Author here, I appreciate everyone who voted on the previous chapter and it looks like our protagonist will be a man. This next chapter is the introduction of our protagonist into this new world and for that, I will use different points of view, let me know in the comments if you like or not this style of writing.
Now, in this chapter, there will be several spoilers to the novel MY THREE WIVES ARE BEAUTIFUL VAMPIRES, especially from chapter 962 onwards so if that is a problem please read when you've caught up with the story, I feel I should also give a little context of my understanding of Victor Elderblood and his power, which is just ridiculous, (this was one of the reasons why this chapter took longer to write). So I'm sorry in advance for the info dump but I feel it is necessary.
As I understand it, because it is a little crazy when Victor Elderblood became a God, something changed, he became UNIQUE, and every other timeline or version of Victor is destroyed and merged with the Main timeline, making that the only to exist.
Inside Victor, there exists another form, his "nightmare form" which will later become an outer god like the gods from LOVECRAFT stories. Eldritch Victor is constantly protecting his wive's past and his own from any interference, especially from 'outsiders' (who I guess are reborn people who wish to go to his universe) who try to enter his universe.
He exists in the void outside of his universe observing every timeline, dimension, and reality within his universe and altering it as he pleases, he removed all entrances to the universes and focused them on a single point where all the outsiders will enter only to be consumed by him. What causes me confusion is that although we are told that the events of the story take place in a single Universe (in this universe there are different 'sectors') where all different timelines were erased. In chapter 962 we see Victor eliminating an Outsider who wishes to enter the MTBWAV universe only to die immediately in the hands of Victor who later asks the 'RECORDS' where he came from and proceeds to eliminate the universe he came from like it's the easiest thing to do. So we can guess that there exists a lot of different universes and the MTBWAV is only one of them, but it is also inferred that the REGULATORS OF EXISTANCE only exist within the MTBWAV universe while the Records have some kind of knowledge and power over the other Universes considering it knew exactly where the outsider came from and told VICTOR.
Anyway, I am telling you all of this because even though this is my story and I will write whatever I like, I did want it to make some kind of sense within the Canon of the stories I am making my world about. So in the chapter, you'll see a hint of my justification for the existence of the protagonist and his world without going too deep into it considering I'll do it as the story progresses.
Now we return to the chapter.
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-So he has resurfaced-said two almost identical ancient voices
POV: Rick C-137
Somewhere in the infinity of the multiverse — in a forgotten and discarded sector of a newborn universe— a battered spaceship made of garbage drifted through space storms, dodging alien hunting packs and other Ricks from the citadel. Inside, amidst a tangled mess of half-sentient wires and spilled bottles of alien vodka, Rick was drunk. Not your average "lost my pants" drunk. No. He was System-Pissing-Off drunk.
"Goddamn... fuck—REGULATORS," Rick slurred, staggering barefoot across the ship. His hair was a mess. His portal gun was sparking. His last backup clone of himself had filed for emancipation. "Who do these existential boundary gods think they are?! I'm Rick fucking Sanchez!"
A green portal was fired from his gun. When he was about to cross through it, he felt as if he was hitting a wall, the portal gun started beeping and saying in a robotic voice "Crital erro4/&%$r can't con342ct to other dimentions outside of this se3490tor?"
Rick shot it mid-sentence.
He was stuck. Locked in a universe where even gods feared to tread, and those who wanted couldn't because of an impenetrable and deadly barrier around it. The Regulators of Existance—those smug, silent, reality-threading bastards—had sealed the borders of this sector and only beings of higher authority determined by the system could travel outside of it.
Rick's bloodshot eyes stared at a console. His lips curled into a twisted grin.
"Alright... you wanna lock me in? Fine. I'll burn the whole goddamn cosmic hierarchy down."
He started laughing, coughing, crying, and then laughing again. A solid Tuesday.
And that's when he hatched The Plan.
"If I can't leave… then I'll create something that can. Something they'll never see coming. A weapon forged from the best traits in the multiverse. Beautiful. Terrifying. Overpowered. And maybe... just maybe... weirdly hot. Yeah. Let's cook."
He opened up his multiversal scanner, still slightly sticky from the time it got into an argument with a slime girl, and began looking for a world with potential. Rick's fingers flew across the screen, hunting, selecting, slicing, stealing. And then he found it, a world that defied all odds.
From that world, he selected 5 people, any more and the child had the risk of being born dead.
He picked the DNA like a man mixing a killer cocktail:
Gu Yuena: the Dragon Queen, for her mastery of every element and ancient bloodline so potent it practically growled.
Scathach Scarlett: The strongest female vampire, an immortal warrior who had been fighting since before Jesus was born, and genetic material so divine it seemed to require celestial consent.
Gojo Satoru: for his goddamn Six Eyes, his busted Limitless Technique, and his stupidly perfect swagger because why not.
Nico Robin: for her intellect, ancient inheritance, and adaptable genes, and—if Rick was being honest—his weakness for women who could snap his neck while whispering Latin poetry.
Vermeil – A demonic succubus-mage with infinite eather and erotic magic? Oh, hell yes.
As the DNA cocktail swirled in the core of the bio-fabricator, Rick muttered, "That's a sex-ed teacher's nightmare and a war god's wet dream."
Rick looked at it, suddenly solemn. "You're gonna be my bullet through heaven's skull, kid."
"Now I just need a worthy womb. Let's go on a hunt."
Rick randomly scanned the planet. He didn't know where. And he didn't care. His eyes were already drifting. The embryo would need the best womb possible — genetically perfect, able to adapt to the monstrosity he created, structurally elastic, and hot as hell.
The scanner pinged.
Location: a city with a forgettable name. Likely somewhere in America.
Target acquired: Helen Parr, aka Elastigirl. Statistically the hottest woman within 3,000 kilometers. MILF energy is off the charts.
Rick squinted. "That'll do."
He warped in, mid-rainstorm. No one saw him. Or if they did, he erased it. He entered her home, bypassed all security systems, and with a flick of his wrist, implanted the embryo deep into her womb. Her body accepted it instantly. Not surprising, after all, she had already given birth to 3 children.
"Congrats, Mrs. Parr. You're officially carrying the most dangerous being in the multiverse. And we didn't even have dinner first."
Rick stumbled out of the house and into the night, pants missing again, and waved his hand to release his memory-wiping pulse. The entire city forgot him. Helen Parr simply believed she was pregnant with her fourth child — no further questions asked.
Meanwhile, Rick collapsed inside his ship, mumbling: "No more shots with Leviathan vodka... or was that succubus venom?"
And with that, he passed out cold.
Beyond Time. Beyond Form. In the Halls Between All Realities.
A ripple moved through the tapestry of everything.
A presence.
One that had not been there before.
"...Do you feel it?" a voice asked. Neither masculine nor feminine, yet both. It echoed like the sigh of stars being born.
DEATH turned, his form cloaked in shifting mists that carried the weight of a trillion endings.
"A thread that doesn't belong," he murmured. "Yet it is… familiar. Not a sector. Not a world. Not even part of our firmament." His gaze narrowed. "Another universe. Coiled around ours like a serpent."
From the void, a figure appeared—subtle as silence, yet undeniable. They had no name spoken aloud, only a presence that bent the edge of reality with every breath.
"It mimics our laws," the being said. "And yet rejects our touch."
"Call the others," DEATH whispered. "This… cannot be ignored."
One by one, they arrived.
The Primordials.
They gathered before the anomaly: a celestial storm, veiled in clouds of memory and mist, bound by an invisible barrier of laws that none of them had authored.
"It draws upon our Concepts," THE UNIVERSAL TREE said, voice crystalline and slow. "A mirror of our essence. Feeding from us… but not of us."
"And yet," muttered LIMBO, narrowing his silvered gaze, "we cannot reach into it. We cannot touch it, change it, end it."
"I feel myself inside it," TIME whispered, unsettled. "A fragment. A dream of me. As if I were born there too. It is wrong. It must be undone."
Before any could act—
Two voices echoed.
Twin pillars of origin.
Voices not heard since the Dawning.
"Do not interfere."
The Regulators turned. The air tightened.
The Two who had slumbered since before the First Light stood now.
Silent for eons.
Suddenly awake.
And watching.
"Why?" DEATH demanded. "It is an intruder. A child pretending to be one of us. It will grow. Consume. Replicate. We must excise it before its weight distorts the balance."
"You may attempt," Positivity replied. "But understand that is his doing, he has resurfaced—should you strike it, you will cease to be."
A pause. Even the storm hushed.
"The Veil that holds it is not merely protection. It is Law. No force beyond it may reach within. Nor may what lies inside escape."
"And this… being?" ABYSS asked softly. "This 'he who has resurfaced' you speak of?"
"You are too young to know, but He is as we are," said Negativity. "Born before measurement. Before difference. He was born from the singular being. But unlike us, he was cast adrift—forgotten. Until now."
"OH please, do tell" Suddenly an eerie almost maniacal voice was heard
He arrived with no warning. No herald. No mercy.
His form was human only because he chose to. His eyes were burning eclipses, and his breath was made of dreams that had died screaming.
It was a being that shouldn't exist yet, It was Victor Elderblood and he was pissed. Creation was being erased just because of his emotions.
POV: Victor Elderblood
In a realm beyond the universe in the abyss in between—Victor lay at peace.
Abyssal serenity surrounded him.
The bed he rested upon was stitched from the threads of collapsed realities, suspended in the void between universes, after all, it was the only thing that could hold him. Wrapped around him, nuzzled close, were his wives and daughters—goddesses to him, abominations to all else.
To the uninitiated, their forms would induce madness. Eldritch beauty twisted into impossible forms—flesh sculpted from madness, eyes like event horizons, voices like collapsing stars. Cosmic horrors of unspeakable terror.
But to Victor, they were his sanctuary.
His family.
His joy.
They had just finished reinforcing the barrier between Universes. Every day, thousands of interlopers dared to try.
Every day, thousands were consumed by Victor's hunger, reduced to atoms, and fed to the furnace of his core. Each added to his power, if only imperceptibly.
But tonight… something was different.
As Victor traced idle circles on the back of his wife whose skin shimmered like dying galaxies, he felt it. A ripple. A whisper in the abyss.
He stood.
A pale girl—his daughter, Azathoth—sat up beside him. Her skin was flawless marble, her hair spun from shadows, her gaze alight with knowing madness.
"What is it, Father?" she asked, her voice distorting the silence.
Victor's eyes narrowed. "Another outsider. Another insect interrupting my peace."
Azathoth tilted her head, amused. "That makes 1600 today. They never learn."
She rose with elegance, the void reshaping itself around her. "Shall I deal with it?"
Victor raised a hand. "No need, child. It's beneath you. It will only take a moment."
But then... something shifted.
The presence didn't behave like the others. It didn't attempt to breach his universe directly. Instead, it… slid around. As if avoiding contact altogether.
Victor's brow furrowed.
And then—nothing.
The signature vanished.
No explosion. No collapse. Just… gone.
For the first time in millennia, Victor felt something wholly alien.
Confusion.
He stared, silent, analyzing the trail left behind.
Azathoth approached, her voice soft with uncharacteristic worry. "Father…?"
Victor did not move. "The force retreated. But it didn't escape. It… dissolved. Intentionally."
His words were calm, but within, storms brewed.
And then—they felt it.
Simultaneously.
Something appeared.
Not from beyond… but within.
Out in the borders of the Cosmos.
As if it had always been there.
Azathoth's form flickered—her shape destabilizing in sync with her emotions.
Hate.
Concern.
And… a hint of Love?
Victor turned sharply to her, eyes glowing with unreadable intensity.
"Yes," he said slowly. "I feel it too. A small universe… mimicking ours. No, mirroring it. But it's not part of the Design of the Records."
"It's not the universe, Father," she whispered, her voice now trembling. "It's you."
Victor froze.
She continued. "I am attuned to your soul in all things Victor. Across all forms. And within that false realm… I feel you. A fragment. Young. Incomplete. But undeniably you."
She had never called him by his name before.
Victor.
That alone sent shivers through the deepest folds of existence.
Victor extended his senses.
But this universe was cloaked. Enclosed in an illusion of paradox, wrapped in a reflection of cosmic laws he himself had helped shape.
Still, he pierced the veil.
And what he saw sparked both awe and fury.
It was a world reminiscent of his own before ascension—before being a progenitor, before godhood. A young version of himself walked there, unknowing. That world seemed like his own but it had fundamental differences.
But that wasn't what enraged him.
There was another.
A being not of his blood, but laced with his essence.
A creature forged with the DNA of Scathach—his wife.
And worse… their fates were entangled.
Soul-bonded.
As if ordained.
A progenitor not born of his will.
A reflection without his sanction.
Victor's wrath surged.
He stepped forward.
And vanished.
Space folded like paper.
And at the edge of the forbidden reality, he materialized.
Having heard the last words and statements from the rulers of existence.
Victor's voice cut through dimensions like divine judgment.
"Oh, please," he said, voice cold and terrible. "Do tell."
But what happened next... It's a story for another time.
POV: Helen Parr
Helen Parr wasn't expecting another child.
Life had finally reached a kind of balance. Violet And Jazelle were in high school, Dash was still too fast for his own good.
Then came the nausea.
Helen stared at the bathroom mirror one quiet Tuesday morning, toothbrush dangling in her hand. She didn't feel sick. Just off. Something in her body had shifted, and it was enough to make her go to the drugstore for a test.
She didn't tell Bob right away.
Not until the second test. Not until the doctor confirmed it.
When she finally sat across from him at the dinner table that night and told him she was pregnant, he blinked three times and dropped his fork into his mashed potatoes.
"You're serious?" he asked, stunned.
Helen smiled. "Looks like number four's on the way."
He laughed, loud and goofy. "Wow. Another Parr. Okay. We've done this before. We can do it again."
She nodded, smiling with him. But something in her chest fluttered—not nerves, not joy. Something harder to name.
She expected the usual symptoms. She'd done this two times already, three if you counted the twins—morning sickness, back pain, cravings. But this time was… different.
She wasn't tired.
If anything, she had more energy than usual. She could stretch farther, and hold her transformations longer without needing to rest. Her joints felt looser, easier. She assumed it was because she'd stayed in better shape this time around.
Still, it nagged at her.
At night, when Bob snored softly beside her, she'd lie awake with her hand on her belly, feeling something she couldn't explain.
In the second month, she and Bob went to the doctor for the first time and they were surprised when she said the baby was developing quickly.
Not alarmingly so—just a little ahead of schedule. "Could be genetics," the OB-GYN said. "Some babies just grow faster. Nothing to worry about."
Helen nodded, even as her mind raced. None of her other kids had been like this. Not even Dash and he was a human rocket.
She didn't say anything to Bob. He was already so excited—picking out names, making room in the house. She didn't want to cloud that.
Jazelle, though, noticed something.
"You're warmer," she said one evening, curling up beside her on the couch.
Helen laughed. "I'm always warm, sweetheart. Comes with the mom job."
Jazelle looked up at her. "No, I mean... something feels different. Around you."
Helen didn't know what to say to that.
A couple of months progressed smoothly, almost too smoothly and Helen caught herself lifting the entire couch one-handed while vacuuming under it.
She stared at it in surprise. Not even a strain.
Maybe it was adrenaline. Or maybe her powers were adapting to help with the pregnancy. That wasn't unheard of—quirk users often had minor fluctuations depending on stress, hormones, and physical changes.
She brought it up casually to her sister during lunch.
"You ever get stronger during pregnancy?" she asked.
Her sister looked at her with doubt "What do you mean?"
"I meant did your powers become stronger while you were pregnant?"
"Not really, unless you count mood swings and cravings as power-ups." her sister joked "Why?"
Helen hesitated. "No reason. Just… curious."
When her pregnancy made it to the sixth month the baby kicked. Finally. For real.
Helen was in the kitchen, making a sandwich, when it happened—one solid thump that made her nearly drop the peanut butter.
"Okay, little one," she muttered, hand on her belly. "You're in there."
The kicks started becoming more frequent. Stronger. Some days, it made her uncomfortable—like her stomach was stretching a bit more than it should.
The doctors still said everything looked fine.
"He's growing quickly," they said, smiling. "Healthy, active. Probably going to be a strong one."
Helen smiled too, but the words stuck with her, almost letting it slip away. She and Bob had decided to let the gender of their baby as a mystery until he or she was born. But just now the doctor revealed it by mistake.
He
She was gonna have a boy.
When the due date started approaching Helen started having weird dreams.
Nothing magical or ominous—just odd. She was back in her hero days, running through collapsing buildings, except sometimes the buildings were familiar. Places from her childhood. Her school. Her old bedroom.
Sometimes, she'd be holding a baby she couldn't quite see. She'd wake up before she could look at its face.
Still, she didn't think much of it. Probably hormones. Or stress.
Violet asked her once, "Are you nervous about the baby?"
Helen paused.
"No," she said. "But I'm not sure I'm ready either."
It was also around this time that her body started aching.
Not unusual at this stage—but it felt deeper like something inside her muscles was being re-tuned. Her flexibility was almost too good. Stretching didn't feel like work anymore—it felt like breathing, and she also noticed that she looked a couple of years younger like when she was pregnant with Dash.
She stopped using the car remote to open the garage and just stretched her arm from inside the house.
Bob noticed.
"You're getting comfortable with the powers again."
She shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Just easier now."
He wrapped his arms around her from behind, resting his hand on her stomach. "He's gonna be amazing. Like you."
Helen didn't say anything. She just leaned into him and closed her eyes.
The last weeks of her pregnancy passed and the day of the due date finally arrived.