The memory struck me as soon as the dagger parted skin and muscle. The leathery mask in the shape of an owl turning with the crazed man's head as the images flooded my mind.

Suddenly I wasn't myself anymore. But rather, him. The Cultist.

The one who'd hidden his true self for so long. Until I'd managed to peel enough of his realm away to see him for who and what he truly was.

I tried to fight against it. Against the flow of memories, but then I felt two more slices get past all my defenses and rip out my lungs. The organs falling to the floor while the maniac disemboweled me and turned me around to choke me from behind.

"Shhh. It'll be okay. It'll be okay. I'm a good person and it'll be okay."

'What the fuck is wrong with you?' Was the first thought that went through my head.

'Oh shit.' Was the second.

From there on, I was no longer myself.

I was a boy. Watching while saying nothing.

I saw a farmhouse in a row of farmhouses.

All of them painted a bright light blue.

All of them bereft of windows for the most part and all of them having weird spherical symbols painted on their doors with bright pink paint. Smiling faces intermingling with eyes as the borders of said faces.

It was a stark contrast, when compared to the blood on the grass. The bodies laying there motionless as the new father sang along with the mothers.

He was draped all in hues of pink and blue. His robes flowing as his beard was flowing. Matted wet hair intermingling with the blood-stained robes as he lifted his arms to the skies and moaned in ecstasy.

"And now we call upon the Great Delight! May the grand will of the universe bless with continuity! With never ending happiness!"

"Happiness!" The mothers called out. Echoing his cries as their blades sang and sliced the air.

"Give us happiness! Give us happiness!"

They sang and circled the bodies of the hikers as they danced and the child that I was watched it all without a single shred of emotion.

Yet he knew that they had to be satisfied or else the punishment would begin and the adults never seemed keen on punishing themselves.

So, he let a little trickle of himself flow into them. As much as he dared, while being shackled by fear.

Some part of him must have known that he could have stopped it. That he could have stopped them and stop the series of murders and the lunacy. But he was scared.

The new father had that sort of effect on people. Even without powers, he was a menace all on his own. His eyes having a way to make you feel small and worthless and fragile all at once. His words having a strange effect on people. Making them believe that he cared and that he did not care at the same time. That his lies were the truth and the truth was all lies.

The child was scared. I was scared, because there was always that little seed of doubt in the back of the child's mind. That this man was more than what he seemed and that his words might really be able to change reality.

The child's influence, my influence, changed them and made them happy once more and so they worshiped the new father. Worshipped me.

With time, father's influence waned. Partly because I as the child kept growing larger and smarter and bolder. Partly because he was a crazed hippie perpetually sky-high on a mixture of narcotics, booze and magic mushrooms.

By age 12, the child felt comfortable enough to have the collective worship him as the star child. Directly placing himself as the inheritor to the new father. By age 14, new father was another dirty supplicant in all but name.

But the child had not cared for him by that point. Instead, the child moved towards growing his influence the only way he knew how. By forcefully bringing more people happiness. By bringing them into the cult.

At first, he'd been following the example of new father. Because the destined sky child would bring peace and happiness to all the people of the world and therefore, he needed heirs.

From there, the power grew as the confidence grew.

Heroes came and heroes fell to [Presence].

The child sent them to disable politicians and nuclear arsenals and army bases.

Some saw what was happening and tried to assassinate the heroes. But the child simply found more heroes and more cultists. Sending them into politics and into local corporations. Waiting and biding his time without ever truly expressing himself through [Domination]. Instead using more subterfuge and more bribes and more espionage.

It took a few more years, but the child eventually did it. The world was pacified. The human race was saved.

He was bored.

And like all bored tyrants, he tried to find new ways to entertain himself. He began with literature and found the texts pedantic. He tried his hand at theology and found the texts deadly dull. Ironic given the spread of his flock.

He tried the sciences next and he tried his hand at making something new. Something fun. He took up cars and boats and airplanes and little drones he could fly about his new palace while his children watched.

He designed a few and tried to make a chair of them. So that he could fly like a hero, high atop them all.

When he failed, he settled on a smaller scale project. A toy of his own making to signal his arrival.

He created a little mechanical cherub with little twinkling bells and he called it G.O.Z.O. Mostly because he found the name amusing and the acronym apt.

And the boredom could not be stayed for long. He tried other things.

From women to music. From painting to mountain climbing. From raves to even wilder raves to strong drink.

Oh yes. The drink.

He stopped at some point to try his hand at research. Wanting to expand his new empire to the stars above. And that was when he opened his mind to [Omniscience] for the second time. And that was when everything fell to pieces.

He got a fresh dose of feedback from his slaves and he in turn enslaved himself.

Now determined to become a true Divine figure.

And it would be another few years, until he found other, untainted humans, that he would see himself for what he had become.

I blinked and time had passed.

The palace was quiet, for I'd sent most of the choristers and revelers away. So that they might keep the lucky one company as he slammed his forehead unto the unmoving, unreal floor of this world.

From my perch, my seat of power, he looked as an ant would. Squirming and writhing as if some meddling cruel child poured boiling oil atop it in some fit of sadism.

It made for a rather macabre show, watching him roiling here and there as his skin flayed itself from the inside out. His Psy going wild due to his now conflicting natures. One part of him trying to keep this new cancer at bay while screaming at his conscious mind to stop being stupid and do something. The other part acting all confused because all the synergistic abilities it had to keep working correctly were suddenly not pulling their weight.

Also, the one side of him controlled his normal [Presence] while the other also controlled Psy through a [Presence]. So, when he reached for one, he reached for both and when he reached for both, they both looked at the other and accused the other of being a dirty cheap copy. Then they fought.

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From where I was standing, the spectacle was nothing short of hilarious. Like that one meme of two superheroes pointing at each other outside a van or an old memory I had of two fine looking ladies clawing each other outside a Darby's parking lot after they'd found out one of them was the side chick to a local douchebag. I chuckled, despite myself. Recalling how one of them, the blonde, had been left half-bald after the brunette ripped out a chunk of her hair. Only for the blonde to turn around with a lucky shot and claw out one for the brunette's eyes with a lucky swipe.

It had been nothing short of hilarious back then and it only got better when their families got involved. The local news leaping on the story like a swarm of blood-hungry piranhas.

The lucky one being the hapless populace of the town in this analogy.

I waited a few more seconds before deciding to enter the picture. Opening a door to his position from the heights of my palace and stepping gingerly around the puddle of offal he'd so unceremoniously discharged.

"You know, those floors cost a ton of money back in the real world." I tapped the stone with my toes. "This is real Italian marble. Imported from the same place they dug out Mussolini's obelisk from. You have any idea what kinds of things I had to do to get these floors? How many people I had to cure of their depression using my lovely gifts? Honestly man!"

He cursed at me within the confines of his head. Then when I kicked him, he did it out loud.

"These...hack…!" He spat out a glob of blood. "Are Intruders!"

"But the floors were real once upon a time! So how about you show some respect for Master Giani's craftsmanship you uncultured tasteless fucking swine!"

I made it sound over the top. To give the impression I was kidding.

I most certainly was not.

There were many things that disappointed me about the lucky one.

Him still having his bio parents was a point of irritation to be sure. But there were others as well.

His lackluster use of his [Presence]. His poor use of plain old manipulation even without his powers. His puppy-dog attitude to morality up until recently. His very much skewed and un-nuanced view of morality after he realized he was a dunce. His problem of forcing himself into being a dunce with whole 'oh I'm a good guy' deal. His fashion sense….

Yeah…

I was not a fan, to say the least. Still not the worst outcome in the world, but definitely not the best version of me out there.

I sighed and pretended to get my emotions under control.

"My dude. When are you going to stop? Do you realize how much stuff you killed just now? Like, do you have any idea how many people you just turned into meat because you couldn't keep your mental health in check?"

He stared up at me spitefully. In that way he had done earlier where he kept convincing himself that he was willfully suffering so others wouldn't have to. That this fact somehow made the mass universal purges okay because he was feeling all of it at once and trying to stop himself. That him doing this did not mean he was a bad person because Hazi-boy had forced his hand and someone needed to make sure humanity survived.

"You know, I keep getting the feeling you're a bit of a masochist, my unwitting dude. I'm not saying you're going out to try and get yourself hurt, but you do seem to be ignoring me a whole lot when I am obviously in the right."

I tapped him with my foot again.

"I mean, here I am, trying to keep you from wiping out multiple planets due to collateral damage." I shook my fingers at him. "And here you are acting like one of those jerkwad kids at the beach. You know, like that one brat who kicked over our sandcastle? What was his name again?"

I was fairly sure I'd tracked him down at some point and forced him to eat an entire sandcastle worth of sand to pay him back, but I still could not recall his name for the life of me.

Oh well.

I was also fairly sure this whole thing with the lucky one wasn't going to work itself out.

"Dude. You have to stop this. You're not going to get away with what you're doing and worse, you might actually end up killing someone you care about. Actually, nevermind that. You absolutely will kill someone you care about. A lot of someones if you aren't lucky and end up blasting away our home dimension or a dimension filled with humans. Even if they're just one of those ones where Earth was more or less done for already. You can't possibly believe this is all going to work out with sunshine and rainbows my dude."

He coughed up blood all over my nice shoes. My nice suede shoes. My nice Buddy turned nice suede shoes.

'I'm gonna kill him.' Was the first thought that passed into my mind.

'No. No Sully. Bad Sully. He needs to live and save humanity and bio mom and dad. Don't do that.'

"Look." I said again, creasing my forehead as I did so. "You already got what you wanted. That is, you got power. Lots of it. But that power isn't worth a single scoop of dirty dog poo if you can't use it without blowing up a dimension each time you do. Because if that's the case, someone somewhere is going to wisen up and attack the one place you wouldn't do that. Then you'll be out and about trying very very hard to fight a lot of guys on Hazimon's level without that ace up your sleeve. At which point you'll lose. Because you are very very scary and because you've made a lot of enemies that you aren't ready to fight by any stretch of the imagination."

I pretended to sigh and then knelt to pat him on the back.

"So, just be happy with what you've got and cut off the [Silence] part of your [Presence]. Excise it completely and get back to basics before you fuck up more than you've already done. Get out there, beat up the old seahorse and live happily ever after!"

He shuddered and went into another coma. My senses telling me that something had happened.

Sure enough, I followed his mind through to his connection to the Tall Man. His version of my dear Troubadour and found that he'd just wiped away a whole new universe. With roughly 20 more advanced masters and another previously unrelated Savant biting the dust.

'Yeah. No.' I decided. 'This isn't going to work out for us. Not at all.'

He really was a drooling moron for someone who could read people's minds and their futures as well as he could.

These deaths would have rippling effects. Consequences.

He would have an even bigger target on his back as even people who hated Hazimon's guts would seek to ally with him out of necessity. Not to mention the very real possibility that more than one Divine might seek to stab him in the gut.

And honestly, by this point, I wouldn't be able to blame them in the slightest.

If I were a Divine, my main concern right now would be stabbing him in the gut too. There was the rather simple and ingenious countermeasure he had for the likes of Singing Metals, but the chances of that happening only got smaller and smaller the more he fucked around.

Something had to give, or humanity was fucked.

'Now, how do I make it so that he gives up on this nonsense altogether and cuts off the infection to get back home?'

It was so easy that I barely had to think about it. My Psy flowing through him and into his Veiled Prince once again. My mind now beginning to change the manifestation into that of my own avatar.

The connection snapped, just as it always did.

So, I tried again, taking advantage of the lucky one's weakened state.

And again, I failed.

That dance repeated itself a few more times before I threw my hands up in frustration and decided to call in the others. Figuring that the risk was worth it now that it had come to this point.

Later on, we were all standing around in the tallest spires of my palace. Me enjoying a fresh drink while the others chose to remain dry.

"You lack discipline. As always." The would-be dictator spat. "You lack the will necessary to see through the greater good."

Of course, when he said things like the greater good, he meant the greater good of humanity, and Pandemonium take the rest.

If you weren't human, you weren't even a person in his eyes. You were barely even worthy of being called a pet.

Granted, he had come a long way from where he'd started, but still, even I couldn't help but be put off.

"You have not punished him adequately for his failures!" The dictator shouted. "Pain is necessary for growth! It is necessary to purge oneself of weakness and lower impulses! You allow him to destroy himself and by doing so, you destroy the humans out there relaying on this fool! Scourge the boy, I say. So that the man may live!"

Leatherface found himself nodding despite himself and I had to stop and thank new father for being reasonably gentle with me. At least compared to the parents these two freaks had been saddled with.

"Much as you enjoy torturing yourself." I began. "Part of me doubts that will be effective. I've never been a glutton for punishment myself but our dear lucky one seems to have this sort of martyr complex where he'll throw himself into a woodchipper to save a life he deems worthy. I don't think whatever you're planning is going to work. As a matter of fact, I think the chances of it working are very slim indeed."

I clapped my hands.

"So, I've come up with an even better idea! Lend me your help so we can take over the real-world manifestation of his Veiled Prince! That way, we can affect the people of his Earth ourselves and force him to come back and save them!"

The dictator stopped, considering.

"Collective punishment has not always been my thing." He began, before stroking his scar. "But that might work. Might light a fire under him, as you would say."

I smiled at the bozo while arching an eyebrow to the monster.

Leatherface's nod was so subtle even I had trouble reading it at first, but he nodded all the same. His hands going back to tinkering with one of his many, many knives.

"Right then. Let us be out and done with it. I want to make sure he doesn't have time to wipe out another uni…and he did it again."

I coughed again on the floor as the memories receded. My mind reeling in much the same way as it had when the silence came and went.

I blinked, but soon realized I had no eyes.

I grew them back and then saw him standing there again. Hidden behind the curtain.

"You can't see me." He said. Out loud.

"Mother fu…" I stopped myself. "No."

I sighed.

"I'm sorry. I think I see where this came from now. I sorta understand."

I found what was left of my lungs and found that I still had not regrown them. Instead having to drag them back into my torso for my powers to kick in.

Then I looked back at the curtain and he wasn't there anymore.

"I'm a good person." He muttered behind me. My ears picking up the sounds of a knife slithering off a sheath.

"Sure you are, friend. Sure you are." I said slowly. Uttering other curses as I tried to stand. All while I had to wrestle with both my memories and the memories of the cultist.

"Whatever. I'm getting out of here." I swore under my breath.

"But you're missing. Missing them. I'm a good person."

I stopped to glance back at him.

The leather of the owl mask unmoving as his eyes stared back.

"What am I missing?"

"Enhancer powers." He said. "Good ones. Strong ones. I'm a good person."

I stopped. Sighing again.

"Okay. So, I know how this dance goes. What do you want?"

"Know me." He said. Leaning closer. "Know my story. Remember me when I'm gone."

He offered me his hand and I thought to myself.

'The memories of Cultist Sully were that grim. That horrific.' I gulped. 'How bad must his childhood have been?'

Then again, I was more or less out of Telepathy right now, given how broken and bleeding my insides were. If I got caught by Hazimon now…

"Right. You got yourself a deal." I spoke with a grimace. Grasping his hand and letting the bargain take hold as all of him was swallowed up by all of me.

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