II-127 Politics (II)

What can we say about Greatest, Prince of Pride? What can we say that doesn't end with "asshole," "bastard," "won't take no for an answer"? He can sew up his own ass—that is a skill. His asshole literally has a singularity inside of it. He has a remarkable amount of skills related to assholes. He could telekinetically move a person using their asshole, or more importantly, he could literally emerge out of your asshole. This man has an ass fixation, alright?

He technically should have belonged to the Circle of Lust. The problem is, he was too proud. Too proud of his sexual features, too proud of his body, too proud of his mind, too proud of everything. Yeah, he's a horny, lustful bastard. However, he doesn't do it for the horniness or the lust; he does it because he thinks he's better than you, and if he doesn't, he gets real flaccid.

How do I know this? Well, let's just say that, fuck it, you know, I've been sleeping with this guy, okay? But look, besides him being a colossal asshole liking to do things with assholes... well, you know, the fact that he likes to do things with assholes is part of the reason. Enough about me, okay?

Just understand this: Greatest is an enormous prick. However, he knows he's an enormous prick and he plays with it, and he can get along with you. More importantly, he's been a Prince for the past, God knows how long. He's been a Prince for a long, long while and he's never made a run for king. That, that is the one thing that's special about Greatest.

But you see, Greatest might just be the greatest because he realizes the only way you can stay the greatest in the circle of Pride is if you don't keep crawling up. Because when you're king, you're not actually a king. You're the second person underneath Mepheleon. 

Mepheleon, the Harbinger, he likes to shit a lot. And that's the limit to Greatest's love of ass stuff, because Greatest understands sometimes there are some asses you don't play with. But those asses are few and far between.

-The Trespasser’s Compendium

II-127

Politics (II)

"So, you leaked my new dick pics?"

"Yes, Greatest."

"And?"

"We killed the leakers, Greatest."

"And?"

"I... Do I have to kill myself? It's not... It doesn't look complete if you're alive. Do you understand?"

"I... I... Yes, Greatest."

"Don't worry, your family will be looked after. But seriously, like, it needs to be like a sorrowful thing. Like you feel terrible that your cock is smaller than mine, right? You get the point I'm going for?"

The Sinnered began to sob. He sobbed violently. He sobbed hard.

Greatest frowned at him. "Hey, I gave you a bunch of Sins for this. I'm making sure your family crawls up the ranks of the Circle. Your son’s coming to Pride, baby. They're gonna be making it to a Count position or something. It's not bad, you know. Maybe... Maybe they could go for Duke or something, but I'll be honest. Dukes, it kind of sucks there. Count is where you want to be, right? What's best in life is holding what you want. You want to know how many counts I've seen stick around? A lot. You want to know how many Dukes I've seen stick around? Not that many. Because if you're a climber, you're gonna get cut down sooner or later. Middle management? Safe. You said your kid's not that ambitious, not that talented. Safe. Think about that, right? Think about that as you're dragging that knife across your throat."

So Greatest reached out, took the man by the hand, and placed the dagger along his neck. He met the man's eyes and gave him a nod. "Remember, you're doing this for your family, right? It has to look dramatic. You have to look awestruck. Also, thank you for the dick. It is a mighty fine cock."

The man nodded sadly. "It is, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. Look, it's one of the finest. I won't lie. That's why I came to you, you know? That's why they call me Greatest. Not because I'm always the Greatest, but I am. Eventually, I'm always the Greatest. Because I appreciate great things in people, and I take it from them. So, you know, treat this as flattery. Also, the suicide is flattery. Treat all of it as flattery."

The Sinner’s bright blue eyes glistened. "Yes, Greatest."

And then Greatest patted him on the cheeks and walked away. As he strode down the opulent halls, he listened to the sound of a man gurgling on his own blood, and suddenly a flow of power entered Greatest. The dagger he neglected to mention was also a ritual dagger. And now the man's essence was his essence, along with a blood sacrifice and a free resurrection. Oh, and a few more centimeters of anal circumference.

"Always need more anal circumference," Greatest muttered to himself. "Actually, I think it's time to check in with our old friend." And he closed his eyes, drew in a breath, and he loudly began to boast to no one in particular. "I'm the best, I'm the greatest. I had the best cock, the biggest cock, some say the most magnificent cock."

And slowly, he began to curve unnaturally. His body slid down his back. His entire form arced, deforming and vanished into a single hole on the surface of reality. A hole that was a sphincter. A hole that comprised the totality of Greatest's being. He was the asshole, the asshole. No greater asshole has ever been there. But he knew that, and he learned how to use his asshole well. Frankly, he also learned how to use other people's assholes well, which is why he crawled out of the Old Man's ass in a violent instant.

The Old Man shrieked. It was always funny. It was always, always interesting how people responded when you suddenly materialized and burst out from their rectum. Greatest loved it. It was probably the best skill he ever had. It was the oldest skill he ever had, back when he was still thinking about going to the Circle of Lust. Alas, Pride was where his heart belonged. Pride and the fact that he nearly fell to Envy when one of his fellow Sinners, well, decided to show how much bigger they were than Greatest. That Sinner unfortunately died after stabbing himself in the back of the head 472,000 times before throwing himself off the highest point of the claimed hells. He landed at the base, and miraculously, he briefly survived, only to immediately be sodomized to death by thirteen razorheads. It was very tragic, and Greatest decided to comfort both his widow, his sons, and his daughter at the same time.

"Good times," Greatest said, his voice was muffled from the Old Man's asshole, and he pushed. The Old Man screamed. Then, Greatest slowly forced himself all the way out. He slid free, his body pristine, glistening in the light. Greatest never wore a t-shirt. He never wore any kind of shirt. The only thing he had on was a jacket, one of those long leather jackets that was thick, brown, and wonderful all over. It had gems running down the back. It was like a dragon's eye, like scales. And that only ripped up the interior of the Old Man's ass even worse. That was also another part of the reason Greatest wore the jacket, because it hurt people a lot. 

It was like he was the dildo for a while.

With a casual step, Greatest planted his snakeskin Anaconda XXL boot on the ground and grinned down at his own polished reflection. "Looking great, Greatest." And behind him, the Old Man writhed. He twitched on his throne. Sinners everywhere were gasping. He was, oh, the Old Man was back in his mansion. That was good. He always liked doing this with an audience.

"Nothing to see here, folks. Just a Prince of hell coming down for a visit."

"Oh, thank you, my sire Greatest," the Old Man said. His eyes were rolling. Sweat poured down from his head, poured down from his neck, flooded over his body, his armor. The two suns he had hovering over his shoulders quivered and pulsed.

Greatest laughed. The Old Man might have been his favorite person in the world. But hurting him, hurting him was always a delight. Suddenly, Greatest roughly extracted his left foot and slammed it down. The Old Man collapsed on his throne and let out a whimper as his ass met the seat.

"So," Greatest clapped. As soon as he clapped, several Sinners burst into bloody mist. "Whoops!" He let out a laugh. The Sinners returned, but they returned out from the Old Man's ass. Greatest loved asses. He was strange that way, and he knew. And the ultimate thing about being Greatest, even if he knew he was strange and people thought he was strange, and they all decided he was weird, they couldn't stop him because he was motherfucking Greatest. The Old Man spasmed and tried not to scream as he met Greatest' eye.

"So," Greatest said, "how'd the message delivery go? Did he hook? Did he bite? Did he spread himself open and say, 'Come on in, Circle of Pride. It's you that I've always wanted to fill my whole holes? Sorry, I actually meant holes. Not souls." He glared at the Old Man until the poor old fool laughed. Greatest loved that. It was the worst joke he could have possibly made. But it still worked. It still worked because he was Greatest. It still worked because no one could say no to him. Well, other than another Prince or king. But then again, the other Princes of Pride were kind of boring and droll. They didn't know how absurd this all was. And they never had fun with it. They were so self-important, but they didn't enjoy it. They were so easily offended. And they didn't even like half the things they did. What's the point of having so much ego if you couldn't have fun?

The Old Man stared on at Greatest. And suddenly, out from behind him, a hand pawed. The hand reached. "Oh, Harbinger, it's so dark in here. It's so tight. I think another person... I think another person's been crushed. I can feel their blood flowing over me." And through their words, blood began to pour down the Old Man's throne. Greatest ignored it. The Old Man ignored it. Both of them pretended the Old Man didn't have people hidden and trapped inside of his ass. All due to Greatest' special skill.

"I'm afraid not, Prince Greatest," the Old Man let out a sigh. It was a rasping sigh. The kind of noise a sword would make when leaving a poorly maintained scabbard. And that was just the thing. Greatest looked at the Old Man like he was a poorly maintained scabbard.

"Well, is that because of a 'him' problem or a 'you' problem? I hope it's a 'him' problem. I can adjust a 'him' problem. I don't want to adjust a 'you' problem." He wrapped his arm around the Old Man's shoulder, letting his hand slide through one of the suns. Oh yes, it was an actual sun. Oh yes, it burned real hot. Didn't matter. Greatest didn't care about that. There was only one real way to hurt Greatest thanks to his, uh... Prince-Evolution Invocation. And that was hurting his pride. Hurting Greatest's pride was the equivalent to hurting his very being. It was surprisingly difficult and easy at the same time. Greatest liked living dangerously. But not that dangerously.

"The 'him' problem," the Old Man swallowed.

"And well, I was thinking about how to solve..." Greatest said, holding up a finger. His finger just kept getting longer and longer until it went up the Old Man's left nostril. And then he suddenly pulled it out. The Old Man gasped. "It's all right. You don't need to make excuses. You don't need to ask me for forgiveness. I'm not blaming you. In fact, I'm not even going to punish you. Much."

The Old Man blinked. "Much?"

"Yeah, you know, I've still got to, you know, do something. Otherwise, other Counts might think I'm playing favorites. Other Princes might think I like you. You know what happens to counts when the people upstairs think they're favored by someone else upstairs, right? I actually care about you, Old Man. I don't want them to think that I actually like you. That's why you're going to be seeing the Cerberus soon."

"Shit," the Old Man muttered. "I hate the Cerberus."

"Everyone hates the Cerberus. That's why you're going to have to see it. All right? So when you're done with the Cerberus, I will make this up to you." He patted the Old Man on the back. "I understand that you've been caught in an unfortunate spot of politics. It's bad. It's bad for all of us. Frankly, I don't even really care about this kid. I need to deal with Mary Antoinette and her whiny, 'Sorry, I just want to be a pastoral separatist, whatever.' Listen, she's a mess, and I'm a mess. Right? I'm in a mess because the other Princes won't shut up about what? Line guide? Who's in line anyway? Why do I care about a line? Who is she? Why is this a big deal? So what? So what, a marquise killed a duke. Oh, it's never been done before. You want to know what else hasn't been done before? Hiding an entire planet in someone's ass." Greatest's voice dropped real low. "You think that boy can survive an entire planet up his ass?"

The Old Man stared at him. "You think he can survive?"

"Tell me, you know what, I accept your challenge. I think you think a little too highly of this kid. How large of a planet do you think he can fit up there?"

"It's not that, it's just..." The Old Man looked at the Sinners.

"It's not like you to be stuttering, Old Man," Greatest said. "It's not like you to be nervous and hesitant. What's so special about this little boy?" He leaned in close. "Don't tell me you fancy this little boy."

"It's not that at all," the Old Man said, disgust overcoming him. "It's... it's a private matter. It's..." He leaned in close and spoke in Greatest's ear. "He has more than a Class. I think he's the Concept Breaker."

And slowly, Greatest's mirth bled out from his face. "The fuck did you just say to me?"

"I think he's the..."

"I heard you the first time," Greatest said, slapping the Old Man. He did it lightly. So the Old Man only flew halfway across the room. He caught the Old Man before he really hit something and broke something. Greatest wasn't lying when he said he liked the Old Man. Good help and good servants were hard to come by. Especially in the claimed hells. As he planted the Old Man on his feet, a flood of mangled bodies and one still-alive Sinner plopped out. The Old Man let out a satisfied, relieved gasp.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," Greatest said. "Now, what you just said." Greatest stared at the room filled with Sinners. They looked like the Old Man's personal retainers, servants, and the like. "You trust these guys?"

The Old Man stared at them. "Yeah, I don't."

Greatest snapped his fingers. They all vanished into their own asses. A series of sphincters popped down on the ground. "They'll be fine, but only after I do a..." Greatest made a clicking noise with his mouth. And he performed the gesture of scissors sniping together over and over again. The Old Man just nodded in grim acquiescence. "So, Concept Breaker. He has a System."

"Yeah," the Old Man said.

"And you're sure about this." He summoned a series of scythes. It consumed the world, and he leaned over, his breath falling fast from his upper lip. "He gave me a shard. A shard that let me advance an aspect, any aspect I wanted."

Greatest went from being half-hearted and mostly here for his own amusement to fully committed to the scene. "Okay," Greatest said, rubbing his hands together. "Okay, fuck yeah. Now we're cooking. What is this kid's deal? I thought he was just some skilled killer. He managed to cross the Hated Realm on his own, even with the Inheritors hot on his ass. Sure, Mulver and the Circle gave him some help, but mostly it was between him, the Trespassers Lodge, and now his system."

"And why does he have the system?"

"Because it was hidden in the heart of his world. The heart of his…" and something clicked inside Greatest's head. "Oh, oh, oh, oh, those Earthborn motherfuckers. Those goddamn immigrant..." He stared at Old Man. "I'm sorry. I meant to be rude to someone who wasn’t you. You guys just don't belong here. I think you should stay where you are, right? And I should stay where I am. I told you about my politics several times."

Old Man just nodded. "Yeah, I'm fine with that."

"I know, I know you're fine with that, but I'm just telling you again, just to make sure, right? I don't think you should be here. I don't think your kind should be here. It's really bad for you. It'd be really bad and really unfortunate if more of you came, and more of you got your assholes torn open, and I ended up on Earth doing the thing to you guys. You know, we don't want that."

"We don't," the Old Man agreed, sweating again.

"We really don't," Greatest emphasized. "So, why is this kid here anyway? What does he want?"

"Well, before, revenge."

"On who?"

"Fucking everyone," the Old Man said. "He's pissed. He's a violent, angry child. He's like, what, 18 or some shit? I don't know, I'm gonna have to ask him over again. But he came here looking for revenge. On his dad, on the Inheritors, on the Fallen, on practically everyone. Even the Dying Queen's on his list. He's beefing with everybody. Everybody.”

“Everybody." Greatest said, “wow, I think I like the cut of his jib.” He remembered how it used to be. Greatest looked off dramatically. He knew he was looking off dramatically. And as he looked off dramatically, his essence began to swell. He gleamed like a golden god. He got stronger. "I think I'm gonna want to meet with this kid a little earlier than all the other Princes. And I'm going to need you to deliver another message."

The Old Man let out a sigh. "I don't think he's gonna let me back in."

"You better find a way, Old Man. And I haven't told you what that message is."

The Old Man stared. "Okay."

The Greatest smiled. "The message is me. So bend over. Spread that ass. I'm gonna be delivered the classic way. The official way. The surprising way. The Greatest way.”

A look of resignation came over the Old Man. "I don't know if he'll like that, boss. He's from a traditional culture."

"Oh. So. I don't know. All the traditional people like that. What is he, one of those Greegs? The oil wrestling people?"

"He's kind of like one of those Asians. Chinese."

"What the fuck's a Chinese?"

"It's a cultivator."

"What the fuck's a cultivator?"

"They are people who train real hard and get powerful. They grow their essence through commitment to ideology—"

"Look, he's just going to have to deal with me being in your ass. Just spread.”

“Yes… Greatest.”