please help me and my friend got this game

Chapter 1: Shadows Beyond Reality

In a realm that defies even the concept of emptiness, Doctor Manhattan floats alone. The void around him is not dark, not silent it pulses with a sickly, almost sentient anticipation, a place beyond reality itself. This is not a vacuum; it’s something worse, a stretch of nothingness that knows it’s empty, that despises even the faintest intrusion of consciousness. Here, not even light or darkness exist as absolutes only an absence that gnashes and writhes, as if taunting those who dare step into it.

Doctor Manhattan’s form radiates an unnatural, intense blue glow, an aura of power so pure it seems to rot the very void around him. He is a walking god, detached from any law, transcending any multiverse. The world knows him as a being of boundless power, but here he is more: an anomaly within an anomaly, a force that even this realm cannot wholly consume.

In the silence, he raises a hand, fingers like pale starlight. There is no particular movement, only a drifting motion that suggests command rather than curiosity. He scans the realm, his expression unreadable, his blue eyes burning with thoughts only he could fathom thoughts that might shatter the sanity of lesser minds. Here, in the belly of oblivion, he is searching. For what, even he might not fully know.

Then, from nowhere, a ripple shudders through the void, the kind of tremor that feels like a warning, like a predator sensing another in its territory. A twisted mass of shadow and flame coalesces in front of him, an unnatural, terrible presence whose form seems to drink in even the faint remnants of existence.

It’s Lucifer Morningstar.

His face, strikingly beautiful, is twisted with irritation, his eyes glinting with an almost predatory gleam. Power radiates off him in waves, thick and tangible, like the scent of burning flesh.

Lucifer’s voice cuts through the void, sharp and cold. “Who are you?” he demands, each word laced with barely concealed malice. “And how did you breach this place?” There is a deadly quiet in his tone, like a blade pressed to a throat just before the killing stroke.

Doctor Manhattan does not move, does not flinch. Instead, he allows his gaze to fall upon Lucifer, his expression serene but otherworldly, a look that speaks not of defiance, but of indifference. His silence alone seems to deepen the rage in Lucifer’s eyes.

“You don’t belong here,” Lucifer snarls, his anger palpable, raw. He raises a hand, fingers unfurling as tendrils of darkness coil from his skin like hungry vipers. Power gathers in his palm, something primal and vicious, a force he rarely unleashes.

But just as Lucifer’s power crescendos, a voice soft, ethereal, deadly in its calm interrupts him.

“Enough,” it says, carrying an authority that even Lucifer does not challenge.

A blinding light flares into existence, a golden aura that cleaves through the void with raw, terrifying purity. Out of this light steps Elaine Belloc, her presence at once gentle and relentless, an unyielding calm wrapped around a core of unimaginable power. Her eyes, soft yet piercing, lock onto Lucifer’s. Without a word, she has positioned herself between him and Doctor Manhattan, her gaze unwavering.

Lucifer’s expression tightens, his frustration muted but still simmering beneath the surface. “Elaine,” he hisses, the venom in his voice barely masked. “What brings you here to meddle in trivial matters?”

Elaine’s gaze is steady, her tone devoid of reproach, yet carrying an undeniable weight. “I am here to see you, Uncle,” she says simply. She then turns to Doctor Manhattan, her gaze appraising, acknowledging his enigmatic power with a respect rarely given.

“Doctor Manhattan,” she says, her voice soft, inviting. “Would you give us a moment?”

There’s something magnetic, almost disturbing, in her calm. Doctor Manhattan, intrigued, nods and steps back, drifting with a dispassionate ease. He floats just outside their conversation, his attention turning inward, his mind spiraling through dimensions and timelines, exploring each path with the clinical, detached curiosity of a surgeon cutting into flesh.

Elaine and Lucifer’s conversation is low, their words brimming with tension, history, and things long left unsaid. Lucifer’s gaze flickers toward Doctor Manhattan, a wary predator evaluating an unknown threat. He speaks to Elaine in clipped, irritated tones, his words carrying a weight of warning and impatience.

When their exchange ends, Lucifer fixes his gaze on Doctor Manhattan one last time, his expression twisted into a faint, mocking smile. “Are you sure you want to waste time with… this?” he sneers, his words dripping with disdain.

Elaine’s laugh is soft, almost dangerous in its quiet assurance. “Yes, Uncle,” she replies, her tone like silk over steel. “Thank you for your concern.”

With one last dark look, Lucifer’s form fades, a final flicker of malice radiating from him as he vanishes into the void, leaving only a faint scent of burning embers in the empty space.

Elaine turns fully to Doctor Manhattan, her expression softening, though her gaze remains as piercing as ever. “I didn’t want to remake him and erase his memory of what might have happened had I not intervened,” she says, her voice quiet yet carrying a gravity that lingers in the air. “Sometimes, preserving something is a choice, a way of keeping certain paths closed.”

Doctor Manhattan studies her, his expression thoughtful, enigmatic. “The outcome was always known,” he replies, his voice low, like the murmur of a distant thunderstorm. “Nothing has changed… and yet, it all has.”

Elaine’s eyes meet his, a faint sadness there, one that even she cannot hide. “Yes,” she says softly. “Some things are known before they are seen.”

They converse, their words flowing like a dark river, winding through topics that would leave mortal minds broken. They discuss creation, entropy, the purpose behind existence, each question left hanging in the heavy silence between them. Doctor Manhattan’s words are as potent as they are vague, each one hinting at a knowledge far beyond even her understanding.

After a time, Elaine steps back, her expression tinged with a kind of weary understanding. “I will see you again,” she says, her voice a promise, a binding of intent.

Doctor Manhattan’s gaze shifts, his eyes distant, as if he has already seen the moment of their next meeting. “I know,” he murmurs, a hint of something vast and inescapable coloring his tone.

With a last lingering look, Elaine’s form dissolves, fading into a halo of gold that flickers, then vanishes, leaving Doctor Manhattan alone once more in the terrible, insatiable void.

For a long time, he remains still, floating in silence. His thoughts probe the endlessness around him, dissecting each possibility, each layer of reality. And then, softly, almost to himself, he speaks, his voice laced with something dark, something barely restrained.

“Does she know?” he murmurs.

The answer comes in a voice that is older than the void itself, a deep resonance that cuts through the silence with terrible certainty. The Presence appears, his form radiating an energy so pure, so overwhelming, it feels like a wound in the very fabric of reality.

“Interesting,” The Presence intones, his voice thoughtful, measured. “No, she does not. And I would prefer it remain that way.”

Doctor Manhattan turns his gaze upon The Presence, a look of faint curiosity flickering across his face, a glint of something rare almost awe, yet far from fear. Here, before him, is a being whose power extends beyond any measure he has encountered, a force that could extinguish the multiverse with a thought, yet chooses restraint.

The Presence regards him with an inscrutable expression, his eyes reflecting countless stars, countless lives, as though they contain the entirety of creation’s suffering, its beauty, its end. “You are something beyond even what I intended,” he says, his voice reverberating with a quiet, dangerous respect. “You have become boundless a feat beyond the gods, achieved without my consent. And yet… here you stand.”

Doctor Manhattan’s blue gaze sharpens, the hint of a question flickering within him. “Do you know why?” he begins, only to pause, the answer dawning upon him in a wave of cold understanding. “Of course… you do.”

The Presence’s expression does not shift, only deepens. “And do they know?” Doctor Manhattan starts again, his voice quieter, barely a whisper, his gaze shifting to the unseen planes beyond. He halts mid-sentence, a dark satisfaction curling at the edges of his mouth. “Of course… they do not.”

The Presence extends his hand, a gesture of quiet command that radiates an authority Manhattan recognizes, even respects. “Come, my boy,” The Presence says, his voice both an invitation and a command. “For once, I find in you an almost equal… something close to a challenge.”

Doctor Manhattan regards him, his expression unreadable, his gaze reflecting the void, infinite and merciless. “Where would we go?” he begins, but stops, as if the question itself is moot. Together, they turn their gaze outward, toward the seething black beyond, a place filled with all that has been and all that will be.

Doctor Manhattan looks outward, his expression dark and calm. With a faint, almost predatory smile, he glances toward the unseen void, toward the places where mortals may one day hear of this moment. His voice is low, a whisper that stretches across reality.

“Let’s see what we find out there.”

I actually got it on the 26th and was very happy to have a Saturday Morning Watchmen tattoo

I can’t be the only one picking up on the Rorschach voice/text/tone for the new NerdWallet ad. Or am I being a nerd?

I have read the comic many times (probably three times im exagerating) and I saw the adaptation film for the second time, first time was at the movies when I was like five or six dont remember, my question is, do you think that Snyder changed many things and if you do, what things? I personally think that the ending on the film doesnt make any sense, but thats just me.

As in works that came about after the Watchmen series was published that have clear-ish ties to the ideas that Moore implemented into the genre. Such as Moral ambiguity in heroes and real world elements that directly influence the story.

Sorry I just have to make this silly pun 🥴 I guess a roach flying towards your face at full speed has the same energy as the quote

All I can find aside from the scene is one photo of actress Carmen Lavigne https://en.kinorium.com/name/1269361/gallery/promo/

Please delete if not allowed.

Thought I’d ask on here before going elsewhere. Anyone got any interest in this? Heard good joke in this issue.

i wanna read watchmen and i found the graphic novel and its deluxe editions on amazon, is there any difference between them? https://www.amazon.co.uk/Watchmen-2019-Alan-Moore/dp/1779501129/ref=pd_sbs_d_sccl_2_3/257-4226350-2817508?pd_rd_w=2zThm&content-id=amzn1.sym.0e4dd034-f556-4cfb-a108-9f1510ac2efb&pf_rd_p=0e4dd034-f556-4cfb-a108-9f1510ac2efb&pf_rd_r=6BYAN2C91Y90PD5PF7ES&pd_rd_wg=kmk9i&pd_rd_r=ab7eb656-b947-445d-b421-a11a8c378329&pd_rd_i=1779501129&psc=1