Jed and Chris wait impatiently, with Jed bouncing his leg and Chris playing ML VERY, VERY LOUDLY.


    Beatle sighed, facepalming, and he just slid in some cash to the cashier.


    “My Lord…” said the cashier.


    “Tell anyone, and I’ll tell everyone about your little affair,” he says, with conviction, as the cashier nods and lets him in.


    “Kickback for a meeting? Shame, My Lord,” smiled the man at back.


    Beatle sighs. “These two idiots’ driver’s licenses are needed prior to the deadline. And you forced my hand to do something so vicious. Do you really want to be remembered as the man who destroyed my reputation?”


    “Least I’d be remembered!”


    “And hated.”


    “Am already hated.”


    “Ohhhh… Do you know how serious this is…? You and your family will be strung up.. Not by my people… But my enemies or loose allies I just… keep around.”


    The man squints his eyes. “What do you want?”


    “One. These two’s licenses. Two? I want info… On Doomer…”


    Now…


    “YOU COMMITTED KICKBACK?!?!” asked Miguel.


    “Doesn’t matter what I did. It’s what I did it for. In order to achieve change in this system, you gotta dirty your hands at least once.”


    “Yeah. He killed a carrying woman one time,” said Billy.


    “SHE HAD A BUN IN THE OVEN!?!?” asked Miguel.


    “She was a savage barbaric cultist who committed statutory rape,” replied Beatle.


    “Child was innocent,” justified Billy.


    “Either me or you, Billy,” said Beatle.


    “Fair,” sighed Billy.


    “Whatever… My head hurts…” sighed Anna.


    “Okay, Beatz… The preg lady murderer…”


    “Self defense.”


    “Whatevs! We gotta deck Doomer ON THE SCHNOZZ!!! What’d you gather?”


    Beatle shows a board full of Pinoy politicians in some sort of thread web of lies all connected to Beatle.


    “Prometheus was compromised!?” asked Miguel.


    “Yes and no. Actually, the system was, and Pro knew about it. Fighting it for years. He was protecting you from it so he never mentioned me to you. I used to preach in Nueva Yorca. Guess what? Some rulers their actually sided with Prime. Others are just Pinoy politicians. Me Christ… Real doozy. Like the Piggybank Scam. Or that weird CIA thing where the Prez was assassinated by Americans.”


    “Myth,” said Jed.


    “Debatable. Plus, I can sense reality. Lmao,” said Beatle. “Anyway. Back to the conspiracy.”


    “Psh! What’s next? Fernando Narciso WAS A DICTATOR!?!?”


    “Y… Yes he was…” said Beatle.


    “No! His son saved the Philippines.”


    “His son created me and Aurora. Got it on TikTok Live.”


    “That’s horrible. Who knew that a Dictator’s son and his hubris could create an ever WORSE leader that would cause the Multiversal Apocalypse?”


    “I… I did… I literally preached that-... HAVE NONE OF YOU READ MY BOOKS!?!?”


    “I… read the table of contents!” smiled Anna.


    “I read ‘em all,” said Fred.


    “I CANNOT READ!!!” yelled Gerard.


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    “Dyslexia,” said Jed.


    “Mentally handicapped,” said Chris.


    “I hate reading,” smiled Miguel. “I liked that book of yours called Noli Me Tangere, though!”


    “That was Rizal,” said Beatle.


    “Then, no. Sorry.”


    Beatle facepalms. “Okay. Shut up. Listen. A LOT of Politicians have been compromised and have been selling Splooge in the streets. Pro loved you and didn’t want you to be a part of this. Now, you gotta. Remember, kid. The Multiverse is very, very massive. This is literally just a couple of Consuls from ONE universe. The Multiverse is nigh-infinite. All we gotta do is find the top of the pyramid. Who’s doing all this jackassery? But don’t kill him. The best way is to cripple him and then let the world destroy him. Like prestigious writers!”


    “I don’t like these prestigious writers…” said Miguel. “They’re kinda mean when you speak out yo opinion. Like their opinion is like… God’s voice or some shit. Like they get all condescension-...”


    “Condescending,” corrected Anna.


    “Gesundheit.”


    “Here’s how ya do it… When they roast your fiction, you self deprecate. Then you mock them without them knowing! Stroke their ego… THEN KABLAMMY!!! Write about what a huge dickhole conundruman they are,” smiled Beatle.


    “That sounds kinda mean.”


    “It’s hilarious. I made A WHOLE CHARACTER based on Death-...” Beatle turns to Death Leopard. “Uh… Death2UsAll… 64…“


    “Fuck you, Beatle,” said Death Leopard.


    “Fuck you, as well, kindly.”


    “Can we please focus?” asked Black.


    “Right. Right. See this guy?” asked Beatle. “This guy’s name is Coolie Tupa. He is evil incarnate.”


    “Loved that guy in ‘Neverending Stars!’” smiled Anna.


    “How about, ‘Gabi Gabi Luya?’” asked Black.


    “That, too!” smiled Anna.


    “He’s a politician who was voted for being an actor,” said Beatle.


    “Now he’s studying Political Science!” smiled Anna.


    “I JUST committed kickback, dumbass!!! HOW DO YA THINK HE’LL GRADUATE!?!?” growled Beatle.


    “Uhm…? Hardwork?” smiled Anna.


    Miguel raises his hand.


    “No, Miguel. I didn’t write El Fili.”


    Miguel puts his hand down. After a few seconds, he raises his hand again.


    “No, Miguel. I didn’t write Mi Ultimo Adios either. I’m very much alive, dumbass.”


    Miguel puts his hand down.


    “Question,” said Miguel.


    “WHAT!?!?” growled Beatle.


    “Why is this boring?”


    “Because it’s politics and you’re a Filipino who bases every known fact ON FUCKING TIKTOK.”


    “Wow. You’re welcome, world.”


    Beatle turns around, faces the board, and points the Cain Marker at his head. He blasts it, but the blast phases through and dissipates since he has a good heart. Beatle turns back to the others. “We interrogate Coolie Tupa. Also, Anna, try to fuck him, and I will fucking murder you.”


    Miguel smiles. “Me, too!”


    “Hmph! I will!”


    Later…


    Anna sighs. “Gross.”


    Coolie Tupa is strapped on a chair and screams. “Please!” he speaks like a Manilan Conyo. “Help! I need help! I’ll give you money just please let me go!”


    “And peeps from school called ME conyo?” asked Miguel.


    “Hello, Filipino white man! I am an Post-Apocalyptic American white man!” smiled Gerard.


    “Shit… I’M COMPROMISED!!! HELP!!! HEEELP!!!”


    Beatle sighs and punches him in the face.


    “FUCK!!! DO NOT BREAK MY NOSE!!! I JUST HAD THAT PLASTIC SURGEONED!!!”


    Beatle punches him again. “Doomer. Why are you working for him?”


    “Fuck off!!! HELP!!!”


    Arachne tightens the strings around him.


    “Oh, hello, there,” he smirked, as Miguel punches him this time.


    “She’s 15,” said Miguel.


    “It’s okay! 13 is the legal age in the Philippines!” smiled Coolie, as Anna punched him this time.


    “Dude… No, it isn’t,” said Miguel.


    “Everything I knew is a lie,” said Anna.


    Beatle punches his nose again.


    “You… You really think the Philippines can survive without Aurora? Aurora is the answer to everything, asshole…” he coughed.


    “What makes you say that?”


    “If we stop killing his people for fuel… Now what? We die… The Multiverse collapses. The Splooge is the only glue that holds the worlds together. Everything Prometheus built will be gone. He knew what he was making was horrible was wrong when it was too late. He built a system modeled after the Philippine politics. He was your age then… Well? HOW!?!? Anarchy? Or authoritarianism? I choose freedom,” he laughed. “Oh, Beatle… I bet you just enjoyed how Black fucked me over you an your Earth…”


    Beatle points a blaster at his face and shoots him, killing him.


    Miguel’s eyes widen. “WHY!?!?”


    Beatle spins the chair around and reveals that he had a screwdriver in his hand and was cutting the rope open, preparing to kill them both with it.


    “That wouldn’t have killed us.”


    “I don’t care,” said Beatle, walking away.


    Anna sighs, crossing her arms. “There goes my favorite show.”


    Miguel asks. “Why’d you kill him?”


    “He knows something about ya…” said Beatle.


    “That being…?”


    Later…


    Miguel’s eyes widen, facepalming in horror.


    Beatle just crosses his arms.


    Both of them are watching the video caught on CCTV, where Miguel violently mauls Tyrone. His eyes are red, strangely, for some unknown reason.


    “I don’t… remember doing this…” said Miguel, horrified.


    Beatle sighs. “I know. You dissociated for the first time.”


    “What?”


    “You blacked out. Your id, your animal-like instinct took control because of your… Aswang side. But all Miguels dissociate in different ways. Yours is just… violent…”


    “Beatle… I killed him… He was my friend.”


    “Tyrone was never our friend. Death Leopard and I, for example, are just work friends.”


    “I have to turn myself in.”


    “If you do, the Multiverse will be in shambles. No. We’re gonna cover this up.”


    “He had a family.”


    “So do you. And he tried to kill you. It was his mistake. Self-defense, even. But the way your body reacted to it.. Mauling him like a wild bear… An Aswang… People will fear you. They will hate you. To make this easier for you, we could cover it up.”


    “And if they try to figure me out?”


    “You’re the Emperor of the Multiverse. Other than the Morningstars, they’re nothing to you. No one will question your authority unless they see that you’re weak.”


    “Beatle… I killed a man. A friend,” Miguel sobbed.


    “No, you didn’t. It never happened,” Beatle stands, walking away.


    “Am I a bad guy?”


    “No. Just… take control of your emotions more often. Don’t let it control you.”


    “Sometimes… When I wash the dishes or garden… I go blank… I begin thinking bad stuff about me… Like a broken tape recorder… over and over…”


    “So do I, kid.”


    “Are we a bad guy? What… What’s wrong with me…?”


    Beatle kneels before him and hugs him. “Absolutely nothing, my Lord.”


    Miguel sobs, hugging Beatle back.