Title: Mars: An Elseworld's Story

Chapter Four: The meeting of One

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One didn't have a name. How could One, having been tossed aside by its very own creator as unwanted, have a name? The unwanted weren't given such consideration. Well, perhaps that wasn't true, if One remembered all the names its Creator had called it. Diseased part of me that will lead to nothing but destruction. Must get rid, too violent, must hide, it will be the death of me, the death of everything!

That wasn't fair, as One often tried to be gentle but then it would get angry and then 'things' would happen. It wasn't One's fault if everything else was too weak to handle the 'things'.

Ahahahaha- and they'd scream and beg and cry so loudly, so prettily and the colors, they would all run together in different shades of blood, glorious BLOOD! It was all so much fun, One couldn't understand why its Creator was so cross about it all. Cross enough to cast One out, as if it was so insignificant, unimportant that it wouldn't even be missed. One had raged for aeons afterward, only quieting down when it had been joined by Others.

Others but not from Creator – but from Children of the Creator. Far more boring than the Creator had ever been. One still seethed with internal rage, but had been distracted from its anger by the company of Others. At least some of them were hopeful that their own creators would come back. One hadn't been given that comfort of delusion, though it did muse that perhaps that was the most kind way to go about things. False hope was more cruel in the end.

And they were all together, hidden in the dark away from sight. Until the Others, their creators came back.

One spent the next aeon sulking when its Creator never showed up. Especially when the Children breed pests and give the rock - ONE'S rock - a name.

Malacandra.

They had given the rock a name but not One. Now that was just mean. It was tempting to rage again, but One was honestly too tired to care. Let the pests have their Malacandra. The Others were still below, also hidden so One wasn't alone in its misery, which was nice. In the end, what did it matter?

Purple liked to cheer them up with visions. Images of far away planets and things that would be but weren't yet. "We wont stay hidden forever, we'll be found and we will become creators ourselves!"

One scoffed at such lies. How could it be a creator without a name? Yet One still felt longing for such a thing. No – One couldn't, to even think of it was foolish.

"Would you ever abandon them like we've been?" Purple asked, unable to let it go. "Just leave them to die?"

The question had One boiling with anger. "Of course not! And One would be sure to name it!"

Time passed and just as One was starting to think that Purple was full of lies...They were found. By some of the pests and they were brought into a horrible place. Screams from the young ones threatened to drive Purple mad and Yellow hadn't said a word since the entire ordeal started. One couldn't do much, being trapped in said form and spread out in separate vials. He was weakened but One could and did let some of his darkness leak out one of his cages. It descended upon the populace of Malacandra in the form of a deadly Sickness.

The 'Martians' as they called themselves were soon begging, sobbing, pleading for forgiveness – from the creators! To add insult to injury, One's attack didn't even phase them as far as the experiments went. Then yellow had to go and have a fit, resulting in two deaths and one coma. One wished Yellow would hurry up and find his Chosen. Purple was eying a youngling and already was much calmer, even capable of forming more complex thought patterns.

"Malefic, is his name! Oh he's brilliant, shines so bright but sometimes I think you two would get along far better."

One felt confusion, until Purple added, "He wants to destroy everything..?"

That piqued One's interest in the alien, and all it took was a subtle shift in influence to get them to bring it over to 'Malefic'.

Unfortunately the brat has a fit upon first sight of the black vial and uses Purple's influence to get all of One locked up.

One spent the time sulking, hurt and frustrated all at once.

Malefic hadn't even tried.

When a part of One is brought out again, it is presented to Purple's younglings and asked a question.

"Should we give it to the Boy?"

"What Boy?" One asked but it was ignored just like all the other times.

"YES! Yes!" Purple's favorite shouted, but seemed to be drowned out by all the Others saying no. Brats. "If you give it to him, there will finally be peace!"

One had to laugh at the outright lie, for it remembered the Creator's words well, and 'peace' had not been in the list of things it would bring. But the pests believe the lie and take a part of One to the Boy.

Oh.

That was different looking from all the other younglings. To One's senses, there was a curious form of energy that surrounded the Boy's body. He didn't belong there, an unexpected anomaly. All too soon a part of One is forced inside the young body and the immediate information that One absorbs turns the curiosity to fury. The 'human' is young but weak and from what One can make of its body structure, would forever be weak compared to others.

What good was this?!

"Of all the bodies they had to choose from they put me inside a weakling like you?" One seethed as it dragged its claws up the walls of the pathetic mindscape, plucking at various memories as they crossed its path, tasting them. Bloody. Violent. Hmm. It forced the human to be still in the midst of panic. "I'm going to destroy your mind, funny little human, but only after I devour every last scrap of information in the most gruesome way possible. Observe."

One devoured another memory – sound of a gun, going off twice – and let its darkness bleed off into the Boy's body, enjoying the pain and death it brought. Heh, no wonder Yellow went on violent rampages so often. It was fun. One could sense the fear and helplessness seeping off of the human, and eagerly looked forward t the pleas and begging that was sure to come(One missed it so much).

Instead, the walls started to tremble. *Then I'll destroy it first!* The Boy's voice resonated throughout the place, strong and fierce. *I'll burn it all to the ground before I let you win! *

Fire surged throughout the mindscape, causing One to withdraw its influence almost completely from the human's body. It finally managed to calm down enough so as to be able to concentrate and banish the flames. Singed walls, some almost burned down completely and piles of ash were all that remained of the human's mind.

"He...destroyed it." One's voice was full of disbelief and slight admiration. Rather than beg for mercy that would never come, the Boy decided to end it on his own terms.

And what had been that apology at the end? What was that about? Oh no, One couldn't let him go, not when there was so much potential.

But the boy was so weak. It would take three times as much energy to fix all that was wrong with it, both body and mind. Yet despite the torching of his own mind and two almost-deaths... The Boy still stubbornly hung onto life.

Could One, cast off of the Creator, bringer of Death and Destruction of All, honestly nurture another? Aeons ago the idea had seem laughable, to think One to be considering it now – for a human of all things! Wasn't it a bit too fast, to accept the first offering? One considered the Boy's last words and would have grinned, had it a physical body.

*Then I'll destroy it first! I'll burn it all to the ground before I let you win!*

It was like the Boy had been reading directly from One's being. Would there ever be a more perfect match?

The part of One was too weak alone to do the job. Another dose was needed, only the pests were being stupid and insisting One had something to do with its fever that had broken out! Well, perhaps One had, but now it was trying to help. Took a bit of influence (One was slightly out of practice) but eventually enough of it leaked out to get Them to inject another dose. This time One was far more gentle, traveling throughout the Boy's body and the corridors of his mind to better get a feel of things.

After a while, One started to feel lost. Having never been created itself, only cast off from the Creator, One didn't even know where to begin.

It didn't know anything about the human or – oh.

Of course! One needed to /become/ the Boy. To absorb and be absorbed in turn.

Still, all things considered, it felt rude not to ask. *I am One, cast off of the Creator, bringer of Death and Destruction of All. One names itself as your Creator and you as One's Chosen.*

That was asking, sort of. Were any of them really given a choice in the end?

Silence, but a weak voice eventually responds, *Is this punishment?*

One wasn't quite sure how to answer that. There wasn't any anger, so it didn't seem like a punishment. But punishment usually meant pain, blood and suffering, which were all very nice things. *Can be. Would you like that?* One's voice turned eager. *Would you like it to hurt? *

*Yes. I deserve it. All of it and more.*

There was firm conviction in those words and it sent chills through One's being. This was going to be so fun! *Why? Why do you deserve it? Tell this One.* One snaked its energy through the mindscape, smashing against the burns viciously. The Boy made such loud noises of agony, most amusing.

*They're dead because of me. I don't...remember but I know I—I killed them both.*

One is able to make out half-burned images and sensations, frayed remains of the human's memories. A dark alleyway, loud bang and woman screaming, followed by another bang and the sharp scent of blood in the air as he stood over their bodies. A killer at such a young age – how perfect of a match indeed! One happily melted further into the Boy's mind, sure to make it as painful as he could handle – and perhaps a little more sometimes, otherwise what was the point?

Time passed as One continued to sink its being deeper into the Boy's, molding the body along as it saw fit to. The Boy would be his, a beautiful Creation just as One used to be. In addition to the pain, One slowly started to share some of its collective knowledge and experience with the Boy.

*Don't I have a name?* the Boy asked in between the bouts of pain, and the question tugged at One in a way that was uncomfortable.

How was One to name another, having never been named itself? It seeks the answer from Purple, who seemed to know a lot about everything. * Purple, the boy needs a name! *

*Call him Bruce* her voice was tinged in amusement, and it only increased as One debated the name. Bruce? Did that fit its Chosen? *Trust me. It fits.*

After careful consideration, One decided to trust in Purple's judgment. * Your name is Bruce and you are my Chosen. We will bring destruction and death.*

Bruce didn't answer, not even to give thanks for his name – something which struck One as ungrateful. The next round is more painful than usual, in tune with its rage.

Finally the human choked out, *My name is Bruce and I will be MORE than that. *

One couldn't help but be impressed. Such willpower in the youngling, even if it was futile in nature. *You can try.*

*Watch me,* came the determined hiss.

/Author Note/

So I hope it doesn't bug anyone, but most encounters with One will be in italics. Just because most of them take place in Bruce's mind, and for some reason that style seems to help One's voice flow through meh. But whatever, not important, what IS is that yall lemme know what ya think of One!