It's 6... 7
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Death had peeled away a sliver of reality to create a pocket dimension and created an illusion of Dante in Emma's limo just so he could have a nap without interruption. But he couldn't bring himself to sleep for more than a minute.
This was the first real moment they had together after a long time. Back when he only had Death and the tiny apartment.
So he stayed awake and talked to her about the results of the universe, where she had gone off to.
She averted her gaze. "It's still the same… slowly withering away."
The way she dodged eye contact was… very human. Was she hiding something from him? In the first place, she didn't have to leave. As a singular entity, she could have awareness in any universe. Yet, she had spun a lie to excuse herself.
"Why aren't you resting?" she gently scolded him. "All of my effort is wasted."
He rubbed the back of his head against her thighs. "I get to experience these thighs. What else could I possibly want?"
A teasing smirk curved her lips. "Will you leave your mortal kittens for these thighs?"
"I would," he lied with a straight face. "But it'll make Death's boyfriend look like a pussy who can't accept responsibility."
"I'm quite fine with that," she continued teasing him. "That slander is nothing compared to curses I receive every day."
Death was universally hated. Even now, thousands were cursing her for causing someone to lose their child, sibling, husband, mother.
She caressed his chest, drawing a circle around outside of his heart. "What else, Companion?"
"Well, they also have great thighs. A real man wouldn't choose one over another. He'll choose them all."
He really had no play left to counter her other than full honesty.
"Why would you leave those two for me," she grinned. "When you can have all three."
"Right."
He savored every moment of conversation and the lap pillow until the good time ended when Death disappeared like a mirage, and his head bumped against the leather seat below.
"You're at your destination."
He sat up slowly, rubbing the back of his skull. The limo's interior felt colder without her. He peered out through the tinted glass.
Beyond the black iron bars, lay a clean stone pathway, curving through a blanket of fresh snow toward a large, stately building with two stories of pale gray stone. The row of windows gave a strong impression of an institutional building.
He squinted at the brass plaque bolted to the stone pillar beside the gate, barely visible in the dark.
Massachusetts Academy.
This was the academy Emma had secured to train her young mutants.
The driver's-side door opened as Emma stepped out first and opened the car door for him, a faint glimmer of guilt showing in the brief eye contact.
"The dorm building is behind the academy," she said, glancing past him toward Logan and Laura's unconscious forms. "Crash in whichever one isn't occupied. I'll have Psylocke keep watch over our guests."
Psylocke nudged the blonde aside with one hand, and leaned in to unfasten Laura's seatbelt.
"Let me," Dante offered, already moving to help her.
Psylocke shook her head. "It's fine."
"Then I'll get Logan."
Logan looked like he had gone for a dip in a bloody lake. Laura, by comparison, was only lightly spattered. It made more sense for Dante, who already reeked of blood and sweat, to handle the messier one. Logan mutant was also heavier, which honestly might be nothing for someone with Psylocke's physical strength.
"Alright," Psylocke said and lifted Laura, cradling her like she weighed nothing.
Dante climbed out of the limo and leaned back in to haul Logan up by the shoulders. Despite his small size, Logan weighed more than the weights Piotr lifted. Without the Biokinesis optimization, he would've failed to properly sling Logan over one shoulder in a fireman's carry.
"Do you need help?" echoed Venom's voice in his mind as it woke up from its hibernation state. A proper bonding with Dante wouldn't magically wipe away the years of trauma it had accumulated in the lab.
Venom still needed rest.
"I'm fine," he replied through their link. "Go back to sleep."
"We will. Wake us up when you need our strength."
"Hmm."
Psylocke had already crossed a dozen meters by the time he closed the car door.
"I would give up on those clever little tricks," Emma said with a smirk. "Psylocke won't fall for you like those damsels you've charmed so far."
A calm voice echoed from behind her, "Emma Frost, you're saying Death is a damsel?"
Emma's smirk vanished as she shivered visibly. Death's voice could soothe a dying man's final breaths or make any mortal experience the most primal fear. Right now, Emma was experiencing the latter.
As soon as she snapped out of it, her head whipped around, blue eyes darting frantically across the empty snow-dusted pathway in search for the source. Death stood right behind Emma, yet the telepath couldn't perceive it. Death only manifested to those she chose or those on the death's door. Emma qualified for neither. She was very much alive, and very much not invited to see Death's visage.
Emma cleared her throat. "I... didn't mean to imply any disrespect toward you."
"Yet you insulted me with the word damsel."
Death usually wouldn't have even minded such an insult. However, Death was there when Emma had considered stabbing her companion in the back. As much as Death was indifferent toward mortals, she still cared for Dante. Watching his ally consider betrayal was quite grating for her.
"You should know it was meant for Felicia and Silver Sable," Emma replied. "Not you."
Dante shot a quick, subtle gesture to Death to drop the topic. She did so with an angry "Hmph!" that left Emma shivering again.
He revealed with a weary half-smile. "You would've called me a heartless jerk if I let her carry both on her own. Tell me, am I wrong?"
Emma's mouth opened. Once again, the White Queen had no cutting retort. She just stood there, the flush of embarrassment creeping up her neck beneath the fur collar of her coat.
"I'm not trying to impress anyone," he added with a shrug. "Just doing what any halfway decent person would."
He brushed past her without another glance, following Psylocke's retreating silhouette towards the academy's entrance. Emma lingered a moment longer before hurrying to catch up with him.
Inside the academy, Emma separated from them in the hallway, too sleepy and tired to care about where Logan and Laura would spend the night. Her business was done with bringing Dante here.
Dante ended up in what looked like a staff lounge. Oversized leather chairs were placed in front of desks and cabinets stacked full of files. He eased Logan into one armchair. Psylocke settled Laura into the facing chair before stepping back.
Psylocke didn't sit. Instead, she climbed on a heavy oak desk before sitting down. Knees tucked under, spine straight, and katana laid across her thighs like a samurai—it was a perfect seiza kneel Dante remembered from anime.
She drew her katana, inspecting its edge closely. Glancing at him, she said, "You can leave. I'll make sure they don't leave this room."
Dante believed her. With Logan and Laura drained, her telekinesis alone would be enough to pin them in place if they woke up with hostile intentions. She also had telepathy, the bane of both father and daughter.
"They'll be hungry when they wake up. Their Healing Factor uses quite a lot of energy."
Psylocke noted the advice with a nod. "Anything else?"
"We can swap places if you need rest."
Her eyes narrowed warily. "Why?"
Emma had put her in charge of guard duty. She couldn't understand why he would want to help her.
"I need you at full strength tomorrow," he said bluntly. "Who else will keep Natasha in check?"
Even with his Death Resonance, he wasn't confident in defeating Ghost Rider Natasha. Nearly every Spirit of Vengeance turned their hosts near-immortal. He had read enough comics to know how powerful a Ghost Rider could become.
Surprise flickered across her face at his honest admission. "I'm not Emma's attack dog. I don't recall agreeing to be yours either. Give me a reason to oppose SHIELD."
"I'll give you two," Dante answered with a confident smile. "First? You don't do anything half-heartedly."
She had thoroughly dissected Nobu's corpse, leaving him with no chance to resurrect through the Hand's resurrection method. Afterwards, she stayed to fight Natasha. Someone like her carried out jobs to completion.
An amused smile curled her lips. "And the second?"
"Second is…" He let the silence stretch long enough to be noticeable, watching the subtle shift in her posture as curiosity got the better of her. It got her fully invested as she waited in anticipation like a kid waiting for their Christmas gift. "I'll tell you tomorrow."
The second one was still a restless theory in his mind that SHIELD had some sort of truce with the Hand. Otherwise, SHIELD would've sent someone to stop their assault. The mobilization of hundreds of people and over fifty vehicles wouldn't have slipped past SHIELD's satellites, all of which would be currently focused on this area, where Symbiotes had showed up.
Psylocke's response was a small, exasperated shake of her head, as if scolding herself for taking the bait. "Emma was right. You're annoying."
"I'll give you a hint. It's related to the Hand."
"That explains a lot."
Dante chuckled under his breath and turned toward the door. "See me tomorrow if you wanna know more."
His expression became serious as he stepped into the hallway. Emma had every incentive to cooperate with him as his ally. Still, he wouldn't put his complete faith in Emma and Psylocke showing up.
He needed a reliable deterrence against Natasha or become one himself through a new Resonance Link.
His body would rest while he dove through someone's consciousness.
He held plenty of versatile Resonance Links. Death offered raw power and survival. Dr. Strange worked for mystic cases and could be mastered to be used for everything. Sue Storm filled in the gap for defensive and concealment. Elixir for healing and empowerment.
What he didn't have was someone whose entire existence revolved around fighting. Someone with pure skills and battle instincts. He needed that edge now more than ever to bring full power out of his current Resonance Links.
Leaving the academy building behind, he crossed the courtyard to the dormitory building. Inside, the halls were quiet and dim, a single strip of emergency lighting illuminating along the ceiling.
The first floor was a row of identical doors. Not a single one had a note or "Do Not Disturb" signs to show a room as occupied. The second and third floors were the same. Emma's young mutants were either too lazy or too used to having the dorms to themselves.
"Death," he whispered to himself, knowing his cosmic girlfriend was listening. "Mind telling me which room isn't taken?"
Death showed up, arms crossed, and a cute pout on her face. "You really want to reduce a cosmic entity into your errand girl."
She had been doing his disguise, guarding him when he rested, and now asked to check up on a building.
"I'm exhausted, Death," he said, giving her a pleading gaze. "Please…"
It was well past 3 AM, not the best time to be checking which door was locked and which wasn't. He could press his ear against every door, but why would he do that when he could just ask his girlfriend with cosmic-level awareness?
"Only this once," she said with a sigh before pointing at the door at the very end of the corridor. "That one."
"Nobody wants to walk all the way. I should've thought about that."
He entered the dorm room, which had two beds placed side by side, two desks beside the opposite windows, and a shared bathroom. For a normal campus, the spacious room would be considered a step up. However, it felt disappointingly average considering this place had a billionaire as its Headmaster.
Still quite passable to spend a night.
"Death, you wanna cuddle?"
Death appeared sitting on the bed. "You simply want to use me as your bodyguard again."
"Yeah," he admitted without shame. "But I do want to cuddle. Don't you?"
Her stern facade cracked momentarily as her eyes softened. She stretched out a hand, beckoning him in an invitation. "Very well."
He blinked, caught off guard by her easy acceptance. She had humored the lap pillows before, sure, but cuddling was a completely new territory. Still, he wasn't about to be passive when Death had given him an agreement.
"Hang on—let me shower first."
He reached for the hem of his shirt, but her fingers caught his wrists before he could lift it. She tugged gently at his collar instead, drawing him closer until their faces were inches apart.
"Companion, there is no need," she whispered, pulling him closer. "I don't mind the scent of blood."
On the contrary, she seemed to appreciate it. Death had her own taste.
"Sure…?"
Just like that, he found himself sprawled on the not-so-comfy bed with Death curled against his side, her head using his chest as a pillow, and her hand caressing his neck. Her presence made every discomfort irrelevant.
"Good night, Companion."
"You too."
He didn't know if Death could sleep. His mind had already moved on to the more important task.
'Null, show me Resonance Link for most skilled fighters.'
[Shang-Chi] - Often called the Master of Kung Fu. Trained from birth in virtually all Earthly martial arts. Considered the greatest pure fighter.]
[Iron Fist (Danny Rand)- The new K'un-Lun's champion. Mystical martial artist with mastery of chi and numerous styles.]
[Taskmaster (Anthony Masters) - A unique talent. Photographic reflexes let him perfectly copy any physical movement or fighting style after single observation]
[Black Panther (T'Challa) - Master of multiple styles plus Wakandan exclusive techniques]
[Captain America (Steve Rogers) - One of the best combatants with unmatched experience]
[Mantis (Brandt) - Celestial Madonna. A master in manipulation of pressure points. Has stunned Thor despite not having superhuman strength]
[Karnak - Trained himself to excel in perceiving stress points or weaknesses in all objects or persons around him]
[Ares…]
The list kept going with Elektra, Stick, Matt Murdock, the full roster of comic-book specialists. Expected, given Marvel's huge roster.
Mantis' ability tempted him; those pressure points could stun any opponent with the right observation skills, which he was already developing. But her mind would be a difficult task. She was raised in a Priest of Pama—a sect of Kree pacifist monks.
'I'll just experience her life once to get the basics.'
For today, however, he had other two candidates on his mind.
Shang-Chi and Taskmaster.
Both were the greatest in their respective roles.
'Null, if I permanently gain Taskmaster's photographic reflexes... will it cost me my memories?'
In the comics, Taskmaster's gift came at a cost. Anthony Masters could watch someone move once and his body would store it as muscle memory like data on a hard drive. The ability quirk that made him a perfect mimic also ate his personal memories. Every new fighting style carved out another piece of who he used to be. A hell of a price to pay for being the best copycat in Marvel.
[Administrator's memories are actively backed up in Universe-X's database. This serves as a safeguard against identity erosion caused by immersing in the minds of Characters, as Administrator prefers to call them.]
Null's response made it a fair one-to-one between Shang-Chi and Taskmaster.
One was the best martial artist and the other was capable of copying anyone's fighting style. One had been trained from a young age to be his father's assassin and the other was born with Photographics Reflexes.
The decision wasn't easy as both offered exactly what he needed—fighting skills to fill the glaring gap in his arsenal.
The practical choice was obviously Taskmaster. With him, every fighting style would be instantly replicated. However, that would require him to find other skilled fighters.
Shang-Chi would let him learn great martial arts at the highest level, which paired with Helio Reactor would let him defeat people far above his league.
He spent nearly ten minutes in a mental debate and still couldn't decide.
'Fuck it. I'll take both.'
Diving into Taskmaster's consciousness as Anthony lost his memories would be an unpleasant time. However, it still won't be as terrible as Dr. Strange and nowhere close to the moment spent in Death's consciousness.
The plan had become simple with that choice. Permanently own Taskmaster's Photographic Reflexes by maxing out his Resonance Link, then use the ability to absorb Shang-Chi's martial arts and skills when experiencing his life.
'I should be done by the morning.'
Null Repository's way to transfer information over a full-life simulation saved so much time.
'Null, begin the transfer process for Taskmaster.'
***
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