Chapter Text
On a planetary wasteland that had once been home to billions of cheerful, friendly little green creatures with a passion for clockwork oranges1, a solitary figure was standing.
It was an imposing figure, as far as figures went. It was certainly a striking one. Looking at the figure, one received the impression that fields of death were its natural background. Its milieu, if you will. It wasn’t the kind of figure one would see standing knee-deep in corpses and greet with, “Funny, I wouldn’t have expected to see you here.” It might have been the kind of figure that one would greet with, “Oh crumbs, I thought I’d have more time than— urk,” which would handily take care of both hello and good-bye in one sentence.
The figure stood waiting. It had been waiting for a long time. Under its foot was a cheerful, friendly little green neck of a no longer cheerful or friendly kind.
Presently, the scene changed. Where there was one figure, suddenly there were two.
OH. IT’S YOU AGAIN, said the newcomer.
The first figure blushed.
WE MUST STOP MEETING LIKE THIS. The second figure looked around at the desolation of rotting corpses with the disapproval of a tidy housekeeper.
“I have been awaiting you with beating heart and bated breath.”
YOU SAID THAT THE LAST TIME. IT SEEMS TO HAPPEN TO YOU A LOT. USUALLY IT ONLY HAPPENS TO PEOPLE THE ONE TIME. I SUPPOSE YOU’RE AN OVERACHIEVER.
“The might of Thanos strikes terror in the hearts of entire galaxies,” the first figure boomed.
DOES IT? The second figure asked politely. THAT’S PROBABLY FROM OVERWORK.
“It is not work. It is the expression of passion. It is—“
I WAS THINKING OF GOING ON HOLIDAY. I MIGHT TRY DRINKS IN SPIKY FRUITS WITH DECORATIVE PARASOLS. I’M TOLD THEY’RE ESSENTIAL TO THE VACATIONING EXPERIENCE.
Thanos paused to regroup. “I have destroyed this race,” he proclaimed, sweeping an arm around him. “This creature here is the last of his people, the ruler of an empire that stretched across a hundred suns.”
YES, I NOTICED THAT.
“For you, my goddess, I make this offering.”
OH. There was a short, frigid pause. NOT THIS AGAIN.
“My love!” Thanos bellowed.
The second figure sighed. It peered down at the little green creature, which rolled two of its three eyes at him.
“What does it see when it looks at you?” Thanos asked.
ME, I IMAGINE. HELLO, Death said.
The little green creature wheezed.
“I see power,” Thanos declaimed. “I see majesty. I see the everlasting rule of darkness. I see beauty which I would raise a million altars, destroy a billion worlds, blot out a trillion suns, to worship.”
Death looked down at himself. He plucked morosely at the front of his robe. I SUPPOSE YOU SEE THE ONE WITH BREASTS.
Thanos fell to his knees, the little green emperor dangling from one flexed arm. “You are glorious.”
I’VE NEVER UNDERSTOOD THE FASCINATION WITH BREASTS. IT PROBABLY HAS SOMETHING TO DO WITH GLANDS. NOT THAT I JUDGE. THAT’S NOT REALLY MY JOB.
“I love all of you,” Thanos said, with the ferocity of the fanatic. Or the poet. Or the salesman. “In all your incarnations. I am your thrall. Your slave. I fall at your feet. My heart, my soul, my life is yours.“
If an anthropomorphic personification could be said to look embarrassed, Death looked embarrassed. He shifted his bony grip on his scythe, which was suddenly more sword-shaped than it used to be. AH. I EXPECT THOSE WOULD BE FEELINGS.
“Feelings for you.”
MAYBE IF YOU DRANK SOME TEA AND TOOK A NICE LONG NAP, YOU’LL FEEL BETTER IN THE MORNING? Death suggested hopefully.
Thanos’s face was alight. “I dedicate the extinction of this race to you. My mistress. My queen. My love.” Muscles bulged. There was a dull, wet snap. Death’s sword flicked out in a gentle not-thereness of blue that passed through the alien ruler’s neck without leaving a mark.
“What a colossal prick,” said the little green emperor, scrambling to his feet. Thanos dropped the lifeless body at Death’s feet and bowed his head. The emperor attempted to kick him in the throat, to no effect. “Oh, qvag. Am I dead? I’m dead, aren’t I?”
I’M AFRAID SO. IF IT’S ANY CONSOLATION, YOU MET YOUR DEATH WITH DIGNITY. I’M TOLD THAT MATTERS TO SOME SPECIES.
“Funny. I thought I would be angrier about this.”
EMOTIONS DON’T COME WITH YOU. THAT’S STRICTLY AN ORGANIC PHENOMENON.
“That’s good,” the emperor said. “I have to tell you, I wasn’t feeling all that chipper in the end. Being dead though, after seeing him wipe out my entire species — not having emotions isn’t that bad. Kind of a relief, really. Something to look forward to. So to speak.”
SO I’VE HEARD. I’M AFRAID I WOULDN’T KNOW.
“Will I see the rest of my people on the other side? Since they’re all dead?”
THAT’S A DIFFERENT DEPARTMENT. WHAT COMES AFTER VARIES DEPENDING ON THE INDIVIDUAL, I’M TOLD.
The emperor shrugged philosophically, tried to kick Thanos again in the head, and failed. “Oh well. It was worth a try.” He sighed. “You know he’s planning on wiping out all sentient life and make a throne for you out of their bones? It’s kind of sweet. Romantic and sweet. And horrible. He seems to think that’ll light a fire under your caboose.”
The pinpoint blue stars that shone in Death’s eyesockets flickered. MY WHAT?
“Pin the tail on your grakha'ck. Plump the kvee in your z'orkebat. Put the rah rah rah in your cha cha cha. I did crazy things for my first wife,” the emperor said nostalgically. He was already starting to fade. “I made her a garden when we were courting, and fertilized it with the blood of her lawyers. She stabbed me on our wedding night. What a corker. True love, you just can’t beat it.”
THAT HASN’T BEEN MY EXPERIENCE.
“Oh. Hah. I suppose you’d be the one to know, wouldn’t you?”
YOU COULD GO AS FAR AS TO CALL ME THE FINAL WORD ON THE SUBJECT. ON MOST SUBJECTS, REALLY.
“He can’t see me, can he?”
NO.
“I don’t suppose you’d do me a favor?”
I DON’T ACTUALLY—
“Can you give him the bird for me?2 Please?” All that was left of the emperor was an outline and a whisper of sound. “I feel like I should make some final statement on behalf of my people.”
HE CAN NO LONGER SEE ME.
“I always see you,” Thanos declared, fervent.
Death and the emperor looked at him.
“Aaaaaawkwaaaaaaard,” breathed the emperor, and disappeared.
ER, said Death. He looked down at himself. He thumped his chest experimentally. IS THIS ON?
“Speak to me,” Thanos said, creeping towards Death on his knees. One bloody hand grabbed for Death’s free one. Taken aback, Death let the Titan clutch his bony fingers in a reverent grip. “Tell me, what must I do to be worthy of you? I would lie with you. I would worship you with my body and my soul. I will burn the universe. I will blot out galaxies. I will—“
OH, BUGGER, said Death, and disappeared.
1. It’s a strange multiverse, full of strange things. For instance, there’s a species in the Orion-Cygnus Arm that has a passion for deep-fried, bacon-wrapped, phallic-shaped yellow sponge cakes stuffed unironically with cream. On a stick. To be fair, their neighbors feel this is taking eccentricity too far, and the species be left alone to go extinct so local property values will improve. [BACK]
2. It’s a curious fact that no matter the planet, the moment a species develops the beginnings of sentience, it will immediately invent: 1) a variation of sausage in a bun; and 2) an anatomically compatible version of the bird. Another curious fact is that it’s always called “the bird,” even on planets where no birds ever evolved. Strangely enough, on no planet have birds ever evolved enough intelligence or hostility to create their own version of the bird, proving yet again that: 1) the multiverse is odd; and 2) generally speaking, in order to find a real asshole, you mostly have to look to people. [BACK]