章節 139: Chapter 134: Changing History, Changing The Timeline

1 week later,

Later that night,

Twice a week, the Supreme Court justices convened for a private conference, but today was anything but ordinary.

The room, typically marked by an air of superiority and precision, felt charged with unease and almost paranoia.

The justices were all haggard and disheveled, their formal appearances a mess as though summoned on short notice.

Chief Justice Hughes especially, who sat at the head of the table, had his brow furrowed in thought, gnawing absently on his thumb.

"Then, I suppose that you all received a very-.......incriminating document and or folder-" Louis Brandeis tried to force out a chuckle but it came out hollow, fiddling with his fingers only for one of the men to slam their hand down.

BAM

"IT WAS THAT MUTANT, THAT-THAT RICKY LUCIANO!" Devanter bellowed, his voice cracking with fury as his disheveled hair mirrored the chaos of his emotions, while the rage etched across his face barely masked the undercurrent of worry lurking beneath.

As had happened many times before, the justices found themselves divided by the statement.

Each one suddenly possessed a folder stuffed with incriminating documents, evidence so damning it could condemn them all to sentences of twenty years or more.

"But how could such a youngster find these nuggets, it's not like we didn't cover our tracks?" James McReynolds asked, unable to look others in the eye after what his folder said but couldn't help but voice his disbelief.

"It don't matter, he must've used his devil powers to conjure the evidence onto our doorsteps." Sutherland's southern accent rang out, making his stance clear but that only made the others frown.

'Ah, you were on the right track, I'll give you that but as always, you've gone and missed the mark.'

The words suddenly resonated in their minds, surrounding all the justices as if the shadow's on the wall were whispering to each of them.

"N-No, please," Chief Justice Hughes stammered, clutching his head as a shiver ran down his spine.

That voice, it was all too familiar as he silently prayed to God it wasn't who he feared it might be.

'Oh Hughes, still the same as ever.' Elias chuckled, resting his shadowy hands on his shoulders while appearing behind the Chief Supreme Justice.

All the Supreme Court justices froze as Elias's voice slithered directly into their minds, a sinister whisper that rooted them in place.

His eyes hovered unnervingly above Hughes's bowed head, their presence a looming shadow of dread.

"H-Hughes, behind you-"

"P-P-Please Elias, please I beg you." Hughes' voice interrupted Sutherland, crumbling under the pressure of his mere tone.

"Please, I'll do anything but-"

'Oh but I don't want you to do anything but this.' Elias' dark chuckle sounded, forcing goosebumps along each of these old mens skin.

'You are all to reject the appeal and rule in favor of Ricky Luciano-'

"ARE YOU MAD DEVIL!" Sutherland roared, standing up as Hughes shook his head.

"Sutherland, sit down." Hughes looked up with a grave expression, almost pleading to Sutherland.

'Yes Sutherland, listen to your friend.' Elias' eyes formed into crescent moons, watching Sutherland rage flourish across him.

"If you think for a moment that I'll just sit here and let a devil-l-l-l-l-l-" Sutherland's southern accent roared out, making a stand but his deviant words faltered, stuttering into a grotesque loop as if caught on a broken record.

The other justices watched in mounting horror as Sutherland's body began to convulse violently.

Blood seeped from his eyes, the crimson streaks a chilling contrast to his ashen face, before he crumpled to his knees at Elias's feet, a dreadful silence settling over the room.

'For all your achievements,' Elias's voice slithered through the air, cold and measured.

'For all the success you managed to muster in these worthless lives of yours, you still sinned.' Elias circled Sutherland, the justices now trapped in his unyielding presence, his steps deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey.

'Yet, for everything you are," Elias continued, his eyes glinting with malice.

'There are parts of you that you've tucked away, buried deep beneath all that shining success.' Elias's voice grew lower, each word a knife twisting in the air as he made his way around them, the justices now prisoners of his every move.

'Parts that can't be seen by the light, that must always remain in the shadows.' Elias murmured calmly, his tone low and deliberate as he moved with a quiet, unhurried grace, pausing once he stood behind Hughes.

'It's unfortunate, truly.' Elias' voice remained composed, almost detached.

'Because for every figure, there is an equal, stretching shadow. And I have lingered in each and every one.' Elias' words were a soft, chilling confession, each syllable carrying the weight of unspoken horrors.

'Whenever you looked around, thinking you were alone, I was always the shadow on the wall. And when you thought you'd escaped, I was there, watching your departure as the distance grew between us.' Elias chuckled, knowing each and every one of these mens deepest secrets.

"Elias, please, this will end some of our careers-"

'Then it's only fitting, I was the one to build you up so it's only right that I should be the one to tear you down.' Elias side-eyed Hughes, watching him duck his head at his gaze.

'If the decision isn't made today, and isn't announced tomorrow, then all of your secrets will leave those shadows of yours and everyone will see who all of you really are.' Elias' slow hum sounded, his figure departing towards the door before he suddenly stopped as they all watched him leave.'

'But you could be heroes.' Elias said, his voice almost gentle, like a flicker of hope in the darkness.

'Try to confess before it's too late, and perhaps save yourselves from the decision you believe to be wrong.' Elias paused, turning away from them, his words lingering in the air.

'But that was if you hadn't killed, stabbed, lied, and sullied your morals for the seat you now occupy.' Elias left them with those final, haunting words.

He offered them a chance at redemption, to go against him, but what difference could it make after everything they had done to get here?

"Chief Justice, what do we do?" Justice Pierce Butler asked, his voice tight with uncertainty.

Hughes took a long, steadying breath, his fingers gripping the edge of the table as he adjusted himself, the weight of the moment pressing down on him before giving into it all.

"We keep the seats we occupy now and vote in favor for Ricky Luciano."

Next Day,

"If you're just tuning in, let me break down the latest story that's taken hold of the American mind," a radio host blared from the car's speakers, eager to catch any potential listener.

"What began as a simple civil case has now spiraled into a growing sensation, with the Supreme Court justices set to make an announcement today." The radio host continued, his words over the top and exaggerated to keep listeners hooked onto every word.

"Ricky Luciano, an honorary bishop of the Vatican and a native of New York, has claimed he was subjected to an unfair search and seizure at the border." The radio host continued.

"The District Attorney, Tommy Dewey, responded by saying that his actions were taken in the interest of national security, arguing that Luciano's mutant abilities posed a significant threat."

"At first, this case seemed destined to be swept under the rug. But then, the defense attorney, a Black boy named Thomas Marshall, argued that Luciano's search was unlawful, citing his status as a mutant as the sole basis for the treatment."

"The argument was swiftly dismissed by Hawkins, who insisted that Ricky Luciano himself posed a clear danger to the American people, and that Dewey had every right to conduct the search."

"The case took an unexpected turn with the shocking revelation that Dewey and Hawkins had mistakenly set fire to a club meeting instead of Ricky Luciano's residence," the host continued.

"Now convicted and awaiting trial, Dewey went on record blaming Luciano, but in a twist, Hawkins confessed to the crime before taking his own life."

"The jury, finding Luciano to be the victim of Dewey's cruelty, awarded him a staggering $25 million. But just as the case seemed settled, the Supreme Court accepted an appeal, ensuring that this saga is far from over."

"However, just a week before today's ruling, Ricky Luciano made a bold proclamation. He revealed that he had dreams of serving in our great nation's military, wanting to contribute like any other American and protect our lands. But, he expressed disheartenment at the idea that, because he was born a mutant, he might never get that chance."

"He even went as far as to say that if he won any money from this case, it would go directly to a foundation dedicated to helping mutants better integrate into the American way of life."

"Now, listeners, we have multiple callers on the line eager to share their thoughts on the growing precedent this case is setting." The radio host then gave the listeners a treat, aligning some callers waiting on multiple telephone lines.

"Caller from Mississippi, you have the floor."

"Thanks, Jim, big fan of the show!" the caller from Mississippi exclaimed excitedly, barely able to believe he was actually on his favorite radio program.

"Now, I just don't get why this boy has to go and tarnish the way of life. I mean, that Dewey feller, although a murderer, saw a threat and tried to do right by his country!" The caller from Mississippi showed his outrage, taking Dewey's side since he seemed like an upright figure compared to Ricky Luciano.

"Thank you caller, next caller from all the way in Oregon."

"Hello Jim, thank you so so much for having me on and all I like to say is that I really feel for this poor boy," the caller from Oregon expressed their guilt, immediately taking the side of Ricky.

"That harsh man had no right to do all of that to that young man and what's more, he wanted to serve our country." The Oregon caller sighed heavily, thinking it was noble for Ricky to want to serve his beloved country.

"Not many people want to do that, and I think it's a selfless thing to even donate all that money to others like him." The Oregon caller showed his stance, feeling nothing but empathy for Ricky and his cause.

"Thank you caller, next from Georgia."

"Honestly Jim, I don't see what the big fuss is and why it's all I'm reading about," the caller from Georgia scoffed, clearly annoyed that it had taken up so much of the front page of his morning newspaper recently.

"It's cut and dry, and this much money is absurd. That should be used to fund actual programs instead of giving it away." The caller from Georgia sneered at it all, thinking this entire trial was a pointless endeavor.

"Next caller, Arkansas."

"They had no right to search him, that Ricky Luciano is an american and he shouldn't have been treated any less, and what's more is that he's a man of god, what more can you ask?" The caller from Arkansas couldn't help but be shocked, showing his disbelief and taking the side of the lord.

"Next caller, New York."

"That cop went too far ya hear me, Ricky Luciano ain't just a mutant but a good italian man. People don't know crap about what he did for the neighborhoods and what's more, when he left, he left for god, FOR JESUS CHRIST, ain't nuttin you can tell me that takes away from how much I respect Ricky Luciano." The caller from New York almost yelled into the phone, expressing his side clearly.

"Next caller, Ohio."

"You see, Jim, mutants are a small bunch now, but what happens when we get thousands of them crawling the streets, waving their hands and using these devil powers of theirs to just make things that shouldn't happen appear? If you ask me, we should have laws in place for people like them." The caller from Ohio grew more heated with every passing word.

"Next caller, Louisiana."

"I honestly don't care, I want to hear about how the Yankees lost."

"Next caller Virginia."

"It just needs to end, I'm tired and I don't get why this is all I'm reading about."

The words poured out of the radio, each one cutting through the air as Ricky Luciano sat in the car, his eyes fixed on the imposing façade of the Supreme Court.

"Do you think it was wise to not take this into your own hands?" Chester asked, his voice laced with a hint of mockery as Ricky frowned upon hearing it out loud instead of in his head.

"No, in fact, it seems pretty stupid from an outside perspective to just trust some guy I barely met." Ricky's words were completely self-deprecating, clicking his tongue at his own actions.

"Then why did you do it?" Chester asked, his tone probing. Ricky paused for a moment, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"Cause I can't do everything myself, I can't just use that genhutsua of yours and just will everyone my way, at least it would take too long." Ricky leaned back, mispronouncing genjutsu while crossing his leg as he looked at Chester who was silent.

"The guys I have around me aren't good with stuff like this, aren't able to go behind the scenes and pull strings without cutting one or two," Ricky sighed, brooding over the events ahead.

"I need people around me that can do stuff like that, and although I don't trust that guy as far as I can throw him, it's impressive what he's built without anyone even knowing." Ricky admitted, taken aback by how functional the sanctuary was and how well hidden it remained.

"And although I don't really know the Hellfire Club, I know that Selene is a part of it," Ricky sighed, annoyance creeping into his voice as he thought about the forces hiding and observing him from the shadows.

"Selene?"

"Evidently, she's this busty chick that castrates guys," Ricky clarified, as all of his familiars shivered at the thought.

"So, what are you going to do, other than constantly yapper on?" Garfield sighed from the backseat, scratching his belly.

"Well I had a couple of ideas, one of them putting you on a diet." Ricky casually retorted, reclining his seat back

"Diet?!" Garfield shot to his little stubby feat, exasperated at the actual thought but Ricky ignored him.

"The second is to see how this plays out and if he comes through," Ricky said, tapping on the car as he stared at the rearview mirror, his gaze fixed on the courthouse ahead.

"What if you lose, what if-"

"If I lose, then I'll work around the government, but let's worry about it if that even happens." Ricky paused, glancing over at Chester as Marshall slowly walked out and gestured for Ricky to come in.

"Good luck," Garfield hissed out, throwing a cheese puff into his mouth as Ricky leaned back to flick his forehead before getting out of the car.

"Luck is for chumps." Ricky stated with a cheeky smile, stepping out of the car and leaving the three of them behind.

"Why does he always say that?" Garfield asked, licking his fingers as Chester shot him a disgusted look.

Garfield didn't seem to care, continuing to rub his paws on the leather while being too lazy to just go back and actually read the story.

"It's a long story-"

"Then out with it already, it's not like we have anything better to do while we're here," Garfield lazily replied, lounging and turning onto his back as his tail flicked to the side as he settled in, clearly not wanting to read but preferring to just listen.

"Do you want to-" Alexander asked, side-eyed the fat cat before Chester immediately nodded.

"Yes," Chester replied, crouching down as Alexander hopped onto his back and with a powerful leap, they took off into the air, leaving Garfield behind, still munching on cheese puffs.

"And then there was one."

Meanwhile in the courthouse,

Ricky walked in, dressed in his fine Italian suit, with Marshall by his side as they arrived at their seats.

"Nervous?" Ricky leaned over and asked, clearly noticing Marshall fidgeting in his chair.

"Is it obvious?" Marshall replied, his voice betraying his unease as Ricky chuckled, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a flask that once belonged to Abraham.

"Here, loosen the edge-woah there big guy." Ricky was about to recommend only for Marshall to swipe his flask from his hand.

Cough

"Ease off the throttle there, here." Ricky said, handing the flask to Marshall and giving him a reassuring pat on the back as Marshall leaned back, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

It was then that Dewey walked in, his hands cuffed, flanked by a district attorney whose unimpressed gaze locked onto Ricky.

"Is that the sound of justice I hear? It must be, if it's the sound of your handcuffs clinking together." Ricky leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with a certain satisfaction as he watched Dewey, whose tired eyes told a story of his own misery.

But instead of responding, Dewey simply took a seat, his silence more telling than any words could be.

"You're kidding. No quip about how I'm some evil, sadistic man?" Ricky's voice dripped with disbelief as he leaned forward, seeing the man before him so utterly broken, stripped of any bravado, and simply hollow.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Ricky couldn't help himself, his laughter spilling out uncontrollably as he reveled in his own amusement.

But Dewey, sitting across from him, barely seemed to notice as his usual resolve was gone, replaced by a hollow emptiness as he stared into the distance, his once unshakeable conviction now reduced to nothing more than a vacant expression.

FLASHBACK

"Honey, is that you?" Dewey muttered, standing up and pressing his hand against the cold glass.

He had been transferred to a detention center after the security risk posed by Ricky Luciano, and now, the isolation seemed to gnaw at him.

Before Dewey, a smile spread across his face as he saw Frances, but it quickly faded when he noticed her downcast expression.

She didn't offer a greeting, just silently walked over to the chair and sat down, her posture stiff and distant, as if unsure of how to bridge the gap between them.

"Oh, thank God you're here," Dewey muttered, his words coming out in a broken, erratic pattern.

Everything about him seemed so different from the man she had once married, his voice shakier, his posture hunched, and his entire demeanor in stark contrast to the confident figure he had always claimed to be.

"Listen to me, Ricky Luciano-"

Sniff

Frances couldn't even bring herself to look at him anymore as her body trembled, tears welling in her eyes as she stared down at her ring.

Slowly, she began to take it off, each movement making Dewey freeze in place, his breath catching in his throat.

"N-No, wait Frances, you're the last person I can hold onto to and-"

"Tommy, I-I'm leaving you." Frances said softly, her voice laced with guilt as she finally looked up.

Dewey's entire body trembled, his eyes wide as his face drained of color, the weight of her words sinking in.

"W-Wha-"

"What are you talking about, Frances? What do you mean!" Dewey stood up abruptly, his eyes wild with a mix of anger and fear, his hand pressing against the glass.

"I've found someone else, someone who cares about me and my passions, someone who treats me like more than just a housewife." Frances clutched the ends of her skirt, the guilt weighing heavily on her, but there was no turning back now and despite the pain, she knew this was the right thing to do for herself.

"I'm sorry," Frances whispered, her voice barely audible as she lowered her head slightly, her heart aching as she stood up.

Turning her back to Dewey, she could feel the weight of his heartbroken gaze on her as his face, once so familiar, now reflected nothing but pain and disbelief.

"Frances you can't leave me, you're all that I have left, FRANCES!"

FLASHBACK END

"Wow, it's almost like you're crumbling before me." Ricky's words lingered in the air, cutting through the silence as Dewey's mind raced.

Dewey suddenly glanced up, seeing the wide grin on Ricky's face, a smile that reveled in the despair Dewey had found himself drowning in.

"I almost want to PAINT your expression right now." Ricky emphasized one particular word, making Dewey's breath hitch as he stood up only for the supreme court justices to file in.

"ALL RISE, THE SUPREME COURT IS RECONVENING!" The bailiff called out, his voice echoing through the courtroom.

Ricky stood up, his posture sharp, and turned towards the justices, a calm yet expectant look in his eyes.

Hughes was the last to enter, clearly rattled as his gaze met his gaze only for Ricky to offer him a warm smile, one that sent a chill creeping down Hughes' spine.

All the justices wore similar expressions, their faces a mix of weariness and contemplation. Elias had pulled every card he'd accumulated over the years to prove Ricky's value, and his gamble had paid off in a spectacular way.

Hughes surveyed the crowd that had gathered, each individual waiting with bated breath for the decision that would alter the course of precedent for the next two decades.

"We, the Supreme Court, have reached a decision in the case of Luciano v. Dewey," Hughes announced, his voice steady but weighed down by the gravity of the moment as he slowly pulled the paper from his folder, the very same one that held the decision to everything Ricky had invested his time into as of late.

The other justices, unable to raise their heads, cast their eyes downward in shame, unable to look the people before them in the eyes.

"We have found that Ricky Luciano, a mutant, had his natural rights as an American citizen violated," Hughes declared, his voice steady but heavy with the weight of his words as he closed his eyes for a brief moment, fully aware that this decision would forever define his tenure on the Supreme Court.

The courtroom fell into stunned silence, every person present gasping as the implications of the ruling sank in.

Raven's breath caught in her throat, the words of the ruling striking her like a bolt of lightning.

She stood slowly, unable to fully process what she was witnessing as this was a moment she had never anticipated, one that didn't even make it into Destiny's book.

She believed in Ricky but seeing is easier than hearing about it as her eyes shifted to him, whose arrogant smile seemed to stretch wider with the weight of the victory.

"In light of this revelation, the Supreme Court has decided to award only 20 million of the original 25 million, with the funds being donated to Ricky Luciano's new foundation at his own request. That is all." Hughes concluded, his voice steady as he delivered the final word with the room falling into stunned silence, the weight of the decision settling over everyone like a heavy cloud.

As Hughes stood, the first domino of consequences began to fall, and the future seemed uncertain for all involved as the timeline completely distorted at this moment.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN!"

"ARE YOU SERIOUS!"

"THIS IS SURREAL!"

"GODDAMNIT, MY BOOKIES GONNA HAVE MY BALLS!"

The atmosphere in the courthouse shifted abruptly as those who were meant to remain respectful broke into a roar of disbelief.

Gasps and murmurs filled the air, the shock of the ruling spreading like wildfire as even the government officials, who had long anticipated Ricky Luciano's downfall, were stunned.

This wasn't supposed to be a moment of public execution, this was supposed to be the day Ricky's name was buried in disgrace.

Yet, instead of falling from grace, he had risen, his fate now forever intertwined with history, and the power of the ruling echoing far beyond the courthouse walls.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Marshall started tumbling out a barrage of laughter, hugging Ricky as he started to tear up.

"WE REALLY DID IT, WE DID IT!" Marshall yelled out, jumping up and down as Ricky merely looked at Dewey.

In that moment, Ricky's promise had materialized in full force, and Dewey, once confident and brimming with authority, now crumbled under the weight of his downfall.

His body trembled as he was escorted out, the jeers of the mob growing louder with each step.

The very people who had once upheld his image now looked upon him with disdain, eager to tear him down as they had once built him up as Dewey was left with nothing, not even his own pride.

Amidst the chaos, Ricky stood at the center, a figure of both admiration and contempt, completely unfazed by the frenzy surrounding him.

The media swarmed, microphones thrust forward, cameras clicking rapidly, lightbulbs shattering, and all eager to capture a moment that would go down in history.

But Ricky walked past them all with a calm composure, his gaze never faltering as he surveyed the crowd.

However, with everything swarming around him, his smile remained, knowing full well that today, the world had witnessed the rise of Ricky Luciano, not just a man, but an empire in the making.

BAM

"MR. LUCIANO, WHAT DOES THIS VICTORY MEAN FOR YOU!"

"DID YOU AT ALL EXPECT THIS!"

"WHAT DOES THIS MEAN NOT AS RICKY LUCIANO, BUT AS A MUTANT!"

The questions erupted the moment Ricky threw open the doors of the courthouse, flashes from cameras spiraling in every direction, all eyes fixed on him at the center of it all.

There was no hesitation, no retreat, only Ricky standing tall, arms spread wide, basking in the sweet, intoxicating taste of unbridled victory.

Ricky wasn't the type of guy who was naturally great at planning, and he was still figuring out what it truly meant to lead.

But this victory? This felt different.

It was sweet in a way that only those who've worked tirelessly for something can understand.

Ricky had planned it all out, spoken confidently about his win, made every necessary arrangement, and then, when it mattered most, he won.

Raven stood to the side, a warm smile spreading across her face as she watched him.

She stood amidst the crowd, letting Ricky have his moment to relish in his victory, feeling a quiet sense of pride.

And then, as if drawn to her, his eyes found hers, and the connection between them was undeniable.

"No-"

"YES!" Ricky laughed, his voice full of triumph as he pushed through the crowd.

His eyes instantly locked onto Raven, recognizing her in disguise without a second thought and in one swift motion, he yanked her out of the crowd, a grin plastered on his face.

"R-Ricky, what are you doing!?" Raven hurriedly asked, anxious as she now stood amidst the barrage of camera flashes.

"Don't tell me you thought for a second that I wasn't going to blow this entire thing out of proportion?" Ricky whispered gently into Raven's ear, his voice laced with playful mischief as he pulled her closer, forcing her to stand by his side amidst it all.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this beautiful and captivating woman is none other than Raven Darkholme, and she will be heading the foundation that I'm creating!" Ricky announced, his voice carrying across the area as he gestured toward her with a sweeping motion.

His smile widened as every pair of eyes in the crowd shifted to focus on her, the area buzzing with excitement at the unexpected reveal.

Ricky wanted to chain her by his side, but that meant more than just capturing her heart, it required the recognition of the people, the kind of support that would bind them in a way nothing else could.

This, Ricky knew, was the exact moment he'd been waiting for.

As the weight of the choice settled over Raven, she turned back toward him, her eyes locking with his, the green of his gaze steady and intense as he could see the conflict in her, the hesitation before she made her decision.

Sigh

With that soft exhale, Raven made her choice.

Raven stood taller in that moment, the air around her shifting with her white and blonde hair rippling in the wind, transitioning into a cascade of vibrant blue skin and fiery orange hair.

It was then that she revealed her true self to the world, standing proudly next to Ricky.

GASP

"A mutant!"

"Thanks, Captain Obvious!" Ricky called back to him, resting his hand on Raven's shoulder and giving it a gentle rub.

"Go on, tell me how much you adore and love me," Ricky whispered in her ear, earning a scoff from her, though she couldn't help but smile.

"I know none of you know me, and that's fine, but I can assure all the mutants out there that I will pour everything I have into making this world just a little bit better for mutant kind. Thank you!" Raven announced, her voice strong and commanding as she then grabbed Ricky, pulling him towards the car, her grip firm as the crowd watched them leave.

"Wow, so powerful~" Ricky placed a hand over his heart, feigning being taken aback by her words, yet his face was adorned with a sleazy smile, clearly enjoying the attention.

"WAIT, MR. LUCIANO-"

"IS THAT MY LAWYER WHO MADE THIS ENTIRE WIN POSSIBLE, THURGOOD MARSHALL!" Ricky's voice boomed across the crowd, dramatically pointing his finger towards Marshall as he walked out of the courthouse, essentially throwing him under the bus.

"Huh?" Marshall blurted, caught off guard as the reporters all turned their attention to him, then back to Ricky, who had already closed the door and was casually holding out his thumb in a mock salute.

"You did great, buddy!" Ricky yelled, slamming the door behind him as the car sped off.

Everyone froze as the hungry reporters slowly shifted their focus, zeroing in on Marshall, their cameras and microphones ready to pounce.

"W-Wait, WAIT!"

Meanwhile, in the speeding car, Asterion hummed a tune, tapping the steering wheel in rhythm.

Over the past few weeks, he'd grown to quite love driving, the motion of the road under his wheels offering a strange sense of freedom.

His fingers drummed along to the beat, a subtle but steady flow of contentment filling the air as the car sliced through the streets.

"Ow~" Ricky playfully said as Raven smacked him repeatedly, his laughter echoing through the car.

"Y-You're a jerk, you set me up!" Raven blushed, her face flushed with a mix of frustration and embarrassment as she knew he was playing with her emotions and desires like a fiddle.

But despite her frustration, there was an undeniable pull, a part of her that couldn't entirely resist him, and that realization only made her more vexed, along with annoyed

"I know, I know, I'm just the worst," Ricky said, resting his head on her shoulder and pulling her closer, making Raven scoff, trying to push him off, but the closeness felt too familiar, too comfortable.

"But I'm your worst-"

"Alright, stop with the cheesy lines," Raven said, pushing his face away as she struggled to hold back a laugh as Ricky, unfazed, kissed her palm.

"Seriously, did you really believe that I would hang you out to dry after all those sweet words." Ricky asked, showing his smile in full view while placing her hand on his chin.

"Sweet words can be hollow-"

"Not mine and god did I fill them-"

"RICKY!" Raven blushed, smacking him playfully as he leaned forward, grinning mischievously before she fell back, looking up at him hovering above her being.

Her orange hair cascaded around her blushing face as Ricky's hands gently caressed her cheek, a warm and genuine smile spreading across his face.

"I'm sorry." Ricky's voice softened, his words carrying sincerity.

Raven pursed her lips, a mix of frustration and understanding in her expression, before she let out a small sigh.

"I forgive you." Raven murmured, her voice soft as Ricky leaned down, pressing a warm kiss to her lips as she instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

"Uh Ricky, what should I do?" Asterion asked from the front seat, Ricky turning his eyes only for his head to jerk up.

There in front of him were numerous black cars blocking his path, but Ricky simply cracked a smile before leaning over and pecking Raven on the cheek.

"Take Raven back, I'll meet you guys there." Ricky patted Asterion's shoulder, then opened the door while Raven glanced back, adjusting one of the laces on her dress as she watched him step out.

"Ricky, who is that?" Raven asked, her gaze shifting toward the figure without permission as Ricky adjusted his tie.

"The puppet master." Ricky chuckled, leaving his words vague and cryptic as he closed the door behind him and walked forward.

The car at the center had its back window rolled down, and Ricky peered inside, locking eyes with the very man who had orchestrated everything that had led him to this moment.

"Mr. President, if it isn't my honor to meet the man behind it all," Ricky chuckled, leaning through the window to face Franklin, who merely gave him a cold, fleeting glance.

"Get in."

Author's Note: Saw your comments, I saw your pictures, there good but I'm lazy so I'll make my decision tommorrow because i just found out I can't even put any cover until Saturday because of a restriction placed on my 'inappropriate' image of a story that litearlly depicts raw skin on skin slapping.

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章節 140: Chapter 135: Mr. President

"Holy sh*t, your whiskey's way better than my pop's," Ricky exclaimed, recoiling slightly from the burn of the drink.

Ricky inspected the bottle for a moment before shamelessly swiping it right under the president's nose as they drove in slow, deliberate circles around the block.

Franklin D. Roosevelt wasn't just any figure, not just any politician, and certainly not just any president.

He was a steadfast andF resolute leader, fully aware that the upcoming years would define America forever.

This awareness drove his relentless involvement in every sphere imaginable, understanding that the nation needed firm guidance.

To put it simply, he was a control freak, determined to steer the country in the right direction, his direction.

But to reach that point, to wield such immense power, it was nearly impossible for anyone, let alone someone like him, to loosen their grip on the reins which was why his gaze had turned to the man before him.

In stark contrast, Ricky exuded a carefree demeanor, living fully in the moment and planning only as far ahead as the next month.

Franklin didn't respect him for that, not in the slightest and yet, he could no longer dismiss him, either as Ricky had proven that he could play at Franklin's level, and win.

"You're such a crude, vulgar person," Franklin said bluntly, his tone laced with unfiltered disdain as he made no effort to conceal his animosity, laying his thoughts bare from the start.

"Coming here-"

"And what? Wiping my ass with your goodwill?" Ricky interrupted with a crude laugh, his words dripping with such a vulgar spite.

"Walking into your house, your domain, with my shoes off and planting my crusty toes everywhere, kicking them up and wiggling them around," Ricky said with a sly grin, leaning in closer as Franklin's expression grew stern, sensing that Ricky's words were building toward something far more pointed.

"It doesn't feel so good when someone comes into your house and fcks up your sht, doesn't it?" Ricky asked, a wide grin spreading across his face before Franklin's expression darkened as he slowly nodded, the meaning behind Ricky's words sinking in.

"Listen Teddy-"

"Wrong Roosevelt-"

"Whatever, listen." Ricky interrupted the president, shaking his hand at him before leaning back with his whisky in hand.

"You know that deep, aching pit of hatred you probably have for me after everything I did." Ricky gestured to him, pointing glass towards him before raising it up to take a sip.

"I want you to remember that feeling, this feeling, and hold onto it the next time you come to my house and try to f*ck up my sh*t like you were doing," Ricky said with a laugh, his tone dripping with mockery as he watched as the president's face grew even darker, the weight of the thinly veiled threat sinking in.

"I'm not the type of person to let things go," Ricky said, his voice low and deliberate, placing the glass to the side as the ice cubs swirled.

"I'm the type of person who blows it out of proportion, and I'll go above and beyond to drag you down to my level." Ricky's words caused Franklin's mind to flash to Dewey, the prosecutor whose fall from grace had been so sharp and unforgiving.

He remembered how Dewey had once been a good-hearted man, only to become something darker, something unrecognizable.

"Because if I'm gonna lose, gonna suffer, then you can bet your ass that you're gonna suffer with me," Ricky finished, his eyes locking with Franklin's as he made it clear that if he went down, he wouldn't go alone.

He'd burn everything down if he had to, and he would never let Franklin walk away, unscathed, into the sunset, while Ricky would be the one to pay the price.

"What is this all really about, Ricky?" Franklin calmly asked Ricky, gaining the young man's attention as he set down his drink.

"I think we both know you don't care about America, mutants, or anything that isn't your family," Franklin said, his tone smooth as he watched Ricky trace his finger along the glass.

Ricky's smile brightened, knowing that he hit the nail on the head as the words made the conversation flow much more easily, revealing the truth behind Ricky's motivations and skipping past all the bullsh*t.

"Because I'm not going away, Mr. President, I'm just getting started." Ricky said, his gaze unwavering as he met Franklin's eyes as his words were sharp, making it clear that this was only the beginning.

"I'm gonna become a powerful man, and I think it's time you get on board, rather than constantly trying to block my way," Ricky said, sighing as he leaned back while Franklin's face remained unreadable.

"Oh, don't give me that look," Ricky continued, his voice dripping with a sleazy confidence.

"You can't honestly believe I don't know you're behind Joe, pulling the little strings like some sort of puppet master." Ricky dangled his fingertips in front of the president, a clear gesture showing that he had known for quite some time.

"Just like you, I know what's going on in my city, and much like you, I don't like the stink wafting in," Ricky joked, gesturing toward Franklin, pretending to wave his hand over to him as if cutting the cheese.

"Then I'm sure you're well aware that I'm faced with the question of why you went in front of the American people and told them that you not only wanted to be a pillar of mutantkind, start a foundation, and join my army," Franklin said, his gaze steady and piercing but no matter how intense it was, the weight of his words simply bounced off Ricky.

"Can I be honest with you, Franky?" Ricky leaned back, his tone casual but laced with defiance, clearly stepping over the line of respect as if testing the waters.

"Please." Franklin's eyebrow twitched as he took a deep breath, gesturing toward Ricky, giving him permission to speak freely.

"Because a war is coming."

"A war that both you and I know will suck you in, no matter how hard you try to keep your feet out of its murky waters." Ricky's words hung in the air, leaving Franklin completely silent, as if he recognized the truth in them, or at least found them convincing.

"Has the Vatican informed you of the severity in Europe?" Franklin asked, his gaze fixed on the tinted windows, as though he were asking without truly expecting an answer and Ricky, on the other hand, spread his arms out, as if to demonstrate his own understanding of the situation.

"I am the Black Knight, after all," Ricky said, his words hanging in the air without a direct confirmation, yet acknowledging that they both knew there was some truth to it.

Immediately, Franklin's gaze snapped to Ricky as the FBI had gathered extensive intel on the Black Knight and the immense power he wielded.

More importantly, there was the undeniable fact that Ricky was the one responsible for slaying Dracula, an act that had marked him not only as a threat, but as a worldwide one.

"What do you want?" Franklin seemingly asked without not entirely agreeing.

"I want to be an officer in the military, and I want to earn that position not through four years of boarding school, but through quick and direct commander training," Ricky said, pointing at Franklin as the president remained silent as Ricky continued, undeterred by the lack of response.

"Before you say anything, really take into account that by putting myself in the military, I'm almost on your side in a way that you'll really want me as a friend," Ricky said, his eyes dark, showing that he wasn't about to relent.

In all honesty, it might seem like a bad idea to let Ricky into the military, but for Franklin, it was almost beneficial.

From his observations, people like Ricky were impossible to control; spontaneous individuals acted on impulse, and impulses could shift in an instant.

But once he entered the military, it would be just a little easier to manage.

The entire military was under Franklin's control, and he'd much rather keep Ricky under his watchful eyes than let him loose, gallivanting across Europe on some crusade.

Franklin remained quiet for a long time, pondering the reality of the situation, before resigning himself to the idea of having Ricky within his reach, rather than allowing him to slip away.

"Why should I not only let you into my academy, my army, my government, and my United States?" Franklin asked, his tone calculating, as he leaned forward, eager to hear Ricky's answer while the latter merely smiled in response, unfazed by the question.

"Because let's be real, you need me," Ricky laughed, pointing to himself with a smirk as Franklin raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, but remained silent, waiting for Ricky to elaborate.

In all honesty, Franklin didn't need Ricky, but no one ever truly needs anything.

It's the illusion that's given to you, the fear that haunts you, that makes you compelled to go the extra mile.

That's why Ricky, with Shadow Broker slowly appearing by his side, who had always been lurking in the background, waiting for the right moment, finally made his move.

"This war, what you're about to go up against, the powers that lie beneath, is something you could never imagine." Ricky first appealed to that fear, sinking his words deep into it, embedding the train of thought into its murky waters, knowing it would fester there.

"The people, the beings, pulling the strings of the Reich are something you've only scratched the surface of." Ricky then started to engrain a sense of belief, subtly guiding the narrative in a direction that would make Franklin question everything he thought he knew.

"For those people and the strengths you can't even fathom, you'll need someone like me, someone who can go toe to toe on those front lines. But most of all, you're going to need my power." Ricky finally revealed his hand, positioning himself as essential, inflating his value beyond what it truly was, making it clear he believed his presence was the key to Franklin's success.

"We both know you're gonna just stall, until you're sure you have a chance, but let's be real, I bet that think tank of a government is trying to find any way they can to rival whatever Germany has." Ricky smirked, knowing that his words hit closer to the truth than Franklin would like to admit.

"If you're going to need as much firepower as you can get, why not accept mutants? Why not roll the dice on me?" Ricky's tone was laced with a challenge, his eyes locking onto Franklin's as if daring him to refuse.

Franklin's silence spoke volumes, his mind clearly turning over the implications of what Ricky had just said.

He was well aware of the Nazi powers looming in the shadows of Hitler, the unseen hands that had their fingers in the Reich's operation.

He knew, in a way, that Ricky was right, mutants could be the edge he needed, a resource too powerful to ignore.

But what's worse, if a war broke out, could Franklin afford to not keep an eye on Ricky?

"Fine," Franklin said, his voice steady but firm, knowing this wasn't the first or last time he'd made a deal with a devil.

"You will be admitted into the officer program when you submit an application, after you get a high school diploma that is." Franklin spoke of the bare minimum, his words making Ricky's eyebrow twitch.

"So, I guess you can say we're partners now," Ricky laughed, nudging the president lightly as Franklin scowled, clearly unamused by the casual tone, but there was no denying the weight of the agreement hanging in the air.

"Now that you had one of my men locked up and the key thrown away, I guess I'll have to use what I can," Franklin said, his gaze steady, resolute almost before getting to the main point.

"But there is one more thing." Franklin looked at Ricky, who was already waiting for this moment, knowing something else was coming.

"What are you going to do about the scene in New York?"

"I'm sure you're clever enough to know that all the families are on edge and teetering on the brink of a full-on war with one another, what is it you really want, Ricky Luciano." Franklin asked, leaning in towards Ricky who smiled warmly, as if already knowing where this conversation was headed.

"Isn't it obvious? I want you and the government to turn a blind eye to me completely eviscerating the families, as a gesture of goodwill," Ricky laughed, his words bloodthirsty as Franklin had a deadpan expression.

"In return, the family will look not only favorable towards you, but your next campaign." Ricky offered, Franklin pondering once more before looking out the window.

"If you think I am ignorant to the deal Lucky has with the High Table, then don't count me as a fool yet, but either way, I have no choice but to accept," Franklin said, his words leaving Ricky shocked as he raised an eyebrow.

"What deal?" Ricky suddenly asked, unable to hold himself back as Franklin side-eyed him with a raised eyebrow.

"He never told you?" Franklin grinned slightly, showing some surprise while waving his hand in the air along with his next words.

"Well, I guess that should be resolved between Father and Son."

"Now, please get out of my car." Franklin had the car stopped, gesturing towards the door as Ricky looked a little annoyed.

"I'm taking the whiskey and this really nice glass, 'cause I like the way the ice clinks into it." Ricky noted to Franklin before shutting the door behind him, leaving the president staring straight ahead.

Sigh

"I actually really liked that glass."

Walking back to the crummy motel, the one without any reporters lingering around, Ricky spotted Jake sitting at a table, a cigarette dangling from his fingers as he flipped through a law book.

Clink

Ricky sat the whiskey down in front of Jake, the bottle clinking softly against the table as Jake flinched, his eyes flickering from the glass to Ricky's face, not even noticing that he had walked in before the interruption.

"Whatcha ya got there?" Ricky asked, sipping the whiskey lightly as Jake let out a sheepish laugh.

"It's nothing, it f*cking stupid-"

"Law 101, huh?" Ricky tilted the book upward, raising an eyebrow as Jake rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"I know pulling my life together and I do want to be part of the family, but after seeing Marshall I just kinda got-"

"Hey, listen, Jake." Ricky held up his hand, stopping his friend as he looked toward him, a serious expression crossing his face.

"Whatever you do, be it in or outside the family, I'm gonna support you."

"Not as someone from the Luciano family, but as a friend." Ricky said, his tone low and earnest as he leaned in, locking eyes with Jake.

"For once Jake dont' think about me, your brother, or the family." Ricky shrugged, tipping the glass to him before downing the rest.

"Be selfish, think about yourself, and when you're ready to talk about the future, you come find me. The door's always open," Ricky said, standing up and preparing to leave.

Jake, slowly lowering his head while watching as Ricky walked away, the weight of the words settling in.

"Thanks, Slick." Jake bit his lip, his eyes watering, the words barely escaping his throat. Ricky paused on the stairs, turning just enough to glance back at him.

Sniff

"Thanks for not just throwing me away," Jake said, wiping his eyes, his voice thick with emotion. He knew how much of a burden he'd been.

Ricky paused at the bottom of the stairs, then turned back toward him, raising the bottle with a smirk.

"What are friends for?"

Three hours later,

"Do you have any fours?"

"OH COME ON!" Ricky slammed down his cards, frustration evident in his voice. The rest of the group let out an exasperated sigh, clearly used to his outbursts.

Asterion, ever so slightly, took the four from Chester, who was looking at his hand in disbelief.

They were all huddled around the table: Ricky, Asterion, Chester, Alexander, Marshall, Jake, and even Garfield.

It was a cutthroat game of Go-Fish, but instead of money, they were betting peanuts.

Still, the stakes were high, pride was on the line, and nobody wanted to lose, especially to Asterion.

Asterion, for reasons no one could explain, was absolutely lethal at this game as it was as if he had some sixth sense, knowing exactly which cards everyone had, even without seeing them.

His calm and cheerful demeanor only added to the mystery, making him all the more infuriating to play against.

"I'll never win at this game, never," Alexander groaned, dropping to his knees in dramatic defeat. Chester, ever the sympathetic soul, patted him on the back with a chuckle.

"True-" Garfield rubbed salt in the wound as Chester flashed him a stink eye.

"IS WHAT ALL THOSE WHO RALLIED AGAINST MY DEFEAT WANT ME TO SAY FOR I, ALEXANDER THE GREAT, WILL NEVER YIELD IN THE FACE OF DEFEAT, NEVER!" Alexander roared out, declaring his will to the heavens with a gerbil cry of defiance.

"Alright, count me out for this game," Ricky muttered, standing up as he watched with slight envy as Asterion casually pulled the pile of peanuts closer to him, a gentle smile spreading across his face at the delight of playing with friends.

Walking out of the room and towards the terrace, Ricky was struck by the scene before him, one that painters would dream of when seeking their muse.

Raven stood bathed in moonlight, her gaze lost in the distant scenery, her silhouette glowing softly against the night sky.

Ricky moved silently behind her, his hands slipping around her waist, pulling her closer as the night air seemed to hum with the quiet intimacy of the moment.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look in the moonlight?" Ricky whispered in her ear, his voice low and steady, sending a shiver down her spine as he leaned down, his lips grazing her shoulder in a soft kiss.

"Not yet~" Raven purred, her voice dripping with a playful edge, a soft chuckle escaping her lips as she turned towards him.

Her back pressed against the cool surface of the terrace, her eyes locking with him as the scenery hung behind her like a well drawn landscape, pulling the image together in its perfect form.

"Well, you look beautiful in the moonlight," Ricky whispered, his lips brushing her cheek before he rested his head gently on her shoulder.

Raven glanced down at him, her gaze softening as she allowed the moment to settle between them.

"You did a good thing, you know that?" Raven whispered, pulling him into a tight hug and gently patting his head as they swayed softly, the quiet of the night surrounding them.

"I don't know if you did it for me, for yourself, or for mutants, but you did good." Raven kissed his cheek softly, her words lingering in the air as she pulled back just enough to look at him.

"So are you going to finally give me the chance I've been asking for?" Ricky chuckled, lifting his head up to gently place his forehead on hers.

"Can I ask the question?"

"Of course we can have sex here-"

"Not that." Raven scoffed, watching Ricky laugh without a care in the world as the sight made her slightly memorized.

"Why should I give you a chance?" Ravne asked with a playful smile as it was Ricky's turn to scoff.

"Oh come on-"

"Just humor me, please?" Raven pouted, her fingers gently brushing his cheek as she looked at him with a playful yet expectant gaze, hoping for a sincere response.

"Other than the fact that you're madly in love with me?" Ricky asked with a slight laugh.

"Other than that," Raven rolled her eyes, though the corner of her mouth hinted at a smile.

Ricky looked at her gently, then kissed her cheek once more, his lips lingering for a moment before pulling away.

"Because Destiny can't give you the loving family I can," Ricky murmured, resting his hand on her stomach as they began to sway back and forth.

"I'm serious about you, Raven," Ricky said, his voice low and earnest.

"I don't know what it is about you, but what I feel is real." Ricky paused, trying to find the right words, but there was a rawness in his honesty, an unspoken truth that hung in the air between them.

"I just want to f*cking cherish you." Ricky said the first thing that popped into his mind, but Raven didn't laugh and instead smiled warmly.

"Even in the briefest moments, I could not stop thinking about everything you were and the second I do, I see that I just can't let you slip through my fingers again."

"I'm not asking you to sacrifice yourself for me, but to let me show you that you belong with me." Ricky was almost surprised with himself at these words since he couldn't help but fall in love with her.

Everything about her drove him crazy, the way she talked, laughed, playfully nudged him away, and all of it boiled into this moment as Raven gently caressed his cheek.

"Okay, but don't think I'm just going to give you my heart all at once, Tiger," Raven teased, pulling him closer and kissing his lips.

His hands trailed down her back, the moonlight casting a soft glow over them as they stood in that quiet, intimate moment.

"I wouldn't expect anything less."

They sat in each other's company, gazing at the horizon as the world around them seemed to pause.

The silence between them stretched for what felt like an eternity, each lost in their own thoughts, until finally, Ricky broke the stillness.

"Hey Raven, what do you know about the High Table?" Ricky asked, the words slipping out before he had a chance to really think about it.

He remembered how she had stepped foot into the Continental so long ago, and the curiosity lingered in his mind.

The question was so simple on the surface, yet it carried so much weight, and it took Raven a moment to process it.

"What did you do?" Raven asked, squinting her eyes before thinking Ricky got caught up in something.

"Wha-nothing, I'm just wondering since my pops made some sort of deal with them-"

"What?!" Raven shot out of his grasp, her eyes widening in shock as she pulled away from him, her expression quickly darkening into a frown.

"I know it's a big deal, come on, my hands are feeling empty-" Ricky reached out, annoyed that he couldn't grope Raven all he wanted.

"Ricky, I don't know anything about the High Table," Raven said, her voice steady but firm. Ricky looked at her as if she was mistaken.

"But you've-"

"I know what you're going to say, but if you call me old, I'm going to scratch your face," Raven hissed, her fingers curling slightly as she shot him a playful glare.

"Alright but how, you've-"

"I've only met one High Table member, which is Selene," Raven said, holding up her finger as she recalled her brief stint in the Hellfire Club, where she crossed paths with Selene.

"But she's been in that position since the Roman Empire, and I only knew this because she told me," Raven continued, her voice tinged with caution.

"The members of the High Table are not just dangerous, they're untouchable. These are people who rule entire continents underbelly's, who can shift the balance of power with the flick of a finger, all while running the underworld with a vicious intensity. The kind of people you don't want to get caught in their sights who have been setting the rules since before there were any." Raven spoke, rubbing her own shoulder since the high table always made her uneasy.

"If Lucky, an unpowered man, was able to make a deal with them, then it had to be enough to catch their interest, which is something people have literally killed themselves for," Raven said, her voice laced with concern as she walked over to Ricky, settling herself onto his lap.

"I know you want to celebrate after what you did, but promise me you'll be careful." She caressed his cheek gently, her yellow eyes searching for any sign of understanding.

"Of course, who else is more careful than me?" Ricky showed a sleazy smile, not giving a direct answer while looking in a certain direction.

1 hour later,

Meanwhile at the local holding center,

Now, defeated and left disheveled and broken within the confines of his cell, Dewey had a hollow look on his face as he had essentially lost everything.

From his career all the way down to the love of his life, everything had shattered around him. Each piece of his once-ordered world lay in ruins, and in this moment, he felt utterly hollow.

His hands, once steady and sure, now trembled as they rested against the cold, unforgiving walls of the cell.

There was no escape from this darkness, no way to undo the choices that had led him here.

All that remained was the painful silence that echoed within him, a reminder of everything he had destroyed and everything he would never get back, until even that was broken.

Click

The sound of heels clicking in the distance resounded, growing louder with each step. Dewey slowly looked up, his hollow gaze meeting Ricky's pleasant smile.

They didn't say anything and didn't have to, they already knew why he was here as Ricky opened the cell door without a sound, closing it gently behind him as he stepped inside.

Without saying a word, he walked over and sat on the other side of the wall, the distance between them marked only by the silence that filled the room while the broken man stood on the other side of him.

"You're a monster." Dewey's voice cracked, the words escaping him like a dam breaking, as he looked at Ricky with raw anguish.

His eyes were empty, but the pain was still there, lingering in the depths all while Ricky just sat there, watching him with the same patient expression, as if expecting this.

"You're going to burn this country to the ground and become the heart of its suffering," Dewey spat, his hollow eyes igniting with the last ember of hate he had left, all of it focused on the man sitting across from him.

"I don't know how you did it or why, but I know one thing-.....y-you were just lucky!" Dewey yelled at Ricky, his voice trembling with a mix of fury and frustration, the anger barely contained beneath the surface.

Even now, even after everything, it was as if Dewey couldn't accept the weight of his failure which made Ricky let out a small laugh, turning away as if his words were nothing more than a joke.

"It was like everything was a line of dominoes, one thing falling after another, all perfectly lined up for you. And everyone credits you for it, but I know better. I know you didn't have the skill, the intelligence, or the guts to pull this off. It was all just luck, nothing more." Dewey could only hang onto his own delusion, knowing his words were false and yet, he continued.

"Someone is backing you like me, someone is helping you and-"

"You want to know why they call my pops 'Lucky'? The real reason, not the bullsh*t excuse he gives?" Ricky suddenly asked, cutting off Dewey's hateful breaths with the sharpness of his words.

"It's because whenever the odds were stacked against him, no matter what was in front of him, he won anyway." Ricky leaned his head back against the wall, resting his arms on his knees while his gaze stayed fixed on the broken man before him.

"He'd always tell me there's no such thing as luck, and so I never understood why they called him lucky, but I think I do now." Ricky chuckled, making a playing card appear before Dewey's eyes, spinning it through his fingers effortlessly.

"You got lucky-"

"You see, that's it." Ricky continued, his smile widening while the realization hit him at that moment.

"Guys like you always think that other people get lucky." Ricky tilted his head, showcasing his pearly whites with his cheeky smile on the side.

"And just like my pops," Ricky let his words drip, making each one cut deeper. He raised his gaze, locking eyes with Dewey.

"I don't get lucky, I make my own luck." Ricky laughed, the sound sharp and almost freeing, as the realization hit him fully, understanding now what his pops meant when he said there's no such thing as luck that you don't make yourself.

"Everything that happened to you didn't happen by some anomaly, it happened because it was meant to happen." Ricky leaned forward, his eyes narrowing into crescent moons, his pupils betraying the shock of revealing to Dewey that he was the root cause of it all.

"Don't you get it, Dewey? You didn't survive the blast. That front you had? It's evaporated. Now, just like I told you three years ago, I'm just gonna scurry out of the rubble." Ricky laughed maniacally, his promise coming full circle as Dewey trembled violently.

"Just like the cockroach you are," Dewey hissed, watching him rise slowly, adjusting his suit, and bending down to his level.

"And this cockroach also makes good on his promises." Ricky said, his voice low and cold as he grabbed Dewey's throat, squeezing tightly while lifting him off the ground.

"You're right, Dewey," Ricky whispered into his ear, his grip tightening on Dewey's throat.

"I'm the reason everything that happened to you, from your job and into France's, went down the way it did because of me." Ricky's words forced Dewey's eyes to widen in shock, and tears welled up as the weight of Ricky's words sunk in.

"But don't you worry, I'll take care of her and if you're wondering, she will be fuFILLED." Ricky laughed after highlighting the last part of his words, Dewey's heart shattering even further as Ricky brought out some rope.

Tying the rope above, he hoisted Dewey up, looping it around his neck before letting it go, the weight of it tightening instantly as the man succumbed to gravity.

"Kuerk!" Dewey let out a strangled grunt, desperately clawing at the rope as he hung above Ricky.

At first, he struggled, but gradually his body went limp, his face turning purple from the strain until he finally succumbed, his body becoming lifeless as the last image of Ricky's sleazy smile encapsulated his being before his eyes slowly shut for good.

"Goodbye Dewey."

The cold, dark void clung to Dewey's mind, his soul drifting away, until a bright light appeared in its wake.

It felt as though the light was calling to him, urging him to move forward as a warm pulse echoed around him.

Everything was over now, he could finally rest, leave his worldly troubles behind, and find the peace he had longed for.

"OH COME ON DEWEY, WHO SAID IT ENDS HERE!"

Then, within that void, dark green chains slowly coiled around his soul, their weight heavy and unrelenting.

Symbols began to materialize in the space around him, glowing with an eerie light, their meanings cryptic yet binding.

'N-No, NO PLEASE!' Dewey's soul cried out, screeching up towards the light only for the chains to yank him back down.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, I JUST F*CKING SAID I'D BE THE ONE TO TAKE YOUR LIFE, I DIDN'T MEAN YOU COULD JUST DIE!"

The words echoed all around the void, their resonance deep and suffocating, dragging Dewey's soul down deeper and deeper.

It was as though all the drifting, all the fleeting moments of peace he had hoped for, had been in vain.

The chains tightened, and the symbols pulsed with a cold, merciless energy, pulling him further away from the light he had once felt drawn to.

"WHAT'S THE POINT OF A F*CKING EXAMPLE IF NO ONE GETS TO SEE IT FIRSTHAND, OH NO DEWEY, I'M GONNA F*CKING OWN YOU!"

The intensity of Ricky's words cut through the void like a blade, a sharp declaration that reverberated through Dewey's fading consciousness.

The darkness around him seemed to throb with the weight of Ricky's fury, as if the very air was heavy with his wrath.

The chains constricted further, each symbol etched into Dewey's soul, marking him as Ricky's possession until they had finished.

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Dewey's scream tore through the air, a raw, gut-wrenching wail as his grotesque form twisted and contorted in the pit beneath him.

The relentless rain hammered down, soaking his twisted body, mixing with the mud as it clung to him.

Above, Ricky stood, a maddened grin stretched across his face, his hand gripping the shovel while personally taking Dewey out from the hole he'd been buried in.

The rain intensified, but Ricky's smile only grew, savoring every moment as Dewey wailed in his new body.

When Dewey was eventually pulled from the pit, lifeless and unmoving, the authorities declared it a suicide, processing his body with a detached coldness.

They found no sign of foul play, and Dewey's death was chalked up to his own despair.

His body was handed over to the only family he had left, Frances, who, with grim determination, gave him an impromptu funeral.

But as the mourners dispersed, Ricky emerged from the shadows, his grin never faltering.

The torment Dewey had endured was far from over and in a twisted revelation, Ricky made it clear that death was only the beginning of his suffering.

"W-What did you do to me?" Dewey trembled uncontrollably, his voice cracking with panic as he stared at his hands, the flesh rotting away in grotesque patches.

His heart wasn't even pounding and yet the surge of terror washed over him as he looked up at Ricky, whose smile was unsettlingly warm, as if nothing was amiss.

"When I said take your life, I meant it in the literal sense." Ricky's words were almost cheerful, chuckling while reaching down.

"But don't worry, Dewey, we're gonna have so much fun." Ricky said as his hand reached down, casting a shadow over the grotesque form of Dewey, who shook his head madly.

"No, NOOOOOOOOOOOOO-"

DING

(Legendary Servant) Dewey The Tortured Wraithbound: The Tortured Wraithbound, known as Dewey, is a grotesque, decaying zombie, distinguished by the eerie glow of its hollow eyes, an unsettling sign of the soul trapped within, eternally suffering. Its withered, blackened flesh is stretched taut over brittle bones, as if the weight of the tormented soul forces its body into unnatural contortions. The most tragic aspect of Dewey's existence is that while it is cognizant of its actions, it is powerless to control its own body. Its every movement is dictated by the summoner's will, a slave to the user's commands. The soul within endlessly cries for release, yet it remains bound, trapped in an agonizing limbo until the user's will is either exhausted or it is freed.

Abilities:

Eternal Agony (Passive):

The Wraithbound's presence induces overwhelming sorrow and dread, causing enemies nearby to experience brief hallucinations and weakened resolve.

Soulcry (Active):

The Wraithbound releases a torment-filled wail that disorients enemies, causing confusion or paralysis. Its strength grows the longer it's bound to the mortal realm.

Author's note: I'd love some feedback on whether you think I went too far with Dewey. The whole point was to make him an example, along with the families in the future, but I turned him into an undead because of Ricky's psychology. Him having this need to always go further and I really feel like Ricky wouldn't stop at this point cause he already crossed the line in earlier chapters. Does this seem out of character, or am I just second-guessing myself?

SHOUT OUT: Thanks M7TH1C for the image and to everyone who submitted images but I just kinda liked the raven one also, I realized that I can't even use the one I had in my mind since the stupid AI said it was inappropriate as well so I just can't stop taking L's.

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