"No he Isn't I scrapped that plan after WW 1..."
Knowledge said only to fall silent as his face contorted Into one ugly mess after thinking of a possibility so ridiculous that It was borderline delusional.
"...f*ck let me check"
Knowledge cursed out loud as with a wawe of his hand several holographic windows appeared.
From Draculas DNR structure then he was still human In his original timeline down to the first time he had a wet dream.
"You've got to be f*cking kidding me..."
The dumbfounded knowledge muttered to himself as he stared In disbelief at two sets of windows.
Hearing this the three jumped out of their seats and ran behind the frozen In place out of schock on his throne knowledge.
"Hey, don't push you goddamn dried pointy eared vegetable"
War hissed.
"Shut It mrs steroids It's not my fault youre one huge junk of muscle mass!"
Desire barked back.
"Shut the f*ck up you two and get those milkers out of my face!"
Civilization roared as he popped his head out of under two women's huge tits that were being rested on his head.
Only for the three to fall silent as they too froze In place with their faces morphing Into a neither laughing or crying look.
In one of the windows It was clearly stated that Dracula's mother aka her country's militaries R&D departments head mad scientist.
Had used the cloned sperm of an ancient fossilized Spartan found In the A*rican continent.
To artificially Impregnate herself with the Intention of creating the 21st centurys first modern super soldier prototype.
Yet, after giving birth and seeing him grow, Dracula's mothers perception irrevocably shifted thanks to the motherly Instincts she thought she will never have but developed shortly after his birth.
Afterall she had carried him In her belly for 9 whole months, she felt his every turn and kick.
He transcended his origins, evolving from a mere outcome of scientific endeavor into the center of her world her pride, her joy, her heart.
Not being able to procced with what she had Initially Intended.
Draculas mother made the decision to fake her sons death, to replace him with a rapidly grown clone devoid of his vitality, a desperate measure taken to extricate him from the clutches of those who would see him as nothing more than a weapon.
This clone, whose cell division had been accelarated by a thousand times, met its end shortly after, serving its purpose as a decoy.
Meanwhile, Dracula was spirited away from the only life he had known which was that of a lab where he was treated as a guinea pig, his nascent memories erased to a blank slate in a bid to protect him from a destiny that threatened to consume him.
To the higher echelons of the military, the Initial project Wrath Of Sparta was a failure, a closed chapter.
But within the confines of a quiet, secluded life, Dracula's mother endeavored to raise her son away from the shadows of his intended purpose.
She nurtured him, loved him, and instilled in him values and morals, hoping against hope to shield him from his innate gravitation towards the military world.
Despite her efforts, the blood of the greatest warriors ancient humanity had to offer proved too potent to ignore.
Dracula was inexorably drawn towards the life she had so desperately tried to keep him from.
His childhood was marked by an undeniable martial prowess, a sense of honor, and leadership qualities that shone brightly, eclipsing those of his peers.
He was bigger, stronger and faster than any child his age.
Finally despite her best efforts the boy had enrolled In the military at the age of twenty against her will.
As he did his path into the militaries cream of the crop seemed preordained, a journey that saw him ascend from an army grunt to mechanised Infantry and finally the elite ranks of special operations forces.
Thanks to his perfect soldier aptitude always disciplined, always following orders to the letter, a mind of Iron that would brake before bending and having no equal in CQC and firearm mastery.
But everyone has a breaking point and Dracula was no exception with each black ops mission, a piece of him eroded away, leaving scars too deep for any medicine or councelling to heal.
Dracula's mother bore witness to his torment, the nightmares that haunted his sleep, the shellshcoked look in his eyes that spoke volumes of the horrors he had faced.
Despite her numerous attempts to save him from this fate.
He had become indispensable to the military, a tool too valuable to discard until he wasn't.
The day came when he was deemed too unstable, his body and mind too ravaged for further service.
Cast aside and left to his death a shadow of the vibrant warrior he once was, the only reason why his battle brothers and sister came to save him In his last moments of his life was because they took matters Into their own hands.
The other window was the analysis of Dracula's soul and It was an abomination of knowledge's every failed lab experiment.
Aka his warlords that he had create In hopes that they could unify humanity under a single banner which was the most he could do without breaking the existences Itself bottom line.
But as history had shown they all had failed In the end with some having more success than others.
The most successful case was Julius Gaius Cezar and his Roman Empire.
"Youve got to be f*cking kidding me the chance of an ancient spartans corpse somehow finding It's way to a planet I had taken such great pains to choose from out from every other planet In the galaxy"
"And the chance of those artificial souls that I created fusing into one Is less than 1 In a trillion and of those two things resulting Into that thing Is a trillion times slimmer"
"So, how just f*cking how did this happen?!"
Knowledge asked himself out loud with a practically crying voice as he grabbed his hair and yanked out a handful of It leaving empty bloody paches on his skull.
"Well I guess now we know why he turned out that way..."
War said while nodding her head sagely as If she had just singlehandedly solved the universes biggest mystery only for civilization to pipe In.
"Oh s*it, guys I think we f*cked up big time..."
The terrified civilization said.
"Explain"
Desire commanded as she focused her eyes downwards.
"We sealed his memories and replaced them with false ones starting from WW 3 while leaving the slightly modified original ones till then right?"
Civilization posed a question for the group letting them digest It.
"If he's already regaining his original ones then there's a chance that he will also regain his pat lives ones but Isn't that a good thing? I mean all of those warlords were brilliant strategists It's exactly what he needs after all he was a warrior not a strategist before he died and became a grim reaper"
Desire mused not seeing the problem.
"No! There's nothing good about It! There's a very high chance that he will go nuts there are twenty personalities locked In his soul do you know what It means?!"
The sweating cold buckets Knowledge once again yanked out a handful of his hair.
"It means 20 plus his own persona, then he fully regains all of his memmories the worst case scenario is that his mind will tear Itself apart turning him Into another Ragnarok!"
Hearing this all the other three fell silent as they shuddered at the thought of another Ragnarok a being that embodened every living beings darkest traits, feelings, thoughts, desires and emotions.
"And the best case scenario?"
Desire asked cautiously.
"His current personality will remain as the dominant one with the other twenty being supportive ones but even In this case there's no telling what the man will do"
"One day he can be a go lucky happy benevolent ruler that dots on his subjects and the other day he can become a genocidal f*ck that will decide to exterminate an entire race just because he doesn't like their appearance"
Knowledge explained as he helplessly leaned Into his throne.