Reborn as the God-Emperor in Marvel

Bayonetta leaped upward, narrowly avoiding Jeanne's rear wheel as it spun toward her. Jeanne twisted the throttle and sped along the old brick wall. Bayonetta jumped onto her motorcycle, firing her newly repaired pistols—Scarborough Fair—at Jeanne, but Jeanne dodged every shot. Suddenly, Jeanne leaped backward, lunging toward the falling pocket watch.

Defying gravity, Jeanne stood atop her motorcycle, perfectly parallel to the ground. With one foot on the throttle, she vaulted off the bike, snatching the pocket watch just before Bayonetta could reach it. Jeanne then landed gracefully back on her motorcycle as it touched the ground, effortlessly taking control again. Every movement was so fluid and precise, as if she had calculated every variable in the fight, even down to the exact spot where the motorcycle would land. Meanwhile, Bayonetta had only just touched the ground herself.

Jeanne turned her bike around and stopped in front of Bayonetta, holding up the pocket watch for her to see. 

Jeanne spoke, "I've waited a long time for this moment. But you've forgotten your destiny, wasting the last 20 years."

She tossed the pocket watch back to Bayonetta, who caught the stolen item. Bayonetta looked at it in her hand and said, "You're right, I don't recall much about a lake. Care to explain it in detail?"

Jeanne opened the silver pocket watch hanging from her collar, revealing a small mirror. She reapplied her lipstick as she spoke, "The two Observers… Eyes of the World… wielders of the power to control the universe."

Bayonetta had heard this before, but there was something about Jeanne's gaze that piqued her curiosity—an expression of familiarity. Jeanne's eyes reflected the kind of recognition one has for an old friend, a look that triggered even more memories for Bayonetta than she expected.

For a brief moment, she felt herself transported to a place behind iron bars, looking out at a vast hall where a ceremony was taking place. It seemed to be some kind of heirship ritual for a tribe.

"Jeanne, as the heir of the tribe, it's time for you to prove yourself worthy of the title of witch." In front of the red-clad girl stood a woman draped in a black robe. Her elderly voice addressed the girl, "You may choose your opponent—anyone will do."

Suddenly, a throwing knife embedded itself into the wall next to Bayonetta. The red-clad girl turned around.

She had white hair, with pistols strapped to both feet. Her flamboyant crimson attire and the gold-embroidered cloak contrasted sharply with the drab black surroundings.

Her long hair was styled into two buns, tightly wound by her ears and wrapped in golden chains adorned with broom flowers. A delicate chain stretched across her forehead, with three lily-shaped decorations at its center, like a crown. Her neck was wrapped in black, form-fitting fabric that emphasized the lily-shaped pendants hanging beside her hair.

She shouted, "Then let me fight the one who is forbidden!"

This person… Bayonetta thought she looked more and more familiar...

The girl seemed completely unconcerned with the elders' objections—bloodline impurity, sacrilege against the doctrine—none of it mattered to her. "This isn't our first time fighting."

She ignored the elders' shock and directly challenged Bayonetta. "How about a duel with me in this sacred place?" she said. "Isn't that what you've been longing for?"

"If there's no other choice, I suppose I can't refuse," Bayonetta found herself saying, almost automatically. She realized her attire was equally old-fashioned. "You know, I'm quite fond of stuffed animals."

Bayonetta only remembered that the battle had been incredibly difficult. By the time she came to her senses, the person standing before her had vanished, and she was back in the present. Bayonetta still recalled the thrill she felt when accepting the challenge. It seemed like this woman might have been a friend of hers, and they had a deep bond, but she couldn't remember much more at the moment.

One name lingered in her mind—Jeanne. That must be her name.

The town wasn't just inhabited by angels; there were also some ravens. The streets and buildings were ancient and mostly abandoned. Birds roamed freely on the roads, undisturbed by people. The place exuded a sense of desolation, yet there were no weeds, and although the cobblestone streets were uneven, they were impeccably clean, as if someone regularly maintained them.

When Bayonetta opened a sealed stone door, she found herself back in the bustling square of Vigrid. The noise and life rushed back to her, and for a moment, she felt like she had returned to the human world. Normally, those doors were sealed off, and the people of Vigrid couldn't explore what lay beyond. The town's inhabitants were kept away from the secrets of the past—only someone with extraordinary power like Bayonetta could open those doors and glimpse into history.

But Bayonetta felt her greatest discovery wasn't the door; it was that memory. Not only did it remind her of a companion's name, but it also hinted at those halls. Her next goal was to find them and uncover all the secrets they held. Surely, they contained what she needed.

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A man dressed in the robes of the Order of Ragnar, wearing a white hood, ran breathlessly along the stone-brick streets, knocking over many pedestrians. The reason for his frantic escape was a strong, baton-wielding Vigrid enforcer hot on his heels.

He ducked into an alleyway, briefly losing the enforcer, only to be confronted by a young woman. Startled, he stopped in his tracks, backing up a few steps before returning to stand in front of her. He made a show of straightening a non-existent jacket, flipped back his hood, and tossed his long red-and-blue scarf behind him.

"Do you believe in destiny?" He stepped forward, extending a hand to the young woman. Then, just as quickly, he stepped back and tripped the charging enforcer, sending him sprawling. "Destiny binds us together, and no one can separate us."

As he continued to retreat, he crashed into a long table behind a flower shop and tumbled hard to the ground. Then, he vanished into thin air, leaving the young woman from the Order of Ragnar and the enforcer utterly shocked. They rushed over to the table, but there wasn't a trace of him. It was as if he had disappeared into nothingness.

"I do believe," Solomon said, "I believe. Luka, it's your turn now."

"S.H.I.T! That was my chance!" Luka cursed, slamming his fist into the ground. The two of them were still standing behind the table, but it seemed as if neither the woman nor the enforcer could see or touch them. Luka's actions didn't catch anyone's attention.

Luka quickly composed himself, standing up and dusting off his clothes. "Are we in that Purgatory realm?" he asked.

"No, this is the Mirror Dimension," Solomon replied. "It's an extra-dimensional space, separate from Purgatory. It works differently—you can't interfere with the outside world here. But there is a similarity: unless you use specific magic, you can't leave. You should be thanking me for saving you."

"What are you doing here?" Luka asked.

"I just gave a child a new toy to keep her distracted. Then I came here," Solomon said, looking bored. "Finding you was ridiculously easy. I doubt anyone in Vigrid gets into more trouble than you."

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