Hitman with a Badass System

Looking at Michael, Dagon greeted Michael with a smile that was both charming and devilish.

"Michael," he said, acknowledging him by name. Hearing his real name spoken aloud made Michael feel weird. Besides Gaya and now Dagon, he was accustomed to being known as Ghost or The Dark Lord.

Though his intended target, Torug, had been effortlessly eliminated by Dagon, Michael kept his composure. "What brings you here?" he inquired, curiosity laced in his tone. "Is this your physical form, or some sort of manifestation?" Aware of Dagon's banishment and the restrictions it imposed, the sight of him in this realm underscored the depth of his power.

Dagon's chuckle broke the silence. "It's a manifestation," he admitted, "but pulling this off is harder than it looks. It took a lot of worship energy." Michael, while not vocalizing it, recognized the significance of Dagon's presence, sensing an underlying motive.

As if on cue, Dagon addressed the unspoken thought. "I'm here because I have some bad news for you, Michael. Since we're kind of allies, I thought you should be the first to know. Andohr is planning something big for the mortal realm, and it's going to be quite the spectacle."

"What's he planning now?" Michael couldn't help but feel a sense of dread curling in his stomach.

Dagon replied with unsettling calmness, "Remember how I mentioned Fourcrux is dabbling in bringing back your old favorite pet hydra? Well, Andohr's taken it a step further. He's managed to rebuild its body and is planning to unleash it in the mortal realm to lure you out."

Michael's frown deepened. Vedora's power and the havoc it could wreak were no secrets to him. Trying to mask his concern, he pressed. "How? Last I checked, Andohr was still trapped, unable to directly influence events."

"That's where you're wrong, Mikey," Dagon countered, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "The god of space and time is like a cockroach that survives anything. He's got more backup plans than a bear has hairs. But, I've heard that this stunt with the hydra will drain his soul energy and force him into a slumber. So, there's that at least."

"If you're right," Michael said, cutting to the chase, "then I need to stop Andohr." He didn't bother questioning how Dagon came by his information, knowing well that Dagon had his secrets, just as he had his own.

"Whatever you're thinking, drop it. If Andohr's going to such lengths to draw you out by sending Vedora to the mortal realm, he's definitely plotting something massive. Don't play into his hands," Dagon warned him.

Yet, Michael couldn't detach himself from the mortal realm. It wasn't just a battleground for him; it was where he first arrived from Earth, where he had made connections and friendships. The thought of Andohr bringing destruction to his adopted home was unacceptable. Regardless of the risks, Michael couldn't stand idly by while his realm faced peril.

"Not happening, Dagon. I've got too much at stake in the mortal realm, and I'm not about to sit back and watch it burn to the ground." Michael was resolute, his voice firm with determination.

"I'll go to the mortal realm, kick Andohr's ass, and deal with Vedora again if I have to." He confidently added.

Hearing Michael, Dagin sighed as his sigh slowly morphed into a chuckle.

"You're one stubborn bastard, you know that? But don't come crying to me when you realize you've played right into Andohr's hands. I've got my own shit to deal with, and thanks to your little stunt killing Rainar, the whole pantheon is on high alert. They're gearing up to throw everything they've got to find you. So, whether you're in the realm of the gods or the mortal realm, you're pretty much fucked either way." said Dagon.

As Michael observed Dagon's actions, he sensed an unfamiliar surge of anger within himself, an emotion that seemed misplaced given his usual indifference toward Dagon. It wasn't personal resentment he was feeling, but rather a profound, instinctual response emanating from deep within him, connected to his primordial dark flames.

While contemplating this newfound rage, Dagon produced a crystal from his search, holding within it dark tendrils that were eerily motionless. Upon closer inspection, Michael realized they weren't just any tendrils but frozen dark flames. Unknown to Michael, Dagon possessed the hell flames which held a deep-rooted animosity toward these dark flames, a sentiment stemming from an ancient rivalry between these sentient primordial forces.

Dagon, seemingly oblivious to Michael's internal revelations, presented the crystal to him. "Before I forget, I grabbed this from one of Marli's outposts. You dealing with her saved me from her annoying antics, though I had to take care of her pets," he explained. "Take this; it should help in the mortal realm, but remember, you owe me a big one."

Catching the crystal thrown at him, Michael nodded in acknowledgment as he felt grateful that he could upgrade the dark flames sooner than he anticipated.

"And don't lose track of your pet dragon in all this chaos, Mikey. Hell changes a soul, more than you can fathom." Dagon, with a parting reminder, added. With these cryptic words, he vanished as swiftly as he had appeared, leaving Michael alone with the frozen dark flames and the lingering thought of Nightmare, the pet dragon he could not forget.

After Dagon vanished into the ether, Michael, left in the silent ruins, turned his attention to the crystal containing the frozen dark flames. With a decisive motion, he crushed the icy exterior, releasing the entrapped essence. As the dark flames melded with his own, the air around him sparked with energy.

The dark flames, now free, flared violently around Michael, tendrils of pure dark energy shooting from his body, writhing and twisting in the air. The fusion of these primordial forces was not just a visual spectacle but a deeply visceral experience. Michael's entire being seemed to ignite, the dark flames searing through his soul, testing his endurance.

Collapsing to the ground, he gritted his teeth against the overwhelming pain, hissing through clenched jaws. "Fuck, this burns through to the damn core!"

In the midst of his agony, he heard the system sound ring in his head.

[Congratulations, you have successfully upgraded the dark flames and collected 2 out of 5 dark flame essence.]

The pain was excruciating, but the achievement was clear. Michael, amid the torment, had taken a significant step in harnessing the full potential of his dark flames, enduring the soul-deep fire to emerge stronger and more powerful.

Suddenly, a growl, both deep and ancient, echoed within Michael's mind, vibrating with a primal urge. "Need to kill him," it intoned, sending shivers down Michael's spine. "System, was that you?" He quickly asked, taken aback by this unexpected intrusion.

[No…] The system's reply was prompt and to the point: Confused and on edge, Michael pressed further, "Then who the fuck was that?" Although deep down, he harbored a strong suspicion about the source of the voice.

[It was the dark flames. It has regained a piece of its sentience]." As expected, the system clarified.

This revelation sent Michael a wave of realization. The dark flames, a core aspect of his power, were not just a tool at his disposal but a living entity with its own consciousness and desires.

Michael, puzzled by the silence that followed his question, turned his attention back to the system, seeking clarity. "Do you know anything about this?" he asked, hoping for some insight into the cryptic message.

[No…] the system replied, leaving Michael feeling somewhat adrift in the situation.

Rolling his eyes, Michael couldn't help but remark sarcastically. "You're being very helpful, system." Despite the lack of answers, he knew he couldn't dwell on the mystery for too long.

Standing up, Michael recognized the urgency of preparing for his journey back to the mortal realm. And what better way to chart a course than seeking the counsel of Seshat, the goddess of wisdom? Her vast knowledge and insight would undoubtedly provide him with the way to return to the mortal realm.

But before he could head out, he had one more thing to do. With a sly smile, Michael surveyed the clones suspended in their tubular prisons, his gaze calculating. Raising his hand, he summoned the power of his newly upgraded dark flames, now more potent and menacing than before. The the ring of flames, erupted from his palm in waves of dark energy, thicker, more intense, and radiating a searing heat that filled the hall.

The effect was immediate and devastating. The clones, mere seconds before suspended in stasis, were engulfed by the ferocious inferno. In an instant, they were reduced to nothing, their existence erased by the overwhelming power of the dark flames.

But before the destructive wave completed its task, Michael, with precise control, severed an ear from one of the clones. This grisly trophy was quickly stowed in the system's storage, serving as concrete proof of his assassination of Torug's clone.

"Now this will do nicely,"

With the evidence secured and the immediate threat neutralized, Michael turned his attention to the larger issues at hand, preparing to seek out Seshat for wisdom on his impending return to the mortal realm.

As Michael prepared to exit the ruins, a sudden, intense pain gripped his head, causing him to curse out loud. "Fuck!" His vision blurred, then shifted to a deep red, as his mind was bombarded with system warnings.

The system's voice, urgent and invasive, rang through his head. [One of the host's subordinates is in mortal danger…] The alerts escalated, pressing him to act swiftly, [The system recommends the host to take immediate action, or the subordinate will die]

Caught off guard and with Dagon's forewarning echoing in his thoughts, Michael felt a surge of alarm. Just as he was about to spring into action, to possibly prevent the impending catastrophe, the flood of warnings ceased abruptly, replaced by a stark, final message. [The host's subordinate, Eve Voldiguard, has died]