The Journal Of OGLTG Baron Eternity

((Creative piece. Eventual origin for a new RP char, and testing a new style of writing))

Chapter One Breakout

You’ll have to forgive the style and wandering nature of this piece, it’s a remnant of the man who among many things taught me to read and write and since should I succeed in my attempts, this will be a forced subject matter you have no choice but to read. Pay attention there is likely to be a test ahead.
While most autobiographies start with birth or the lead up to some momentous event mine starts simply with the day of my recent escape from the Ziggurat Penitentiary.

Now before I start let me just say it was not the ‘cretinous staff’ or the ‘security systems designed by a chimp’ that allowed my escape. Of all the secure facilities they’ve held me in since my capture over the English Channel the Ziggurat or the ‘Zig’ as its more commonly known, was by far the most secure.

Truth be told I could of walked out of there and any of the others should the fancy of taken me, but I stayed because time is not an issue to me and it amused me to see the flow of power and influence with the zoo like penitentiary. To see the new comer so [censored] sure of themselves, so certain they are a lion only to discover they are no more than a mouse.

But I digress back to the matter at hand.

The day of my escape was like most Sundays, various of the inmates were engaged in their religious practises, those without blood sacrifices and the such at least.

For me Sundays meant a visit from one of the various psychiatrists that work in the penitentiary. For all that I helped the Axis during the Second World War, despite battling the allies and their super humans across, and in spite of those I’ve killed with my bare hands, though my hands weren’t actually bare at the time, they still believe that I can be reformed brought over to the side of the angels.

Well at least the angels acceptable to the United States Of America.

Perhaps they believe this because during my time of self enforced imprisonment I’ve never actually killed anyone, not an inmate or a guard not even a smug self assured psychiatrist who asks

‘Do you see the world as your mother, is that why you wanted to control it?’

Despite my own preference to none violent means of communication this is the seventh different psychiatrist to see me so far this year.

Some of them are simply killed when they ask the wrong individual

‘When you held up the bank, was it really just an attempt to hold you mother?’

And were promptly torn apart by some enraged half man half hippopotamus, that managed to snap its handcuffs.

Some simply quit, perhaps it’s the stories, after all there can only be so many horror stories a man can hear before he’s simply burnt out. His dreams of humanity and helping others shattered under the weight of tales he’s been told.

But again I digress back to the tale in hand.

The fellow before me his name card identifies him as Tim Stewart, he looks me over once and then adverts his eyes.

At this point I would like to point out he didn’t do this because I’m freakishly scarred or mutated or anything.

When they took me in I was wearing my armour a specially designed symbiotic living metal and they assumed this was my normal flesh, it’s difficult to make and pretty much proof to any weapon some one could make in a prison so I never corrected them on this mistake. It makes me chuckle sometimes to think that up until that point no one on Earth had seen my real face.

Well no one on ‘this’ Earth anyway.

So there I stand fully armoured a magnificent grotesque iron gargoyle all jagged surfaces and shinning with a glisten like gun metal.

I’ll admit that the effect was rather spoiled by the bright orange jump suit and handcuffs, but obviously you don’t get tailor made clothes in a prison.

He gestures to a chair and I sit down studying his face, I do that a lot a remnant of a different teachers habits.

He’s obviously trying to think of what to say, after all reforming me would be a rather large feather in his cap, at least a five book deal maybe more.

What he doesn’t know is that something more is going to happen today, he hasn’t been here long enough to feel the place. Most people don’t stay long enough, the prison guards some can feel it. A dangerous glint in the air, peoples hair bristling, a taste of ozone. The feeling that a storm is coming.

Its particularly noticeable among the inmates who serve the organisation Arachnos and its super powered dictator Lord Recluse.

You know I don’t get why he calls himself Lord Recluse, I know it’s the name of a spider I am after all a Meta-human level genius, but why that particular type of spider?

I mean it suggests does it not that he is reclusive, a shut in, a hermit, a recluse. But from what I heard he has a city as his base of power, and said city is covered in broadcast screens from which he preaches to the citizens about how big and bad and destined he is.

Really it’s not something I can understand.

If anyone has any ideas please write in, address your postcard to ‘Our Glorious Leader The Great Baron Eternity. Number 1 The Big Flying Castle, That Watches Over Us’ if I find your answer acceptable I will give you Australia.

Again I digress and again let us return to the story at hand.

I’d watched the rise of Arachnos with some interest though the papers and television that we are allowed only to watch from a distance through armoured glass. After all they were housing super villains, let one get too close to a TV and you might just be facing some form of robot or mind control device within minutes.

It was the closest I’d ever come to just walking out of a captivity and joining another organisation since lending the Axis my power and knowledge.

I watched with growing interest as Arachnos conquered the Rogue Islands and then… nothing. A stalemate both the USA and Arachnos sniping at each other, covert operations, terrorist actions but nothing decisive.

So I settled back down into my captivity until that day of rising tension.

So this fellow Tim, I’m sure he won’t mind me calling him Tim, assuming he survived the events of the breakout and assuming he survived what ever brought me to power, had no idea that this was not the best day to start work at the ‘Zig’.

He coughed nervously, and drank some coffee to clear his throat, luke warm by the look of it, I can see in infra-red by the way you should probably remember that its likely on the test, they don’t give them hot coffee in the ‘Zig’ after all why give some one another thing they can scold or maim you with.

Nor do they give us coffee in these, meetings not since the fellow with super strength decapitated his psychiatrist by spitting a high speed, super pressurised disc of coffee from his mouth.

Not that I mind, hate the stuff, again likely on the test.
Question: What is our glorious leader the great Baron Eternity likely to do if you offer him a cup of coffee?

Answer: Punch you in the face.

So Tim is sat there nervously playing with his coffee, when the first explosion occurs, to him it is a dull rumble and a flakes of cement falling on his hair.

To me it is vibrations in the wall, a loud thump and waves of sonar moving through the air, and of course flakes of cement landing on my armour.

I can hear now the metallic clangs of armoured figures running through the ‘Zigs’ corridors, the roar of inmates as the storm erupts, a mass breakout is on the cards.

Now Tim hasn’t done anything to offensive at this point so I snap my handcuffs easily and with a single blow knock him unconscious.

Now violence is usually my last resort but he was liable to get himself killed running around with all the animals on the loose. After all Vlad the baby eater, might not just eat babies.

I open the door to the room and drop the two guards a single blow for each and bundle them into the room, again the guard’s hadn’t done anything offensive.

On that note though it seemed to die out as years went by I’m rather annoyed at people guard’s goose stepping and giving each other the Nazi salute when I’m under their charge. Its not particularly clever, and its annoying I’m not after all even German. It’s not big it’s not clever and it gets annoying fast.

I step outside and turn my attention to the door, a quick rewiring and it can only be opened from the inside, super genius remember?

I walk towards the sounds of explosions, the black armoured figures of the Arachnos troops are every where. I give it another two minutes before Longbow response arrives and this place becomes a war zone.

A red caped figure catches my attention, looking from me to his PDA and then back again.

I don’t blame him though yes my armour is really distinct I had been in ‘retirement’ for around seventy years.

And there we go to another test question.

Question: If our glorious leader the great Baron Eternity doesn’t age, why does his record’s note declining health?

Answer: He play acted, partially for amusement and partially to ensure they didn’t increase security beyond the level he could escape. Super Genius Remember?
‘Baron Eternity?’ he asked

Looking as I do and more importantly wearing a bright orange jumpsuit with the name Baron Eternity above my prisoner number on the breast I could hardly deny it.

‘What of it?’ I replied

‘Lord Recluse has need of those with great destiny. You’re on the list’ he tapped the PDA with its pen.

‘Interesting’ I replied

I was actually interested, don’t let my later actions fool you, I at that point really did want to see how Lord ‘not so reclusive’ Recluse was assessing peoples destiny.

It was a short journey from there past crowds of inmates settling scores, some with guards others with other inmates.

The flyer was both a surprise and a delight, technology had obviously advanced while I had been inactive. It took me a few moments study my vision switching between spectrums to work out how it functioned. Once again all together this time. Super Genius Remember?

I boarded the flyer with several other jump suited escapees, ranging from normal, to animal to obviously vegetable and mineral. Luckily none of them were mutterers, I can’t stand people who mutter and grumble to themselves all the time.

The flyer took off silently, something that startled some of the other passengers, but I had expected it, after all no one loads a craft with so many stealth fields only to have it sound like a freight train.

As we left soaring into the sky Longbow arrived, soldiers below and around us their own aircraft. One of the passengers threw a ball of fire out the opened door, surprisingly giving the speed of our accent and the rapid movements of the Longbow ships it hit sending the craft spiralling and burning to the ground.

Several of the passengers cheered, one even whooped.

The stealth fields kicked in and the flyer was rapidly out of the Penitentiaries air space, soon outside of the city and then over international waters.

But of course this is the story of Our Glorious Leader The Great Baron Eternity, not Baron Eternity Lackey To A Badly Named Spider Themed Dictator.

But on to the next chapter the story of what makes a man as great as me and why I took over the world.

Chapter Two. Origin

What makes a makes a man?

His past? Some even that forever changed him and sculpted his future? Or perhaps everything is predestined from birth and it’s your genes that make you who you are?

Maybe its even simply culture and climate, how and where you grew up what shapes the adult you become.

And powers do they shape a man? Or does a man shape his powers to suit himself?

Now to understand my origin you have to accept the theory of cascading parallel dimensions, just accept it, I know they are real and after all I am far smarter than you.

Now in the little dimension I was born everything flowed perfectly normal, almost exactly the same as this Earth infact. Maybe the small variables were different the exact words said by one man to another, what George Washington used to have for breakfast. But the major historical events were the same. Until the nineteen twenties that is, no one was sure what caused it though I myself have theories about it.

An explosion echoed around the Earth an explosion of magical energy that tore the clouds and shook the Earth, and then nothing seemed to happen. Indeed nothing changed for an entire year, but one year post the explosion winter came and it didn’t leave.

Decades passed and society changed with the new ice age and it was into this world I was born. A world of harsh winds and blinding white snow fields that stretched for thousands of miles.

My earliest memories are of my adopted family, for parents I had Farther Mikale and Sister Tina. Kindly god fearing folk they had established an orphanage at the edge of the snow plains, I honestly can’t tell you where we lived back then, it was still several years before events gave me my powers and I had never even seen a map at that age.

For an elder brother I had Marco and to tell you the truth no matter who I met later in my life, I don’t think I’ve ever respected some one more. As a child I looked up to him as the perfect example of a man, I could often be seen toddling after him childishly aping his actions.

Years later came my little sister Nicola her mother died during childbirth as she desperately made her way to The New World Republic after raiders attacked her village.

And there I would say is my origin point, everything I’ve done with my life no matter how terrible, how damming on my soul, has been for her sake.

Truth be told I would burn the world to see her smile.

Life continued poorly but happily until the approach of my tenth birthday, winter came that year and with it the raiders.

While the much of the world banded together for survival during the ice age not everyone did, the world was split between those in The New World Republic and those who were raiders.

The events are still sketchy and my memory of the event is broken by the trauma that was infected I remember trying to defend the door to our little home with my brother and father, I remember stabbing and slashing and red blood on the white snow.

I remember the face of the raider who slashed away my vision, of course I remember what I later did to him when I became who I am now.

The village managed to hold off the raiders with a small amount of fatalities, the raiders were run off when Rangers arrived from a near by army base.

I’d meet the raiders again several years later, but by that point I was much more than a frightened boy with a kitchen knife.

As a family we left and headed for the capital, it was for my sake really they hoped some one could heal my eyes, secretly I think we all knew that it was hopeless. How wrong we were.

At the capital we were approached by a Doctor and a member of the Rangers who had saved our little village. They’d been impressed by will to try and fight even when blinded, and they offered us two things, the chance that I could be healed and in the case of it failing money and a place to live in the city.

I accepted as I’ve said, for Nicolas sake I would gladly die and burn in hell.

They did things to me there, things ranging from science to mystical processes. They gave me new eyes, eyes that are inhuman I can see in several spectrums of energy. My blood burns in my veins now something more alchemical than natural, it’s brought other changes I’m faster and stronger than a person has any right to be.

They accelerated my growth and then turned of my aging, at eleven years old I looked like I was thirty and now at eighty five years old I’m still physically thirty years old.

My new blood warped and shaped my organs, making me resistant to almost anything, I can hold my breath for nearly a day and I no longer need to eat, my body can draw energy to keep itself going from sunlight and other energy.

Not that I’ve stopped eating mind you, I still like a nice well done steak with hot sauce, remember that its probably on the test.
Every part of me was modified by my new blood, my nerves quickened I can dodge bullets if I focus my mind on doing so, but the equipment I use means a bullet won’t stop me so I only do it when I want to show off.

The nerve enhancements of course extended to my brain and I became a super genius that is to say, the never enhancements and having the sum of man kinds knowledge taught me at an amazing speed. My eyes can read an entire screen of data in a nanosecond and my brain is fast enough to process it.

So the scientists fed me the information new eyes watching the screen for days on end as book after book was fed directly into my brain.

Of course it wasn’t just science they taught me. Warfare followed both tactical teachings and of course actual combat training.

Once again I’d like to say I see violence as a last resort, If I want something I’ll set a plan in motion to acquire it, hire some one to steal it. Simply smashing some one over the head and taking what I want is ever so low brow, not that I couldn’t after all there is a science to fighting and I am a Super Genius.

I nearly lost my mind at that point, and I’m sure I would of if not for my family. My mothers comforting arms, the assurances that everything would be okay from my brother and little Nicola singing the same lullabies we had used to calm her down as a baby.

My father said something then that has stayed with me ever since

‘Son needs must when the devil drives’

In the years since when ever I began to doubt who I had allied myself with or the outcome of plans I had set in motion I remember my burden and I remember those words.

It was a year later that I gained my title, the raider groups had joined together to form a vast band. A group of which had avoided the Rangers patrols, they were camped outside of the city, untouchable by the rangers as they had hostages.

Among the hostages were children who had been learning how the cities farms worked.

Among said children was the daughter of the president of The New World Republic and Nicola my sister.

While the presidents orders held the ranger back from attacking while negotiations were going on there is nothing. I repeat NOTHING that will stop me if Nicola is in danger.

Assuming my plans have come to fruition and your reading the published edition of my journal, you had better note that, harming her will get you killed no matter what the hell you are!

But I digress though that time was to give a warning not an anecdote.

As I said nothing would stop me so I grabbed my armour and went to deal with the raiders.

That day was the first and hopefully last time I’ve ever been consumed by bloodlust, I hit the raiders like an apocalypse. Did you know if you hit some with an object the size of a fist travelling just under the speed of sound they explode?

I didn’t until that day.

Some of the raiders were clever than the others they threatened the hostages, I actually fully lost it that point my vision clouded all I could see was red and smell blood, when IO regained my sense I’d killed all the raiders who had been camped there.

Late I was told I was like a blur on the snow, a red mist of blood and death travelling from raider to raider faster than the eye can track.

Not a single hostage died.

I was given my title then something I brought with me to this world.

And that is my origin my little how I cam to be, of course it doesn’t explain why I tried to take over the world and what has kept me trying so long, but they will be explained in later chapters.

Chapter Three. Mercy Island.

That little nugget of my past revealed to you let us return to the events that occurred shortly after escape from the ‘Zig’

As many of you might know Arachnos has a list, a list of names, and a list of names of people that are destined to help Arachnos in some way.

People with a destiny. The Destined Ones.

Or so the caped Arachnos soldier informed us as our jump jet headed across the waters to Mercy Island. During my time of imprisonment Arachnos had risen from the sewers and taken over the chain of islands known as the Rogue Islands.

Mercy Island was to be a test for us, the caped soldier informed us, there we would be met by a Fortuna named Kalinda, she was to be our first contact within Arachnos, some one who would explain further the rules of the Rogue Islands.

I took the opportunity to observe how my fellow destined escapees were taking the instructions. In particular I noted the disgruntled features of the one who had from fire and destroyed the pursuing Longbow craft. Had he not expected this?

Maybe he’d thought we’d be welcomed with open arms, hailed as heroes of villainy?

Of course we’d have to prove ourselves after all even the destiny they thought we had could be thwarted by misfortune, misadventure and sheer bloody minded stupidity. I saw the beach from the corner of my eye and stood, wishing once again for the imposing costume I’d worn during the war and of course for my cape.

Now a cape isn’t just a theatrical aid though it serves very well as one, it has tactical value it obscures your form, intimidates civilians if used correctly and of course in the hands or on the back of a super genius its so much more, a teleportation matrix for example or an optic camouflage material for escape purposes.

At that point I had wished for my cape for two reasons it would make my next action so much easier and second it would have been much more impressive.

Rising to my feet I stood in front the open door of the jump jet.

“Gentlemen” I said “I thank you for the offer of employment and of course the gracious lift from the United States to these fine islands. But I must decline and take my leave”

With this said I crossed my arms and toppled backwards out of the jump jet.

I must advise you readers this is not something you should attempt unless you are invulnerable, can fly or like myself can calculate the exact movements needed to constantly air break and keep your falling speed below a fatal level.

I wish I could say I landed with perfection, a full set of tens from the judges however that would be a lie. It’s simply impossible without the ability of flight to jump from an aircraft at that height and land with any form of dignity. As I crashed onto the roof of a small house I felt several ribs snap, nothing too serious, well worth the infamy that such a stylish exit would bring among the islands.

Now you may think that such an action was stupidity, sure proof that I am not the genius I claim to be. I’ll forgive you this once.

Now the reason I chose such a dangerous stunt was simple I wanted to erase the image I’d built up during my years of imprisonment. After all frail, old, slightly senile Baron Eternity would find it far more difficult to find allies than my true never aging super human self would.

I laid there catching my breath, feeling my armour mould itself differently feeling it snap the ribs back into place and give them reinforcement .
It was at this point the roof promptly gave in dropping me into the drug den of a group of young thugs known as the Hellions.

Young thugs with magically granted super powers, hell fire stings even with the powers I have. It also smells terribly of sulphur. As I said previously every sense I have has been augmented beyond human. Out of all of them I think I could of done without the sense of smell, to be honest reader its been more trouble than its worth some times.

Ever helped the Vahzilok, the smell of embalming fluid mixed with the stench of the sewers in which they usually operate?

Not something that makes dealings with them pleasant. I could go on and on about how much I dislike them. In fact I may very well do that in a future chapter. Still they pay good money and the fifteen foot walking arsenal of destruction doesn’t build it self. At least not yet, maybe I should work on the design some more.

Now I taught the youngsters the errors of their ways, both metaphorically and literally, I gave them a beating until they stopped attacking me and then pointed out where they were going wrong with their drug production, corrected the set up of apparatus so they were getting both a purer product and were losing less of the base chemicals in the process.

Now I’ll take a time out here to explain my view on drugs. You want to expand your mind and play with the pixies go ahead I have no problem. You hurt others while doing so or are off chasing the fairies while I’m relying on you to do something, then we have a problem a major one at that.
And the price for my little educational course?

A roll of crimson cloth and the contact details of those with jobs for people with certain skill sets.

Clad in my costume I travelled with purpose to meet the first name on the list, a mercenary by the name of Matthew Burke.

But the rebirth of my career can wait let me first tell you of my first trip to the so called ‘Home land of heroes’ Paragon City.

Chapter Four. Paragon City

War changes many things, it changes a man, it changes a nation and it changes a city. I walked the streets of Paragon city and felt the wind on my face for the first time in years. The Rikti wars had passed me by with little to no impact, a few of the familiar faces had stopped returning to incarceration and for months the papers and television had shown nothing but Rikti related news, but the bomb blasts and armoured troops had not bother me in the slightest.

The war had changed this city however drawn heroes to defend her and caused the invention of the war walls to protect her. Miles of concrete construction and force field emitters. It would be hell to attack this place I knew but in turn, its protections could turn the city into hell itself.

That is one of the plans I vowed never to use, killing civilians on that scale is an action I don’t think I’d ever bring myself to do. No matter how hard the devil drives I’m a super genius I will find another way.

My purpose in the city wasn’t tourism though I did bask in my anonymity walking her streets unclad of armour and dressed as a normal man, one with out destiny or a billon lives riding on every breath.

I was there to see a man. Hans Kerminler formerly known as Doctor Panzer-fist, a genius of a man who I had worked with during the war. He was never an evil man in fact like myself he took evil actions to save the lives of another. In this case his daughter Greta who at the time was dying of an incurable wasting disease that was eating away at her body. The same research and funding that he used to create the fearsome machines that fought throughout Europe, was used to try and create a mechanical means for her to live on.

I’d lost contact with him during the years after the wall, unsurprisingly he’d escaped most geniuses do. We can see the change coming long before it does, so the heroes arrive finding our lab deserted and research gone, maybe even a ticking time bomb on its last seconds to detonation.

If not for my capture over the English Channel I too would have of escaped and not spent years watching the political map of the world change.

But that was a drunken bet and another chapter in my tale.

It had taken me several days worth of tasks to create a fictional persona, to the world I was now a man from the middle of the great American no where, a humble inventor of vacuum cleaner technology who always paid his taxes on time, only had one major incident of ill health in his life and was an avid movie buff with a well worn Blockbusters membership.

At least I was digitally, any one who actually took the time to chase up the records wouldn’t find any actual paper, find an actual house or real person wondering what was going on.

More called in favours got me smuggled back to America with a wallet full of dollars and rather flattering if nondescript clothes to put said wallet in.

Don’t let the accents fool you, just because the ‘Family’ sound like a Godfather collectors DVD boxed set doesn’t mean they are idiots. They never forget some one they owe a favour and they never forget some one who needs paying back. I sometimes wonder what would happen if they owe some one both. I haven’t wondered enough to find out though, their legitimately fronted smuggling operations have proved useful on many occasions.

So hear I was a country born and bred inventor come to meet an investor. Or so I was to any one who didn’t go rooting deep into my memories, I’ve not perfected the ability to lie to myself so well that even I don’t know I’m lying. Or perhaps I have and am doing it right now.

A short tram ride brought me to Galaxy City, a section of Paragon named after a famous hero some Galaxy Girl; I saw the statue and the gathered heroes there. Apparently this spot was a meeting point for the cities various meta-humans.

Tactically it made sense, local villains wouldn’t approach the place, they’d get to know each other in an off duty kind of way and with so many gathered there was bound to be some one who could stop an rocket propelled grenade round or two.

Still I headed to the apartment that my patient tracking down had finalised as Hans current abode. It was as simple as breathing to disable the security camera on that floor as I walked towards his door and as I did so I let my armour form again. After all Hans had never seen my real face.

I knocked on the door, enhanced hearing picked up footsteps and the swish of cloth from inside the apartment.

A melodic female voice shouted
‘Just one minute’

For just a second I doubted my calculation, could I have been wrong? Had Hans moved elsewhere? Died?

The door opened and I looked into the face of a young blond haired woman. Mentally I added a few years to a face I knew.

‘Hello Greta’ I greeted her

I heard then the motors from the girl they gave a slight whine (I suspect inaudible to a normal human) as she smiled.

‘Mister Funny-face’ she greeted me back with a girlish laugh

Now to some people my armoured form looks intimidating a gargoyle of steel, a sharp metallic demon walking the earth, to others though it’s elongated nose and large jaw is humorous.

I accept this after all humour is not a universal thing; however I only allow those I like to get away with mocking it, once the idea becomes tiresome.

‘Is your farther here? I’ve come to pay him a visit’ I asked stepping inside after a brief hug.

‘Please this way. I’ll just get him’

I looked around the living room to which I had been shown; it was the most un-Germanic room you could imagine. Perhaps we geniuses get too carried away when we hide something.

Time had not been kind to Hans. The heavyset dark haired, barrel chested who looked more like a black smith than a scientist had become this frail bald man walking with the aid of a stick.

But still I could see in his eyes there burnt the fire, the fire that would destroy the world to save a loved one. The first of a man who had given his soul for some one else’s life.

‘I look terrible don’t I you iron devil?’ he croaked with a slight wheeze

‘Could look worse, you could be dead’ I joked back

That little joke was a reminder of our days together as part of the supreme scientists a group who had dedicated their science for various personal reasons to the Third Reich.
Many a morning we’d used that phrase after returning hung over from a night toasting the success of an experiment or drowning the sorrows of a defeated one.
‘Greta open the wine. Our good friend has returned and he hasn’t drank in half a century’ Hans yelled and in that I remembered the young scientist that had sent technicians scuttling about with bellowed orders and roared curses.

We talked and we drank about Greta and how well she looked, about plots that should have won the war and lucky Yank and Tommy super humans who had stopped them.

We talked of our co-workers and what had happened to them. Surprisingly three of the others had survived and I made promises to look them up some time. Two had left the time stream another gone dimension hopping. One had turned himself into a vampire, though I had expected something like that to happen to him. His arrogant and aloof nature, the fondness for black clothing and the fact we always considered him a suck up made him ideal to become one.

The reason I’d originally looked him up was to enquire about the Midas project, something we had been working on until certain heroes sent me for a swim in the sea.

It had come to a failure meaning I would have to earn money through the super genius equivalent of doing chores.

I left with a light heart and even lighter head. I am an arrogant drunk, and between the three of us we’d managed to down several gallons of wine. A drinking match with a cyborg is not to be attempted particularly one whose stomach can process alcohol directly into fuel.

It was this arrogance that led me back to the statue of Galaxy Girl and led me to interact with the gathered meta-humans. To them I was no doubt a simple slightly drunk, slightly scared guy from the middle of no where.

But I was accessing them all the three I talked to that night were members of Paragons undead community. Well two of them certainly were obviously reanimated corpses and the third had the arrogant superiority complex of the vampire down.

I couldn’t be sure of the third without changing my vision to observe the infra red spectrum, which of course makes my eyes change shape and colouration, something Billy Joe Normal from out in the woods wasn’t supposed to be able to do.

The taller of the reanimated bodies was your basic warning on magic, a soul brought back to be a slave, that would not be broken and slayed its master.

The second told a melancholy story that almost stirred me to action.

Brought to life by a grieving man attempting to bring back a daughter who had died, she was an imperfect creation ragged in flesh and odd in mind.

As I first observed her she was sowing up wounds in her flesh with no more apparent discomfort than some one sowing clothes.

I immediately saw the similarities between her and Greta I am after all a super genius. When she told how her ‘father’ had been taken away by the ‘pale blue’ I almost acted without a plan.

‘How simple it would be’ I thought ‘To steal back her father from the police, kidnap the girl and help him perfect the task’

It was a grim truth that stopped me.

There I was in the Lions Den, and without my technology, my robots and death rays, my subtle magic devices and spells I was a lamb.

Perhaps I helped the little rag doll girl and her farther you will have to read on to find out.

Chapter Five. Mercenary

Matthew Burke is a man walking a fine line between being crushed and obliterated. When Arachnos conquered the Rogue Islands many people were pushed out or swallowed by the organisation Burke is not one of those people.

The fine line he walks is that between being pushed out by Arachnos and being killed by Arachnos. Still walking that line allows him to maintain a modest area of influence. Day to day he has to maintain a fine level of danger, just enough that Arachnos doesn’t step on him but not so much that they’d stomp on him.

And that is where people such as myself come in. Burke and his connections and more importantly the money said connections can provide are invaluable to some one trying to re-establish their reputation both in the under world of villains and on the world stage.

His first task was a simple act of espionage to place simple tracking devices on a number of Arachnos air vehicles from what I understood said devices could alert Longbow of the vehicles location and get them shot down. I guess this is what allowed him to keep operating here, the resources gained and irritation removed by having him eliminated were less than the resources lost and irritation gained by having the flyers shot down.

Still the bugs are findable, and so he wages a silent war having people new to Mercy Island plant new bugs for him before he will send them on to new contacts, in turn Arachnos find and remove the bugs occasionally killing and locking away some of these new powers.

Of course with such a genius as my self on the task the outcome was a forgone conclusion though of course my methods as were unexpected.

The drug laboratory the Hellions were operating had given me the necessary chemicals to construct a mind altering agent. Back home this agent went by the name ‘Forget Me Not’ when inhaled the drug rapidly travels to the brain and affects the pleasure and memory centres of the brains stimulating them both the effect I’m told is to be living in your most pleasant memories for hours on end. Certainly it proved pleasant enough to become an epidemic back home with millions of addicts world wide.

Armed with enough of this gas for thirty people I vaulted the fence into the restricted area, moving from shadow to shadow like a wraith. That’s not to say I was being cowardly merely that given my current resources it was not wise to gain the anger of an organisation while in the middle of one of their powerbases.

Its human nature when surprised to inhale sharply, priming the blood stream with oxygen so that you can run and escape or fight should the surprise be a threat.


The flight or fight instinct has served mankind for millennium.
However when said surprise is a super genius spraying you in the face with a fast acting chemical agent inhaling will simply send you spiralling off into a blissful state. More importantly it messes with your short term memory.

Leaving the Soldiers of Arachnos to dream, I placed the bugs and returned to burke. Payment bought me food and a place to stay, also a cellular phone for use in contacting people of influence.

His next set of tasks simply involved the reptilian life form known unsurprisingly as the Snakes. Resembling a snake with a human torso these creatures had apparently infested the tunnels below the Rogue Islands, according to some people they’ve always been there long before Pirates and others colonised the Rogue Islands.

Honestly the origin of these creatures doesn’t interest me so I’ve never felt the need to investigate them.

Still others showed interest in them and thus I was tasked with various sample gathering operations, a section of skin to be sent to one lab, shell to another and a hatch of juveniles to a third.

The tasks weren’t hard but the money was proving enough to upgrade my finances soon however the tasks simply weren’t paying enough so I moved on to the island of Port Oakes.

Burkes last action was to put me in contact with a broker, a man who kept his rather large ears to the ground and sold on the information to various powered individuals in the area.

He operated in away that he assured me was standard throughout the isles after initial contact he would teach you or in some cases give you something to decode the information he would place in the news papers adds and personal sections.

It took me a few seconds to crack his cipher clever, but not clever enough, I am a super genius after all.

Knowing so many people made it easy for him to make a living not only by fencing information and devices stolen by those villains who decided to take him up on his offers, but also by putting interested parties in contact with those villains they wished to offer jobs directly to.

After all some jobs are simply too important or secretive to advertise to any one with decent code cracking skills.

Now you may be asking this mercenary approach doesn’t it grate on my ego?

A worth question true but nothing could be further from the truth.

To become some one outside the law whose actions are only constrained by their own beliefs, yes you need the arrogance to decide the laws of lesser men don’t apply to yourself.

Of course you also need the power to break free of the law after all no amount of posturing and self congratulation will get you back on your feet after some one has hit you with a car to the face.

Not that super powers are all you need though they help make that initial leap, there are after all other powers available that bring there own sense of self worth.

The power that only generations of having more money than everyone brings is different from that of being able to bench press a tank.

Likewise being more intelligent than all those around you is a different type of power, it’s the most important in my own rather humble opinion.

You see a rich person can buy strength, but not make him self any smarter.

A strong person can become rich, but again no smarter than they are fated to be.

An intelligent person can mimic the strength of a strong person through other means and also gain the wealth of a rich person by applying themselves the task.

But I digress.

With the power and the arrogance to escape the laws of common men you enter a new world a world of people like you.

And this is where a third ability is required to succeed in this new society, the ability to realise when it’s better to bow your head and tow the line. We are in a ocean of big fish, but until your sure you’re the biggest you should keep your splashing to a minimum.

Now given the amount of jobs I was pulling you would think I was living the life of a rock star, doing drugs off the backs of various hookers and playing the base ball in my bathroom yes?

You couldn’t be further from the truth my income was spent on three things a place to stay, food to eat and the construction of devices.

There has been a time or two when I’ve been sat in some dank basement eating, greasy Up ‘N Away fried chicken and trying to salvage a workable piece of equipment from a dozen shop bought utilities that I’ve been tempted to give up.

Still a smiling face and the weight of my task keeps me going even when times were that bad.

As I said I’m smart and given time I could construct my devices from nothing, but that takes time to do, so jury rigging a bunch of standard devices into something fantastic proves to be the best way to start.

Eventually the devices will help me gain the resources and finance to build proper versions of my equipment.

Thanks to whoever decided to blow up the various Science Squad resource dumps that proved to be useful when I went looking for them.

Re-establishing your self as a super genius requires time and resources, resources require money and to gain money you have to spend time.

So I worked doing jobs perhaps I was lowering myself however the price of depleted uranium shells demand that I did anything for any amount of money.

That’s not to say I was a stooge, a henchman if you will. Many a person who thought themselves my superior have found an unexpected monkey wrench in their death ray or an emergency teleporter that sent them straight to a holding cell.

I can put up with a lot but there are some people who crossed the line, I’m not sure if any of them ever figured out I double or in some cases triple crossed them. Can’t say they were all the type able to figure it out.

I worked to do two things, to gain resources and to forge contacts.

Eventually without allies even the most cunning of plans can be destroyed.

I dismissed the Family, the Skull and Hellions out of hand they simply were not suited to my aims, their sights were set too low with such low goals as get rich and get more magic powers. Simply unsuitable to my own goal.

It seemed as I sat working on a system for harnessing the bodies electrical field into an attack, that I would have to look elsewhere in our particular society for allies up to the task.

Of course this would not doubt mean more mercenary tasks.

Chapter Six. Forget Me Not Sweet Infiltrator.

Forgive me the rather poor poetry of this chapters title, I was deep in my cup when writing it. After all it has been a rather troubling couple of days and a man is allowed to drink within reason. Though of course as that night above the British channel reminds me, reason can sometimes vanish with a nights revelry.

Let us first discuss allies, no that is far too loose a term for the pair of women I met that night. Business partners would be a more apt term, no nothing like that I can see what your thinking. My interest in them was purely financial at the time, but who knows they were both attractive looking lasses and who but God can dictate the path of a mans heart?

But still both women were not as you might put it maids of high society, both were of low class connections and both seemed to be associated with both magic and death. Yes magic and death surrounded me that night, I really wonder what attracts that type of person to talk with me, the clothes maybe?

Perhaps I have an almost impeccable animal magnetism that says come to me oh creatures undead and tell me your tragic unlife story!

Still the first was establishing a gang of street thugs here in the Rogue Islands, all to avenge her own death at the hands of some magic hero in Paragon City. What brought her back she didn’t know or if she did know was not willing to tell a random stranger in a bar. Still she was in the same situation as me, eking out a pittance doing tasks for one criminal after another. I saw right then a chance for mutual gain, as I mentioned before I had created a drug popular back home. While I was merely using it as a weapon, a tool to covertly wipe peoples short term memory, this ‘forget me not’ could prove a valuable source of income to fund my various plots and inventions.

Off course I am but one man, a hyper intelligent, sublimely charming, wickedly handsome man and almost priestly in my humbleness, but still just one man. I also am well aware that my dress sense though it seems to attract the undead would not attract a clientele of people looking to get high.

So I proposed a business deal with the young woman, through her street level contacts she would distribute the drug around the Rogue Islands. In return we’d split the earning thus funding her revenge and my own interests.

The second woman I met that night claimed to be an African priestess of some death cult, she certainly looked the part towering over me in her ceremonial bone like armour. She claimed to have contacts with the street gang known as the ‘Skulls’ and more importantly she claimed to have methods of getting my drug to Paragon City.

Truthfully she seemed more interested in the havoc that a new wave of addicts would cause to Paragon City and its law enforcement agencies than any actual profit from the deal but still it takes all types to make the world, and I could hardly deny that I had no interest in what would happen next.

You see at the time of writing this ‘Forget Me Not’ is not actually illegal, the components that make it can be bought in any drug store throughout the US, I merely take these chemicals and through a process that is mainly science with only a slight hint of the arcane turn it into the ‘Forget Me Not’ gas. Placing this gas within a small plastic bubble all the user has to do is break the bubble in their mouth and breath the gas into their lungs.

And hey presto! They are reliving all their happiest memories. Of course its dreadfully addictive and in most cases leads to the addict being so consumed by reliving their memories that they forget to do simple things like watch out for traffic or feed themselves.

Still it doesn’t concern me after all I don’t make them take it.

The third person I met that night was the same patch work girl from Paragon city, and what deals I made with her will remain secret until I have used my little bartering offer.
Suffice to say she is the reason why I currently have a Brontosaurus skeleton in my apartment and am quite pressed for space because of it.

Of course one doesn’t go from personal use to whole sale drug pushing without a little work and heavy modification to the production equipment.

And so it was in the middle of this process and severely hung over that at four AM I received a phone call from one of my contacts. The man was a ****, in the criminal rings he was considered a real loser but lately he’d gotten some rather profitable work for one of my skills and willingness to disregard things like crossing other organisations.

He informed me that he’d discovered something that would of got us both killed. The person who had been contacting him with these jobs was actually a operative of the US meta-human forces known as Longbow.

Now on the one hand Recluse is a dangerous power hungry, mad man who controls the Rogue Islands with an iron fist, but despite that Longbows actions in the Rogue islands could be considered those of a terrorist organisation. Still it’s not the first time that a country has tried to hide its wrong doing behind spandex and claims of justice.

Still in the Rogue islands working with Longbow has one outcome should Arachnos find out, your death. I’d been careful in most of my jobs so far only with the stealing of the Dinosaur had I shown off an let it be attributed to me.

But this **** of a man had a plan to make me correct his mistake, should Arachnos come for him he’d tell them I was the one he’d contacted to perform the actual missions, thefts and assassinations. I believed him to be cunning enough to have certain facts come out should I take the simpler path and do away with him.

So I had to interrupt my own profit making exercises to traipse around Caup Au Diable hunting down this Longbow operative, during my shake ups, bust ins and observations I saw many unrelated things, some profitable, some deadly several rather obscene but none of which I’m writing about.

With almost cosmically perfect comic timing I found him talking to several of his Longbow associates about how he’d managed to trick some stooge into doing several of his missions. A short sharp punch to the jaw shut him up and made my hang over feel a lot better.

Now of course I still had my contact to deal with, I wasn’t about to let some little **** of a man force me to do things like some sort of indebted servant. I took a quick stock of my resources, one very unconscious, very wanted by Arachnos Longbow spy and a lot of psychotropic drugs. Let us just say that **** of a man won’t be bothering me with any early morning calls any more, not after the story the spy told his interrogators at any rate.

I am Baron Eternity and I will work with you if it benefits us both, but cross me and I will put you in the morgue or some place even worse.

You have been warned.

Chapter seven. With a mind if not a soul.

I have been called erotic by many people and while that has very little to do with this chapter, I just thought I’d throw it out there.

In case any one was interested, that’s all.

Many people have claimed I am erratic when it comes to my science, my plans and various plots. This is untrue, what one may call the erratic jumping and dropping of plans, days spent creating new technologies all span from my drive for completion take my latest (at time of writing of course) endeavour.

Basking in the halogen glow of my slightly more improved lab and living space in a rented basement of some dirty run down apartment complex. I still hadn’t moved out even now my cash flow had increased, simply so that I could accelerate my technological experiments. Experiments like the fibrous tufts now taking shape below my watchful gaze, each strand a complete micro energy converter, pulling in the back ground radiation of the world, the solar energy of the day light hours and even the ambient radiation emitted by certain meta-humans. In turn the strands would convert gathered energy into a form useable by whatever machine I decided to use the strands for.

And this is where some people would say signs of my erratic nature would show.

Looking at the strands of fibre I suddenly realised how similar to hair they looked and wondered if I could create a power system to fit in the cranium of an android. So I did. Now having what was basically the back end of an androids head and its wig, left me still feeling as though the job was undone, so I created the head of a Gynoid (that’s a robot that looks like a female human). But then it struck me that the head alone looked again unfinished so I constructed the rest of ‘her’ body, noting that the ‘strand’ technology gave off tremendous amounts of power I of course built in ways for ‘her’ to use this power.

So there I was three days later than I thought the experiment would take, what had started out as a simple energy conversion fibre weave was now the hair of an energy manipulating Gynoid. Still even with its perfect form it was still not finished, for one thing it needed clothes for another it needed an A.I.

Now to construct an A.I is much like raising a child assuming of course that by raising a child you’re directly sticking obstacles into its mind and then killing off any versions of said child that dealt with the object in an undesired way. So perhaps not like raising a child at all. Much attention to detail went into the construction of ‘her’ AI and many cups of coffee. There typing away constructing things directly in machine code where higher levels would not suffice.

Finally there I was with a fully functional combat Gynoid who I must mention was capable of vaporising everything within fifty yards should ‘she’ ever activate her self destruct device. Of course a hundred things I could do with ‘her’ here in the Rogue Islands came to mind, more than half of them were things of a none smutty nature.

The one that piqued my scientific interest was this one. I would ship her to Paragon City and have her slowly integrate herself with the hero community, an atomic wolf in spandex sheep’s clothing. I programmed ‘her’ after all to be quite cute and naïve, traits that should endear her to the, certain facts were already built into ‘her’, ‘she’d’ believe her self to be the master piece work of some dead robotics professor a good man if slightly doddery who passed away before activating her. Years later she awakened and found her self to be in Paragon City, with the core drive to help others guiding her actions.

Of course she’d also communicate with myself keeping me informed of all she had learned . This was something she’d never be aware of certain black boxed systems shielded from her own awareness.

Part of me wondered as I bundled ‘her’ up in a packaging crate and called UPS, would we ever meet face to face, would her programming to do good one day draw her to combat my own plans. Only time would tell what happened to my little nuclear doll.

Chapter Eight. The Belly of the Beast.


If I have but one failing it is my impatience. Not that I can not wait should waiting be required, but do to the urgency of my task and my own natural inquisitive nature I instinctively seek a faster method, a better method to reach my goals. Which has lead to current servitude. To understand why I greatest of minds have been forced to serve under the banner of Arachnos you need to understand Dark Matter.

Dark Matter is as the name suggests matter that is dark, not black in colour as that would be black matter, pure darkness. It’s created though the alchemical process of condensing various types of darkness, the night sky and the dusty silent oppressive gloom of the grave for example. Binding it to a vial you spend decades to form the matter drawing in the darkness and condensing it forming it into something tangible. Of course even for a master alchemist it takes a decade to distil even an ounce of dark matter. But then not every master alchemist is also a brilliant genius of a scientist.

Hence my use of a chronal accelerator or three to create pockets of accelerated time where ten years pass in a single day. Of course entering one of these bubbles of time would kill most normal humans as between one step and the next they dehydrate and die of thirst. Still even though I placed them in locations that are seldom visited by humans, one can’t make am omelette with out breaking a few eggs. Unfortunately tampering with the time stream is something Arachnos keep a close eye out for, and so it was that upon returning from some pitiful act of villainy (Stealing a shipment of MMO time cards to sell on to companies in Asia, it was an easy way to make a few hundred dollars) that I discovered I was no longer hidden from the site of Arachnos.

As usual I returned to my darkened basement lab, turning on the TV and starting the shower running before turning on the lights. Don’t ask me why I have these habits perhaps they are merely born of the quirky nature of being a super genius, of having the ability to look at the universe and understand and truly understand how it works. Still habits are hard to kill and until now this particular one hasn’t seemed worth the effort so I’ll let it stay, call it a personality point or something.

But as always I digress, so there I am the TV playing away to itself casting dancing shadows around the apartment as it changed from scene to scene, the shower slowly heating to the appropriate temperature, and slowly I become aware of a presence. Now as I’ve stated before every single one of my senses have been enhanced to way beyond the level of even a peak human so to be able to conceal his presence from me for this long I was not dealing with any ordinary foe.

Turning I saw sat on my rather comfortable reading chair a figure dressed in the armour of an Arachnos Huntsman.

“My my you have been sloppy” he said
“I take it you have reason for your intrusion.” I replied barely managing to keep my cool

Careless? Careless? I should of atomised him and damned the consequences.

But still I had too in part agree, my impatience to master the power of dark matter had driven me to this confrontation, I would have to be more careful after all a genius can catch up with a super genius when he’s having a bad day.

The rustling of pages quietened by anger I off course recognised that had this very leather bound volume in his grasp. It was then I began considering my actions, having prepared for the shower he had seen the face that lies below my armoured form and what is more having red my journal he knew of actions I’d preformed against Arachnos, actions that would have me hunted down.

But no rather than order my death and there in the small room receive his own in exchange, he offered me a job, I say offered but there was no real bargaining in the offer, he had me over a metaphorical barrel and what’s more he knew it. Still the offer of resources and work space was fortuitous as I was rapidly reaching the limits of what could be adapted from radio shack technology, and all that it would cost me was a “modicum of loyalty” to this huntsman.

We will see how long my goals align with those of Arachnos and those of this Commander Varrick.

After all this world is a very dangerous place no telling when you may accidentally get your self tragically vaporised.

Chapter Nine. Daring Deeds

Paragon city illustrious jewel in the crown of the United States, some people would say it’s the safest place on Earth others the most dangerous city in the world. For people such as myself it is definitely the latter, but what daring deeds would bring me to a city crawling with the type of people who live to take people like me down?

Assassination?
No

Planting mind control devices to drive the city into a frenzy of violence?
No

Holding the city to ransom in fear that I use my reverse gender ray on its citizens?
No

What brought me to this place were orders from that despicable little man Varrick. I was to come here to the homeland of so called heroes defeat one and take their cape back to the Rogue Islands, the methods and time frame would be of my choosing but of course I could not return to the Rogue Islands until I had completed the task.

“A test of your abilities” he’d called it.

Bah a task like this, as if it could test my abilities. Still it gave me an excuse to be away when no doubt he was viciously mauled and stung to death by the unfortunate escape of the Velcoa- Apoidea a delicious creature combining both dinosaur and bee DNA. I wondered if he’d even figure out that the pollen I had dusted him with in passing was what drew the creature to him. But I digress.

My plan was simple, I spent two days touring the various fast food restaurants of Paragon City and in each one I placed a micro-bomb a tiny highly packed explosive device barely bigger than a pin, smoke devices of course as other than Varrick I had no plans of causing fatalities. I dread to think what the shear amount of fried chicken and reclaimed meat would of done to a person of normal physiology, I made sure to change my appearance from place to place, master of disguise is just one of my many talents. Super genius remember?

The plan was simple I’d already picked chosen the hero I was to trounce some little no body who protected one neighbour hood with a zealots fury, what possessed a man to dress in tights and declare a few blocks of the city a no-crime zone I do not know. Some personal tragedy perhaps.

Still it matters not his reasons this neighbour hood provided the required twenty three point five seconds delay between emergency medi-port and response from the PP-D. So I waited there mentally counting down until the wave of smoke bombs would break out across the city, at that moment I struck costumed armour covering my body as I brandished a recently purchased crow bar.
Now normally I am against such low brow displays of strength but I needed response and fast taking the crow bar I rapidly smashed a few store windows, a car or two and a bus shelter, with surprising speed a staff like object knocked the bar from my hands, dropping to the pavement was the local hero from the way he moved I estimated he’d had a lot of martial arts training. No doubt the one and only master of some exotic form of kung fu or ninjitsu.

“Oh did I wake you?” I quipped

He didn’t reply no doubt the serious quiet type, always thinking about the tragedy that created him, made him dedicate his life to protecting others.

We fought there a few quick kicks and punches traded testing each others limits, I outmatched him easily, after all he’s only human while I am, well me!

It was simple to remove his cape in passing.

“What?” his voice was deeper than it should have been given his build and ethnicity obviously an act used to scare criminals.

“Oh when you get to the hospital tell them to put it on Baron Eternity’s tab!” I said clicking a panel on my belt.

The trash and discarded boxes in the alleyways moved as my Witless Minions powered up, laser fire criss-crossed through my opponents body as they cut him down, his body faded as the emergency medi-port dragged him to safety. The next stage of the plan was simple I tossed down a large scale smoke bomb and slunked into the alleyways as the street filled with a clinging black smog, my armour shifted form and I was standing in street clothes like any normal citizen of Paragon City. While I was doing this my minions had ripped open a man hole cover and dived in to the sewer below, let them think I had escaped down there.

I practised my best gawking look as police cars roared down the streets, no doubt they had figured that the bombings across the city were no more than a malicious prank. Cape rolled up in my pocket I headed into to the more built up areas of the city, there were still hours to pass before my ride back to the Rogue Islands was set to leave, ideally I wondered if any of the fast food restaurants would be open the demon hot sauce wings weren’t that bad really.

I returned to the base of the Dusk Spiders to discover a bustle of activity while not expecting it to be empty I had expected a certain lowering of activity levels after the demise of Varrick. Soon I was called to the commanding officers quarters and there sat behind a desk was Varrick with that intolerable smug smirk on his face.

“I see you’ve returned and successfully too.” He said fingers folded ad arms resting on the desk.

God how I hate this man, one of these days I’ll rub that smile off his face even if I have to launch him into the sun to do so.

“Oh incidentally it appears a strange creature entered the air ducts and tragically killed a pair of my fellow Commanders.” He smiled a little too knowingly for my liking

“I have commandeered their troops and added them to the Dusk Spiders, quicker than waiting for replacements to be trained up” again the knowing smirk.

I swear one of these days I will kill that man.

Chapter Ten. That Despicable Little Scum Of A Man, Varrick, And His Army Of Cretins And Gene Pool Rejects. Also Known As The Dusk Spiders.

Varrick there is no way he is just human, I suspect that he is perhaps part cockroach, he is proving quite stubborn to kill. My first attempt was the Velcoa-Apoidea yet some how he managed to avoid being slain by the beast, instead it slew several other commanders allowing him to increase the man power of the Dusk Spiders . My second attempt again proved unsuccessful, a captured council Warwolf provided one half of the DNA, skin samples from Varricks office provided the other half, of course the creature escaped and attacked an Arbiter. However when they tested the DNA left at the scene, it pointed to a soldier who had deserted the Dusk Spiders, this poor soldier was executed in Varricks place.

I abandoned the notion of growing something to kill him and instead went for purely technological means, gun drones were my first attempt, programmed to hunt down and snipe him, their AI some how became corrupted (I have of course my suspicions of the cause), and at a key moment they provided him with support fire. Annoyed but not defeated I attached a temporal bomb to the back of his helmet, deployed from a pea shooter and invisible to the naked eye, there should have been no way for him to detect its presence. Yet some how once again, my attempt on his life proved useful to him, attacked by a Longbow soldier with super strength his helmet was knocked off prior to the bomb detonating, of course some how the bomb took out the meta-human law enforcer instead of that cockroach Varrick.

At this point a lesser man would of given up, decided Varrick was unkillable, gotten used to being used like some sort of science monkey!

But not I!

As always I am a SUPER GENIUS!

To think some little **** of a soldier would cow me?

Laughable.

But I shall digress for now, as I’m getting quite angry and this is the forth pen I have broken in rage.

Instead by dear slave, ahem dear reader let me tell you of my machines. While indeed I am a super genius and thus given time there is nothing I can not do, I still only have a single pair of hands and no desire to grow extra pairs. So I created tools three tiers of robots. The first tier are merely tools to be used and abandoned, bullet shields and devices for delaying my enemies, much like Varrick’s cretins that joined the Dusk Spiders; these witless minions exist purely to deal with things below my notice. More advanced and with a true purpose are the Bulwark series, as the name suggests to the more intelligent of my readers they are there to protect. Equipped with force fields and pre-programmed repair nanites they ensure that the witless minions continue to function. Finally we have the mighty Titanos, equipped with the equivalent fire power of three of Varrick’s idiot squads, it exists only to destroy those targets out of the league of the minion series.

Now you may be asking “Glorious leader, what of EMP?” aren’t you the smart one, fell good about your self, but not too good, your smart but not as smart as me, try harder.

Given the ease of availability of EMP technology and even more so, the sheer amount of electrically gifted meta-humans, standard robot design would have been silly.

Worse still it would have been stupid.

Hence creation of the control matrix, a simple dark matter encased electronic brain, simply solving the problem of protecting the robots AI by not being part of the robot at all, this wrist mounted device limits the amount of machines I could use in combat.

Still five robots are better than no robots and two hundred fried machines after an EMP strike. Eventually they will be joined by my Dark Matter Golem and nothing will be able to stop them.

But back to Varrick, by the way the name Varrick will be banned upon my rise to power, you will get one chance to change your name, after that every person I find with that name will be fired directly into the sun.

You have been warned.

Any way my next attempt once again became unsuccessful, remembering my work for Mathew Burke I employed a similar tactic as his. Where he would simply monitor the Arachnos flyers, holding the threat of identifying them to Longbow as his ole means of protection, I would simply make Varrick’s personal flyer the equivalent of a bulls eye.

Death or incarceration either would get him out of my hair.

Yet once again things did not go as planned, this time the flyer was taken by troops disloyal to Varrick, almost shot down by Longbow they seem to be towing the line now.

Sooner or later I will see him die.

I shall not be played as a fool for long.

For I am Baron Eternity and no man matches my intellect, my style, my grace or my general incredibleness.

Particularly not a cockroach like Varrick.

((Warning slightly more adult themed than the other chapters.))

Chapter Eleven. The Calm before the storm.

Perhaps I am no longer the man my farther raised, or perhaps even I seek to release stress through carnal acts. Stress that all stems from one point, Varrick, or to be more precise the fool hardy venture he has decided will be our next mission. They call it, or more precisely they call them, The Battle Unit Omega, a machine hive mind, much like an insect colony, many bodies but one overall controlling mind, however unlike insects, these ants weigh close to two tonnes and are constructed out of an impervium alloy.

Bah!

Apparently these machines were the cause of Varricks rise to commander position, having destroyed the previous Dusk Spider troops, commander and all.

Perhaps he is trying to prove a point to Arbiter Deus?

It matters not, I have already spotted a way to destroy these mechanical soldiers, perhaps I will even share it with those Dusk Spiders I wish to live.

Perhaps not.

On a side note how does he do it?

I acquired a little charm from a ‘friend’, a lovely little stone that when charged draws the forces of the undead to a spot. Not the particularly powerful undead, ancient vampire counts demi-liches and so on, but a veritable horde of the lesser ranked undead none the less. Particularly problematic wouldn’t you say if they were drawn to Arachnos base where the defence systems had accidentally, failed.

But at the moment the charm became active, the defences fell, the base was attacked by Longbow forces. No doubt startled by our lack of active defence systems, they proceeded with caution and were promptly the ones to take on the assault of the undead.

For hours they bravely fought the undead, as wave after wave of re-animated corpses assaulted them, finally wounded, ammunition spent and exhausted the Longbow troops were spared as the energies of the charm dissipated, the carved stone crumbling to dust. Victory was theirs.

Until of course I reactivated the bases defences and watched as the brave Longbow troops were cut down by plasma bolts. Apparently the whole operation is now classified as proof of the Dusk Spider’s tactical skills.

Ah but where was I?

Oh yes of course stress and carnal release.

The differencing conditions of my home Earth to this one has lead to certain differences in what is socially acceptable. Even timeless things such as religious dogma, was forced to change by the sheer instability of the new world, among them what is regarded as sin.

The religion I was raised to follow states that to lay with a woman before marriage is acceptable as long as there is love between you. This I believe was changed from the old scriptures, simply because so many people died and priests were so rare who would perform the marriages?

But still despite my fathers teachings I have become sinful, I have hurt others for simple pleasure, drank my self to the point where even my great mind can not recall events, and drowned my self in decadent acts of the flesh.

I have whispered sweet nothing into the ears of a woman, whose flesh emits lightning, lied to her, been as charming as the Snake in Eden. All for the pleasure of feeling the power coursing from her lips, the blazing energy searing my flesh, the feeling of my heart stopping and starting with each coursing surge of energy.

I have been the slave of my lesser, felt their displeasure their whips and knives cutting my flesh, burning my body in their pleasure or displeasure. I have stood silently as they carved their names into my quivering flesh, and rejoiced at the power as I did the same to others.

I have found myself with a slave, and had her performs acts of degradation just to test how far her loyalties lie, even as she claims each time she was made for me, I find myself wondering, was I always this way or has the situation changed me?

All this I do to escape, to drown out the knowledge, that despite my intellect, my power, despite the fact that I have stared into the faces of Gods unflinching, and spat directly into the eyes of eldritch beings, bending both to my will and whim. Despite all this I have a master, a man who forces me to do his will.

Varrick

But even as the pain and pleasure, fades from my body, I know so too will his hold over me be broken.

He is but a man and I?

I am a timeless hero, a demi-god, a living legend.

Soon Varrick.

Soon it will be I controlling your fate.

You had best hope I reclaim my good humour before then.

Chapter Twelve. The Womb of Invention.

Many people would say there is a thin line between genius and madness. They are wrong there is no line, madness is simply a force like gravity, genius is like a blazing star in the sky.

A man reaches for it to claim it as his own, if has the will, the strength of mind and the intelligence to do so he grasps the star in the palm of his hand and claims it as his own, like I have done. If not madness pulls him down, to lie wretched and broken among those too weak willed to even dream of achieving greatness.

Myself I use star after star as handholds, climbing ever higher, leaving the ignorant chimps suck as Varrick and Deus behind. Sometimes I meet some one worthy on my ascension, Walter Steamworth for example, he climbs to towards a different goal, for now his goal doesn't endanger my own so I have no need, to destroy his grip. I wonder will he climb high enough through the star field of genius to archive his goal, or will madness send him tumbling into failure?

I wonder if Wrail, realises yet?

Realises that he has descended into sadist madness, wonder if he realises he has sealed his fate, along with Varrick he will be one I end for the greater good of mankind, in his case it will be no more than putting down a rabid dog.

Deus.... Deus I will let live, it is only the fault of her sex that she is so unsuited for command, so whimsical and emotional in her actions, perhaps I will topple recluse and have her demoted to the catering core. It would be an amusing end.

Or perhaps I will have her mind broken and giver her to the immortal Chrissie that seems to be hanging around all the time, she deserves some reward for cheering me up so much. Truly, she is like a brilliant comedic stage show, laughter and songs a little razzmatazz in an other wise dreary month.

Talking of dreary I attended a conference hosted by Crey, interesting things were learned, though how they claim the Paragon Protectors are just hired help, with a straight face.... I will never know. Where was I ah yes the conference it self was dreary and they lacked quiche!

HOW CAN YOU HAVE A DAMN BUFFET WITHOUT QUICHE!

Remember that dear readers, there must be quiche at any buffet I attend, how can you claim it's a buffet with out quiche?

You can't, it's impossible and I'll have you fired into the sun if you do so!

Oh despite the hosts lack of understanding of what makes a buffet, perhaps I will beat the understanding into him at some point.....

Despite that I discovered something interesting, really they shouldn't have Wi-fi systems active in their labs during a conference, something that interested me so much I took it. Blood samples from an incarnate....

A man or possibly woman, or possibly a mixture of both in fact with divine power, if this power could turn a normal person into a demi-god, imagine what it could do to some one as fantastic as me!
What's that dear reader, I couldn't possibly get any more fantastic than I already was?

Oh how sweat.

But enhance me it did, really Crey something so valuable and you only keep it held within a quad state quantum lock?

Really now, that was insulting easy to pick.

I can feel the new power burning inside my veins even now, my strength has become even further enhanced, I can knock bullets away with ease, and have gained the ability to shape the world around me with limited affect to my desire, not bad for eight minutes work.

I returned from the conference with power burning through my very DNA, and a present for my little kitten slave, nothing fancy just one of those amusingly sloganed T-shirts they sell at such events. Diamonds, pearls, a toasted sandwich maker?

These things she could have gotten her self, besides I wanted to see her reaction.... I suspect she is not as dedicated to me as she claims, her creator engineered her to be. Still it is nice to have a warm bed to go back to....

It is also nice to know that said bed does not contain a crocodile....

A joke on my part that seems to have gotten out of hand.

Informing Varrick that I was the immortal Peter Pan to his Captain Hook, I decided to also provide him with the ticking crocodile. For it's size I chose Crocodylus porosus also known as a Saltwater crocodile, particularly an example of the Indian kind, that had been living in a local zoo.

Borrowing it I force fed it a clock and left it in, Varricks office.

From which it promptly escaped.

Bah!, even the so called elite of Arachnos can not capture the beast, it roams the base stealing peoples food, Deus does not seem to be that happy.

Others view it with a certain level of acceptance, after a new recruit revealed himself to be a Longbow Operative.

His cry of “Halt Arachnos Scum!” was cut off as the crocodile dived on him, it's bulk dragging him behind some power terminals, as we rounded on him we discovered the beast had gone, along with one of the Longbow Spies legs.

Still perhaps Deus will order it's capture, or perhaps it will be the units mascot no?

Either way I don't care, it isn't like.....

ARGGHGGHH it has taken my sandwich!

No no delete that bit!

Bloody speech recognition software, I'm going back to using pen and paper, Varrickette I demand another sandwich!

End program!

Chapter Thirteen. Recourse?

It has been awhile, since last I wrote, I could lie and say I was simply, too busy to write down my thoughts. But I shall not, I have not written anything down because I have been afraid, afraid that in thinking what to write, the memories would destroy my mind.

I am writing this with, a terrible headache, I have turned to drink to escape, the memory, the sight of her pale eyes...

It all started, when Varrick that thrice cursed piece of effulgence, announced that the Dusk Spiders, would be dealing with a terrorist cell, named the Terra Liberation Front, they believe among other things that strength, is the only thing man needs. Divided around the world, each cell lead by, well, the term meta-human should suffice, in describing the cells leaders. The cell we were to target was lead by a being known as Battle Unit Omega, I say a being but in fact it would be closer to a colony, dozens maybe even close to a hundred machine bodies, their AI making up one singular mind.

It's not the deaths of the terrorist soldiers, that causes my mind to tremble, my hand to reach for a glass and my body to crave drunken oblivion. They chose their fate, trained, killed and were willing to die for their cause. No the, event that may have broken my will, that comes later.

We had arrived, at what appeared to be a ware house, I say appeared, most ware houses don't have an underground bunker complex below them. The soldiers put up a decent defense, but against a heavily armed force such as the Dusk Spiders, they had no real chance. Explosions sounded from the second assault force, 'so much for stealth' I remember thinking as we entered the wrecked ware house.

An elevator brought us to our goal, some where here would be a database, not only information stolen from Arachnos, but information from the US government, data on registered 'mutant' heroes, of course there were defences, flame throwers melted Arachnos armour, missile fire broke bones and lives.

Then came the machines vast metallic ogres, they ploughed into our forces, tearing crushing, ending lives with thrusts of metal hands. Not that our troops didn't have some success, rocket and laser fire concentrated by squads would bring a machine down, only for another to take its place. Our forces had what the machines lacked, great inventive minds backing them up. The machines were steam powered, they fell quickly before the power of the Absolute Zero Ray, I won't bore you with the mechanics, this is a journal not a technicians hand book, let us just say it involves dead energy dimensions and portals and leave it at that.

The machines hacked into our coms, classic tactics, disrupt our communication and yes, use propaganda to break our spirits. Despite the machine urgings, none ran, to run from this mission would mean the soldiers certain death, the machines offered uncertain death. What happened next, I will never forgive Varrick for, I will focus all my will, all my intellect on making sure he pays for this.

“Information retrieved, sending data to Baron Eternity” his voice rang across the communicator.

As one the machines surged at me, ignoring the other troops they had but one goal in mind, myself, I responded with blasts of the ray, the machines exploded as steam became ice ripping their frames apart. But it wasn't enough, I unleashed dark matter, blinding, grasping, it covered my escape, the elevator was not fast enough, a burst of energy melted through it, I tore though the ware house at break neck speeds.

It was enough to escape the machines, almost enough, a singular target still pursued me, smaller than the other machines we had classified it, as a support machine. It matched my course and then, opened fire, flames cut off my escape, the shots curved pursued me even as the small machine did.

I headed for the ocean, desperately summoning the support of my robots, they appeared jets taking up the slack as they teleported in. I turned to confront my pursuer.

“Statement: Accept: Destruction: Arachnos Scum” it's digital voice announced

“I think not!” I clicked my fingers

My machines opened fire, and then the impossible happened, laser bent, plasma shifted, rockets tumbled into the ocean. It became clear to me, the machine could manipulate kinetic fields, it wasn't hitting me with fire, but with the equivalent of a rail cannon.

“Unwieldy” the machine retorted as it gunned down one of my machines

“Cursed” mighty Titanus fell smouldering into the ocean.

“Useless” a third fell

One of my robots rose behind it, utilising it's final attack protocol it enfolded the smaller machine in its steel grip.

“Booby trapped” I supplied as the my machine overloaded, detonated, engulfing my pursuer in a rose of flame.

I felt relief, but it was unfounded as the smoke cleared, the pursuer floated, then it's helmet broke, a child stared at me with cold hatred, a young girl no older than ten. I felt bile rise into my throat, what evil could do this to an innocent, that moment of weakness nearly proved fatal, the girls cannons barked, flame slammed into my armour, ribs broke.

Reacting on pre-coded responses, my machines urged forward clustering around the girl, overloading, detonating, destroying The instant the flame touched her, emotions seemed to flood into her staring eyes. That is what keeps me from sleeping, tortures my dreams, drowns my thought and crushes my will.

Fear, fear that she became self aware again, just before I killed her.

I swore I'd stain my soul, if it got me my goal, but not this, not killing a child.

I'm surrounded by monsters, who can I turn to before I become one myself?

I will have to pay for this some how, once my goals are complete, I'll have to make it up to her some how, even if it means not seeing the new world.

My hands are shaking, I need a drink.

Chapter Fourteen. Resolution

It has been a while dear readers.

For myself that is, no doubt you, with baited breath and trembling fingers have rushed on from the last chapter to this one. Quite the eager beavers aren't you?

That I am still writing this and that you are even reading it is all down to one man, Walter, I am some what ashamed to admit it but after that harrowing event over the seas, I became a louse, a drunk and worse still a failure.

It was Walter who reminded me, it is not the nature of men such as we to cower defeated before life, to curl up fetal and mewl at the unfairness of the universe. No, men such as we chain suns for batteries and batter the very rules of reality with the bloody knuckles of scientific inquiry and then as it lies bleeding and wailing before us we make it dance to our tune.

They say you can't change the past, they are of course so very wrong.

They say that death see the fall of every sparrow, perhaps he does, but that does not mean a mind inventive enough can steal the prize from his bony grasp.

So I did, no longer have I killed an innocent, nay in fact she seems quite well, she's decided that I am now here new farther and like a dutiful daughter she shares my dislike of Varrick, she is quite bright for her age to see through his façade.

I must say if there was to be a form of fruit within my eyes she would be it, despite the hardship of her life she burns with the same fire as Walter or indeed myself, I should start teaching her how to rule after all one day she will inherit the Earth.

The Dusk Spiders continue as always, recruits join, they fight, they die and are replaced, some few survive, never it seems the pleasant or mentally sound ones, the natural cunningness of the insane perhaps, useful but so very irritating. I swear if that cretin offers me another sandwich, I will strangle him with his own eyelids.

The crocodile it seems has sampled some of his sandwiches, I am assuming that is where it developed its ability to breathe fire from.

Frankly some people should not be allowed in a lab, or indeed it seems a kitchen.

Speaking of kitchens I wonder why Arbiter Deus seemed so keen on acquiring the transgender bomb?

Frankly it was a laughable piece of tomfoolery I came up with while completely out of head on the Rogue Islands finest spirits, it was an amusing night however and I'm sure it allowed several of the soldiers to get in touch with their feminine sides.

Touching with their grubby little hands no doubt.

I have some thing big planned, something in the none ray and none explosive method of conquest, something to have the world dancing like puppets in my grasp.

What? Oh of course dear, I'll bring you a glass right away

Now where was I oh yes, let us just leave it at the name Hammond for now.

My loyal little subjects surely you can guess what the plan became, after all it's the reason you're reading this journal.

End Program

I <3 Baron Eternity. When he comes to powers I'd be glad to say I had voted for him!

Not that my vote mattered, because he was clearly well set up that the actual pens to paper made no difference but it's the thought that counts.