Chapter 1: Deal of a Lifetime

Everything can change in a single moment.

It's not a very profound statement, but most people overlook what it means. They think that it is talking about things like a promotion that helps you start saving up money or meeting a girl who you would one day marry.

Those might count in all honesty. However, I am talking about the moments where everything collapses around you and all that you are left with is rubble and regrets. The times that forever darken the path you walk and haunt you for as long as you live.

My moment was when the police academy graduation disappeared in a massive explosion that obliterated the building. I was hit by the blast wave so hard that I flew twenty feet and blacked out from the pain of my body being struck by the wall of force.

When I come to, the room is filled with fire as part of the ceiling collapses in from the damage. The floor is covered with dead bodies as most people didn't survive the initial shockwave. It was a miracle I didn't die immediately, but I can tell that my internal injuries are definitely fatal.

I push through the agonizing pain as I crawl forward. My hands burn as I push them against the burning ground to help force myself forward. Blood drips from my body through a myriad of cuts I received from the shrapnel. I just ignore the warning signs my body is screaming at me so that I can keep going.

The scent of burning flesh fills the air along with the screams of the few people lucky enough to just be injured. I push their pained cries out of my mind as I look through the faces of the fallen, desperately searching in the hopes that I don't find what I am looking for. My hopes die moments later when I see her.

Her sightless eyes gaze at me as her body lays limp and unmoving on the floor. Despite the blood, you would think she was unharmed if it wasn't for the vacant look in her eyes as her life had long been extinguished.

I feel tears forcing their way out of my eyes as I look at the body of Renee Montoya, one of my few childhood friends and the only one who ever put up with me. My throat chokes up as I try and swallow the anguish, but it overwhelms me in a moment. I am going to die and I couldn't even do anything to protect my friend. What a great cop I turned out to be. Fresh out of the academy and I am already dying a pointless death. I squeeze my eyes shut in impotent anger as I feel my body slowly failing.

I can almost feel a moment when everything shifts. The screams stop cutting through the air while the smoke no longer chokes my lungs. The heat from the fire is gone and my body feels completely normal. I open my eyes to see that the flames filling the hall had frozen, their dancing forms locked in place. The clouds of billowing smoke had stopped too, the black shapes unnatural in their stillness.

"Are you just going to lay there?" a voice rings out across the silent hall. "I prefer people with a little more pep in their step. Go-getters make my job so much easier."

I turn my head to see a man walking toward me through a field of frozen fire and smoke. The first thing that I make out through the darkness and light shrouding his form is the red lights that seem to shine from his eyes. At least, that's where I think they are glowing from due to his silhouette. The thing that made me question that assumption is the fact that there are four of them. The lower pair seemed to be set lower and to the sides, but their presence gave an inhuman quality to the man before anything else.

As he steps out of the smoke and flames, I am able to see him clearly. He was a tall black-haired man with tan skin and dressed in a suit with a red dress shirt. His suit jacket, pants, and hair all seemed to be the same shade of black. It was darker than anything I had ever seen, almost seeming to eat all light that touched it. His red shirt matched his four piercing red eyes, the lower pair looking out at me from right above his cheekbones. A smile plays across his lips as they reveal pearly white teeth.

"Who are you?" I ask. There was a heavy feeling around him. I can only describe it as a depth of self-assured power that seemed to suffocate the area around with his presence alone.

"I have been known by many names," the man says. "You wouldn't know most of them. If you did, you would probably be running for your life. One that I stole for myself is the King of Curses. But then again, that doesn't mean much to the average police academy graduate in this dimension, now does it? Anyway, I mainly go by Red, but you can just call me Michael. That's the name I use for buddies."

"What are you then?" I ask. With how he seems to have frozen time and removed the pain of my injuries, there is no way he is human.

"That's a better question," Michael says as his grin grows wider. "I am a Contractor, an employee of the Company, a multiversal business fueled by saviors and sin. My true nature, however, I am sure you can guess."

"You are a demon," I say as realization dawns on me. "You want to make a deal."

"Got it in one," Michael replies. "Technically, I am a fallen angel instead of one of the more common hellspawn that humanity is more familiar with. As such, I enjoy having a nice vessel for interacting with mortal worlds. That's where you come in."

"Why do you need me?" I ask. "You just said you were part of some multi-dimensional group. Couldn't you get a body from somewhere else? You could probably find someone a little better than a dying academy graduate in Gotham."

"Probably," Michael says, his smile never leaving his face. "However, my previous form was destroyed by some rivals in the Company. Since they think I'm dead, I can use this as a vacation. You know, get away from it all and recoup my strength until I am back to normal. If I were to get a body from the Company, they might be able to find out what I look like or realize I am still alive earlier than I'd like. So, you are my solution."

"So are you going to eat my soul or something?" I ask.

"Of course not," Michael says, waving off my concern. "Pure-hearted souls like yours taste terrible to me. Now, if it was seasoned over a couple decades with some debauchery and selfishness, it might be pretty good though." He stops to think about it as if he was competing on Iron Chef and trying to decide the optimum spice ratio for my eternal soul.

"How are you going to use me as a vessel if I am still in here?" I can feel my annoyance building up despite his intimidating aura.

"We will be roommates, of course," Michael answers. "I will hide in your body under the outer layer of your soul to camouflage myself from any other Contractors. In exchange, I will help you out by making you a sub-Contractor for me. You will be able to complete missions through my faction in the Company and reap the rewards to strengthen yourself. Not a bad deal in my opinion."

"You can really just fuck right off," I say. "I don't exactly like the idea of having a fallen angel riding shotgun in my body. Especially one being actively hunted down. You need a better pitch than that."

"Oh well," Michael says. "I thought you would want to save everyone here. After all, aren't police offers supposed to be heroes?"

"What are you talking about?" I ask him. "You could do that?"

"Absolutely," he replies. "To be completely honest, it wouldn't even be much of a challenge. I would just nudge time back to before the bomb went off, fiddle with the wiring, and have the police remove it later. All of this would be like a bad dream."

"If I say yes, you can't take control of me whenever you want," I say. "You won't be able to commit any crimes that exceed my morals, you won't harm any innocents, and you won't allow your enemies or actions to endanger anyone through your inaction."

"Oh, going right to the deal?" Michael asks with a growing smile. "Those aren't terrible additions, I will admit. I personally like how you arranged it so I can still get up to some fun."

"If you are really a demon, I don't imagine I can stop you from taking the wheel if you want to and doing what you want," I admit. "At the very least, I can stop you from hurting whoever you want."

"Anything else you want to add in?" Michael asks. "Changes to reality to fit your whims? What'll it be? I can't do anything to blatant, but I still have a lot of wiggle room to play with."

"Tell me how you were defeated," I say. "You said that some Contractors took out your last body. How did that happen?"

Michael growls under his breath. "You just had to pick the most annoying choice, didn't you?" he grumbles. "Fine. It was when I came to this shithole dimension."

--

(Michael/Red POV)

I step out of the portal and take a deep breath of the fresh air. The city smelled of decay, corruption, and dwindling hope. There really is nowhere like Gotham. You just can't find this kind of blend in such a common world outside of DC. Worm might come close with the jewel known as Brockton Bay, but the people there have long given up any real hope of change. In Gotham, the citizens still dream of a better tomorrow while they sink into the muck. It really is something special.

I pull out my phone and dial up Green's number. "I'm here," I say. "Where is the contact? I don't like having my time wasted."

"Like, calm down, man," Green says. "All I was told is that an independent Contractor reached out to the Consortium about a group trying to break the Company's rules on using a Nexus world as a permanent base."

"Idiots," I mutter. Nexus worlds are off-limits for any prolonged Contractor presence unless said contractor is an original resident of the world or is affiliated with a Company-sponsored neutral zone. This stems from the fact that they provide easier access to all worlds in their branch of the multiverse. Countless upstart Contractors had tried to take one for themselves to help dominate portions of the multiverse, but even more teamed up to crush them. No one likes someone upsetting the balance. As such, major factions only interfere through proxies. "Any idea which one it is this time? It seems like we deal with stuff like this constantly these days."

"No clue," Green responds. "You know how it is, these guys are a dime a dozen more often than not. They come out of the woodwork and try to take a slice of the pie for themselves. Sadly, they get a little too big for their britches a little too quick."

"Like you are one to talk," I scoff. "Don't you and your dog come from some kind of Danger Rating 2 world where you solved mysteries in a van colored like a fever dream? If anyone can understand an up-and-coming Contractor trying to get stronger, it would probably be you."

"It's because I understand that I try to crush them quickly," Green answers. "I know how ambitious some of them can be and how much they can destroy in their drive to become powerful. That's why we need to make sure to keep them in check. I don't want to lay around until a Tier 13 blasts his way onto my demiplane to pick a fight because they think that there are no consequences to their actions."

"Whatever, Norville," I say as I see a person walking up to me. "Someone's here. I have to go. Say hi to Scooby for me."

"Got it," Green says before hanging up the call.

"Are you with the Consortium?" the person asks. They were dressed in a long black hooded cloak that covered their body and obscured any detail of their form underneath.

"Yes," I say. "You had some information about Contractors trying to establish a foothold on this world. Who are they?"

"They call themselves the Syndicate," the informant states. "I know something else about them though."

"What is it?" I ask, my patience thinning from their attempts at extending the exchange.

"They really want to meet you, Red King," the person states. They raise their head to reveal the fanatic gaze of a man with stringy black hair and gaunt features. His lips were twisted in a manic grin as he bared his teeth in an approximation of a smile. "The Syndicate sends their regards."

He begins to glow with a light that permeates every fiber of his being as I rush to counter the attack. I immediately recognize it for what it is. Many of the more sadistic collectives among Contractors have no qualms with what count as war crimes to the average employee of the Company. Due to this, they have always experimented with the best ways to do the most damage with the least personal risk. This research culminated in what is known as a dragon bomber.

A dragon bomber is created when a Contractor undertakes a specific blend of elements when they choose a dragon heritage. The typical combination was Sacrifice, Suicide, Explosion, and Fire. These synergize to create an individual who could theoretically destroy an entire universe if they are willing to be erased from existence as well. The detonation is so violent because it burns through the Contractor's draconic essence and their soul. This leaves nothing left when performed successfully. It was a popular tool when utilizing easily manipulated extremists and nihilists with a death wish. However, it had fallen out of favor once Contractors grew tired of worlds being erased so pointlessly in battles.

Despite the centuries since I last fought one, I remembered enough to be able to handle one without any damage to this universe. It would be catastrophic if he succeeded in his detonation. Not only would the Consortium probably get blamed for the loss of a Nexus world, but it would likely cause the collapse of this entire multiversal sector.

I focus my energy and cut us off from the main flow of time to form a divergent timeline. While this would trigger the formation of a new universe if this were not a Nexus world, it ultimately results in a temporary dimension tied to this universe. It gave me more room to work with since I could fight on a higher power scale without having to worry about the consequences. Ideally, I would just open a major fight with destroying my current universe and getting one of the other Kings to resurrect the universe afterwards. However, the destruction of the Nexus world is exactly what I want to avoid.

So, I restrain myself and unleash a series of cutting attacks aimed at the detonating Contractor. The first to connect severed his connection to this universe. This made it easier to force him to another world once I opened a tear in space with my second slash. The rip in the fabric of reality tore open around him as I transported him to the nearest dead world. There was quite a few in existence after Contractor disputes ended in an apocalyptic brawl. It was only made easier since this Nexus world made it easier to reach one. The final cut utilized a reversal effect that served to seal the rift I had just made.

All three of these occurred within an instant, but I was still lucky that it worked. Even if it was only in a temporary dimension, the fissure I made in space could have destabilized the Nexus world due to its inherent precarious nature. It was only thanks to the mastery of my technique and the precision of my focus that I was able to pull it off without any consequences.

As I idly feel the idiot take out the barren world I sent him too, I also feel the sharp pain of a bullet tearing into my back. My attention had been so heavily centered on the bomber that I had to drop my protective field of slashes to properly defeat him without risking the Nexus world. There must have been another Contractor waiting for that moment to take a shot at me with my guard down.

Before I can cut into my body and rip the bullet out, I feel it burst into shrapnel inside of my torso. Once it does, my senses realize what it is constructed of. The outer jacketing of the round was produced from a dragon with Stealth, Illusion, Assassin, and Surprise as its elements. This allowed it to evade my perception with the help of the bomber's distraction. The inner core of the bullet came from a dragon possessing the elements of Poison, Corruption, Weakness, and Death. This blend allows it to eat away at its target from the inside once it has entered the body. A thin layer of dragon bomber material between the two layers was responsible for turning the round into a micro-bomb.

The Syndicate really must want me out of the picture. The Contractors that they are wasting on this attempt to kill me was almost flattering. The bullet components were only produced after killing the Contractors and harvesting their essence. This means that they had to sacrifice at least 3 Contractors that were at least Tier 11, probably 12. Well, it is technically 4 Contractors if you count the first dragon bomber too.

The bullet itself is telling as well. There are not a lot of craftsmen who could work with multiverse-grade draconic materials to create a weapon like that. It is even rarer to find one who could blend the pieces together without a negative reaction. Draconic essence is a very fickle substance to work with. They would have to be a Tier 13, the same highest rank of Contractor.

Once I realize there is another threat, I can sense the second shot flying through the air towards me. With a scoff of contempt, I cut it out of the air with ease. They really thought the same trick would work twice. Amateurs. I make sure to slice it in a way that triggers the explosion in a way that destroys the inner core. It's never good to leave a WMD laying around where anyone could find it.

I flick my fingers to make a short range gash in space. Unlike my previous one, this is just a trick to fold space in a universe while the first was to cross worlds. I reach through the slash and grab the neck of the sniper before they can react. The briefest effort cleaves them apart so that they collapse to the ground in a heap of bloody chunks. I can feel their spirit escape as it is dragged to another world by a soul tether. Their patron must have bound them with a contract that retrieved their soul in the event of their death.

A ripple of pain scatters through my body after I finish the attack. The bullet fragments seem to do more damage the more energy I expend through fighting, but the relatively low cost of my retaliation didn't speed up their progress by much.

My senses pulse as I feel hundreds of arrivals in the divergent timeline. Countless Contractors appear throughout the city as all of their eyes focus on me. Every single one of them is at least Tier 10 while most are Tier 11 with a fair sprinkle of Tier 12. Whoever arranged this party had enough sense to not send any Tier 13 Contractors. If one did come to this fight, divergent timeline or not, the fight would collapse the Nexus world.

As it stood, this was still a very heavy handed maneuver. They were throwing as many expendable Contractors at me as they could in the hopes that they would force me to use my energy reserves and let the bullet do its job. Despite what could be considered an all-star line up to a lesser Contractor, these are all obviously pawns that were forcibly elevated with credits and IMG tickets to purchase their power. Their advancement in strength might have been trivial for a large enough group, but this many was still a sizable cost to be paid in the hopes of taking out a single one of the Consortium's Kings.

The being of kindness that I am, I decide to show the Syndicate how all of their shortcuts and fodder mean nothing in the face of true strength.

I step through another slashed portal before I am floating high above the Gotham city skyline and looking down on the masses of Contractors rushing across building and through the streets or flying through the air to meet me. I just chuckle as the ants try to topple a god. It is time for the Syndicate to understand what it means to challenge the Red King of the Consortium.

I place my hands into the hand sign I inherited from the original King of Curses after I took his throne. "Consider yourselves lucky, worms!" I call down from my place above the rabble. "You can bear witness to the pinnacle of Jujutsu sorcery in your final moments!"

The Contractors immediately group up around any among their number who are Jujutsu sorcerers as well. It brings a smile to my face to see them all try so futilely to escape their judgement. Their fates were sealed the moment they believed they could stand against me. Their death sentence is just finally being carried out.

"Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine."

A wave of energy shoots away from me as my domain expands to encompass the entire city and the skies around it. Skyscrapers turn into towers of bone as the streets run red and the harbor turns into a sea of blood. The Wayne Towers building becomes the central shrine as I hover above it and gaze at my cowering enemies. The other sorcerers among the Contractors try to perform their own Domain Expansions while others use Simple Domain and its earlier form, Hollow Wicker Basket. Despite their attempts at prolonging their lives, my domain overtakes their defenses and they are left helpless against my technique.

The Contractors and the city itself are immediately diced by countless slashes that shredded them past the atomic level and down to quantum foam. I take the energy generated from severing all of those bonds and I use it to fuel my favorite part of Sukuna's techniques.

"Divine Flame: Open."

Divine Flame functions through using Dismantle and Cleave together. This originally allowed Sukuna to even cut atoms to achieve nuclear fission and generate an arrow of nuclear fire. While powerful, it was limited by a slow speed, short range, and a Binding Vow that restricted its use to one on one fights. To overcome this weakness, the first King of Curses used it in conjunction with his domain to create the first nuclear explosion.

I had elevated the technique beyond what Sukuna could have ever dreamed of accomplishing. Divine Flame is now produced through destroying matter down to conceptual energy and used to create an explosion which is comparable to the Big Bang.

As the detonation commenced and erased anything left in Malevolent Shrine, I finish the last steps of my plan as I can feel the corruption spreading through my body after the Domain Expansion burned through so much energy. I cycle the divergent timeline back to where I separated it from the primary timeline and reconnect it at the exact same moment. Then, I snip the loop of extra timeline away so that this dimension breaks away and begins to degrade.

Since this was a temporary branching of the timeline, the people here were no more than shades of the originals. They lacked true existence because this false dimension served as part of a Nexus world and so they were just impressions that carried over from the natural timeline. They didn't even possess souls of their own. This means that none of the other Kings will get pissed at me when this looped strand of time is eaten up by the Divine Flame which I allow to run rampant as I expand the domain to encompass the rest of the degrading dimensional space.

I leave my current body behind to burn up along with all of my adversaries to pretend like I lost control of the technique as I succumbed to the draconic bullet fragments embedded inside of me. Even though I had to sacrifice most of my power to sell the idea, I was able to make it back to Gotham in the Nexus world before my abandoned body was obliterated along with the Syndicate fools in a vanishing pocket dimension.

In a rush to find a new vessel to help contain me as I lay low, I feel myself drawn to a promising candidate in the city. As I follow the pull, I find it to be a young man inside of a destroyed hall along with the victims of a bombing attack. This should be easy.

--

(MC POV)

"So that's it," Michael says. "We are all caught up. Happy now?"

"You made yourself sound so cool, but you got pretty much killed by a couple of surprise attacks and being mobbed by a bunch of nobodies from a Company faction you have never heard about?" I ask as I try to control myself after hearing the disparity between the bullshit he is telling me and the fact that he sounds like he died in a couple minutes. I can't help myself and I start to snicker while trying to hide it as a cough.

"You realize that I was fighting hundreds of planet-level threats, universe-level threats, and multiverse-level threats while simultaneously trying to avoid destroying this world and countless others, all while suffering from a gunshot with a bullet designed to kill a beings which could obliterate entire universes with less effort than blinking," Michael says with a deadpan. "The fact that I successfully pulled off faking my own death instead of just dying speaks volumes to how powerful I am."

"Wait a second," I say. "You keep talking about how unstable this universe is. How can you fix the bombing if you are already weaker than you used to be?"

"Because it would be part of a contract," Michael answers. "Since you are a natural part of this world, the change would be natural as well instead of being caused solely by an outside force, like me alone."

"What's to stop you from trying to get out of the contract?" I ask. "When you get strong enough, you could just force your way out."

"It will be a Binding Vow as well," Michael says, his expression showing grudging acknowledgement at my statement. "Those bind the very souls of those who engage in them. The connection between the two in a vow is so powerful that to attempt to sever it would be be extremely risky. Even at my full power, I would never risk trying to break a vow that I made personally. The very nature of it would be far riskier when I could just fulfill my half of the deal."

"If you are going to follow through, let's just seal the deal," I say. "How do you do this? Classic handshake? Or are you one of those weird demons who does it with a kiss?"

"Even if I wasn't straight like you, I have standards," Michael says with distaste. "We will be going with a modified classic. A blood binding handshake."

With a flick of his wrist, my hand is cut open deep enough so that bloods begins to pour out of the wound. I wince in discomfort but I stomach the pain for now. I look up to Michael as he slices open his own palm as well before holding it out to me.

"Well, is it a deal?" Michael asks, but I can tell from his smug smile that he knows I agreed before he even told me his story.

"Yes," I say before I grasp his bloody hand with my own. Spectral chains lash around both of our hands as colored energy flows down both of our arms to meet in the middle, his being red while mine was white. I feel the contract and the Binding Vow latch onto my soul as the agreement was completed.

"What's your name anyway, kid?" Michael asks as the chains still bind our arms. "I like to at least know the names of my vessels."

"Felix Benjamin Faust," I tell him. "Call me Ben."

"Alright, Ben," Michael says. "It's funny. If I remember right, Felix Faust is supposed to be the name of a villain. Yet here you are, a man with the same name trying to be a cop. Strange how the multiverse works."

"Like you are one to talk," I reply. "Wasn't Michael supposed to be an angel loyal to God?"

"I guess neither of our names fits us," Michael agrees. "A cop with a villain's name and a demon with an angel's. It is almost fitting that I decided to be the Mephistopheles to your Faust."

"How long until you can fix everything?" I ask.

"Oh, I could do that ever since the binding was set," Michael says. "Enjoy the little time you have left before the Company comes calling."

Before I can get him to explain, the fallen angel snaps his fingers and everything turns black.

"Ben, Ben, Ben!" a voice shouts before my eyes finally snap open. I look around in surprise to see the hall appear perfectly normal. No dead bodies, collapsing ceiling, or open fires. A nice calm police academy graduation.

"You fell asleep," the voice says with a tone of disappointment. "I really expected better of you after you were so excited for graduating."

I turn to see my friend Renee Montoya standing in front of me with a frown on her face. The sight of her vacant gaze flashes through my mind before I push it down as I jump up from my chair and pull her into a spinning hug that lifts her off of her feet.

"What the fuck, Faust?!" she shouts as I continue to spin her in a circle until I finally drop her down on her feet. Some of the other graduates and officers

"I just really wanted a hug all of a sudden," I say with a smile as my friend rolled her eyes with a sigh.

"Okay, weirdo," she says. "How about getting some drinks with some of the other guys to celebrate? We are heading to the nearest pub till we are all to plastered to walk straight."

"I can't tonight," I say apologetically. "I am totally wiped after the graduation exams so I want to just head back to my place and pass out."

"I hear that," Renee replies with a laugh. "After falling asleep during the commissioner's speech and your little shaving accident the other day, it is no wonder that you want to sleep in."

"Shaving accident?" I ask, my voice revealing my confusion.

"You must be more out of it than I thought," Renee says. "The cuts near your cheekbones. They are already healing up pretty well, but they seem like they might scar. At least you can make up a story about how you got them. I doubt anyone will be impressed that you made the same mistake on both sides of your face."

I reach up and feel the skin under my eye and close to my cheek. The small line I find there was exactly where Renee said and I wince from its sensitivity after poking it. "Completely forgot," I say with a nervous chuckle.

"Just get some rest before we start work tomorrow," Renee says. "I don't want you shooting yourself the first day on the job."

"Thanks, Renee," I tell her. Despite her brash exterior, her inner kindness always has a way of shining through for a moment.

"I will see you later," she replies before turning and shouting at another newly graduated officer. "Ramirez! Let's see how many shots of tequila we can get into you before you dial up your ex-girlfriend for a bootycall."

And, she's back. The moment is gone as quickly as it came.

As I see her walk away, I am struck by the realization I have cuts on my face I definitely do not remember having a few minutes ago. I should probably figure that out before I head home.

I go to the nearest bathroom and check that the stalls are empty. Once I confirm I am alone, I look at myself in the mirror. There is a line between each of my eyes and their associated cheekbone. Something about them set off a warning bell in my head but I couldn't quite connect the dot until I am given the answer. The two lines open up to reveal a pair of red eyes as a mouth spreads open on my cheek.

"Hey, Felix," it says with a little smile.

"What the fuck?!" I scream as I stumble back from the mirror.

"Oh, don't be such a baby," the mouth says. "I was just making myself comfortable in my new vessel. You had have expected a few changes."

"I didn't agree to you tacking on new eyes and mouths!" I exclaim. "Where was that in the deal?!"

"Don't be such a baby," Michael says as he rolls his eyes. My eyes. The extra red ones. "I even added in an illusion that causes people to rationalize our extra eyes by themselves. You saw it yourself when your friend thought that they were just shaving cuts."

"So, you aren't going to permanently change my body more?" I ask.

"Not really, no," Michael says. "Unless it would be amusing, then very much yes."

I take a deep breath to avoid the temptation to punch myself in his face. "This is fine," I mutter to myself. "This is fine. I am just going to go home where things make sense and faces don't pop out of my face. Please don't reveal yourself to anyone, Michael. I would prefer my friends to not try and blast me in the face."

"Of course," he replies. "What do you take me for, an idiot? I will only do this to fuck with you and anyone else who finds out. I can just talk in your head if I want to."

"Thank God for small miracles," I say. "Alright, let's call it a night. I want a nice and calming evening at home."

--

"I blame you for this," I tell Michael as I stare at my roommate and landlord, Satoru Gojo, aiming a bright purple ball of energy at me.

"Imaginary Technique: Hollow Purple," he says as he prepares to fire the little ball of death at me. "Don't worry, Felix. I will get rid of that little soul parasite that snuck into you. Just hold very still."

Michael didn't even have to show himself to get my friends to try and blast me in the face. I already regret this deal so much.

--

Author's note:

Here it is! The first chapter of my new story!

My MC for this story will be named Felix Benjamin Faust, but he will be in no part related to the DC villain Felix Faust who will not exist in this universe. I just thought that the name was perfect since I try and give my characters alliterative names as much as possible and I thought it worked with the idea of him making a deal with Michael, a demon.

The main base for the universe the story will be centered in is a blend of DC and Jujutsu Kaisen. This can be seen by Michael's possession of Ryomen Sukuna's Cursed Technique: Malevolent Shrine and the presence of Satoru Gojo.

If you didn't realize so far, this is another story based on the Waifu Catalog as a base to develop off from. I wanted to find a way to connect my different WC stories besides the presence of Ultra Instinct Shaggy as the recruiter, so I decided to create a faction within the Company that all of my Contractor OCs will be a part of. As such, the Consortium came into being.

I wanted to do a little more to try and create a more fleshed out take on the Company and Catalog since most stories I see treat it as a phone app for the most part instead of a real functioning multiversal organization. So, I wanted to delve into the idea of different groups of Contractors in the Company vying for control and power amongst each other.

Let me know what you think in a review. Did I explain everything well or do I need to work on that? Did I do a good job of writing the attack on Michael or could it do with some polishing? If you have the time, it does a lot to help keep my writing motivation up to see you guys engaging with the story.

If you want to keep up to date, make sure to favorite and follow so you will know when a new chapter is released.

I will be releasing a few new stories before I resume my update cycle, so check those out if you enjoyed this.

A pleasure as always,

Titan900