Creation.
To some, it is the act of making, of producing, of building, and of forging. But to others, it is the title for all that is. Every world, every universe, every reality. They all fall under it’s banner.
To simplify, it is like a multi-story building, one in which many different and often strange beings reside.
And like a building, there are those who are in charge of Creation’s maintenance. Gods, Goddesses, Divinities, Aedra, Holy Spirits, Demons, Daedra… There are many names, and many entities who bare such names, but they all generally agree that they are Ascended, those who have managed to become so powerful that they simply could not exist in a physical form anymore. So they move on to the Between, the realm between realms. It too has many names, but the most common are The Void, The Between, and The Nothing.
The Ascended all have the job of carefully maintaining a balance and efficiency in their own separate sections of Creation. Some denounce this, deciding to use their not inconsiderable power to do whatever they want, but most work tirelessly to ensure Creation lives.
But there are rules.
Because these ascended entities are so powerful, descending to the more stable portions of Creation can be dangerous. Their power is simply too potent, too great. Creation’s more rigid areas cannot handle the pressure of such a being existing within it. And wars between the Ascended are particularly taboo. When power like that is thrown into the act of Destruction, Creation pays the price.
And so rules were made, and agreements were signed. Never can an Ascended directly oppose another, nor can an Ascended descend on the mortal coil. Any who break these rules risk sparking a war between the Ascended that could end Creation.
Even if their intentions are benevolent, an Ascended must never be direct in their work. After all, even they are denizens of Creation, and if Creation ceased to be, so to would they.
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Between worlds, in the place where Creation was far more malleable and capable of handling the pressure of the Ascended’s very existence, a single Ascended studied a screen in front of his face.
He frowned, not sure what to think of the information he was seeing. “...what are you doing?” he asked seemingly no one.
Many a time had an Ascended asked if there were levels above Ascended, of entities even greater than them. Most didn’t have an answer. Most didn’t really care. It was a curiosity to them, nothing more.
Most were better off in their ignorance.
But some… ah, but some knew the truth. After all, if the Ascended were the maintenance crew of the structure that was Creation, then obviously there would be a Department Heads, Share-Holders, a CEO... hell even a janitorial crew! Though they tended to be a last resort...
Alfonso the Red was one such Department Head. His job was to oversee the balance of Power within his section of Creation, a section a bit more malleable than most others. He was positive that a low level Ascended could descend upon one particular world with only minor issues.
In fact, some one thousand years ago, that very event happened. Unfortunately, the act of forcing said Ascended's unshackled mind into a physical vessel had twisted him. Thankfully, the residents of that world were hardy and brave, and in time managed to restrain him. As punishment, the other Ascended locked him into that world until such a time he could prove to be responsible with his power.
Alfonso shook his head, forcing his thoughts to get back on track.
A soul was in the Between. A mortal soul. It had entered from one end and was making all haste towards the other, likely attempting to transfer from one world to another. The thing was that dimensional travel wasn’t really possible for a mortal soul. They were too intertwined with the world they came from.
So how had this soul accomplished leaving his world without doing the equivalent of killing himself with the mother of all whiplash?
With a flexing of his power, he grasped the soul and brought it to a stop. Or… he tried to. The soul blasted through his grip like it was so much tissue paper, startling the Ascended and causing him a fair amount of pain through backlash.
More than that though, he now knew how this soul had come to transfer through worlds so effortlessly. He recognized the tinge of power cradling the soul when it touched his own power.
This was one of Her souls, and it was being sent on its next mission.
Curiously, Alfosno transported himself to the soul and moved alongside it, examining it to see if it was anyone he knew of. He gaped after a moment.
“Clark Kent?!” he nearly choked. “What could manage to kill you of all beings?” Alfonso didn't admit this often, but he sometimes enjoyed viewing the events of the DC section, convoluted as it at times was. Superman was a man to admire, even to the standards of the Ascended. Many Ascended actually had a betting pool going to predict when Clark would ascend and join them.
Now honestly curious, Alfonso examined where the soul was heading… and blinked. “Equestria?” he asked, nonplussed. “I mean, sure, that’s where that idiot’s at, but the Ponies can deal with him just fine. Why would that world need a Hero Soul like you?”
A thought occurred to him, and he once more examined the soul. His face screwed up in confusion. “And you don’t have your powers… at least not the ones reliant on your body. Makes sense, I suppose. There’s no Kryptonians in that world.”
He scratched his metaphorical chin for a moment. “Hmm… if the Boss-Lady is sending the Superman himself in, something bad must be coming. It looks like she flubbed the process though. Not horribly, but enough to mess up the power transference matrix. That could have had some interesting fireworks…” Reaching into a portal that appeared next to him, Alfonso withdrew a vial filled with red liquid. “Let’s see…” Carefully, he once more extended his power to Clark, but this time without aggression. The power cradling Clark let him through once it realized his intent, and Alfonso felt a soft touch on his mind. It was a feeling of gratitude. Seems She knew She had messed up as well. She must have been in a hurry.
He smirked and unstoppered the vial. “No problem, Boss,” he said in response to the gratitude, before carefully directing the red liquid into a small pocket dimension connected to Clark’s soul. “There.” He made the now empty vial vanish. “Godspeed, Hero Soul,” he said, stopping and watching as the soul continued its journey to Equestria.
Blood.
It really was a powerful reagent in almost any kind of magic. And the blood of Superman? Ha! Top quality was almost an insult.
What Alfonso had done was give Clark’s future body the means to ingest the undiluted blood of his original body, and alter their genetics to match that of a Kryptonian body. Clark would still have the body of the race he was reborn as, but said body would be absorbing solar radiation roughly three or four years after his soul settled in.
Alfonso also made it so that was all the body did, preventing incidents like what happened to Clark in his youth when forced to face the truth of his body. All that power… locked away by mental barriers. Such a waste. The restrictions would start lifting once Clark began remembering his life. Hopefully, this made his mission on that world a lot easier.
It also had the potential to backfire horrendously, as power like that was very tempting. That was why Alfonso also limited how much solar radiation Clark’s new body could store, preventing ridiculous levels of strength that could crack planets. After all, too much power was a bad thing, especially in power-rich environments like Equestria. The power of Superman mixed the magic of whatever species he was reborn as would suffice.
Ah well, it was out of his hands now. Back to work. Nightmare Moon’s power levels had been fluctuating quite rapidly recently, and it was kind of worrying. That power felt familiar, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why… Still, she was scheduled for release from her imprisonment soon, so maybe that’s all it was.