Marvel: Impregnation System

Ding

[Rewards Gained]

Alina: 

200 IP

Rosa:

[Choose] 2 Rare Gacha, 10 common gacha or Rosa's Skills

Hidden Mission: Break Rosa with her desires, again

Reward: +4 Strength

Agatha Harkcross:

Additional Missions:

Completely Let Agatha Have Her Way With You(Complete):

Reward: Rare Minion Coupon

Madame St. Clair:

250 IP

Frances Dewey Luciano: 

150 IP

Raven Darkholme:

500 IP

CRUNCH

Ricky, munching on a piece of toast, gazed at his status screen with a contemplative look while Danielle sat on his lap. 

Her tongue peeked out in concentration as she carefully spread butter on his next piece of toast, eager to help her dad.

'No offense to Rosa 'cause she's hot, but what is she even good at?' Ricky genuinely wondered, munching on the crust of his toast since instead of picking Gacha right away, he was actually thinking about it.

'Probably not much, if I'm being honest.' Ricky sighed, Danielle peeked up at him, assuming he was hungry for another piece of toast, and quickly ran the butter knife across it with determination.

'Alright, choose gacha and receive rewards,' Ricky finally commanded, realizing he'd spent more time analyzing his rewards than actually claiming them.

Ding

Received:

1100 IP

 Rare Familiar Coupon

Strength: 66→70 (Middle realm of Superhuman)

(Rare Skill) Peripheral Vision Enhancement: Expands the user's field of vision to see more of their surroundings. The average 120 degrees horizontally and 60 degrees vertically, this skill expands the users vision to 160 horizontally and 80 degrees vertically

(Rare Skill) Underwater Breathing Description: The ability to breathe underwater as easily as on land. This does not grant the ability to swim faster or withstand deep-sea pressure but allows indefinite respiration in aquatic environments.

(Common Item) Duct Tape: strong cloth-backed waterproof adhesive tape. X 10

Ricky swallowed hard, feeling his muscles stretch and shift, but more notably, his vision expanded in a strange, unsettling way but to anyone watching, though, it just looked like he had indigestion.

"Here dad." Danielle quietly said, raising the piece of toast with a small, anxious smile as if doubting if she did a good job.

"Thanks, pumpkin." Ricky rubbed his eyes, plucking the piece of toast from her head and pressing a kiss to the top of her hair. 

She smiled, looking down as she rubbed her hands together, her face flushing red from the praise for doing a good job.

However, there was one thing that wasn't redeemed right away and that was the rare familiar coupon that sat in RIcky's fingers.

'Please, please don't be useless like Garfield,' Ricky silently prayed, hoping as the scene immediately shifted to Garfield.

Snort

"Huh?" Garfield, surrounded by plates upon plates of food, sat up as his third and fourth cheeks jiggled, only to slowly slump back into his food-induced coma.

It was then that Ricky ripped the piece of paper with one hand while still munching on his toast with the other.

Ding

Rare Familiar: Winky (Favorability: 0)

Description: Winky was a house-elf who, despite being freed, neither desired nor adapted well to her newfound freedom. After her emancipation, Winky fell into a deep depression, convinced that she had failed to properly serve Barty Crouch. This led her to drown her sorrows in heavy drinking, unable to reconcile her sense of worth in a world that no longer had a place for her as a servant.

-Skills:

House-elf magic: As a house-elf, Winky had access to an incredibly powerful brand of magic unique to her race, which can be performed both non-verbally and without a wand. 

Apparition: Like all other house-elves, she could Apparate and Disapparate to anywhere she desired, and was not bound by spells that prevent normal Disapparition. 

Binding magic: Winky could use her magic to bind an individual to her proximity. This seemed to be quite powerful, as when she used it on Barty Crouch Jnr, he could not sever the bond even after acquiring a wand. However, she was still required to exert physical force to drag the prisoner back, as Barty was able to resist her pull, and if she was rendered unconscious, the bond would break.

"AH!" Winky screamed, scrambling backward and hiding behind a silver pitcher of water.

Ricky frowned, glancing at his reflection in the side before looking back at Danielle, who simply tilted her head.

"I'm not that scary, am I?" Ricky thought, wondering since to him, he looked like a fallen angel, someone you couldn't help but trust.

"What is that?" Danielle asked, almost fascinated while curiously looking at Winky who peaked her head out only to flinch then cover herself again.

"Uh, I guess it's a house-elf." Ricky said, looking at the system description before looking back at the shivering Winky.

"How did it get here?" Danielle asked, leaning to the side to try and see it again, only for Winky to walk around the pitcher.

"I summoned it, though I probably should've waited until later, if I'm being honest," Ricky muttered aloud, reflecting on how spontaneous the summon had been. Still, if anyone was safe, it was Danielle, and she would be safest in his arms.

"Summoned, you summoned Winky?" Winky's large, bat-like ear twitched from behind the pitcher, her high-pitched voice rising.

"Yeah, as a familiar," Ricky said nonchalantly, continuing to munch on the toast his darling daughter had smeared butter on, seemingly oblivious to uprooting Winky from everything she had ever known.

"Winky is a familiar?" Winky's eyes sparkled for a moment, but she quickly hid them behind the pitcher, avoiding the young child's gaze.

"What's a familiar?" Danielle asked, curiosity piquing in her voice, though her eyes were still reflecting Winky, her blush deepening as she found the elf unexpectedly cute as she wasn't anxious, just genuinely curious about Winky.

"Uh, I don't know, kinda like a spiritual guardian, but I usually think of Garfield as a servant-"

"Servant!" Winky yelped, her words almost excited but to them, her shivering only intensified as Danielle's expression turned hurt. 

The child reached out instinctively, wanting to comfort the elf, but then hesitated, pulling her hand back self-consciously.

"Daddy, you're making her sad," Danielle said sadly, looking up at Ricky, whose face froze in guilt.

'F*ck,' Ricky thought, feeling the weight of Danielle's emotions as his own.

"Listen, Winky, it's not like that-"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO~" Winky wailed, falling to her knees in an overly dramatic fashion, as if all hope had been crushed, and the weight of her world had shattered.

"Woah, woah-"

Sniff

"Dad, why did you make her cry?" Danielle sniffled, her eyes becoming teary as she cried for the elf she had just met.

"I-I-" Ricky was almost never at a loss for words, but seeing his daughter about to cry because of him left him like a deer in headlights.

"WHY CAN'T WINKY BE A SERVANT? WHY DO PEOPLE LET WINKY HAVE HER FREEDOM~" Winky bawled, her cries echoing as she reached toward the heavens as her words not only left Ricky speechless but left Danielle confused as well.

"WINKY SERVE HER MASTERS GOOD, WINKY DO EVERYTHING FOR HER MASTERS, AND HER MASTERS ONLY ABANDON HER~" Winky wailed, crumbling to the table and repeatedly banging her forehead against it.

"Dad, help her, please~" Danielle tugged on Ricky's sleeve, putting him in a really awkward position but sighed.

"WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY-"

"Winky, right? Listen-"

"YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY-"

"Can you just-"

"YYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY"

"GOD DAMMIT, STOP CRYING!" Ricky yelled, his frustration mounting as he struggled to get a word in over Winky's loud, emphatic sobs.

Both Winky and Danielle flinched at the outburst, but instead of bawling, they both simply sniffled as Ricky covered his face with his hand before dragging it down in exasperation.

"You wanna be a servant, right?" Ricky asked directly, now understanding the context from reading Winky's words and her description as Danielle was about to speak, but Winky quickly nodded her tiny head.

"Y-Yes, Winky doesn't like her freedom. Winky drowned herself in alcohol," Winky sniffled, wiping her nose with her long ears but Ricky couldn't help but laugh, while Danielle rubbed her eyes.

"You don't want to be free?" Danielle asked, her voice soft and cute, sniffling along with Winky who grabbed her ears and hugged her body tightly.

"Winky doesn't like it. Winky wants to serve her master, but her masters-"

Sniff

"Winky's masters freed her~" Winky's eyes watered again as she wiped them before suddenly vanishing.

"Woah." Ricky raised his eyebrows, watching as Winky disappeared in an instant. 

His gaze shifted to the side as he noticed her reappearing, unscrewing the half-drunk bottle of Jack Daniels.

"Winky drinks when she's sad. Makes Winky's pain go away~" Winky cried, shamelessly starting to drink Ricky's alcohol as he simply raised his orange juice to her in a mock toast.

"Ahem, to that," Ricky nodded, drinking his orange juice in solidarity, while Danielle pouted as she turned back to Ricky, who sighed once more.

"Aye, Winky, wanna be enslaved again?" Ricky asked with a raised brow. Danielle hit his chest, frowning up at him.

"What? She's literally crying about freedom," Ricky said with a shrug, pointing towards the crying house-elf.

"You'd enslave Winky?" Winky immediately teleported in front of Ricky, making Danielle flinch.

"Uh, sure," Ricky said, extending his fingers toward her to which Winky flinched at first, but then a deep realization washed over her.

She recalled her life, the endless loneliness, the weight of having no purpose beyond serving her masters. 

Winky had never known anything else.

Now, with her freedom, she felt hollow since without the duties that defined her existence, she was left adrift, questioning her value.

Her only comfort had been the bottles that dulled the ache, the ones that allowed her to slip into a slumber where she could forget the weight of her emptiness.

So, when this strange man, who had summoned her, reached out to her, something shifted within her as she felt a sense of quiet relief and slowly, she relaxed her tense body and closed her eyes.

Then, Ricky flicked her tiny forehead, causing her small body to topple backward, landing on her butt. 

She slowly looked up, her gaze meeting Ricky's amused smile as his fingers remained outstretched.

"Tada, you're enslaved," Ricky chuckled, his words ringing in Winky's elongated ears.

Winky's face flushed a deep shade of red, the weight of his words settling in as a mix of emotions flashed in her eyes, surprise, confusion, and something else that felt like relief, though she didn't fully understand why.

Winky (Favorability: 0→100)

[Dual Link: 5 minutes]

'Well, that was really easy,' Ricky thought, almost surprised at how effortlessly it happened. But honestly, he didn't dwell on it for long.

"Winky will be good, Winky will serve well," Winky declared, her voice laced with a strange giddiness. 

She smiled sweetly, looking down, as if avoiding her master's gaze was the ultimate form of respect.

"I'm Danielle," Danielle whispered quietly, her voice soft as she extended her finger toward Winky.

Winky, sensing the shift in focus, turned her gaze toward the young girl, who she now realized was her master's daughter. 

The change in her demeanor was subtle, but she regarded Danielle with a mix of curiosity and awe, as though she was trying to comprehend the significance of this new dynamic.

"Winky, servant of master," Winky announced, bowing deeply as she dropped to her knees, gently grasping Danielle's outstretched finger with grace.

In that moment, a wave of happiness flooded Danielle as she was overwhelmed, the pure joy surging through her like nothing she had ever felt before. 

It was the kind of warmth that reminded her of the first time she hugged her dad, that deep, comforting connection that made her feel safe and loved.

"Tiger, I'm running late and-WHAT IS THAT!" Raven exclaimed, stepping into the room from the side, her dark blue dress shimmering as her diamonds caught the light as she froze mid-step, her voice rising in alarm.

Without hesitation, Raven rushed over, yanking Danielle away from Ricky's lap and backing up, shielding her head protectively from whatever strange thing was on the table. 

Her eyes darted between Ricky and the mysterious object, clearly unsure of what she was facing but instinctively feeling the need to protect Daneille.

"Uh, well, this is Winky, my new elf servant." Ricky rubbed the back of his neck, gesturing towards Winky, who bowed deeply to Raven, assuming she was the mistress of the household.

"Winky greets the mistress of the household, Winky greets her master's wife," Winky introduced with a bow, unknowingly earning Raven's favor as she smiled instinctively at being mistaken for Ricky's wife.

"Uh, Winky-" Ricky began to correct, but Raven interrupted with a soft laugh.

"Well, it's nice to meet you too," Raven chuckled, instantly easing the tension in the air as she set Danielle down, adjusting her hair as she gave Winky an amused but curious glance. 

"So, Winky, what kind of servant are you?" Raven took charge of the conversation without hesitation since as the lady of the house, all servants, along with the staff she had hired, were under her jurisdiction, and she was keen to establish that authority.

"Winky cooks, Winky cleans, Winky-" Winky started listing off her various duties, her voice growing more enthusiastic with each task.

"Would you care to prove it?"Raven asked, her eyes brightening with interest while gesturing toward the kitchen. 

The cleaning staff hadn't yet arrived, and the dirty plates from yesterday's personal cooking session had begun to stack up in the sink.

Although they had cooks, Raven enjoyed cooking for Daneille and Ricky which is why she made them breakfast, and those were the result of last night and breakfast.

Usually the cleaning staff that arrived in about an hour would clean up after them but Raven honestly wanted to see if this small weird being was up to the taks.

Winky gazed back timidly at Ricky, who nodded his head, giving her the silent signal that made her disappear in an instant and appear in the kitchen.

Winky, with an almost musical focus, raised her small hands like a conductor preparing for an intricate performance. 

Her tiny fingers flicked through the air, and as if on cue, the dishes and utensils began to rise from the sink. 

They floated in graceful arcs, moving effortlessly through the air with a silent, synchronized rhythm. 

It was almost as if the kitchen had come alive, the sounds of clinking china and the gentle hum of motion creating a delicate symphony.

Plates, cups, and silverware swirled around, gliding through the air before gently being washed, dried, and stacked neatly on the countertops. 

The pots and pans followed suit, their metallic surfaces catching the light as they danced around the room before landing softly back into their rightful places.

Not only that, but the nearby broom closet creaked open as well as the brooms and mops, seemingly in tune with Winky's magical rhythm, floated out with precision, their bristles twitching in the air as if they had a mind of their own. 

They moved in unison, sweeping the floor with smooth, fluid motions, their handles tapping gently against the floor as if keeping time with an invisible beat.

The mops twisted and spun, scrubbing away any lingering dirt or grime as a bucket appeared beside them, filling itself with soapy water that splashed in perfect sync with the swish of the mops. 

The whole room felt like a ballet of cleaning, orchestrated by Winky's unseen hand.

Raven's gaze shifted from Winky to the swirling display of cleaning magic as the sight was nothing short of mesmerizing, her earlier reservations completely gone.

"You weren't kidding," Raven said, her voice tinged with disbelief as she glanced at Ricky. 

"Winky can do many things. Anything the mistress and master need, Winky will do!" Winky cheerfully called back, her heart thumping in her chest at the happiness she felt at fulfilling her calling once again.

"Hmmmmm~" Raven hummed thoughtfully, her fingers tapping gently on her lips as a smile curved her mouth. 

Her eyes lingered on Winky, the wheels in her mind already turning, formulating plans she hadn't quite finished yet.

"Alright, I gotta head out." Ricky wiped his mouth casually, standing and planting a kiss on Raven's cheek. 

She barely noticed, her attention still on the elf and the flurry of cleaning magic unfolding before her.

"Bye, pumpkin." Ricky kneeled down next to Danielle, brushing a kiss over her cheek. 

Danielle, equally entranced by the display, smiled absently as her gaze flickered between her mother and Winky.

"Winky, keep up the good work," Ricky said absentmindedly as he made his way toward the door as his words carried little weight for him, but for Winky, they were everything.

"Y-Yes, master! Winky will!" she stammered, her tiny voice trembling with excitement as her eyes gleamed with renewed purpose.

Walking out of the house, Ricky straightened his pocket square, glancing at the car where Marino was waiting, holding his usual black coffee and a bacon, egg, and cheese bagel.

"Here ya go, boss," Marino said dutifully, offering the items with a small nod.

"Thanks, Marino." Ricky sighed, taking the coffee from him and taking a swig, the bitter warmth cutting through the cold morning air. 

As Marino opened the door for him, Ricky slid into the car, settling back into the leather seat with a quiet exhale.

"To the office, right, boss?" Marino asked, glancing over at Ricky as the engine roared to life with his touch on the ignition as Ricky nodded, his gaze already drifting toward the window.

"Yeah, we've got a big meeting today."

Today wasn't just another day on the calendar; it was the scheduled meeting that had gradually turned into a war committee.

Though the Ordo Dracium had been utterly dismantled by Ricky, it didn't mean he could just brush it aside. 

An attack on the coven wasn't just an assault, it was an attack on his territory.

And his territory was everything.

Ricky knew that ignoring whatever Merlin was brewing was not an convenient option, no matter how much he wanted to. 

The last thing he needed was to be blindsided by whatever machinations were in play. 

So, instead of diving in headfirst without clarity, he opted to outsource his decision-making, pulling in feedback from those he trusted. 

Today, he needed more than just his gut instinct, he needed the counsel of those around him to ensure the next steps were somewhat calculated, measured, and above all, decisive.

However first, he needed to square away some budget reports for some upcoming shipments from the Gurrea Cartel.

Though, when the car parked, a familiar kid was curled up into a ball by the door as Marino immediately frowned and got out of the car.

"Aye, aye, little negro!" Marino barked as he stepped out of the car, causing the kid to flinch and look up in surprise.

"You know where you are, scram before you get your ass kicked-"

"Isaiah?" Ricky suddenly realized, rolling down the window and leaning out as the kid's uneasy expression quickly relaxed at the sight of him.

"Y-yeah, it's me!" Isaiah bobbed his head up and down, patting his chest in greeting, though he took a step back at Marino's glare.

"Aye, Marino, he's good. He's the son of a shop owner I respect," Ricky said, easing the tension as Marino relaxed, backing away.

Marino, being a professional, opened the door for Ricky, then returned to the car to give his boss some space.

"Damn, kiddo, you've grown," Ricky laughed, rubbing his mini-afro as the young child he remembered was now a freshly grown teenager, about thirteen.

"Haha, yeah," Isaiah awkwardly said, not really knowing what to do as he had thought about this meeting for a while, but now that he was here, he was blanking.

"Aye, stop that." Ricky flicked his head, watching Isaiah snap out of his trace as he quickly covered his forehead.

"S-Sorr-ow~" Isaiah tried to apologize, only to be flicked in the same spot as he winced.

"And stop apologizing, you don't need to apologize for nothing," Ricky chuckled, patting Isaiah's cheek before slipping his hands into his pockets, looking down at the kid who had clearly been through more than he should have.

"Alright, why are you here?" Ricky asked, smiling as he watched Isaiah slowly puff up his chest and look him square in the eyes, determination flickering beneath his nervous energy.

"I'm ready to run." Isaiah steeled his gaze, looking up at Ricky with unwavering resolve.

For Ricky in his character; you either loved him, hated him, or were indifferent to it all.

There was rarely an in-between as his personality was a particular breed of taste, one that demanded a stance.

But others' actions spoke louder than reputations, and for many in Harlem, including Isaiah, Ricky was a figure of admiration. 

Since the Great Depression, the quality of life had improved significantly for Harlem's marginalized Black community, and Ricky's influence played a major role in that change.

Though, by other standards, it might not have seemed like much, from a different perspective, it could easily be dismissed and yet, Ricky had inadvertently become a civil rights figure.

Even as he spoke, cases built on the precedent he had set just months ago were being drafted, filed, and applied to various legal motions.

From Isaiah's perspective, Ricky was larger than life, someone to admire, to follow.

Ricky changed a lot of things and in the future, he would even change the law.

But for Harlem, for Isaiah, what truly mattered was how people had begun to look at them differently since after all, it only took a person's own comfort for them to ignore another's suffering.

Harlem now had jobs, access to a bank, and a controlled environment ruled by a man who, compared to what they were used to, seemed like an actual saint. 

Even being left alone was seen as a mercy, considering how people had once gone out of their way to torment them for decades.

Isaiah, in his young and rebellious mindset, didn't just want to watch the change unfold, he wanted to be a part of it, he wanted to be part of something bigger.

It's just that Ricky looked at him like he didn't even understand what he was getting into.

"Kid-"

"Isaiah," he corrected, showing his grit, maybe even a bit of boldness, if only he didn't start to shiver and swallow hard right after.

"Okay, Isaiah, you're over your head." Ricky laughed, amused by Isaiah while patting his shoulder.

"I'm not, I get what you do-"

"Do you?" Ricky asked, looking at Isaiah with a serious gaze amidst his smile.

"Or do you just know what I want Harlem to know?" Ricky wondered out loud, his words snapping Isaiah's mouth shut in an instant.

"Listen, Isaiah, your pops has been really good to me, hell, he even saved my life." Ricky tapped his heart, remembering how when he was at the mercy of a crumbling environment, Elijah was the one who came for him when no one else would.

"But the Luciano family ain't some playground where kids come to have fun, it's a business, it's the mafia." Ricky's smile slowly simmered down, his gaze hardening by the second. 

The kids he was grooming weren't meant to be his best friends; they were being shaped into his best soldiers.

"We don't chase change, we chase power." Ricky's gaze held nothing but the reflection of Isaiah's naive ambition, exactly how Ricky wanted him to see his organization.

The reason?

Because Ricky was actively shaping the gossip circles, crafting his own legend since if you controlled the flow of thought, you controlled perception.

And at the forefront of this manipulation was Raven, weaving herself into New York's social circles, indulging in its whispers, and masterfully twisting rumors to suit their agenda.

In fact, Harlem's admiration for Ricky wasn't solely due to his own machinations or even Raven's influence, it was largely thanks to Madame St. Clair.

The reason Harlem was so compliant, so willing to embrace Ricky's rule rather than resist it, was because Madame had already sunk her claws deep into the community. 

She had been molding them long before Ricky came into the picture, and now, she was actively twisting that influence to his benefit, because it aligned with her own interests as well.

Isaiah believed he saw the full picture, that he understood Ricky's impact, but Ricky challenged that notion.

"You think you know, but you don't." Ricky tapped his head, pushing past Isaiah and walking towards the double doors.

"You only know what I want you to know."

It wasn't a correction; it was a revelation. 

Isaiah understand like he would in the future but it was a reminder that perception was a carefully crafted illusion, and Isaiah had only ever been allowed to see the version Ricky wanted the world to believe.

Ricky was no saint; he was an abomination.

He was no hero; he was a monster.

But monsters could be worshiped just the same, if you made them seem necessary.

If you gave them purpose.

If you convinced the people that the rotting you brought was the only thing keeping something worse at bay.

Ricky had come to know this better than anyone, knowing that love isn't always about kindness, it's about necessity.

People didn't love him because he was good, they loved him because he was there. 

Because he had made himself indispensable. 

Because, in a world that had chewed them up and spat them out, he had given them something to cling to. 

Stability. 

Opportunity. 

Power.

Love could be a transaction, just like everything else.

Harlem didn't love him because he was good, they loved him because he had given them stability when the world had given them nothing but hate.

Because, in a city that only respected power, he had herded the flock of thought and shepherded it into his favor. 

And Isaiah, standing before him, was just another example of how easy it was to shape the narrative.

Honestly, if it were anyone else, Ricky would shamelessly recruit Isaiah and use him as a future figure in the Harlem community, but he just respected Elijah a little too much.

Part of it had to do with saving him, but the real reason was that, at his lowest, he had sought out someone who meant nothing to him, only to receive pure generosity and a life lesson that stayed with him.

That moment had branded itself into his memory, not because it was grand, but because it was rare.

At his lowest point, Elijah had been one of those pivotal steps that made Ricky realize his scars weren't just remnants of pain, they were the very things that shaped him into the man he was.

There was no undoing them, no rewriting his past. 

The only thing he could do was keep moving forward, hoping that with each step, he would find a way to heal.

Usually, Ricky wouldn't be the type to grow attached, but from that point on, he held a deep respect for Elijah, not for his bravery, but for his guidance. 

Elijah had offered him something few ever did: wisdom without expectation, generosity without a price. 

And in Ricky's new world, that was rarer than gold.

It's just that if Elijah's guidance had been imparted onto him, then his bravery had been passed down to Isaiah.

"Then tell me!" Isaiah yelled, boldly defying the words spoken to him as a warning as Ricky stopped at the door.

Sigh

Ricky simply sighed, running a hand down his face as he had really hoped his words of warning wouldn't just go in one ear and out the other, but then again, that's exactly how is so he understood to a certain degree.

"I CAN TAKE IT, I CAN-"

"Really?" Ricky turned back, eyes narrowing as Isaiah thumped his chest, clearly nervous but standing his ground.

"Could you put a bullet in someone if I told you to?" Ricky asked, his voice even, almost casual. Isaiah's bravado faltered, his gaze dropping to the ground.

"Well, I-"

"Could you plant a car bomb in an unsuspecting mother's vehicle because she's about to leak a story on me?" Ricky continued, his dress shoes clicking against the pavement as he stepped closer. Isaiah instinctively took a step back.

"Could you kill an innocent man just because I said so? No reason, no explanation, just because he pissed me off?" Ricky's words were deliberate, cutting as his questions settled heavily on Isaiah's shoulders, forcing him to confront the reality he thought he was ready for.

"I-I-I don't know." Isaiah's voice faltered, his head ducking as he grabbed the ends of his shirt since he really couldn't find the answer within his mortality.

"Go home Isaiah, you're not ready for this kind of stuff." Ricky sighed, patting the kid's cheek and loosening up his rigid form.

"You wanna be like someone? Be like your pops." Ricky was about to back up only for Isaiah's teary eyes to look up at him.

"SHOULD I BE DEAD?!" Isaiah yelled, the words slipping out before he even registered what he had just said. His breath hitched as realization set in.

"What?" Ricky, on the other hand, went completely still. His expression darkened, his voice turning ice cold as Isaiah's stomach twisted. 

"N-No, I didn't mean-" Isaiah scrambled to backtrack, but it was too late.

Ricky yanked his collar forward and without another word as the portal materialized before them, swirling with an eerie distortion. 

Before Isaiah could protest, they were pulled through, the world twisting and warping around them.

A second later, they reappeared, right in front of Elijah's shop.

Dragging Isaiah along, because if this kid was lying, he was about to get slapped as Ricky stormed forward, his temper flaring. 

The shop, usually open, was shut tight, but he didn't care as he shoved the door open with force.

"ELIJAH! ELIJAH!" Ricky barked, his voice echoing through the shop as he yanked Isaiah behind him, his eyes scanning every corner.

Cough

Cough

The sickly rasp of a cough cut through the silence, freezing Ricky in place as his sharp gaze snapped upward, locking onto the source of the sound and without hesitation, he bolted up the stairs.

BAM

"What the f*ck, Elijah."

Those were the only words that could form on Ricky's lips as he took in the sight before him.

The memory of Elijah, the man in his mind, was starkly different from the frail figure lying sickly in the bed before him.

This wasn't like Jake, whose body had wasted away from addiction. 

No, Elijah's thinness wasn't self-inflicted, it was his own body betraying him.

He was dying.

"Slick, is that you?" Elijah's voice was a dry whisper, his lips cracked, his breath shallow as Ricky set Isaiah down, his steps slow and hesitant as he approached the bed.

"W-What happened?" Ricky swallowed hard, already knowing the answer since he could see it clear as day, but the words left him anyway, like some desperate plea for a different reality.

"I'm sick, Slick, what else? Elijah joked as his weak hand reached out, tapping his hand while his body wasted away under his own affliction.

 "I didn't know you could be a smartass." Ricky let out a strained laugh.

"Well, maybe you don't know me well enough." Elijah managed a small smile, his weathered eyes gazing at the boy who had grown into a man. 

"I guess so," Ricky murmured, sinking into the chair beside the bed.

"I heard of what you did, the trial." Elijah's smile became warm, looking at Ricky wiping his mouth.

"I'm very proud of you, whether or not you truly meant any of your actions, I'm truly proud of the man you've become." Elijah heartily chuckled, closing his eyes as if he didn't need to look after the thought of Ricky, the very same that always loomed in the back of his mind.

"Well, you had a hand," Ricky said, metaphorically giving Elijah his flowers before turning back to him.

As he glanced to the side, his eyes flickered over the items in his inventory and after a brief moment of thought, he settled on the Senzu bean.

"Listen, Elijah, we Lucianos always pay back our debts, and I—" Ricky started, attempting to push the Senzu bean toward him.

But Elijah's weak, frail hand stopped it.

"Isaiah, can you give me a moment with Slick here?" Elijah slowly turned toward Isaiah, who hesitated but eventually nodded.

"What are you doing?" Ricky asked, his expression morphing into a deep frown as he hadn't even explained what the Senzu bean could do.

"Slick, I'm ready." Elijah smiled warmly, watching Ricky scoff almost immediately and stand up.

"The f*ck you are." Ricky let out a shallow laugh, unable to believe what he just said.

"Elijah, this is gonna heal you-"

"Slick."

"This is gonna let you raise Isaiah-"

"Slick."

"YOU'RE BEING F*CKING SELFISH JUST LISTEN-"

"Slick." Elijah's calm, repeated, words resounded which finally halted Ricky's words as he looked at someone who not only didn't want to help, but didn't want to live.

"Why are you doing this, Elijah? Why are you trying to throw it away?" Ricky couldn't understand, his hands gesturing wildly as he spoke.

"You were the one who told me you can't live in the past, that you can't f*cking let yourself be consumed by grief, and now you're just trying to throw it all away?" Ricky asked, knowing this probably had something to do with his dead wife while Elijah let him get it all out.

"Why?" Ricky once again found himself asking this question, looking at the withered man who refused his chance to continue his life.

"I think there comes a time when a man has to ask himself whether he wants a life of happiness or a life of meaning." Elijah's voice was soft, but there was no hesitation in his words.

"You can have both, I can just give it to you." Ricky laughed, literally thinking he could give Elijah both.

"Can't be done, at least to me, they are two very different paths." Elijah chuckled, turning his gaze towards Ricky who was looking at the man who already accepted his fate.

"To be truly happy, a man must be absolutely in the present with no thought of what's gone before and no thought of what lies ahead." Elijah's word ran out like a steady stream, splitting into two trains of thoughts.

"But a life of meaning, a man is condemned to wallow in the past and obsess about the future." Elijah chuckled at that part, looking towards Ricky with a wide smile.

"That's bullsh*t," Ricky's jaw clenched, his frustration bubbling over as he shook his head. 

"You don't have to pick one or the other," Ricky said, his voice low but firm when addressing Elijah.

"Maybe not for you, Slick. But for me? I've already made my choice." Elijah chuckled again, hsi weak eyes turning towards the ceiling.

"So that's it? You're just giving up?" Ricky ran a hand through his hair, pacing now, trying to make sense of what it is that Elijah was getting to.

"I'm not giving up," Elijah corrected gently, taking a deep breath as if the air around him was more precious than any jewels on this earth.

"I've done my part. I've lived, I've loved, and I've lost. I've made peace with it and I'm ready to see the otherside, to see my beloved once again." Elijah's words rang out with a practiced motion, his words so smooth as if it were rehearsed beforehand.

It was why Ricky stopped, his eyes searching Elijah's face for some sign of doubt, of hesitation, anything he could latch onto, but all he saw was acceptance.

"You really won't take it, you're really serious, aren't you?" Ricky finally asked, his voice quieter now and unable to understand Elijah at this very moment.

"I am." Elijah's words had this certain finality in it, one that spoke with nothing that could ever change his mind.

"I'm so tired and my heart, it's just not in it anymore." Elijah shook his head, placing his other hand over his chest.

"I've tried to be strong, to push forward, but my steps have become hollow, shallow, and without meaning." Elijah's inner suffering rang out, seeing life as nothing more than a choir as his heart died with his love.

"I feel as if I continue to move forward, I will only drag the ones I cherish down with me." Elijah spoke the words that made Ricky immediately chim in, grabbing his hand.

"That just ain't true." Ricky tried to be the same person Elijah was for him, but this old, dying man had already decided.

"It is, Slick. I've carried this weight, this burden for too long. But at some point, you stop carrying it and start becoming it." Elijah wasn't asking Ricky to accept it, but instead asking him to understand.

"So that's it? You're just gonna let go? Leave Isaiah behind?" Ricky, in his annoyed state, weaponized Isaiah against Elijah as his tired eyes met his, filled with a quiet understanding. 

"It's not about letting go. It's about knowing when to stop holding on." Elijah continued, trying to justify his meaning but Ricky couldn't, wouldn't understand.

"That's some real pretty words for quitting." Ricky chuckled out, his tone laced in disdain though it was all for show.

"Maybe. Or maybe it's just knowing my fight's over." Elijah sighed, heaving out another breath as Ricky held up the Senzu bean.

"Nah, you can still keep going, look, this will heal you and make you just the way you were-"

"Slick, I was never meant to stay. None of us are." Elijah revealed but his words felt flawed to Ricky, who sat down and scooted the chair close to the bed.

"But it was you who told me to keep moving forward. You told me not to let the past weigh me down. And now you're just gonna stop? Doesn't that go against everything you told me?" Ricky genuinely asked, needing any sort of clarification as the old man turned his head back to him.

"I never said the road didn't have an end." Elijah smiled faintly, chuckling at the ending of the sentence as Ricky grabbed his forehead.

"I just don't understand, I'm giving you the chance, I'm extending the road for you." Ricky gritted his teeth, his fingers twitching around the bean.

"And I appreciate it, Slick. But I think I've walked far enough." Elijah's gaze softened, patting Ricky's hand but leaving the bean there once he retracted it.

"Okay just listen to me, really listen." Ricky focused on Elijah, shaking his head and finding the words to express everything he wanted to say.

"I know people who've lived for f*cking centuries, I know a minotaur who found a purpose in life after feeling as if it was all meaningless, I know you can find that meaning again." Ricky almost pleaded with Elijah, stating not only his own opinion but experiences.

"Slick, I hear you. I really do." Elijah paused, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

"But I'm not them."

I think at this moment, Ricky learned that some things were out of his control. 

No matter how powerful he became, no matter how many shortcuts or solutions he found, there were battles he simply couldn't win. 

He had spent so much time believing he could fix, heal, and control anything, that if he just pushed hard enough, willed it enough, the world would bend to him.

But Elijah wasn't the world, he was a man, a tired one, and no force of will could make him take a path he no longer wished to walk.

And Ricky f*cking hated it.

Just hated the helplessness clawing at his chest, the way his fingers curled around the Senzu bean as if he could force meaning back into Elijah's life but at that moment, he understood.

Like Jake, sometimes you had to let go.

"I've lived my life the best I could and I'm not scared of what comes next." Elijah said, his words ringing in Ricky's ears as the man sitting by his bedside was silent.

"I'm ready."

Elijah's words poured out, dousing Ricky in that cold realization of acceptance since it wasn't hesitation, wasn't doubt, it was final.

Ricky's grip tightened around the bean, his jaw clenching as he stared at the man before him. 

A part of him wanted to argue, to shake Elijah until he saw reason, to selfishly control him to his own desires, but deep down, Ricky knew this wasn't something he could fight.

Elijah had made his choice.

Ricky had to accept that some things, no matter how much he hated it and had the power to change it, weren't his to change.

"Okay." Ricky's words had this hollowed finality in it, unable to understand but instead, accepted Elijah's decision.

Ricky slowly stood up, turning to the door and slowly walking out as if it all just registered on his shoulders at that moment.

"Thank you, for everything." Elijah said, his appreciation stopping Ricky at the door as the man turned around.

"Nah Elijah, thank you, for everything." Ricky just laughed through it all, tapping the doorway and closing the door behind him.

Ricky would learn this in the future, but the hardest part about living a long time wasn't the people who constantly vied for whatever you had, it was watching those you cared about wither away.

It wasn't the fights, the rivalries, or the endless battles for power that wore a man down, it was moments like this. 

Watching someone who once stood tall, someone who had been a part of your life, slowly fade.

And knowing there wasn't a damn thing you could do about it.

But in those moments, it's how you really move forward, because people aren't defined by how far they have traveled, but by how much they can persevere through it all, and some just aren't strong enough for the journey.

When Ricky's eyes lifted, his green irises gleamed with a different light. 

Once, that light had been filled with respect for Elijah, for the man he was but now, as he stood there, he understood something deeper.

If he wanted everything he desired, if he truly wanted to carve his own path, he could never be like Elijah.

He could never be like one of those people.

Sure, he could accept them, but he could never understand them.

"Isaiah." Ricky called out, his gaze fixed straight ahead while Isaiah sniffled by the door, curled up into a ball as if he'd heard every word.

"Y-Yeah, Slick?" Isaiah asked, wiping his eyes and when he looked up, Ricky's expression held something new, an understanding that would only be defined in time.

"Come find me when your pops passes away." Ricky said simply, leaving it at that as he turned and walked away, leaving Isaiah crumpled on the floor, speechless.

Ricky didn't utter another word as he left the store, opening a portal and stepping through, not to Italiano's, but to a different destination.

He arrived outside a certain building, standing still as the weight of the moment settled over him.

Ricky let out a slow, measured breath, releasing his emotions with the stream of air. 

With both hands, he slicked his hair back, his fingers dragging through the strands as if grounding himself and then, he opened his eyes, facing the reality set before him.

BAM

"I THINK I UNDERSTAND!" Alexander roared from atop Bucephalus, who slammed down onto the sidewalk for dramatic flair.

"Huh?" Ricky, caught off guard and having his moment interrupted, blinked at the outlandish display.

Alexander wasted no time, quickly running down Bucephalus's snout before leaping onto Ricky's shoulder. 

"I think I understand why Merlyn attacked earlier!" Alexander declared, his weather-battled mind seemingly piecing together the old wizard's intentions.

"Well, great timing as always." Ricky sighed, shaking his head while Alexander raised his head high, basking in his own self-importance.

As they walked into the building, Bucephalus remained outside, accustomed to waiting in such situations. 

Passersby whispered among themselves, but none dared to approach the overly muscular horse.

Ding

The elevator doors slid open, revealing a room filled with figures clad in their respective uniforms.

Mobsters, witches and warlocks, and mutants alike stood scattered throughout the space, yet as Ricky stepped out, every one of them subtly bowed their heads in acknowledgment.

He barely spared them a glance as his focus was locked on the door at the far end of the hall, his stride carrying a purpose that none of those lingering outside could ever begin to understand.

"Look who decided to finally show up." 

The moment Ricky pushed the door open, his eyes landed on Lucky, though, for once, the old man wasn't seated at the end of the table.

"Slight hiccup, that's all." Ricky chuckled, his voice laced with that signature nonchalance as he took in the room, letting his gaze drift over the surroundings.

Everyone of high authority was present, whether it was the high-ranking members of the Luciano Family, Agatha's coven, or even Elias.

Despite their differing views, allegiances, and very natures, they all shared one thing in common, one unifying factor that bound them together.

Their eyes followed that very force, pupils tracking with a certain reverence, an unspoken recognition of authority as the movement was unhurried yet absolute, like the pull of gravity itself.

One by one, their gazes settled on the head of the table.

On Ricky.

Without a word, he took his seat, Alexander perched on his shoulder like a regal specter of conquest. 

The room, once filled with murmurs and shifting glances, now fell into a hushed stillness. 

Power did not need to announce itself, it simply existed, and in that moment, Ricky embodied it.

"Now, let's begin this impromptu war committee."

Author's Note: Saw some questions, will answer them later, ones that stuck out were about the updates pics which I'll provide and Madame St. Clair = Stephanie

ALSO THIS FIC HAS 1 MILLION WORDS!

Pretty f*cking crazy if you ask me.