Once upon a time . . .

Once upon a time, three people went to Antarctica, in order to wish their friend a happy birthday. These people were called Bruce, Diana, and Jason. Jason worked for Bruce, and Bruce and Diana were co-workers, along with the person whose birthday they were celebrating, who went by the name of Clark. Except that Diana wasn't really a person, because she was made out of clay, and all of the above-mentioned people went by at least two different names on a regular basis, so calling them Bruce, Diana, Jason, and Clark is really only telling half a story. But that doesn't matter so much, really.

So. Clark, who unlike Diana did qualify as a "person," was still not really a typical person. He was an alien, from a world long-since destroyed, and he had traveled the stars. As such, he had met many other individuals, and some of those individuals wished to join in his birthday celebrations, even if they lived quite far away. He had a means of dealing with this, of course, for Clark's intelligence was, it is fair to say, above average. But anything undertaken out of goodness can be exploited, and Clark was a being who, some might say, was pure goodness, and as such he himself was quite easily and often exploited. And, as he had been to many stars and many worlds, Clark had made many enemies as well as many friends. One of those enemies was a being named Mongul (which is the name used here because he, unlike our other friends, really only has the one name; except of course that people would give him derogatory swears as names quite often, as he wasn't very nice). And Mongul, knowing a little something about Clark's past, gave Clark a birthday gift in keeping with his alien lineage—a symbiotic plant, the Black Mercy, which gives its host entity a dream of whatever its heart most desires—a punishment that doesn't sound entirely so bad, except that the host knows that what it is experiencing is merely a lucid dream which he or she can end at any point, and it is in this fact the torture lies.

But the workings of the Black Mercy had a habit of attracting unexpected guests. And so it was that Clark, Mongul, Bruce, Diana, and Jason were joined by several others that day . . . but, it is fair to say, those others remained in the shadows (and even fairer to say, that those others were shadows themselves).

In the dark corners of a long-dead world bathed in red sunlight, Morpheus the Shaper stands and observes. He is joined today, unusually, by his sister Despair. Despair is a short, fat, naked, and altogether horrid-looking personification, and Morpheus never looks the same way twice, so why describe him here? You have your own idea of what he looks like, after all, and you are both always right and always wrong.

"Why are you here, Dream?" Despairs chokes out the words as though each syllable scrapes a thousand nails against the back of her throat. This is her usual speaking style.

"Since the germination of this species of plant, it has fascinated me, my sister," Dream whispers (for all his speech is whispers, and, like him, quite formless). "The Black Mercy induces waking dreams in its host, and these are somehow always different than usual dreams. For instance, they always manifest as precisely what the host desires."

"Yes. They are tainted with aching."

"Which is, I assume, why you are here, my sister. It is rare indeed that you visit the Dreaming."

"Yes." Despair nods her confirmation and intently watches the Black Mercy's prey in his dream-world. The prey, whom we have called Clark, is known as Kal-El here. And his world is not dead; indeed, it is as alive as ever, in a way. And it is Kal's birthday, and his lovely wife andchildren have thrown him a surprise party.

Our friends, shortly after discovering Clark reveling in his gift of the Black Mercy, were caught off-guard by the appearance Mongul, who was, as far as they knew, an uninvited guest at Clark's party. Diana and Bruce, though, quickly overcame their surprise and entered into a discussion of party etiquette with Mongul (Jason, however, just watched, amazed, because that's what he always did). Mongul explained to Bruce and Diana Clark's situation: that he was in the midst of a dream of his own devising, and that of course he could free himself if he wanted to, but who would want to? Bruce and Diana did not like what Mongul had to say, and Diana in particular disagreed with Mongul on several aspects of his behavior, causing the two to engage in a spat. Meanwhile, Bruce and Jason tried to get Clark to leave his newly-given Black Mercy and return to the party, so he too might mingle with Mongul. Bruce didn't really see the harm in it—after all, Clark was merely trapped in a dream. Reality awaited him, and reality was much more important.
A beautiful black raven has come to perch on the shoulder of Morpheus, who watches Kal-El argue with his father about the future of his planet. It is an interesting development, Morpheus notes; why should Kal argue with his family in the land of his heart's desire? Despair says nothing; she just relishes each moment. The raven, however, is more verbose.

"Hey, boss . . . hadn't seen ya around all night, and I thought I would come check up on you. What are you up to?"

"I am watching, Matthew. Our subject is dreaming, although it is against his will. He experiences precisely what he desires most, and yet not."

"Ohhhhh, I getcha . . . crazy Endless crap." Matthew shakes his head. "Waitaminute . . . holy shit! Isn't that Superman? . . . hard to recognize him without the big red S."

"Matthew?"

"You know . . . the Man of Steel? Earth's greatest champion? But then . . . where is he now?"

"He is dreaming of his home planet."

"Whoah. So this is what the big guy dreams of . . . his lost home. Guess I can relate. But you said this is against his will, huh?"

"Yes."

"Neat. I bet it's some psycho super-villain plot. I hope Superman kicks his ass."

By now Mongul and Diana had finished their spat, albeit halfway across Clark's place of dwelling, with Mongul, whose counterpoints had proven quite destructive, emerging as victor. His point proven, Mongul then decided to make his way back to Bruce and Jason, because, after all, there was still a party to be had. Bruce, meanwhile, was getting ever closer to pulling Clark's interest away from his spectacular new gift. Clark was about to return to the party, which was now in Mongul's hands.
"So why's your sister here?" Matthew throws a glance at Despair, who is now so enraptured in Kal-El's dream that she could not hear him even if she wanted to.

"I must confess I am not entirely sure, Matthew. My realm often brings glimpses of my other siblings . . . desire certainly, as well as delirium, destruction, despair and death. Yet they seldom feel compelled to come themselves."

"Hm." Matthew considers. "You know, I wouldn't mind being an Endless. I think it would take an eternity to figure you guys out. I could write a book. No one would read it, though . . . except Loosh."

Dream puts his finger to his mouth, or shifts the manifestation of his abstract presence enough so that Matthew sees it as such. "Quiet now, Matthew. This is the part of the dream that is most interesting."

In the distance, on an abandoned road of a planet tearing itself to pieces, Kal-El tells his son that he is not real, and in fact, neither is his planet or his life. Kal tells the boy that he must return to the waking world now, because it needs him. The boy doesn't understand . . . he needs Kal, too. But Kal is a conscientious man, and cannot allow himself to live in a dream, as much as it was precisely what he had desired.

And as each tear falls from the boy's eyes, the hair on Despair's body begins to rise.

And with each of the child's plaintive cries, Despair begins to tingle.

And as Kal-El tears himself away from a world that he has never really known, and wants nothing more than to embrace with all his being, Despair experiences the closest thing to an orgasm that one of the Endless can have.

(Excepting, of course, Desire, who might be described as the embodiment of orgasm.)

And, not for the first time, and not for the last, although perhaps most devastatingly, Krypton dies.

And, thanks to Bruce's coaxing, Clark finally returned his attention to the party. Unhappy with Mongul's thoughtful but in the end unwanted birthday gift, Clark proceeded to throw Mongul out of his house. The details of this debacle have been related elsewhere; suffice to say that through a rather clever use of the Black Mercy by Jason, Mongul got to experience Clark's present for himself, and this left him so content that it just took the party right out of him.
Morpheus observes several other dreams caused by the Black Mercy before moving on for the evening, including one in which a young boy's father saves himself and his wife and child from being murdered by a thug, and one in which a large yellow man enslaves the entire universe. The former is quite interesting but brief, and Morpheus makes a note to observe the dreamer again. The latter is boring and predictable; but then, few would-be conquerors ever have very interesting dreams.

Despair lingers on in the memory of Kal-El's dream for several moments longer than Morpheus, choosing not to join him in the other Mercy dreams. Morpheus again notes that his sister's interest in the last Kryptonian is an oddity, but, as it does not really pertain to his own domain, he leaves it be. Thus, after several moments in the final Mercy dream, Morpheus returns to his castle at the heart of the Dreaming. It is long before another Black Mercy dream occurs, and, as it is a good deal less interesting than Kal-El's, it does not bear telling.

Despair, reliving the explosion of Krypton again and again, gives her best smile, which could be most accurately described as a not-quite frown. She realizes, vaguely, that she has just viewed the culmination of the cosmic movements of the first entity to bear her name; sadly, she is the only one to remember the first Despair, and even that memory is incomplete at best. Still, she takes pride in the work of her position. It is a thing of beauty: the last member of a dead planet, forever reminded that, for all his efforts to the contrary, he is alone.

But Despair cannot be happy in this, for she is Despair. Thus, fleeting pride is all that is allowed of her. She wonders if the first Despair would have been happy. Then she realizes that this is not a topic she is allowed to dwell on, and, her predecessor's memory already fading into obscurity, she exits her brother's realm feeling perhaps emptier than when she entered.

At the remainder of Clark's party, everything was, to put it one way, pretty quiet. The experiences of the day had cast a bleak haze over Clark's dwelling. But, as so often happens at these things, a few bits of awkward conversation were want to rear their ugly heads.

"I never want to go through that again," said Clark quietly while eating his cake.

Jason looked up, somewhat intimidated to speak in the presence of his boss' most famous co-worker. "But . . . I mean, it was just a dream, right?"

Bruce interjected. "Sometimes, Jason, I think that dreams are more terrible than even death. When I faced Mongul today, I was not afraid. But I'm never really ready to close my eyes at night."

Jason, feeling summarily shot down, and a little frightened, returned to his cake. There was a bit of silence, and then Clark spoke up again.

"The worst part, though . . . the worst part is that Mongul enjoyed what he did to me. He loved every minute of it. He knew that I knew I was in a perfect dream, and would have to choose to leave it behind, and he knew how much that would kill me . . . and he loved every minute of it."

"I must admit, that is the part I don't quite understand," Diana said. "Mongul is a terrible creature, yes. But who can get any kind of happiness out of so much despair?"