Marvel: Impregnation System

Meanwhile in the Otherworld,

CRASH

BAM

"Your Majesty." A necrotic butler bowed low outside his master's chamber doors, knocking ever so gently, only for the door to be flung open abruptly.

BAM

In an instant, the necrotic butler was hurled against the wall, his limbs torn from his body. In the doorway stood a furious woman, radiating violent green energy.

"Your Majesty, is there something the matter?" The necrotic butler asked, his tone calm despite being split into pieces as he showed no concern as he began to slowly reassemble himself.

The familiar woman huffing in the doorway was none other than the illustrious figure, Morgana Le Fey.

"Ready my chambers," Morgana commanded in a dangerous tone, clearly in a particular mood today, as it was the anniversary of Camelot.

The festivities rang out all throughout Avalon, which is shaped by the collective subconscious of the British Isles.

Today marks the commemoration of the day when King Arthur sacrificed himself, bringing the great city of Camelot to the Otherworld. 

It was then that he began his long wait for resurrection, destined to return in Britain's time of greatest need.

Avalon was, in many ways, a reflection of Earth during the golden age of the goddess, when the forests were nurtured by her druids, the skies danced with her faeries, and the earth was vibrant and brimming with magic. 

A realm of serene beauty and enchanted forests, Avalon has long been a sanctuary of honor, magic, and the pursuit of knightly virtue. 

Spiritually and subconsciously intertwined with the land of Britain's own Earth, Avalon's fate mirrors that of Britain. 

When Britain prospers, Avalon flourishes, and when Avalon is imperiled, Britain too feels the scorch of its flames.

Avalon is a perfect paradise, an idyllic sight to behold, even from the confines of her castle prison. 

For Morgana, watching this empire rise higher each day is the worst form of torture, a constant reminder that she is not needed as its queen. 

To her, Camelot needs its queen.

"But your majesty-"

"I said ready my chambers since this time, I will do whatever it takes to force my entry into the black knight's mind." Morgana eyes flared green, the necrotic butler nodding and making haste of his queen's action.

The only thing that can break her chains is the Ebony Blade, a sword capable of cutting through any spell, barrier, or obstacle. 

For centuries, she has tried to coerce the Black Knight into doing her bidding, but all her efforts have been in vain.

Yet Morgana is not one to give up. 

She would sooner die than surrender to a fate where she does not sit on the throne. 

As her heels clicked through the hall, she steeled herself, ready to infiltrate the mind of the current Black Knight, no matter the cost.

Entering her chambers, the only connection she has to Earth, Morgana slowly closed her eyes, focusing on the Black Knight's signature. 

Earth is composed of various complex energies, each with its own distinct reading and color. 

For many, these energies remain hidden, as they see only what is directly before them, unable to perceive what lies between reality and the unseen.

Morgana, however, possesses the ability to see beyond what others cannot as she has honed her skill in locating the Ebony Blade's unique red, crackling energy, making her adept at tracking it through the intricate web of Earth's energies.

There, the energy radiated from the new figure, and before her, Ricky's body appeared only as a silhouette. 

His mind held the connection to the Ebony Blade, but there was a small issue. Around his brain lay a protective dome, a barrier he had always used, one that had thwarted Morgana's attempts in the past.

But this time, she was determined and with a single focused thought, she channeled every ounce of her power, aiming to shatter that dome in one swift motion. 

She tunneled her vision deeper and deeper, searching for any faults or weaknesses in the barrier, until, unknowingly, she encountered a void-like thread attached to Ricky. 

Having never encountered anything like this before in all her attempts, Morgana's curiosity was piqued. 

The allure of delving into the deeper depths of any mystery tugged at her, and with slow, deliberate intent, she began to integrate her consciousness into the void-like thread.

In doing so, she chose an action that would forever scar her very soul, unknowingly stepping into a realm of darkness and consequence far greater than she could have imagined.

As Morgana's consciousness merged with the void-like thread, the transition was instantaneous yet excruciating. 

The moment she entered into the connection, whispers immediately overwhelmed her thoughts. 

A cacophony of voices blared in her ears like thunder, their maddening crescendo forcing her eardrums to bleed, even here, in the Otherworld. 

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Morgana screeched, writhing on the bed as the necrotic butler tried to force her out of the pain which had taken hold of her but it was no use.

Her vision blurred as though the fabric of reality itself were distorting around her, and slowly, her eyes blackened into a void-like color. 

The very sight around her seemed to unravel her being, the shadows clawing at her soul as if they were alive. 

The pulse of the Void beat in time with her heart, and the whispers, those endless whispers, drowned out all coherent thought.

Her limbs felt heavy, as though gravity itself had shifted, and she staggered, barely able to stand. 

The landscape around her seemed to twist and writhe, with fragments of decaying stone floating like ancient debris in a sea of black ichor. 

The ground beneath her feet was barren, cracked, and fragmented, as if the very earth had been torn apart by some unseen force. 

The fissures in the land stretched wide, revealing nothing but the void beneath, an endless chasm that seemed to dig deeper and deeper into oblivion.

Impossible structures towered above her, their jagged spires reaching toward the sky, etched with glyphs that shimmered in the dark.

The voices surged louder, their words almost intelligible now, but still foreign, sharp and fragmented. 

The ground beneath her feet buckled and shifted, the very landscape a reflection of the chaos within her.

In the midst of her struggle, her sight was forcibly pulled deeper into the abyss, as though some unseen force had taken hold of her consciousness and dragged it to the very heart of the dimension. 

There, within the roiling, chaotic energy, she saw it; an ancient, monstrous entity that drifted through this horrid places center, its presence so vast and incomprehensible that it seemed to consume the space around it.

Its form was partially obscured by the swirling energy, the dimension itself seeming to warp and twist in response to its existence. 

But even through the shadows, glimpses of its true nature were revealed; writhing tentacles, each one covered in glistening, alien flesh, reached out as though seeking to tear the fabric of reality apart. 

Its body was a grotesque fusion of twisted, decaying faces, their hollow eyes weeping black ichor as they cried out in agony, their mouths whispering in tongues that burned through her mind.

Morgana's soul was pulled toward it, a magnetic force that tugged at her very essence as the entity's massive cyclopean eye, glowing with a sickly light, focused on her with a malevolent intent, and she could feel its hunger, the ancient desire to consume her entirely.

Just as the tentacles reached out, their tips sharp and eager to ensnare her soul, a sudden burst of energy cut through the Void's grip as a sharp, severing force that shattered the connection before it could claim her.

"Y-Your Majesty, I-" The necrotic butler, who had torn apart the chambers in an attempt to free her master, wore a relieved expression. 

But Morgana's eyes narrowed, her gaze flickering with the haunting memory permanently etched into her soul.

"Leave." 

"Your majesty-"

"LEAVE!" Morgana screeched, clutching her head and curling into a ball. 

The chaos had stripped her of any care for Camelot, Avalon, or anything else, and left her numb to it all.

Her usual worldly eyes locked into the fireworks firing off into the distance, showing disbelief yet unmistakably clear. 

Unlike the energies of Earth, she recognized this force as it had tried countless times to invade Otherworld, only to be thwarted by Merlin. 

Once thought to be a myth, a force that had perished at the height of the Hyborian Age, there was no denying it now even when remnants remained.

"N-Nethergods."

SNORT

Ricky snorted as he woke, sitting up and tiredly rubbing his eyes, oblivious to someone attempting to penetrate his mind.

Sniff

Ricky sniffed, rubbing his nose before collapsing back into bed and pulling the naked Raven closer into his arms, knowing tomorrow would be a big day.

Meanwhile In Staten Island,

"WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?!" Joe roared into the phone, his eyes wild as his usual calm demeanor cracked under the weight of the words spoken to him.

On the other side, however, Franklin let out a hollow laugh, leaning back in his presidential chair as he gazed at the door.

"YOU SAID IF I COOPERATED WITH YOU, I WOULD GET NEW YORK, THAT I WOULD BE THE HEAD OF THE MAFIA FAMILY, THAT I WOULD-"

"Worthless," Franklin uttered through the phone, his words slicing through Joe's sentence as he snarled.

"You failed, I told you to kill him three years ago and you cut him loose."

"You underestimated that mutant, and now you have to pay the price, just like I gave him free reign over New York." Franklin's words froze Joe's body, his breath quickening as his fingernails dug into the wood table beneath him.

"I lost." Franklin leaned back in his seat, closing his eyes before they opened, sharper than ever.

"But that's the last time I suffer defeat to Ricky Luciano. Unfortunately, you won't get a chance like that." Franklin merely shook his head, while Joe grabbed his forehead, pacing in his office.

"Mr. President if I go down-"

"There is no if's, you won't make it out there alive."

Click

The phone clicked, and Joe's breath hitched as he gazed forward as that calm, snake-like demeanor slowly shed, revealing the crazed psychopath he truly was.

"ROUND THEM ALL UP! I WANT EVERY MAN AVAILABLE TRYING TO GET A HOLD OF HIS LOVED ONES!"

Joe manically began bolstering Staten Island, turning it into a fortress as he knew Ricky was coming. 

In fact, everyone in New York knew he was coming. 

It was why the windows were slowly shutting, the doors locked, and parents yanked their kids off the streets, they all knew what was coming.

The people knew that as long as they stayed quietly out of Ricky Luciano's way, they wouldn't suffer, but the underworld was different. 

Panic spread through the minds of the gangs as the horror stories of The Black Knight slowly trickled into the mobsters' ears.

Everything from how he massacred three families in one sitting over an old grudge to rumors that he actually ripped Dracula's head off to claim his priest position, these stories haunted the underworld. 

The entire criminal network was on edge, holding their breath, teetering back and forth with a gun pointed at the door, praying Ricky wouldn't step through.

However Ricky wasn't worried in the least.

"Stay another day~" Ricky whispered, kissing Raven's collarbone as he held her tightly in his arms, while she stroked his chin.

"Come back to New York with me now~" Ricky whispered, feeling Raven's breath warm against his ear.

"I need the president of my foundation by my side at all times." Ricky slowly trailed his kisses up to her ear, whispering as she turned to him.

"Tiger, do you want me?" Raven asked, her golden eyes meeting Ricky's as his smile slowly formed.

"You know I do." Ricky tilted his head, his gaze making Raven instinctively blush, but she pushed on.

"All of me?"

"Is that even a question?"

"Then, if I'm really going to commit myself to you, to truly walk side by side with you and see this better future you promised, I need to start it right." Raven was serious, hugging Ricky as he stroked her naked back.

"I'm going to leave Irene, but I want to do it face to face. She deserves that much," Raven cooed to Ricky, looking into his green eyes as he kissed her palm.

"Hurry back, I'm actually a very impatient person," Ricky joked, letting Raven slip through his fingers and yet, his eyes betrayed him, there was no intention of letting it end like this as the tracking ring was still slipped onto her finger.

Watching her leave, he leaned against the patio railing as the hateful mob, now tripled in size, hurled even more insults at him.

"Uh, Slick." Jake walked in from the side, rubbing his arm after becoming a little uncomfortable.

"If Garfield is making you feel bad about yourself, just throw water at him—it usually shuts him up for a while." Ricky waved at Jake, misinterpreting the usual expression, as Jake slowly shook his head.

"No, some floating pair of eyeballs is here to see you, and I know it sounds crazy, but he talks into your mind." Jake shivered at the last part, clearly disturbed by the eerie scratch that happens whenever that guy speaks.

Sigh

"That's Elias. We're gonna be doing business together on mutant matters." Ricky leaned back up, following Jake to a room where Elias was accompanied by his telepaths.

"Greetings, Ricky. Did you like my performance?" Elias spoke through his telepath, his eyes forming crescent moons as Ricky crossed his arms.

"It was something, I'll give you that." Ricky plopped down in a chair facing Elias, who looked delighted by the response.

"Then, do we have a deal-"

"Yeah, about that." Ricky reached into his suit, pulling out a cigar and lighting it with the tip of his finger, taking a slow puff.

"The deal, that you yourself laid out, stipulated that if I convinced the judge-"

"No, you were proving that you were useful, which I'm starting to see. The real negotiation starts now." Ricky smiled with the cigar in his mouth, as Shadow Broker wriggled out of his shadow, briefcase in hand.

"Very well, let's state our desires." Elias spread out his shadowy hands, clearly annoyed by the situation but continuing nevertheless.

Elias had used most, if not all, of his favors, slithering through his connections to achieve this overbearing result, hoping to impress Ricky. 

However, Elias had more or less taken sides, meaning Ricky could use this opportunity to squeeze out as much as he could, rather than adhering to the original terms.

Ricky could see it, and Elias knew that Ricky saw just how much of a snake he was.

Both of them were leaders, and leaders like them rarely followed without something driving them forward.

"So you want to go back to this little mutant club of yours, right?" Ricky asked, showing himself as clearly not seeing the significance.

"Do you know why the Hellfire club is not only important to me but important to any mutant? Elias's red eyes glowed with an eerie brilliance, seeming to pierce through the dimness around them as he began to speak, his voice smooth and haunting, resonating with the gravity of his words.

"Am I about to get a sales pitch?" Ricky asked, watching Elias adjust himself, knowing he was about to be ensnared in a web of possibility if he chose to pursue this so-called 'club'.

"The Hellfire Club, Ricky, isn't just some gathering of wealthy mutants, no. It's a society that shapes destinies. Imagine a web, spun across continents, held together by the wealthiest, most powerful minds, not just in America, but across Europe, Asia, every corner of the world. To be a part of it is to hold a key to influence, to tap into privilege beyond even the Mafia's reach." Elias intoned as he let the weight of his words settle before continuing.

"And to be king within the Hellfire Club? That's not just a title. It's a station few ever achieve, and it doesn't come without its share of sacrifices and benefits." Elias then gestured to himself, having attained that position personally. 

"The kings, queens, bishops, all the titles in this club, serve a purpose. You're trusted with the club's deepest secrets and decisions. People look to you to wield power wisely, to protect and advance their interests. And in return?" Elias let those words hang on the edge of his telepath's tongue, letting the moment bubble while trying to draw Ricky closer.

"You're granted access to the kind of resources, alliances, and secrets that even governments can't obtain. The club's members influence policy, shape economies, and sometimes, play kingmakers on an international scale." Elias's eyes gleamed brighter, his voice lowering to a near whisper. 

"If you align yourself with the Hellfire Club, Ricky, you'll be more than just a player in this world of crime and power. You'll be sitting among those who decide who plays. In a world where being a mutant makes us outcasts, the Hellfire Club is one of the few places where that difference is cherished, revered. This path isn't easy, but if you can rise within those ranks, the world is yours in ways most can only dream of." Elias relished in his days of old, where that power was at his fingertips and at the sway of his hand made business within regions either succeed or fall.

"Then I'm guessing it was pretty crushing to have it all ripped away from you." Ricky gestured to him, watching Elias slowly nod, his red eyes narrowing.

"Yes, but this will be a small blip in my grand story that I call life. I will once again claim my position." Elias then looked toward Ricky with a probing interest.

"And let me guess, I'm your ticket in." Ricky gestured to himself, gazing at Elias who merely shook his head.

"I wouldn't say that, the hellfire club-"

"You want to know something? I bet that club is going to reach out to me after the stir I caused in the States, and you, already knowing that, are trying to attach yourself to me like some leech." Ricky leaned his head on his hand, thinking those powerful mutants were drooling at the sight of him, being so full of himself he was confident they were at least aware of his existence.

However, Ricky was playing it up on purpose, still unaware but wanting to set a narrative, an illusion, almost, that they were totally keeping tabs on him for the sake of this negotiation.

"Why do you assume that?" Elias leaned in, pondering as he gazed at Ricky, who thought about it for a while before taking a puff of his cigar.

"Honestly, it's a guess, but if it's a place for what you say it is, wealthy mutants climbing the social ladder, then don't I fit that description?" Ricky asked, gesturing toward himself while raising his chin.

"And after I clean up New York, the Luciano Family will be as powerful as ever, and it doesn't make sense for them not to reach out, because that's what I would do." Ricky finished, and Elias slowly nodded.

"Well, I feel that we are going off-topic. Let's decide on an appropriate price." Elias put his shadowy hands together, looking at Ricky as his eyes formed into crescent moons.

"But can you cut this facade of your uncaring demeanor? It's quite convincing, but I think we both know that you're just as interested in my operations as I am in your potential." Elias suddenly spoke, leveling the playing field as Ricky simply smiled, remaining quiet.

"Do you think I am oblivious to your foundation's intentions? Do you think I don't know what you seek to gain from all the mutants I've collected over my tenure?" Elias genuinely asked, seeing through Ricky's intentions as if it were child's play.

"Let me guess; you're going to take me in and use me, give me so many tasks or troubles that I'll be too preoccupied to even notice you trafficking my mutants in your organization, correct?" Elias was almost reading Ricky like a book, seeing through him like it was nothing.

"Oh, but your strength is commendable, it is, and I am very wary of it. But I think you have something else up your sleeve, since, weirdly enough, things oddly go your way." Elias's shadowy hand stroked his shadowy form, outwardly assessing Ricky.

"For example, I've known Rockefeller for a long time, and never has anyone ever escaped him with such favorable conditions, as if he was controlled." Elias chuckled, his eyes surveying every inch of him.

"Then there was that poor lawyer, but that could be chalked up to you forcing him. And now I wonder, can you augment minds as well?" Elias's eyes gleamed, surveying the situation, but Ricky simply smiled.

'He's reaching, he doesn't know.' Chester's voice echoed in Ricky's mind, coming from the terrace outside the window, where he listened to the conversation unfold.

The honest thing about Elias was that he wondered if Chester could use his ability on him, since the only ones Chester had ever targeted were regular people, never telepaths. 

Chester always described it as entering their mental world, and Elias couldn't help but wonder if revealing Chester's identity could endanger his hidden card.

"Are you done?" Ricky asked, puffing out smoke from his cigar, dabbing the side with his thumb before slowly putting it back in his mouth.

"Am I not allowed to probe into the details of this matter? And of course, if you're wondering whether I have any objections to mental augmentations, I welcome them," Elias continued, a sly look gleaming through his red eyes. 

"I'm quite curious to see if I'd fall under them too."

He completely bluffed, knowing that Ricky had something, though not exactly what it was as the tension in the room thickened as their verbal sparring continued.

It seemed too odd, too coincidental and with all the digging Elias had done on Ricky, there were times when everything lined up too smoothly, like pieces of a puzzle that fell into place a little too perfectly. 

It left him uneasy, as if there was something Ricky wasn't showing, something hidden beneath the surface that even Elias' sharp instincts hadn't yet fully grasped.

"Why the hell would I tell you if it makes you so curious?" Ricky suddenly asked, spreading his arms wide, his laughter filling the room. 

He leaned back in his chair, taking a long drag from his cigar, a smirk playing on his lips as his eyes gleamed with the challenge since this time, it was his turn to watch Elias for any sign of weakness or hesitation.

"If you're getting so bent out of shape over a 'what if,' what reason do I have to stop you from becoming a total psycho because of it?" Ricky laughed, his tone laced with mockery, deliberately pushing Elias's buttons. 

His words hung in the air, playing on Elias's curiosity and paranoia as he wanted to keep Elias uncertain, distracted by the possibility that he might have a card that could change the tide of everything all while Ricky moved forward with his own plans, trafficking the mutants into his organization under the guise of cooperation.

They both knew what each other wanted, but it was precisely because of that mutual understanding that the process was so captivating. 

Every word, every gesture, was calculated, and everything was left in a silence.

One way or another, their plans required each other, yet it was their pride that held them back from asking, which is why demands started to come into play.

"I want a borough." Elias was the first to make a demand, seemingly stopping the horseplay and getting right to the negotiations.

"You're not getting a borough, a building maybe-"

"If you are to assume that I'd come to work in that foundation then you're incorrect." Elias interrupted Ricky, halting any idea of him working at a foundation that would funnel his own mutants out of his control.

"I would like Manhattan-"

"You'll get the Bronx, but it's just occupational. It doesn't mean you get to step into my future operations." Ricky waved his hand dismissively, making it clear that Elias wasn't to have any real control over his territory.

"Do I get a cut-"

"Of course, if you come work for me-"

"What about the mutants I give you?" Elias immediately brought up the idea, Ricky becoming intrigued while dabbing his cigar.

"I supply you with mutants-"

"Kids or teenagers, that's it. I don't need forty-year-old guys trying to play grunts; it'll mess up the order." Ricky set the condition, making it clear to Elias that he intended to groom the younger generation, as the latter had anticipated.

"1000-"

"250-"

"I cannot go below 750," Elias stated firmly, aware that while the younger mutants weren't as powerful, they were more likely to slip from his grasp since they were young and moldable.

But even so, he'd undoubtedly use them as spies, but Ricky had expected this response.

The beauty of the Luciano family was its ties, how close-knit they were, almost like an actual family. 

Ricky knew that the kids would eventually integrate themselves into the family, giving themselves completely to it. 

But that focus, he decided, could wait for a later date.

"Alright, 500 a pop for each, and 750 for every kid that actually has a fighting mutant power," Ricky set out the conditions, watching Elias mentally juggle the numbers.

It wasn't that Elias needed the money since if he wanted, he could tap into his vast network of shell companies. 

However, the wealth was largely tied up in assets, not liquid cash and Elias was incredibly wealthy, but his fortune was hidden in a way that made it difficult to access quickly. 

He preferred to let his wealth simmer, allowing the power behind it to grow and strengthen over time, rather than rushing to liquidate it so the cash on hand would be useful.

Besides, he would start by off loading all the weak mutants onto Ricky while keeping the promising ones for himself.

"Very well, it was a pleasure doing business with you," Elias said, standing up and extending his shadowy hand as Ricky chuckled, rising to his feet as he reached out and firmly shook it.

"I look forward to our partnership-"

"That is, when you swear upon the River Styx." Elias finally revealed, his voice smooth and confident as Ricky laughed heartily, shaking his head. 

"Ha, so you know about Asterion." Ricky clicked his tongue, amused by the revelation.

Ricky then let out a small laugh while seeing Asterion scratching his head in the doorway, confused as to what was going on.

Elias had instructed him to enter at that exact moment, and now, standing in the doorway, he felt the weight of the moment.

Asterion stepped forward, his large frame filling the space, but his eyes darted briefly to Elias, who regarded him with an unreadable expression.

'It is like talking to the fates over again,' Asterion sighed internally, walking towards Ricky within his human form.

"The conditions of you making me-"

"Whoa there, Elias, this changes everything." Ricky backed up, knowing the conversation changed completely.

"Ricky, it is obvious but you are too powerful for me to take on, I'll need guarantees-" Elias was trying to show how he was protecting himself but Ricky shook his head.

"I need more, the river styx sh*t means I get more." Ricky shook his head, sitting back down and watching Elias impatiently standing before him.

In Elias's eyes, Ricky's lack of trust and spontaneous nature was frustrating, but it was clear that he couldn't make a deal with someone as reckless as Ricky without securing that kind of guarantee. 

The stakes were too high, and Elias knew that without it, Ricky's ambition would eventually overpower any agreement made.

But on the other hand, Ricky would never swear on the River Styx, not for a mere handful of mutants. 

His selfishness and insatiable greed wouldn't allow it and for him, power came with conditions, and no ancient oath was worth the risk when there was so much more to gain.

"What is it you want-"

"Until I make you the black king, you're gonna work under me at my foundation under Raven-"

"I said-"

"I'm not asking anymore." Ricky laughed, wiping his mouth and about to wipe his ass with this negotiation if he didn't get his way.

"You said it yourself, you need me just as much as I need you in this area, but I'm not gonna relent on this bullsh*t unless it seems reasonable." Ricky shrugged, his pettiness overflowing at the sheer audacity of Elias. 

His tone was casual, but the underlying message was clear as Ricky wasn't someone to be cornered easily, no matter how much leverage Elias thought he had.

"You want a binding oath that ensures you get what you want, f*cking fine, whatever." Ricky was clearly displeased at this oath but was going to milk every single drop he could from it since it was his guy that could do it and Elias had completely overstepped his bounds.

"Here's the new conditions: 250 a pop for every mutant kid, 500 for the good ones. You work under me as one of my guys in the foundation, helping funnel mutants around the country and then globally into my Luciano Family. And you can't touch any of the mutants you find that aren't already grandfathered in and coming with you." Ricky stated, throwing in his most petty demands with a smirk, watching Elias' frustration build.

"The same applies in the foundation: 250 a pop for every kid you find, and 500 for those that suit my interest. That's the deal." Ricky gestured to Elias, shifting the terms entirely, as the latter locked eyes with him, weighing the new proposition.

"And before you try to haggle me, I know I'll have to either fight or kill whoever the hell is in your position and deal with the fallout after, so you better accept this deal or we're done." Ricky's voice was sharp, the frustration clear in his tone not at Elias but himself. 

The River Styx threat still nagged at him since it had been a curveball he hadn't expected, one that rattled him more than he cared to admit as he had actually forgotten how useful it could be.

"Fine," Elias muttered, his voice strained with reluctance as he wasn't happy with the deal, but the guarantee was more valuable to him than a few hundred dollars. 

The idea of working under Raven in the foundation grated on him, especially since she was never higher than a bishop in the hierarchy. 

To have to report to someone of her rank was humiliating, but he knew it was the price he had to pay for the deal to go through.

"I, Ricky Luciano, swear upon the River Styx that I will make Elias the Black King in the Hellfire Club." Ricky purposely said, holding up his hand with the weight of his words hanging in the air, his gaze locked with Elias who met his stare unwaveringly, his own shadowy hand rising in response. 

"I, Elias Bougern, swear upon the River Styx that I agree under the set forth conditions and will do so until I become the Black King." Elias uttered the words that made Ricky laugh, rubbing his face at the meaning.

Both knew the true meaning of the oath as once Elias reached the position of Black King, their agreement would become null and void. 

But for now, though, it was a binding promise, and both of them would play their parts.

"It has been set." Asterion's deep voice echoed, his eyes dimming to their usual state as Ricky gave a brief nod.

"There, happy?" Ricky asked, crushing the cigar in his hand, his tone casual but with a hint of satisfaction as the deal settled.

"Very." Elias replied, the weight of the pact still lingering in the air. He stood up, giving a small nod to Asterion before making his way toward the exit, his shadowy figure slipping out with deliberate grace.

Ricky watched him go, feeling the tension of the moment linger as the finality of the agreement settled in.

"It was wise for you to hide me as your card, but I know you were trying to keep me out of his probing eyes." Chester smiled, flapping over to Ricky and looking at him as he sighed.

"I just don't know if your power will work on a weird ass shadow telepath and if it doesn't, then like the stupid information broker he is he'll f*cking reveal it or sell it." Ricky sighed, actually thinking about the consequences as Chester nodded his head before something strange had happened.

Chester (Favorability: 65→69)

Chester had been oddly holding onto his favoritism, but with this sudden move, it had actually risen, which made Ricky smile but before he could comment, Alexander hosted his paw into the air.

"Then, let us embark on our revenge tour!" Alexander roared out, Ricky joining in the fun while raising his arm.

"HAZZAY!"

The next day,

Within the heart of New York, the city that should have been alive with the hum of bustling crowds and the promise of endless dreams stretching across the horizon, there was an eerie silence. 

It was midday, yet the streets lay deserted, as if the very lifeblood of the city had been drained. 

Not a single person dared to step outside, their movements halted by one paper, one headline, and one man. 

In the distance, a lone newspaper fluttered in the wind, its edges curling and dancing as it caught the empty breeze. 

It moved without purpose, carried by the wind through this ghost city, as if the world itself had lost interest and moved on, leaving only the remnants of its presence behind.

Click

Click

Click

The sound of dress shoes echoed through the streets, sharp and deliberate, each step a piercing reminder of the solitude that enveloped the city. 

The rhythmic clicking was so subtle, so faint, it could easily be drowned out by the wind, yet within every building, every shadowed corner, every heart that still beat in this hushed place, it was heard.

Suddenly, the paper was plucked out of the air, its edges curling slightly as it was snatched from the breeze. 

In the instant it was caught, that bold headline sprung into view, the black ink stark against the white backdrop.

"Ricky Luciano Is Back." Ricky read aloud, his voice cutting through the silence, each word heavy as if each syllable would doom any of those who heard it.

The city, the power, and everything he'd built hinged on his next move as he had to make them feel it, feel his return, his rise. 

Everything had been leading to this; every gain, every loss, and everything in between that he'd forged over the past three years had been building to this exact moment. 

Ricky knew that this was the culmination of all his planning, all the sacrifices, and all his hard work.

But Ricky wasn't just going to let it pass unnoticed. 

No, he would make it unforgettable, he would put on a show, a performance for all the eyes watching from the shadows, for those who had doubted him and those who had expected this very thing. 

The stage was set, and Ricky was the star, he was ready to make them all remember his name whether they wanted to or not.

"That has a nice ring to it." Ricky chuckled, throwing the paper before spreading out his hands to his beloved city while shouting to the top of his lungs.

"OH NEW YORK, I'M BACK!"