A distant bell slowly tolled.
It was as if waking from a dream.
Ian's eyelids fluttered slightly, then his eyes opened. The first thing he saw was a snow-white ceiling—grayish-white, cold, and metallic. This was the medical bay of the Justice League's underground base, where he had been forced to sleep wherever he collapsed earlier.
Having returned from the Marvel Universe, Ian's mind was still processing the events concerning Morgan Stark and the reality rift. Meanwhile, the Flash, who had been anxiously pacing in the room for over half an hour—anxiety levels high enough to give him prostatic nodules—immediately spoke up. "Thank heavens! Ian! You're finally alive!"
"You're still Ian, right? Not some other person's soul wearing Ian's skin?" Barry Allen, the Flash, was still circling Ian at blinding speed.
He was moving so fast he was leaving after-images in the air. His face was a mask of worry and tension, as if he was on constant guard against the possibility of the 'mysterious dream boy' who had possessed Ian suddenly attacking.
"No, no… I need to confirm if his consciousness is damaged… if his brain has been corrupted or eroded… I need Dr. Wells and S.T.A.R. Labs' assistance."
He said, still moving at speed, while picking up the comms device in the Batcave. He never stopped running, and Ian's eyes could barely track his movement.
Without the oppressive gravity of the Outer Universe, the Flash hadn't just recovered his superspeed; his recent strenuous training had made him even faster than before.
"Uncle Barry, can't you control your legs?" Ian struggled to follow the Flash's trajectory, a red blur frantically circling in front of him.
He was so fast he almost rivaled Superman.
"If you can't control them, you could try tying them up. Trust me, free-range legs won't run faster than penned ones." Ian's tone was as earnest as if he were discussing pet husbandry.
He, after all, raised two Speed Force legs.
"Such sass! Good, good, that's great, you're still you." Barry Allen's expression froze for an instant, and the after-images abruptly slammed to a halt.
He stopped directly in front of Ian.
His face was etched with anxiety.
"Ian… do you have any… bad feelings?" Barry Allen waved his hands in front of Ian, his voice lowered to a whisper, as if afraid someone might overhear. He remained cautious, glancing occasionally at Superman, who stood motionless by the bedside like an ancient Greek statue.
"Just a tiny bit."
Ian looked at the unusually behaving Barry with suspicion. He wondered if his spontaneous 'sleep wherever he collapsed' behavior had led Barry to think he had contracted a rare condition like 'Sleeping Beauty Syndrome.'
"Wh-What feeling?!"
The Flash's pupils contracted sharply, his whole body tense as a coiled spring. He stared intently at the boy, his expression nervous and concerned, only to see the youth clutch his stomach with a pained expression.
"The pizza I ordered on my friend's credit card in the dream hasn't arrived, and then I woke up. I'm so hungry now. Do you think there are any wild Mexican burritos outside in Gotham at this hour?"
"Maybe I could pay a visit to my obsessive fans. I'm sure they'd be willing to treat me to a delicious poisoned macaroni. Hopefully, they'll be generous with the super chemical seasonings."
Ian swallowed hard.
His voice was filled with a craving for food.
He was, after all, still at a growing age.
Including the time spent in Marvel, Ian hadn't eaten for over ten hours. He had also thrown up a few times during his fight against Cthulhu, so describing his current state as 'belly pressed against his back with hunger' was no exaggeration.
"…"
Barry Allen had developed the good habit of not questioning how outrageous Ian's diet was. He simply watched as Ian began rummaging through the Batcave's storage.
Ian's stomach let out a loud protest, "Goo-goo-goo." Rubbing his grumbling belly, he ransacked the Batcave, looking every bit like a starved ghost emerging from hell.
"Has Dad not woken up yet?" Ian was naturally also concerned about Superman and Batman. An hour had passed since Superman grabbed hold of Batman's pectorals and refused to let go.
He guessed his subjective-minded father had awakened yet another subjective-minded ability.
"He woke up once in the middle, but he brought some tools back with him to save Bruce, and then reverted to this state." The Flash's reply confirmed Ian's guess.
Barry Allen did not elaborate on what 'tools' Superman had brought back to save Bruce, feeling that Ian might be repulsed or panicked to learn that Batman collected blood from many small boys.
"You have to trust my dad; he's always on time to save everything." Ian decided to give his father another 'faith buff,' unaware that the Flash simultaneously felt a sense of offense.
"…"
The Flash felt Ian was criticizing him, as he was often too late to save everything. As he watched, Ian opened Batman's doomsday reserve food warehouse.
There was no need to try the password.
Because he could just eat the door right off.
[Entropy Lord Experience +11]
The metallic matter of the material world did not provide Ian with Savage Tyrant experience, but a small amount of Entropy Lord experience could be gained from metallic matter.
Since the alloy equipment here was quite unique, eleven points of experience was actually a high acquisition rate for metallic matter.
This was also why Ian usually disliked eating doors; in fact, if the Door to Heaven hadn't been too tough to chew before, Ian figured its experience value would have been substantial enough.
Seeing the iron door chewed through with a large hole, the Flash truly believed Ian was hungry.
"I'm not worried about your father, I'm only worried about you… Honestly, Ian, is there any voice… talking to you in your head?" Barry Allen watched Ian crawl into the food warehouse and begin to feast, cautiously continuing his line of questioning.
Ian picked up a few boxes of compressed biscuits in the warehouse.
"I don't have multiple personality disorder. It's just that my super-brain sometimes doesn't like to obey my commands." He mumbled a reply while stuffing biscuits into his mouth.
"It's actually a normal thing. I'm about to turn fifteen, and my brain is in its rebellious phase." He continuously scavenged Batman's food supply.
[Detected and absorbed deadly toxins, Savage Tyrant Experience +12]
From time to time, the system prompt would ring in Ian's ear. Clearly, Batman's stored food was sourced from Schrödinger—before you ate it, no one knew whether Batman had poisoned it.
The man with the most severe paranoid delusion in Gotham usually acted this way. Ian didn't mind toxins, he even actively sought chemical substances.
In the conspicuously "mysteriously opened" hazardous materials warehouse, Ian scavenged a large amount of various dangerous chemical substances, which he treated as beverages to help him swallow the compressed biscuits.
[Savage Tyrant Experience +260]
[Entropy Lord Experience +39]
[Savage Tyrant Experience +230]
[Entropy Lord Experience +39]
[Savage Tyrant Experience +185]
…
[Entropy Lord Lv11 (1750/10240)]
Ian consumed a mouthful of Sun Soup with a mouthful of chemical agent. Not only was he full, but his experience points were soaring. However, the digestion and absorption of the Sun Soup were noticeably less effective than that of the chemically enhanced agents.
He quickly reached his saturation point for the day's Sun Soup. Ian looked at the Slumbering Ancient God in the cup, which remained unchanged, and believed this soup, brewed from an ancient god, would last him until adulthood.
"So many chemical agents, I must eat them whether I can finish them or not." Ian had greatly overestimated his appetite and underestimated Batman's 'fear of insufficient firepower' in all its forms.
He didn't want to just eat and take, but who knew when he would get this chance again? Packing up the unfinished agents, Ian walked out of Batman's warehouse.
[You have leveled up.]
[Savage Tyrant Lv11 (1321/10240)]
[Strength: 401 -> 406]
[Constitution: 419 -> 422]
[Intelligence: 40.7 -> 40.8]
[Spirit: 155 -> 156]
As an Elementary Class, the boost was not substantial, but it was better than nothing. Ian knew that it wouldn't be long before he could promote Savage Tyrant to Merciless Conqueror.
No rush.
Take it slow.
Compared to other Classes that became Ultimate Classes right from the start, the promotion model of Savage Tyrant and Berserker wasn't bad, because they would receive an extra wave of benefits during the promotion that Ultimate Classes didn't get.
"Can't finish it, absolutely can't finish it." Ian had still overestimated his appetite and underestimated Batman's paranoia.
He didn't want to eat and take, but who knew when he would have this opportunity again? Packing up the unfinished agents, Ian exited Batman's warehouse.
"Why don't you chew on Bruce's Batmobile a few times?" The Flash had watched the entire process, and his nature as a Batman 'hater' might have surfaced once more.
However, Ian wasn't keen on eating metal.
"No thanks, no nutrition. Pure junk food." Ian had only eaten the door to save time, who would eat a door when there was other high-value, highly nutritious food available?
The boy looked at the Flash as if he were mentally ill.
"…"
The Flash finally realized he couldn't keep up with Ian's logic. However, seeing Ian alive and well, and not possessed, the older, single hero breathed a huge sigh of relief.
"Actually, I feel I must confess: due to my carelessness, the contamination on me took advantage of my distraction and escaped from my body into yours."
The Flash was not a man who shirked responsibility. He felt that even though Ian seemed fine now, he still needed to be honest about the mess he had created.
The air was silent for a second.
Ian's face showed none of the anger or surprise Barry had expected.
"I knew there was a reason I got stronger! It was Uncle Barry's gift!" The youth suddenly understood, and patted the still-immobilized Batman on the forehead.
He gradually pieced the situation together, realizing that his sudden awakening of a new Class was not, as he had previously thought, a system giveaway, but a great gift from the Flash.
"Thank you!"
Ian performed a respectful thirty-six degree bow.
"Huh?"
Barry was confused by Ian's reaction. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "So, not only are you okay, but you completely digested that source of contamination?"
The Flash couldn't help but recall the mysterious dream boy's plea for help. It seemed the boy wasn't faking after all, and Superman and Batman were indeed wise to use Ian's blood to fight the contamination.
This boy was clearly more demonic than the contamination itself.
"Not completely digested, no. Only about ninety-five percent digested, with the remaining five percent currently being worked on." Ian looked at the system panel in his mind.
[Extra Dimension] New Data Analysis Progress: 95%.
This was significantly slower than the progress made when digesting the world fragment contained in the Monster Titan last time, which was related to Ian's relative lack of power and the fact that the universe in the Flash's body was probably quite large.
"That's just how we Kryptonians are." Seeing the Flash gape, speechless, Ian preemptively closed the conversation, blocking any opportunity for him to question his lineage.
"…"
What else could the Flash say? He glanced at Superman nearby, who could hear people's heartbeats, and decided it was better to believe this explanation.
The Kent family was truly demonic.
It was possible none of them were truly human.
The Flash decided to take this suspicion to his grave.
"Uncle Barry, we need to find a way to help my dad." Now that Ian was fed and energized, he wanted something to do. However, as he looked through his list of skills, he couldn't find anything that allowed him to invade another person's soul. The comprehensive skill tree of the Aberrant Dominator did include Professor X's ability.
However.
That skill required level ten to learn.
"What way?"
The Flash looked at Ian's expression and largely guessed that Ian already had a plan. He asked curiously, and the boy showed an eager expression.
"Maybe you can run with me into Batman's dream. You can get subjective, too. Running is running, no matter where you go; as long as you have a destination in your heart, you will surely arrive."
Ian attempted to subjectively modify the Flash.
Unfortunately, Barry Allen didn't seem to trust him much.
"Can the Speed Force do that?"
He actually looked skeptical, showing no trust whatsoever in Ian's Idealism Theory.
"Of course, it can!" Ian began to psychologically manipulate him with earnest words. "The Speed Force is one of the strongest powers in the universe! As long as you believe hard enough, it will never disappoint a speedster!"
His words carried an encouraging, inspiring tone.
The Flash felt his blood surge, his heart pounding.
The Speed Force even felt like it was surging within his body.
"Then I'll try it." Barry Allen took a deep breath and adopted a starting posture—then suddenly froze, his whole body caught mid-action as if the pause button had been pressed.
"What is it?"
Ian tilted his head.
"Uh…"
Barry's expression grew increasingly strange.
As if he had heard something unbelievable.
"I… I'm having hallucinations again."
He hesitated before replying to Ian.
"Were you contaminated again?" Ian was surprised. If it were anyone else being continuously contaminated, he'd think they were unlucky, but with the Flash, no surprise was needed.
The Justice League's frequently 'banned' member was just that potent.
"No, I wasn't contaminated, and I wasn't invaded and contaminated by an Outer Universe." Barry Allen didn't want to be locked up again, so he quickly denied it.
"It's the Speed Force… it's talking to me."
The Flash was caught between words.
His expression became even more complicated.
"Ha?"
This was somewhat unexpected for Ian.
"It said it couldn't do that kind of thing, and told me not to foolishly try it, and not to let you lead me astray with your deception…" The Flash looked at Ian with utter shock.
Just now, in the hallucination caused by activating the Speed Force, he had clearly felt the Speed Force's deep apprehension towards Ian. Even the Speed Force thought the younger Kent was an anomaly!
"You'd trust the Speed Force over me? What does the Speed Force know about Idealism?! You're so emotionally distant, Uncle Barry!" Ian sighed, very frustrated.
Barry didn't know how to respond to that.
He was a speedster.
Of course, he had to trust the Speed Force.
"Maybe we can try another way."
Seeing that Ian seemed unwilling to give up, Barry Allen, having been scolded by the Speed Force, quickly looked at the dream-exploring machine Batman had tried to use earlier, which gave him a flash of inspiration.
"Actually… Batman already built a new dream-probing machine. We can just modify this machine slightly to let it observe Bruce's dream through Superman's observation!"
This was the solution the Flash had come up with after the Speed Force surged through his brain.
"Will that work?"
Ian was a bit skeptical of the Flash's ability to build things. He recalled that the first attempt at every invention by the Flash and his team often had the same success rate as Iron Man's initial inventions.
Almost zero chance of success.
"Of course!"
Barry Allen didn't know where his confidence came from. "Now we have Superman as the 'converter,' so we just need the machine to capture Superman's sensory signals!"
"Batman's failure before was because he tried to observe directly, but we only need to observe indirectly now. It must succeed." The Flash felt he had thought of a method Batman had missed.
"I have a way too."
Ian felt the Flash's idea wasn't wrong, but he really didn't want to sit in a lab and watch a movie; he wanted to participate personally so he wouldn't lose the MVP honor.
The Outer Universe Invasion was his story!
"Let's try my method first."
The Flash was worried Ian would pull another unexpected trick.
With that, he used Batman's comms device to call S.T.A.R. Labs, gathering his scientist friends for a brainstorming session.
Over the next ten minutes, Barry Allen entered "speedster + scientist" dual-mode. He was zipping around the lab, rapidly modifying the dream-probing device.
He had helped Bruce rebuild this device, so he understood it well. Because of this, Barry Allen was listening to Cisco's vibration wave theory, adjusting the energy frequency according to Caitlin's advice, and even taking the time to call Dr. Wells to ask about the possibility of using the Speed Force as a "bridge."
Dr. Wells, being the Reverse-Flash disguised as a man in a wheelchair and possessing knowledge from the future, naturally understood everything. His explanation was an epiphany for the Flash.
"So, Barry, what exactly is going on over there?" Dr. Wells pretended to ask casually, trying to learn the details from the Flash.
"We ran into some problems. Batman and Superman are in trouble because…" Completely unprepared and trusting Dr. Wells implicitly, the Flash was about to answer.
"Bang!"
Ian snatched the communicator right out of the Flash's hand. Before Barry could even react, the $3,000 latest model phone was casually stuffed into the young demonic god's mouth.
He didn't eat it.
Instead, it was transferred through his mouth into his Extra Dimension, thereby preventing any possible tracking or locating by the Reverse-Flash—he wasn't exposing the Reverse-Flash primarily because he was afraid the villain would run away.
It was always safest to keep enemies under one's nose. Ian hadn't forgotten the bad blood between himself and the Reverse-Flash, and he wasn't exposing him mainly because he wanted to capture the Reverse-Flash and use him to run a power plant.
Thor could generate electricity.
The Reverse-Flash naturally could too.
"What are you doing?!"
The Flash stared in astonishment at his empty hand.
"Suddenly got hungry again, wanted to play with a phone." Ian smacked his lips and rubbed his belly, a statement that didn't strike the Flash as odd in the slightest.
He actually found Ian's behavior perfectly normal.
This was perhaps the boy's steadily growing reputation.
"Good thing I already roughly know what to do." So, for the next period, Barry, who suspected nothing, merely thought that Superman would go bankrupt unless he took on a side job to feed Ian's appetite, started working frantically. With each adjustment, he became more focused, and his face gradually lit up with excitement.
"I think this time it's definitely going to work!"
Barry Allen said excitedly while tightening a screw.
Ian sat on the sofa, watching the countdown in his mind for [Extra Dimension New Data Analysis 99.9%], and enjoying the spectacle of the Flash's frantic performance.
"Uncle Barry is truly full of vitality…"
He sighed.
"Life is about challenges. Maybe I can do something Bruce couldn't." The Flash harbored a secret desire to stand in the absolute spotlight within the Justice League. Finally, after countless tweaks, tests, and more tweaks, the Flash excitedly announced that he had successfully built the new version of the dream-probing machine.
"It's done! I did it!"
He wiped the sweat from his brow, his face beaming with a sense of accomplishment.
"Now, all we have to do is activate this machine, and we can peer into Bruce's dream through Superman's perception!" The Flash took a deep breath and solemnly pressed the activation button.
"Vwooom—"
The machine let out a low rumble, the screen lit up, and then…
[Illegal Intrusion Detected]
[Explosion Countdown: 10:00]
The Flash: "???"
Before he could react.
0.01 seconds later.
"BOOM!!!"
The entire lab was consumed by a blinding white light. Fortunately, Ian was quick-witted, seizing the opportunity to rush forward and swallow the energy generated by the explosion, stopping the disaster in time.
[Entropy Lord Experience +198]
[Berserker Experience +34]
The smoke cleared.
Ian skillfully waited for his ruptured esophagus to be repaired, then let out a belch full of black smoke and radiation. He had genuinely eaten something good today.
[Berserker Experience +3]
[Berserker Experience +3]
[Berserker Experience +3]
…
Even after repairing himself, he was still receiving sustained benefits. Ian calmly held a fire extinguisher, putting out the last flicker of flame.
The Flash stood frozen on the spot.
He was not injured.
But he was devastated.
"See, Uncle Barry, you still don't understand Batman enough. You should have realized when he asked for your help building the machine that anything of Batman's, even if you put a tag on it for safe recycling, is practically an indiscriminate terrorist attack."
Ian sighed.
His tone was meaningful.
"…"
Barry slowly looked down.
He stared at the charred remains of the machine on the floor.
Then he looked up at Ian.
His lips trembled.
"It shouldn't be like this. I watched him assemble the machine; I even participated. How did he hide the bomb from me… And who… who puts a tactical nuclear bomb in their own equipment?!"
The Flash frantically pulled at his hair. He knew this could no longer be described as mere caution; even the word 'madness' might be an understatement for Bruce.
"Don't be discouraged. At least we proved your modified concept was correct—it's just that Batman's defensive measures are too outrageous." Ian sincerely comforted the Flash.
"…"
The Flash didn't reply, just slumped onto the floor in dejection.
"You can even eat a nuclear bomb?"
He looked at Ian with an increasingly strange gaze.
"That's just how Ian, the Eater of Universes, is." Ian checked his Extra Dimension. The new data had been fully analyzed, and he felt the simultaneous change in his extra dimension.
[Ding!]
[Extra Dimension Data Analysis Complete!]
[Fragmented Universe Fully Absorbed!]
[World Template Loading!]
The system prompt rang clearly in Ian's mind.
The next second.
He felt the Extra Dimension within him, which was originally barren, begin to violently shake—the ground undulated and stretched like an ocean wave, and the sky was lifted upward by an invisible hand.
The grayish-white mist tore apart, revealing a brand-new firmament.
"Whoa…"
Ian blinked.
His consciousness sank into his dimensional world.
"Why are you lying down again! Did you eat too much?" The Flash saw Ian fall backward without warning, and instinctively reached out to catch Ian's head before it hit the floor.
"Thump~"
A strange thing happened.
He couldn't touch Ian.
But he could hear the sound of Ian's head making intimate contact with the ground. If Ian hadn't been immersed in his consciousness, he would have definitely heard from that sound what a good head he had.
"It got so much bigger!"
Ian realized the world's scale had jumped from the size of Earth directly to the vastness of the Solar System. Although it still felt like a 'flat earth under a dome,' many new stars that could be landed upon had appeared in the sky.
Of course.
The changes to the land were the most striking; everything was different. The originally barren, tiny world was undergoing a visible and dramatic transformation.
The land began to stretch.
The sky was also rising.
Most shocking of all—modern cities were rising from the ground that had been expanded! Skyscrapers of steel and concrete appeared on the horizon like a divine miracle.
Neon lights flickered, streets crisscrossed, transportation rails ran through the air, and technology-heavy architectural clusters seemed to have been moved directly from another universe.
It formed a stark contrast with the surrounding, not yet fully integrated, forests, swamps, and ruins. The original primeval jungle still existed, with giant trolls still roaming among the towering ancient trees. But now, at the edge of this wilderness, a neat cut-line suddenly appeared. On one side of the line was the steel forest of a modern metropolis.
On one side was the primeval jungle, covered in vines and teeming with beasts, and on the other, a steel jungle, glittering with lights and flowing with traffic. The boundary was incredibly jarring.
It was as if two worlds had been forcibly stitched together, and residual distorted ripples from the spatial dislocation still lingered in the air. This sight truly terrified the group of trolls that had been active on the edge of the original world.
"We've entered a secret realm!"
"That side must be a secret realm!"
"No! There are so many humans inside! Scary! Too scary!"
The trolls frantically burrowed back into the jungle. The newly loaded urban area indeed had many people: office workers squeezed onto the subway, baristas frothing milk, and couples kissing on park benches—everyone was living life as usual, completely unaware that the ground beneath their feet had been spliced together with the primeval jungle of another dimension.
Cognitive filter.
A characteristic of dimensional compatibility.
Of course, not everyone was kept in the dark.
"Smack!"
A phone that Ian had 'eaten' earlier free-fell from the sky, accurately smashing onto the forehead of a very bewildered Franklin Richards.
"Hiss—"
The Omega-level mutant child rubbed his forehead, picked up the phone, and looked up with a twitching eye—a sun with a goofy smiling face was hanging there.
"How could there be a Dimensional Demon God like this in the DC Universe…" Franklin Richards looked up at the sky with a twitching eye. He could feel Ian's gaze but couldn't see Ian.
After waking up.
The former anchor of the mutant universe found that his abilities were suppressed. This was an effect of dimensional compatibility; he and his universe had become subservient to someone else.
"What exactly do you want to do with us?!" Franklin Richards felt profound fear in his heart. He raised his voice to the sky, asking the question. The people around him, due to his power's influence, were unaware of his presence.
"Do you intend to enslave us, or turn us into nutrients?"
Franklin Richards asked persistently.
The sky remained silent.
Just then.
His peripheral vision caught something moving at high speed from the direction of the primeval forest—two independent legs, empty above the knee, were sprinting towards the city at an astonishing speed.
"???"
Franklin Richards instinctively teleported to the boundary and raised his hand, releasing an invisible barrier to block the running legs. He used his power to restrain the two legs.
But he could not completely suppress their power.
"Seriously, what the hell is this thing?!" After being 'baptized' by the smiling sun, Franklin Richards had a slightly higher tolerance for the concept of running legs.
He attempted to turn the two dark-colored legs into toys.
However.
The suppression on his abilities was too strong. In the end, he could only watch as the dark-colored legs broke free from his restraint and ran back into the primeval forest in the opposite direction.
"Higher authority than mine? Ian's 'Dimensional Archon' pet?" Before the running legs escaped, Franklin Richards managed to glean some crucial information.
Ian's 'Dimensional Archon.'
This was clearly the name of the Dimensional Demon God.
"What kind of demon god raises two legs, and even puts AJ sneakers on them?!" Just as Franklin Richards was feeling confused and trying to figure out what the Dimensional Demon God was experimenting with.
"That's the 'Aimlessly Running Ghost.'" A soft female voice came from behind. An Elf emerged from the forest; she was currently picking glowing little mushrooms near the forest's edge.
"No one knows its origin, and no one knows what it wants to do."
"Some say they are lost ones from ancient legends, forever running because they cannot stop until their soul is exhausted, or until they find their lost butt. Others say they are tools created by the Creator to measure the land and monitor all living things—in short, they won't attack us, just don't touch them."
The Elf warned Franklin with a hint of apprehension.
Silence.
Long silence.
After an unknown amount of time, Franklin, who had been staring at the Elf picking mushrooms, finally found his voice. "If you don't mind me asking, why are you speaking English as an Elf?"
His tone was full of strangeness and an ineffable complexity.
"What do you mean, English? This is the most ancient Elven language." The Elf looked at Franklin in confusion and suspicion. "The language you're speaking right now is Orcish."
Her words made Franklin's expression even more spectacular. Franklin looked into the distance, where a group of Orcs was lurking in the forest, speaking English with an Australian accent.
On the other side.
A few trolls were huddled together for warmth.
They were chattering in Japanese.
Everything felt so natural, yet so utterly bizarre. At this moment, the highly intelligent Franklin understood. He looked up at the smiling sun in the sky again.
"The Dimensional Demon God here must have limited knowledge! He must be semi-illiterate… That's why his dimension doesn't have its own unique language system!"
No sooner had the words left his mouth.
The sky suddenly changed color.
Thunder roared in the sky.
The smiling sun immediately turned into a red-hot sun of rage. Thunderclouds churned, lightning snaked like wild serpents through the clouds, and the very air of the dimension became scorched.
"Don't provoke the Creator! The language the Creator bestowed is very useful! We are born automatically knowing it!" The Elf frantically pulled Franklin, though she was half a head taller than him, she couldn't force him to his knees.
"Apologize quickly! Praise the Creator for ten minutes, and he will forgive you!" The Elf began persuading Franklin, but Franklin stood his ground, proudly straightening his small back.
Of course.
His small back didn't stay straight for long.
"Hmph, apologize? I am Franklin Richards! Even if the Living Tribunal came!" He tried to boast, but before he could finish, he saw the sun sprout one hundred and eight hands.
Yes, one hundred and eight giant, dazzling golden hands reached out from the clouds. Each hand was clutching a bolt of lightning capable of shattering a planet, all aiming squarely at his waist.
"…"
The air froze for a second.
Feeling that every bolt of lightning could seal one of his powers, Franklin instantly knelt, raising his hands and offering the gold beneath his knees.
"Forgive me, I'm still a child."
He tried to salvage the situation.
"The Creator also says he is a child."
The Elf reminded Franklin that in this place, magic could not counter magic.
"…"
Franklin was speechless. Seeing the sun about to unleash the lightning, he quickly had a stroke of genius and began to praise. "Great Creator Ian! Your dimensional world is so exquisite and wonderful! The art of splicing shows your unconventional aesthetics! The diversity of languages proves your comprehensive wisdom!"
"Even those two running legs highlight your profound understanding of the Multiverse!" Years of wandering had smoothed out Franklin's rebellious streak.
He wasn't just saving himself.
He was attempting to save his absorbed universe. The ten-minute-long panegyric finally made the thunderclouds slowly dissipate. The sun's expression turned from rage to [Reluctantly Satisfied]. The sky finally returned to normal, the sun reverted to its goofy smiling face, and the one hundred and eight hands retracted, giving an "OK" gesture before leaving.
"Phew~"
Franklin wiped the sweat from his brow with his small hand.
"As a newborn human race, you still need to figure out the Creator's preferences. Want to try this? Roast chicken-flavored mushrooms are rare!"
"And that one—a red cap mushroom with the aroma of stewed meat! Only three gold coins." The Elf enthusiastically pitched her harvest to Franklin.
"Three gold coins?"
Franklin's expression gradually shifted from shock to numbness. He watched the Elf crack open a coconut to reveal pork chop rice. It was hard to imagine what kind of bizarre world this was.
"Yes, gold coins are the universal currency for all races. You need to pray to the Creator every day. Pray for half an hour, and you can get one gold coin. Fanatics can get two."
"The Orcs have many fanatics; they're quite wealthy." The Elf said with envy. Her words silenced the conspiracy theorist Franklin once more.
Could a Dimensional Demon God really extract faith this way?
The young Marvel Creator felt he had touched a knowledge blind spot.
"Hey! You sucked us into your dimension, you should at least come out and talk to me?!" Franklin looked up at the sky again, but he realized he could no longer sense the will of the Dimensional Demon God.
The young demonic god, who was also a child, had indeed left. Ian had other things to do. After clarifying his gains, he performed a sudden carp-jump to his feet.
"Wait, you only slept for one minute this time?"
The Flash was startled and stepped back.
It was mainly because Ian's carp-jump was too sudden.
He hit the ceiling in one go.
"Even though it was only a minute, I'm different now. I've gone from childhood to young adulthood, and I'm very powerful." Ian dropped from the ceiling to the floor. Having received the new dimensional data and unlocked many of the Dimensional Demon God's authorities, he knew he had officially become a brand new Dimensional Demon God.
"Now… no, my vocabulary isn't that lacking; I already used 'now' just a moment ago. I should use 'presently.' Presently, I have a way to enter Uncle Bruce's mind." Ian's voice was filled with confidence, and his demeanor caused the Flash's eyes to widen.
"How do you enter?"
The Flash really couldn't help but wonder. Was the demonic nature of the boy before him the ability to "evolve" whatever power he needed simply by lying down and thinking about it?
"Of course, with the most traditional method." Ian looked at Bruce, and a blurred, profound phantom image began to materialize behind him. This was one of the most fundamental authorities of a Dimensional Demon God.
[Dimensional Projection: Can partially project one's own dimension into the real world. Dimensional rules are automatically overwritten within the projection range.]
Almost all Dimensional Demon Gods had this capability. The reason Ian summoned his Dimensional Projection was that he intended to use it to do what Dimensional Demon Gods did.
"Dimensional Erosion!"
As he focused his will, the phantom image began to swell and stretch, engulfing his body like a tide.
Immediately after, Ian, wrapped in his Dimensional Projection, entered the universe contained within Batman's body, flesh and all, transforming into a torrent.
"Is this the illogical nature of the Idealism Theory? Where's the traditional part?" As the Flash watched dumbfounded, Ian's figure completely vanished from reality the next second.
The Dimensional Demon God had initiated an invasion and contamination of another dimension.
When Ian successfully invaded.
Beneath his feet was cracked, black earth, and the sky was a sickly, dark red. The dimensional phantom wrapped around him, like a flowing black-gold light, slowly expelling and reshaping the surrounding space. His presence was like a light from a higher dimension, illuminating this dark, decaying world.
"Oh my! Dad really couldn't resist making a move on Batman! What is he doing!?"
Ian's gaze penetrated the desolate, ruined world and focused on a peculiar space enveloped in a golden radiance at the end of this shattered dimension.
A 'three-person plot' was unfolding in this space.
However, Superman was not side-by-side with Batman.
Instead.
The scene reflected in Ian's pupils was truly unexpected. In the golden space, Clark was working together with a man clad in golden armor.
"Don't move! Bruce! Stop struggling! Just relax a little!" Clark and the armored man were flustered, trying to pin the wildly struggling Bruce Wayne onto a… very ostentatious golden toilet.
***
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