NOVPUBParker sighed.
It was that kind of sigh—deep, bone-heavy, the type that didn't just leak out of your lungs but dragged pieces of your soul with it. He felt the weight now. Not just emotionally, but cosmically. Like his entire damn spine was holding up an invisible planet. He knew this feeling—it was the "you fucked up big-time and now you gotta fix it" type of vibe.
And the worst part? It was earned. Because this? This was on him. He had been the idiot who thought threatening the gods like it was a casual Tuesday flex was a good idea. 𝓃𝓸𝓿𝓹𝓾𝓫.𝓬ℴ𝓶
The same gods who probably cried into their silk robes after being ratioed by a mortal who they found out the start of his background was as large as their entire existence and beyond and went snitching to the first eldritch horror they could find. Now this world—his world—was dangling over a pit of multiversal hellfire because they didn't know how to hold their tiny-ass divine willies in check.
So yeah. His fuck up. His burden. And no one else was gonna carry it.
He nodded slowly.
El caught it and nodded back like that was the answer she'd been waiting for since forever.
She looked at him, all that cosmic power behind her eyes, but her voice—her voice—it softened. Dropped into something old. Familiar. Almost human.
"The only way to save this Prime World," she said, "is to protect its Major Cores. Just like old times."
That last part hit different. Like a memory wrapped in a blade.
She stepped closer, the air around her still twitching like reality itself didn't know how to hold her weight. Her gaze locked on his, and for a second, it wasn't the all-powerful sister or divine avatar talking—it was El, the one who used to throw moons at people who looked at him wrong.
"You can't fight THEY when Earth's on life support," she said, voice low but absolute. "Save the cores. Lock this world down. Make it unbreakable! Then you can take 'em on."
Only then, she meant.
Only then could he stand up and swing at the back of heads of the THEY.
Only then could he bring the fight to THEY—without worrying about the entire planet getting chewed through like cosmic bubblegum.
Then she stepped in, pulled something out of... somewhere—don't ask where, she was basically made of metaphysical cheat codes—and held out a small, colorless pearl. It looked unassuming. Too quiet. Too damn plain. Which meant, of course, it was probably world-breaking.
"Each core's hidden in a major city. Each major city in each major country," she said like she was giving directions to a coffee shop. "That's where the cores are. All you gotta do—"
She pulled out a tiny, colorless pearl, holding it up between her fingers like it was a Tic Tac instead of some metaphysical artifact.
"—is locate the major city... and plant this."
Easy, right?
