin, and rammed forward. Back and forth. Harder and harder. His whole body snapped like stretched rubber, the same strength that had shattered a pnet only hours ago. And against her, it didn’t ruin. Each thrust nded with booming, wet sps that echoed in the deathly silence.

  Smack! Pp! Smack!

  It was filthy. It was raw. It was hot and cold at once, like fucking a gcier on fire.

  “Winter is coming, babyyyyyyyy!” Marshall howled.

  Then he felt it. Her pussy cmped hard around him, a sudden spasm that gripped his cock like an ice-cold fist. He hadn’t expected her to come. He didn’t even know if Death could climax. But her cunt was tightening, pulling, demanding. He bottomed out eagerly, burying himself in the abyss, cock twitching wildly.

  "Here it comes! One fat load of baby batter—And that'll be… zero fucking dolrs, for this fine… ass—Gaaaaah!"

  Yeah, Marshall was insane. Insane enough to ugh through the madness of fucking Death herself. Hours ago, he’d destroyed a fucking pnet, and now he was destroying her perfect pale cunt.

  Pp! Pp!

  He didn’t stop fucking, even as he came. No, he hammered into her, using her body like a pump as his cock unloaded violently.

  His cock gushed thick, scorching hot seed into her frozen cunt, and the sensation was electric. He watched it change her, watched her pussy turn slicker, warmer, wetter with every pump. His heat spread through her insides, warming her up from the inside out, turning her cold cavern into something that clung to him like a real, needy cunt.

  Cream frothed and bubbled around his shaft, spilling out in messy spurts every time he pulled back, only to be rammed back in. The more he pistoned, the more her pussy foamed, gooey white froth coating him, mixing with her deathly juices until it looked obscene.

  "Time to… go… Superman!"

  Did she know what that meant? Probably not. Did he give a fuck? Hell no.

  "Oooooh! You’re… the most exciting… partner… yet," Death cooed, body trembling into something needy, greedy for more.

  “Damn right,” Marshall growled as he tugged her arms behind her back, right near the tail of her spine, seizing both wrists in one massive fist of his. He pulled them up and back until her spine arched into a perfect curve, her pale swells jolted forward, her head raised high.

  Fuck yeah! She knows!

  Death obeyed without resistance, letting him bend her like a fucking action figure.

  She went further, getting into the position he wanted. Her cold, lethal legs snaked backwards around his hips, crossing behind his back, locking him in. She wrapped herself completely around his body, supporting herself on his saluting cock.

  Marshall stepped backward, muscles bulging, and lifted her clean off the bed. Her body dangled in the air, impaled on his cock, her wrists pinned behind her in his grip as her heavy pair of tits swayed in the cold air.

  "That's what I'm talking about!"

  Marshall snarled, pumping his hips. It was utter madness. He fucked her while walking across the floor of bones, her pale body bouncing on his cock with every step. Her bosom swung like heavy bells, her long ptinum hair whipping wild as her head jerked with each sm. His thighs crashed against hers, sending cracks echoing through with every impact.

  Pp! Pp! Squelch!

  "Oh, Oh, yes! Oooooog… After so long! Ah! Ah—!" Death moaned, her words shattering into ragged cries.

  Her pussy pulsed around him, cmping down so hard he swore his cock bent. She was coming. Death was actually coming. Her cunt drenched him from the inside out, gushing like ice water poured from the heavens, chilling him to the fucking balls.

  Marshall flexed his jaw and howled. “Damn it! You’re like a goddamn freezer bst!”

  Her climax was insane, like no woman he’d ever fucked. It wasn’t just a squeeze. It was waves, ripples, endless icy contractions that milked him like she wanted his soul through his cock. Her juices ran slick and heavy, chilling and flooding at once, soaking his shaft, his thighs, dripping down in ghostly streams.

  That only made him pound her harder, desperate to keep the blood in his cock hot enough to fight back. “You think my dick’s gonna go, ‘Daddy it’s too cold outside’? Not today, goth-babe! Not today!”

  Pp! Pp!

  “Ah! Ah! Haah–!” Her shrieks broke into ughter. Her pussy convulsed again, tighter, wetter, more ravenous than before, pulling at him like a whirlpool.

  Her legs stayed locked, her body clung to him, and her wrists stayed caught in his grip. She was carried and fucked mid-stride like the goddess of death was just another trophy.

  "Close! Ready to get your womb battered? If you have one." Marshall asked, his eyes locked down where his thick shaft disappeared into her milky folds.

  And holy fuck, he could see it. Her cunt gripped him like suction, like magic, squeezing each inch as if she had fingers inside herself, stroking him. Her pale, frothy slit massaged every ridge of his cock, drawing him deeper, tighter, begging for the end.

  "Gaaaaahd—daaaaamn!" He roared. It was so strange with her White Walker-ass body.

  Wait, what's a White Walker? His brain threw it at him out of nowhere.

  He didn't give a shit what his brain remembered randomly and started to climb the bone stairs. One thumping, cunt-shattering step at a time. Each heavy stomp rammed him deeper, until her deathly-cold lower lips were grazing his pubes, until her clit brushed the coarse hair at his base, until her whole body shivered like a harp string plucked by his cock.

  Pp! Pp!

  "Here it comes!"

  Finally, he reached Death’s throne, a massive cathedral of bone. Without hesitation, he turned and sat, dropping down with a crash that vibrated through her whole body. Her pale body nded on his p with a wet sp of her jiggling ass, her cold back flush to his heaving chest, his cock buried to the base inside her.

  He locked his arms around her breasts like a harness and let go.

  White hot spurts of cum bsted deep into her frozen core, each burst hammering into her. His heat cshed with her chill, and the result was unholy. A swirl of steaming, creamy white filling her insides, churning and mixing with her icy juices. But her juices were so cold that as soon as he stopped flooding her, he turned fccid and slid out of her.

  Her pussy leaked like a ruptured dam, spilling everything they’d made. His seed, thick, sticky, steaming, mixed with her translucent nectar. It ran down her thighs, down his, dripping off the throne and spttering onto the bone floor in pale, frothy pools.

  "Mmmmh… That was refreshing." Death moaned, leaned backwards, tilting her head. Her arm hugged his face and pulled closer so she could kiss his lips.

  It really didn't matter. Marshall didn't know why she wanted a kiss, but he wasn't going to deny the one in whom he just unloaded a gallon of cock-a-co. His tadpoles were probably chilling inside her cold womb at this point.

  "Ummm…"

  She moaned into the kiss, as if savoring the moment.

  "Don't mind me if I choose to visit you myself."

  "Anytime," he replied and watched her get off his p. Nude, her sharp heels stepped down the stairs, shaking her beautiful ass. Then her clothes reappeared on her body, that bikini and that cape next. Surprisingly, the cape now had a hood.

  Finally, when she reached the floor, she turned back and looked up at Marshall on her throne.

  "..."

  "Holy fuck!" Marshall roared so loud the sky crackled. "I fucked a skeleton!"

  Death's face had changed. It was a bone skull now, while the rest of her body was the same as before.

  "Nice tits and ass though." As quickly as he screamed, he also calmed down, still horny.

  "Hehe." Death chuckled. "Still want to do it for a thousand years?"

  "As long as you got that goth albino vampire look going on? Fuck yeah!"

  Death, so amused by his reaction, ughed even louder, shaking her head.

  "Oh, Marshall. Never change."

  ####

  Asgard, Odin’s Castle

  The battle was over, and Asgard had won. Milk-teeth, as Marshall termed, was dead, as was his pnet. And now, it was time for celebration. The throne room was turned into a massive feast hall, rows and columns of tables spanned everywhere, trays of meat and barrels of mead flowed.

  Yet, at the main table, Odin sat unmoved, his pte empty, while his wife on the right ate. He sighed and looked at the empty chair on his left.

  “Marshall is te. Some burden must have deyed him, and he lies beyond the reach of my eye."

  "Oh, my love, set your worries aside. He is the First Man." Frigga refilled the king’s cup with mead.

  But Odin shook his head and rubbed his beard.

  “It is not Marshall I worry for, it is for others.”

  “Who, my king?” asked Frigga.

  “The realms, the gaxies, the universe.”

  “...”

  Frigga really had nothing to respond with.