"Ugh!"
Once again, Lord Mar-Vell awoke from Eternity's dream, sitting up in the darkness deep within his sanctuary.
Chaotic, irregular gongs and drums sounded by his ears. Some deformed lumps of flesh blew flutes rolled from flesh tubes as they happily ran past the lord's bed.
The weight of his flesh left Mar-Vell unable to adapt for a while. He could only sit still and wait for his soul to mesh with his body once more, waiting for the flesh and blood in the bathtub-sized bed to merge into his body and provide strength.
Only after a moment did he rise, put on the uniform hanging beside the bed, and once more assume Captain Marvel's appearance.
He took a cup to the basin beside him, scooped up a large cupful of viscous sludge mixed from blood and meat paste, and gulped it down before letting out a satisfied cry.
His cry sounded like a donkey, and like a horse, but nothing like a human.
Opening eyes that glowed red, he looked at the bedroom decorated with tentacles and all manner of flesh tumors, then called out:
"Strange?"
Doctor Strange was not especially insane. He still retained some reason and had always been used as a butler.
Yet there was no response. Other than the mad, irregular noise still echoing through the depths of the building, no one answered him.
The lord was slightly puzzled, but then he laughed. He walked to a mirror, looked at Death's corpse placed within the mirror space, and contentedly drank another large cup of blood-and-flesh slurry.
There were several more such mirrors in the bedroom, each preserving a Death. Whenever Mar-Vell looked into a mirror, he could see his own shadow completely covering Death, and it always brought him immense pleasure.
Then he heard a