Hitman With A Badass System

1412  Gaya is Pregnant?

"This is gonna hurt," Michael said, his voice tight with urgency. He conjured a lick of dark flames, carefully adjusting the intensity, and lowering the power until it was a controlled burn.

"What's gonna?" Gaya began, her voice laced with confusion. But before she could finish the question, Michael grabbed her foot, his hand, wreathed in dark flames, clamping around her ankle.

"Motherfucker!" Gaya screamed, her body convulsing as the flames burned her skin, searing away the corruption, the disease.

It was agonizing but necessary. He could feel her pain, her agony, and it fueled his anger. He glared into the darkness, his eyes burning with a cold fury. This thing this Mater Lacrimosa had hurt her. And for that, it would pay. Then, he gently poured a healing potion over her foot, the liquid hissing as it came into contact with the burned flesh. The green veins receded, vanishing as the potion worked its magic, restoring her skin, and healing the damage.

But they weren't safe. Not yet. Mater Lacrimosa was still out there lurking in the darkness and waiting for another chance to strike.

And then it lunged. A blur of motion, a flicker of something in the darkness, aiming straight for Gaya.

Reacting on instinct, Michael pushed her out of the way, a surge of power that sent her stumbling backward. He met Mater Lacrimosa head-on, his hand lashing out, connecting with something solid. Nôv(el)B\\jnn

He slapped it.

Hard.

Mater Lacrimosa recoiled, its form flickering, its shriek a mix of pain and surprise.

Recovering from her near-death experience, Gaya stared at the spot where Mater Lacrimosa had been, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"Don't hit me!" she blurted out, her voice a desperate plea. "I'm I'm pregnant!"

Mater Lacrimosa it froze. Mid-air. Its form flickering, its movements hesitant. Its eyes if you could call them that widened, a flicker of uncertainty within their depths. And was that doubt?

"You're going to be a mother?" Mater Lacrimosa's voice, no longer a shriek but a soft, melodious whisper, filled the chamber. Then, it moved closer to Gaya, its form flickering in the darkness and its movements hesitant.

Gaya, thankfully, couldn't see the thing. Couldn't see the horror of its face. But she could feel it touch, cold and clammy like death. She felt it its hand on her stomach. A gentle touch but unsettling.

"Motherhood" Mater Lacrimosa whispered, its voice raspy. "It's a beautiful thing. To create. To nurture. To love."

"Yeah, it's fucking great," Gaya said through gritted teeth, trying to hide the grimace on her face, trying to ignore the nausea that rose in her throat.

"You will cherish this child," Mater Lacrimosa continued, its voice taking on a dreamy quality. "You will protect it. With your life."

"Damn right, I will," Gaya said, her voice strained. "So, why don't you just fuck off back to whatever hellhole you crawled out of, and leave us the fuck alone?"

Having teleported behind the thing, Michael watched the exchange with a mixture of disgust and fascination. He expected a fight but not this. Not whatever the fuck this was.

"You will love this child," Mater Lacrimosa said insistently. "More than anything."

"Yeah, sure," Gaya said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm gonna love it so much. Now seriously. Fuck off."

On the other hand, Mater Lacrimosa's hand was still resting on Gaya's stomach. And then it recoiled as if burned.

"You're lying," it hissed, its voice cold and menacing. "You don't want this child."

10:38

Michael's grip on his sword tightened as he twisted the blade, the black flames searing Mater Lacrimosa's essence. On the other hand, Gaya, her own blade a whirlwind of motion, hacked and slashed as Mater Lacrimosa's screams grew weaker. Soon, its movements became more sluggish, until finally, it stopped moving. As a result, the darkness that had shrouded the chamber receded, fading away like smoke, revealing the full extent of the horror.

The chamber was exactly as they'd left it. The bones of Mater Lacrimosa's victims still littered the floor, a grim reminder of the suffering that had taken place within these walls. But the presence of Mater Lacrimosa was gone.

"Is it over?" Gaya asked, heaving for breath.

"Seems like it," Michael replied, his gaze sweeping across the chamber but his senses were still on high alert. "But good thinking. With the pregnant talk. You almost caught me off guard with that one."

"Yeah, well," she muttered. "You're not the only one who can improvise. Besides, you're the asshole who doesn't want kids." Gaya rolled her eyes.

Michael sighed. It was a conversation they'd had many times before. Gaya wanted a family and children. A normal life. Or as normal as it got for the God of Darkness and the Goddess of Monsters. But he couldn't. Not with everything that was going on. He had too many enemies and too many responsibilities. Bringing a child into this world, into this chaos would be irresponsible and even cruel.

He'd always been honest with her, at least about that. He didn't want kids. Not now. Maybe someday. When things were different. When the world was safer. But not now. And Gaya accepted that as she had never pressured him or demanded anything. Instead, she had always been supportive and understanding.

And that's what made him feel even worse.

He was the God of Darkness, the villain of this story, the one who'd killed his own brother, who'd plunged the mortal realm into eternal night. He was selfish. Ruthless. He did what he had to do to survive and win. But Gaya Gaya deserved better. She deserved more. She was a goddess, for fuck's sake. She deserved the world. And he was what? A shitty husband, dragging her through his messes, not giving her what she truly wanted.

"It's not no forever, Gaya," he said gently. "It's just not now. Not with everything that's going on. It's too dangerous."

"That's what you said in the mortal realm," Gaya pointed out, her voice laced with a hint of resentment.

Michael winced as he knew she was right. He had been postponing and avoiding the issue. Back in the mortal realm, it was the sects, the kingdoms, and Skyhall. He always had an excuse and a reason to wait.

And now it was the Gods. The Pantheon, Andohr, Rin, and The Omegas. It never ended. There was always some new threat and some new crisis.

He understood her frustration and her longing. If their roles had been reversed, if she'd been the one refusing, he knew he would have felt betrayed and resentful.

Despite her own desires, she accepted his reasons. She was a great wife, and he was trying. But it didn't change the fact that he was being a shitty husband.

Fortunately, the awkward silence that had settled between them was broken by a low, rumbling sound. The ceiling above them shifted, a section of it retracting to reveal a staircase, crafted from the bones that littered the floor. They rose, twisting and turning, forming a path to the next level.

Eager to escape the emotional minefield he had just stumbled into, Michael seized the opportunity.

"Up we go," he said, his voice a little too cheerful, as he started towards the staircase. He would take a dozen Mater Lacrimosas over a guilt trip from Gaya any day. At least the physical wounds healed.

Gaya, watching him go, sighed. It was amusing, in a way. The great God of Darkness, the Dark Lord himself, practically fled from a conversation about feelings.

She knew, deep down, that his reluctance to have children wasn't because he didn't want them. It was fear. He grew up as an orphan, tossed aside, and abandoned. He had seen firsthand the cruelty of the world and the pain that came with loss. He was afraid. Afraid of failing as a father and inflicting the same pain he'd endured on someone else.

But she also knew he would be a great father because he was protective, loyal, and fierce. He would do anything for those he cared about.

She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips.

For now, though she had other things to worry about. They had a bow to find and deal with a whole lot of unknown bullshit waiting for them on the next floor.