《Godpunk: A Tale of Swords, Sorcery, and the No-Good Journalist Who Saw It All》 1.1 She bled stars. Stellavia bled all over the altar, her mouth hung open, blood oozing from her back and onto the temple floor. The trail of blood led to a small groove in the stage merely a few inches away, where a puddle of it sat. I dipped my pinky in the puddle, then looked at it. In the dim light, my finger lit up. I brought the blood to my nose and sniffed it. It smelled like a cold summer night. Put the smallest bit on the tip of my tongue. It tasted like sugar water. Crouched there in the temple just before the Sun was about to rise, I caught a glimpse of my badge. It made me proud of who I was, or rather who I pretended to be. I used to be a man stuck in the past. Now, at least, I pretended I had a life here in the present. This lady was one of a kind in this part of the world. How the hell was I supposed to figure out her time of death? It couldn¡¯t have been too long; the blood hadn¡¯t coagulated. Yesterday¡¯s worship had taken place in the evening, which meant there was only a seven or eight hour window. Long ago she had told me her body was only an accurate representation of the stars when she was living. When she died, she became something more static, like a map. I walked up to the body. Studied her corpse, looking for our planet. It didn¡¯t take long to find: it was the area with the least number of stars. In fact, it only had one star. The planet was a hair¡¯s width above the belly button. Our Sun was about two inches from it. And when I squinted, I saw our two moons. They were less than half an inch from each other. Given their location, and given their daily rotation around the planet, I figured she must¡¯ve died about two hours ago. I glanced at the temple¡¯s stained glass window. It featured Val Rador, the creature of light and life, his sword arcing down to kill the Angel of Death. Bullshit. I slipped a cigarette in-between my lips. ¡°Fiat lux,¡± I mumbled, snapping my fingers so that a small flame shot out of them, lighting the cigarette. I was about to turn for the door, figuring it¡¯d be best to book it before the real cops arrived. A pillar of light shot up from the ground right next to the corpse. ¡°Leaving so soon, George?¡± a booming voice asked from inside the light. The Angel of Death walked out of the pillar, which closed up behind her. I¡¯d never admitted it out loud, but she was beautiful: long red hair, piercing green eyes, and two black wings that stretched across half the width of the church. ¡°Took you long enough,¡± I said. ¡°Death is a busy business, some days,¡± she replied. ¡°I bet it is,¡± I said. She bent over to the starry corpse. She put her hand in its mouth and pulled a translucent sheet from it. ¡°I¡¯ve got to take this soul to where it belongs,¡± she said. ¡°Say hi to Val for me.¡± ¡°Fuck you,¡± I said, walking down the aisle and towards the door. ¡°Val already did,¡± she said, laughing. That goddamn laugh of hers had haunted me for a long time now. It was good to hear it again. I pushed open the thick wood doors and walked out of the temple, only to be greeted by two angry police officers and the rising sun. I recognized the older cop, Vicky. ¡°Put your hands on your head,¡± Vicky said with a bit of a drawl, her gun pointed straight at my heart. ¡°I didn¡¯t kill Stellavia.¡± Vicky¡¯s eyes widened just a little. ¡°Didn¡¯t realize she was dead. Only heard that there was some commotion in the temple.¡± Of course, I knew she didn¡¯t know. She¡¯s the one who tipped me off that there might be a story here. But I had to put on a show for the rookie. ¡°Well, she¡¯s dead,¡± I said. ¡°But I didn¡¯t kill her.¡± ¡°Never said you did,¡± Vicky told me. ¡°We still got you on tampering with a crime scene and impersonating an officer of the law.¡± She pointed her gun at the badge hanging from my neck. ¡°I know when she died,¡± I said. ¡°We will too, soon.¡± She took out a pair of handcuffs while her younger partner kept the gun trained. ¡°Soon as we can take a closer look at the crime scene. Hold your hands out.¡± I did. She cuffed me and said, ¡°Check the crime scene, rookie. I¡¯ll take care of the perp.¡± The kid looked nervous. He nodded his head and ran into the police station, while Vicky grabbed my arm and tugged me along. ¡°Thanks for the tipoff,¡± I said. ¡°You were supposed to be gone by the time we got here.¡± ¡°Ran into a little trouble,¡± I said. ¡°You were two blocks away and we were across town when I called. What kind of trouble could you have gotten into?¡± ¡°Angel of Death.¡± Vicky stopped for a moment, turning to look at me. ¡°You didn¡¯t shoot at her, did you?¡± she asked. ¡°No.¡± ¡°You could have at least taken off the badge,¡± she said. ¡°Forgot I had it on.¡± ¡°Why¡¯d you put it on in the first place?¡± ¡°Nobody asks questions when a cop slips into an empty temple.¡± ¡°Nobody except other cops,¡± she said. She opened the cop car door. I ducked my head and she threw me in. ¡°If I¡¯d realized the commotion was a murder, I never would have called you. I¡¯m going to close this door and check out the crime scene. If you¡¯re gone when I come back, so help me I¡¯ll shoot your dick off.¡± I believed her, too. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª People never go to the police station to have a good time. I was no exception, but I¡¯d been there often enough to avoid feeling too nervous. ¡°You disturb matters beyond your domain,¡± the Wise Tree said. I sat in a hard plastic chair, Vicky standing to my right. The both of us faced the Wise Tree, whose face was plastered across the police station wall. They¡¯d built the station around the Tree, presumably because of how handy he was for scaring the shit out of perps. ¡°Death¡¯s my domain. Death, sex, and embarrassment,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s the domain of every journalist from here to the Celestial Wall.¡± He grunted at that. He¡¯d been hostile since the first day he met me, because I was a journalist. The fact that I¡¯d written Godkiller didn¡¯t help things. ¡°Did you kill Stellavia?¡± the Wise Tree asked. ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°Even though Death is your domain?¡± he asked, with more than a hint of irony. ¡°I didn¡¯t kill her,¡± I said. ¡°Who did?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°You¡¯re the best suspect we have,¡± the Wise Tree said. ¡°We found her blood on your hands.¡± ¡°One hand,¡± I said. ¡°A finger.¡± ¡°You were at the scene of the crime.¡± ¡°Two hours after she¡¯d died.¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t the killer always return to the scene of the crime?¡± the Wise Tree asked. ¡°Not two hours after it happened. Don¡¯t insult my intelligence.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll insult you however I care to,¡± he bellowed, his voice shaking my ear drums. I took in a deep breath of air, but the whole place smelled like a rotten forest. I wanted to gag. ¡°You¡¯re a gnat who had the audacity to kill a god. That makes you less than a gnat, in my eyes.¡± ¡°And yet a gnat doesn¡¯t get the pleasure of your company,¡± I said. ¡°You must care a little.¡± Vicky cracked a smile while the Wise Tree roared with anger. ¡°Insolent, incompetent fool. You¡¯d bring about the apocalypse with¨C¡± ¡°You know I didn¡¯t kill her,¡± I said. ¡°What makes you so sure?¡± he asked. ¡°Because you know me,¡± I said. ¡°You know I¡¯m no swordsman. Would¡¯ve shot her.¡± ¡°You could have a hidden talent,¡± the Wise Tree said. ¡°Why would we fall for such a simple trick?¡± ¡°The swordsman who killed Stellavia was right-handed. I¡¯m a southpaw.¡± ¡°Approach, Vicky,¡± the Wise Tree said. Vicky did. The Wise Tree mumbled in her ear. She mumbled in his, then he proceeded to mumble into hers again. When they were finished Vicky walked over and unhandcuffed me. My wrists felt relief when the cold metal fell away. She walked a few steps and turned around, taking a pen out from behind her ear and throwing it at me. I caught it with my left hand. ¡°It¡¯s not watertight,¡± the Wise Tree said. ¡°I could hold you overnight, at least.¡± A tense silence filled the air. ¡°Are you going to?¡± ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°Frankly, I want you out of my hair, and I don¡¯t think you have the balls for murder.¡± That suited me fine. I didn¡¯t want him in my hair, either. ¡°But this could make things very difficult for you, if I wanted them to,¡± he said. ¡°Instead, I¡¯m offering you a choice: get out of this town in the next 24 hours, and never come back. Otherwise, you will feel the full force of the law. We¡¯ll look through your life and air out your dirty laundry. I imagine you¡¯ve picked up a lot of baggage in your 60 years.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t say you¡¯re right,¡± I said, muttering ¡°Fiat Lux¡± as I lit a cigarette. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t say you¡¯re wrong, either.¡± I blew the smoke to the side. ¡°Will you take the deal?¡± the Wise Tree asked. ¡°Sure,¡± I said. ¡°I could do for some travel.¡± ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª Arrived at the pub about fifteen minutes later. The first thing I saw when I opened the door was my reflection. Hated that. Baggy eyelids, unshaven face, and a crimson tie that weaved its way across my neck and down to my belt, looking like some open wound. I hated all of it. The only thing I really liked about this bar was the smell: a cocktail of booze, sweat, and metal. It reminded me of the adventures I¡¯d had with Val Rador. I was ashamed of them now, but I¡¯d be damned if they didn¡¯t comprise the best goddamn time of my life. ¡°Closed,¡± Evan said, his back turned as he wiped the bar down. He used his human arm for that, while his metallic right arm hung at his side. The arm looked cumbersome: a patchwork of wires and pistons. It was the sort of magic that went far beyond me. ¡°You said I could never drink here, anyway,¡± I said. The rage built in Evan¡¯s face as soon as he saw me. He was like that: never knowing what to say first, when he wanted to say absolutely everything. I figured he¡¯d start with a curse word. ¡°Fuck you,¡± he said. And there it was. ¡°What the hell are you doing here?¡± ¡°Following a story,¡± I said. ¡°Just like a journalist. There¡¯s a reason journalists don¡¯t get access, you know,¡± Evan said. ¡°Nobody likes a fucking journalist. They¡¯re maggots, worming their way where they don¡¯t belong, messing things up, asking the sorts of questions they shouldn¡¯t ask.¡± Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°How¡¯d you get the arm?¡± I asked. It was far from the first time I¡¯d asked that question. ¡°You¡¯re a monster,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re not wrong,¡± I said. He let out a long, deep sigh, rubbing his eyes. ¡°What¡¯s the story?¡± he asked. ¡°Stellavia died,¡± I said. ¡°How?¡± ¡°Sword through the back.¡± ¡°You see my mother?¡± he asked. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°She mention me?¡± ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°Figures,¡± he said, shaking his head. He let out a bitter laugh and threw his arms in the air. ¡°I don¡¯t know why I¡¯m surprised.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry, if it matters.¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t. Death isn¡¯t supposed to make life. She and Val shouldn¡¯t have made me,¡± he said. His defenses went back up, and he almost looked cavalier as he asked, ¡°You think I killed Stellavia?¡± It was a challenge, as opposed to a point of curiosity. ¡°I don¡¯t know. Temple¡¯s only a five minute walk from here.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve got the means, if not the motive.¡± Of course, Evan had motive. He hated everything Val had ever brought to this city at the end of his adventures. And Stellavia had come back with us after our adventure. Still, I didn¡¯t want to push the point. ¡°Means but not motive,¡± I said. ¡°Wondered if you saw anyone here that looked suspicious.¡± ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°Nobody drunk and belligerent? Nobody with a sword?¡± ¡°Nobody,¡± he said. That was a lie, too. Nobody walked into this bar without some means of defending themselves. ¡°I wanted to talk to your father,¡± I said. ¡°He doesn¡¯t want to talk to you,¡± Evan said. ¡°I need to talk to him.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t need to write that story,¡± he told me. ¡°You don¡¯t need any of this. You want to know who killed Stellavia. You want to dig up your past yet again. But nobody¡¯s interested, George. You had your adventure forty years ago, and that¡¯s all you were ever good for. You and dad changed the world once. But that¡¯s it. You don¡¯t get to change it again.¡± ¡°All I want is an address,¡± I said. ¡°Too bad,¡± he said. ¡°The cops are going to come to this bar. They¡¯re going to see if the murderer came here.¡± ¡°So?¡± he asked. ¡°So the article that I¡¯m going to write about the investigation can go one of two ways. Either I write, ¡®Police asked Evan Rador a series of questions regarding Stellavia¡¯s murder,¡¯ or I write, ¡®Police canvassed the local area to see if anyone saw suspicious activity near the temple at around 3 a.m.¡¯¡± ¡°You know her time of death,¡± Evan said. ¡°And you know where Val lives these days,¡± I said. ¡°Help me out here.¡± ¡°My name doesn¡¯t end up in your book?¡± Evan asked. ¡°Your name is erased from my memory,¡± I said. He nodded his head. ¡°Alright.¡± He searched his pants pockets, then found a pen in his shirt. Turned around to grab a pad of paper. He wrote Val¡¯s address down and ripped off a sheet, handing it to me. ¡°Pleasure doing business,¡± I said. ¡°Fuck you.¡± ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª Val Rador had a nice place. That shouldn¡¯t have surprised me. It made sense. But still, I¡¯d never known him as a man of luxury. It was strange to think of how much he might have changed. I walked down the cobblestone path, striding between two patches of fake grass. When I reached the door, I saw that they had a dragon knocker. ¡°Who are you?¡± the dragon spat out. It wasn¡¯t a full dragon, not really. It was a small, stone head. The knocker, a heavy brass ring, looped around the back of his neck. If I wanted to use it, I had to get his permission. I flashed my badge, answering his question. ¡°What do you want?¡± he asked. He wasn¡¯t getting any nicer. ¡°What people like me always want,¡± I told him. ¡°Answers.¡± ¡°First I wanna know the questions,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re not a cop,¡± I said. ¡°So cut it out, alright?¡± ¡°No, I¡¯m not the one who cuts stuff out. I¡¯m not that sort of creature, you see?¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m this place¡¯s first and last line of defense. As a dragon, a creature of light and fi¨C¡± I banged on the door, yelling, ¡°Will someone shut this goddamn dragon up?¡± A figure opened the door. It wasn¡¯t Val Rador, it was a Hyalu. I couldn¡¯t decide if her skin was the ocean or the sky. It was a soft blue, softer in some areas than others. There were small patches of white swirling around, moving across her body like clouds or sea foam. ¡°You¡¯re not a fan of dragons, I take it,¡± she said. ¡°They¡¯re not my favorite,¡± I admitted. Of course, they weren¡¯t most people¡¯s favorite, and I couldn¡¯t help but wonder why Val would have a symbol of the Death Cult hanging on his door. I cast the thought to the back of my mind, fishing for her name, ¡°Mrs.¨C¡± ¡°Lusu,¡± she said. ¡°Lusu Rador. You want to come in?¡± she asked. ¡°I¡¯d appreciate it,¡± I said. We stood there for several moments, neither of us moving, like we¡¯d both been followers for so long that we¡¯d forgotten how to lead. I made my way into the house. She closed the door and followed. The house was even more beautiful on the inside: spacious, with tapestries hung everywhere. They displayed Val Rador¡¯s false accomplishments. ¡°Nice house,¡± I said. ¡°Thanks,¡± she said. It didn¡¯t sound genuine. ¡°Might I ask why you¡¯re here?¡± ¡°I have questions,¡± I said, flashing my badge. ¡°Do you know where your husband was last night?¡± ¡°Last night?¡± she said. ¡°Last night¡¯s barely ended. I just woke up.¡± ¡°Then do you know where he¡¯s been for the past five hours?¡± I asked. My heart beat four times before she responded. ¡°I don¡¯t really keep track of his whereabouts,¡± she said. ¡°He wouldn¡¯t like that. Besides, I trust him.¡± That sounded like a lie, and I was glad. Trusting Val Rador would be one of the biggest mistakes of her life. I would know. It was one of mine. ¡°So you don¡¯t know where he¡¯s been?¡± I asked. ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°Is there any chance we could move into the living room? I¡¯d like to sit down.¡± ¡°Certainly,¡± I said. ¡°Lead the way.¡± She hesitated for a moment, then walked. I gladly followed. ¡°This is a nice house,¡± I said. ¡°What does your husband do?¡± ¡°He¡¯s retired, mostly,¡± she said, the two of us standing in the living room. ¡°Kills the occasional dragon.¡± ¡°Can I have a seat?¡± I asked, pointing at the red armchair. A small bookcase stood next to the chair. I noticed that my book, Godkiller, was shelved there. ¡°Certainly,¡± she said. ¡°Would you care for a drink?¡± ¡°Had enough before I got here,¡± I told her. ¡°How about a smoke?¡± ¡°Got plenty,¡± I said, taking a pack of cigarettes out of my pocket for just a second to show her. I slipped them back in. ¡°I¡¯m not sure whether you¡¯re good at living or dying.¡± ¡°Mother always said you couldn¡¯t be good at one if you didn¡¯t at least try to be good at the other. Now, do you have any speculations about where your husband might have been last night?¡± ¡°No,¡± she said, sitting down on her white sofa. The white patches of skin peaked out from her white dress, and it looked like the couch was hugging her, enveloping her. ¡°Do you?¡± ¡°I think he might¡¯ve broken the law,¡± I said. ¡°Would that change your opinion of him?¡± ¡°Show me a man too in love with the law and I¡¯ll show you a man who doesn¡¯t trust himself,¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯s a bold thing to tell a detective.¡± ¡°You never said you were a detective,¡± she said. ¡°You couldn¡¯t tell?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not the detective.¡± ¡°Sharp tongue,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯ll forgive me,¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t like being interrogated about my husband¡¯s whereabouts.¡± ¡°I can tell.¡± ¡°What do you think it is that he did, exactly?¡± she asked. ¡°You know Stellavia?¡± ¡°Of course,¡± she said. ¡°She¡¯s dead.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t die of natural causes, I take it?¡± ¡°Sword in the backside.¡± ¡°That¡¯s sad,¡± she said. ¡°Do you think your husband¡¯s capable of such a thing?¡± ¡°We all are, aren¡¯t we?¡± she asked. I wanted to say no, but I knew better. ¡°I guess so,¡± I said. Her eyes stopped focusing on me. Instead, they focused on something behind me. I turned around and saw a window. Nobody there. ¡°You¡¯d really better go,¡± she said. Her eyes looked tense, and the white pigment in her skin seemed to move just a bit quicker. ¡°What did you just see?¡± I asked. ¡°I said you better go. Now.¡± ¡°I¨C¡± ¡°I know you¡¯re not a cop,¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t know who the hell you are, but cops don¡¯t ask questions about my husband. So get the hell out of here.¡± ¡°What are you hiding?¡± I asked. ¡°Get out of my house!¡± she yelled. ¡°What are you¨C¡± The door opened. Val Rador stood there, sword in hand, face awash with anger. Then, perhaps recognizing me, his grimace turned into a grin. He let out a slow, menacing sort of laughter. ¡°George. What a surprise.¡± His sword was drenched with blood. --- --- --- Author''s Note: That''s the end of chapter one! Hope everyone enjoyed it. My plan is to post this serial once a week, though I''m not sure I''ll stick to Tuesdays. Either way, if you don''t feel like waiting, the whole thing has already been posted on my site. Click here for Chapter Two. Also, if you''re enjoying this story, please think about signing up for my newsletter! It releases once a month and will feature news about upcoming projects. I''ve got a new RRL story that should be posting soon, and this is a great way to make sure you don''t miss it! 1.2 ¡°It really is good to see you,¡± Val told me, his sword drenched in blood, his face lit up by a smirk. Lusu sat there, looking more than a little confused. I sat there too, mad as hell. Madder than I¡¯d expected to be. ¡°You piece of shit,¡± I said, standing up and walking towards him. ¡°You ruined this world, you know that? You killed a god. A god.¡± I grabbed him by his shoulders and shook him. ¡°How could we fuck up so bad?¡± He laughed. ¡°Always the tortured poet, eh?¡± Standing there, his muscles in my arms, I realized how little the vagaries of time had done to him. His hair was a bit snowy, his face a bit craggy. But he was still strong ¡ª as strong as he¡¯d been forty years ago. And there I was, feeling weak, like my body would give out on me the first chance it got. ¡°You said you¡¯d never talk to me again.¡± ¡°After the things you wrote in your book, are you surprised?¡± he asked. ¡°What¡¯s so different now?¡± I asked. ¡°It¡¯s been decades,¡± he said. ¡°A lot of things changed.¡± I let go of his arms. For some reason, those words really made me think. ¡°A lot of things didn¡¯t,¡± I said. ¡°I can see that,¡± he purred. ¡°Get my friend a drink, would you?¡± he asked Lusu. ¡°Already offered and declined,¡± she said. ¡°I didn¡¯t ask whether or not you already offered,¡± he said, not deigning to look at her. His eyes were focused on me. ¡°You still a brandy drinker?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, ¡°among other things.¡± Lusu got up to make me a drink. I didn¡¯t notice any emotion on her face as she walked into the kitchen. ¡°What brings you here, now?¡± he asked. ¡°Stellavia is dead,¡± I said. ¡°Damn,¡± Val said. ¡°She¡¯ll be missed.¡± ¡°Not by everyone,¡± I said. ¡°She was murdered.¡± ¡°You know who did it?¡± ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°Do you?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure I catch your meaning.¡± ¡°Did you kill Stellavia?¡± ¡°Looking for another bestseller?¡± he asked, voice drenched with condescension. ¡°Has your literary career been anything other than trashing my name?¡± ¡°Last time I gave you a pseudonym,¡± I said. ¡°Last time people didn¡¯t know that Blake Reiner the hero was in fact Val Rador. But I swear to God, Val. If you killed her, I¡¯ll tell them everything. I¡¯ll tell everyone who fucked this world over.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t kill her.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t believe you.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t kill her,¡± he said, his pitch the same as before. ¡°Then why the fuck is there blood on your sword?¡± ¡°Slayed a dragon,¡± he said. ¡°Government job. You can ask around, if you want. I didn¡¯t kill her.¡± I paused. Sounded like he was telling the truth, but I didn¡¯t want to believe him. Still, the blood on the sword wasn¡¯t Stellavia¡¯s. It didn¡¯t have that glimmer. ¡°I can¡¯t ask around,¡± I said. ¡°Nobody that high up would talk to me.¡± ¡°Sounds like your problem,¡± he said. ¡°That¡¯s what happens when you write all these books.¡± Lusu came back from the kitchen. She handed me a drink. It tasted damn good. ¡°You sure she was murdered?¡± he asked. ¡°The massive hole in her flesh didn¡¯t leave much doubt.¡± Soon as I said that, things got quiet for a while. They got quiet for a good long while, and I wondered if any of this was worth it: digging up the past that I¡¯d fought so hard to bury. Digging up a past that I never should have lived through in the first place. ¡°I want to tell you something,¡± he said. ¡°Yeah?¡± ¡°And you can¡¯t tell anyone,¡± he said. ¡°Okay.¡± ¡°Keep in mind, if you act like a journalist and publish this secret, I will be guilty of murder.¡± ¡°Again,¡± I said. A spark of anger flashed across his face. Then, just as quickly, he regained his composure ¡ª a degree of sadness. I couldn¡¯t tell whether it was actual or feigned. ¡°It¡¯s about my son,¡± he said. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with him?¡± ¡°He¡¯s¨C¡± he began. But he lost track of the thought. ¡°I wasn¡¯t a good father.¡± Can¡¯t say I was surprised to hear that. ¡°Val,¡± Lusu said. ¡°Don¡¯t¨C¡± ¡°It¡¯s true,¡± he said, loudly. ¡°I wasn¡¯t a good father.¡± The Angel of Death didn¡¯t make a very good mother, either, but I wasn¡¯t about to say that. I¡¯d pushed my luck enough here already. ¡°Evan¡¯s always been troubled,¡± Val said. ¡°You know how he got his metal arm?¡± ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°He wanted to meet his mother,¡± Val said. He put his finger on the bottom of his palm. Then he dragged it down across his vein. ¡°Cut his arm open?¡± I asked. He nodded his head. ¡°Nearly hacked it off himself.¡± ¡°Did she see him?¡± ¡°He thought he could get close to death,¡± Val said. ¡°Didn¡¯t actually want to kill himself. He didn¡¯t die, so she didn¡¯t come.¡± ¡°You¡¯re saying he killed Stellavia to see his mother.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Val said. ¡°Maybe. It¡¯s certainly worth a thought, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡± ¡°I saw the Angel of Death take the soul away,¡± I said. ¡°He wasn¡¯t there.¡± ¡°She probably waited until he had to leave,¡± Val said. ¡°She didn¡¯t want to see him.¡± ¡°How do you know?¡± ¡°We talk, sometimes.¡± I glanced over at Lusu. No emotion. I came straight out and asked, ¡°You¡¯re not jealous?¡± ¡°Of what?¡± she said. ¡°Your husband¡¯s talking to his ex, a supernatural creature that he had a kid with. And you¡¯re okay with that?¡± ¡°Sure I am,¡± she said. ¡°Get out of my house,¡± Val said. ¡°Don¡¯t let the gnat bother you, Val. He¡¯s nobody. Blew away most of his cash on booze and drugs. Now he¡¯s nothing,¡± she said. ¡°I thought you would¡¯ve changed in forty years,¡± he said. ¡°Only got older,¡± I said. Only got sadder, I thought. ¡°I¡¯m used to you accusing me of murder,¡± he said. ¡°At this point, it¡¯s expected. But accusing me of cheating? Get out of my house.¡± ¡°Had to ask,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s a valid question.¡± ¡°Get the fuck out of my house.¡± I did. Val followed me like a guard dog, looking me up and down. I walked into the vestibule and looked up at one of the tapestries hanging there. It featured a tall muscular man, sword arcing towards the Angel of Death. An inscription under it read, ¡°Blake Reiner fought the Angel of Death for three days and nights. They reached a draw, and she agreed to let him live.¡± ¡°Imagine if they knew the truth,¡± I said. He opened the door and grabbed my arm, throwing me out. The door slammed just as my head slammed against the concrete. Getting up, I felt woozy. But that wasn¡¯t anything new. ¡°Pictures don¡¯t look anything like you,¡± I said. I puked on his fake grass. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª Had a couple hours to kill until the bar re-opened, so I drove to Beckett¡¯s place. She was rich, though you wouldn¡¯t know it. Lived in a decently-sized house that needed a few repairs. White paint was chipped, roof had a few tiles missing. ¡°Fiat Lux,¡± I said, snapping my fingers and lighting a cigarette. She hated to see people who didn¡¯t have a vice within reach. I knocked three times, then waited. She opened the door. Looked as good as always, vibrant for a woman in her 80s. Her signature black pinstripe suit was splattered with neon green paint. A blunt dangled from her wrinkled fingers. She smiled and said, ¡°Gimme a hug, you stupid bitch.¡± I bent down to give her a hug. ¡°How are you today?¡± she asked, rolling her wheelchair out of the doorway and into the living room. I closed the door and followed. ¡°Interesting,¡± I said. ¡°Shit,¡± she said. ¡°Last time you called a day ¡®Interesting¡¯ you were naked, drugged, and hanging by your ankle. Raving about that awful suicide business.¡± ¡°I went through a rough patch,¡± I said. ¡°Life¡¯s a rough patch, kid. And if I didn¡¯t teach you that, I didn¡¯t teach you anything.¡± I sat down on her sofa. ¡°What¡¯ll you have?¡± she asked. ¡°I¡¯ve got coffee, mushrooms, LSD¨C¡± ¡°Mind if I take a toke?¡± She took a drag off her blunt, breathing in deep. The tail-end of it lit up. She craned her neck towards the ceiling and let the smoke out, a thin column of smoke shooting for the sky. ¡°I¡¯ll trade you,¡± she said. I handed her my cigarette, she handed me her blunt. We took our sweet time with the sins, then traded back. ¡°I painted a wild thing last night, George. Fuckin¡¯ wild. You want to see it?¡± ¡°Sure.¡± I had plenty of time. A couple hours before the bar re-opened, and about twenty hours before I¡¯d get chased out of town. She wheeled her way into her workroom, then wheeled her way back to me. She held onto her painting. When she was closer, she held it out for me. ¡°What do you think?¡± she asked. ¡°Looks like my morning,¡± I said. The painting showed Stellavia bleeding on the altar. ¡°What the hell do you mean?¡± she asked, nearly scowling at me. ¡°You never did handle your weed well, you stupid piece of¨C¡± ¡°She¡¯s dead,¡± I said. A silence hung over the room. I didn¡¯t know what to say. ¡°She¨C¡± Beckett began, but she didn¡¯t finish the sentence. The silence hung for a little while longer. This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Murdered,¡± I said, ¡°just like in your painting.¡± ¡°Well,¡± she said. ¡°That sure as shit can¡¯t be a coincidence.¡± ¡°What made you decide to paint that?¡± ¡°Came to me in a dream,¡± she said. ¡°Did you see who killed her, in the dream?¡± ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°Just saw Stellavia bleeding all over the altar.¡± ¡°Weird dream.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what made me want to paint it,¡± she said. ¡°Fuck.¡± She broke into laughter. ¡°It¡¯s the end of the world. The fucking end. Isn¡¯t that beautiful?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t really buy that apoca¨C¡± ¡°When Stellavia dies, so does our universe,¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯s what The Hero told me.¡± ¡°Bullshit,¡± I said. ¡°The world¡¯s not ending. The world¡¯s not¨C It¡¯s not ending.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be so worried,¡± she said. ¡°You always have to get so anxious about things. But isn¡¯t there something beautiful about all this? The end of it all. The culmination of everything. This is what life¡¯s been building up to over eons and eons.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t give a shit what life¡¯s been building up towards,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m not ready to die.¡± ¡°You better get ready,¡± she said. ¡°This is the end. God, I can¡¯t wait to tell Vicky.¡± ¡°She already knows,¡± I said. ¡°Your daughter arrested me this morning.¡± ¡°What¡¯d you do, act like your charming self?¡± I put my head in-between my knees and muttered, ¡°I¡¯m not ready to die.¡± ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª Took a drive through the streets, killing time before the bar opened. Damn. I¡¯d gone to Beckett to get some help with this murder: to try and figure out who did it. But all I got was another suspect. ¡°End of the world,¡± I muttered to no one in particular. ¡°I finally accept my life, and the whole fucking world decides to end.¡± Guess I shouldn¡¯t have been surprised. I¡¯d seen a man kill a god. But even a god was small, compared to the whole damn universe. I tried to focus less on the apocalypse and more on the murder. At that point I had four suspects. There was Evan, the literal child of Death who wanted to see his mother for once in his life, who might have planned an apocalypse to facilitate just that. There was Val Rador, ultimate hero and bloodthirsty champion, a paid killer who¡¯d already killed creatures like these. There was Lusu, who might¡¯ve killed Stellavia out of jealousy for the way Val looked at other supernatural creatures. And there was Beckett, my mentor, who was excited for the apocalypse and somehow predicted its catalyst ahead of time. In the middle of it all was me, some old piece of shit who¡¯d grown too fond of dangerous questions. I checked my watch. It was time for the bar to open. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª Evan glared at me as I walked in. He was ready, this time. There was no surprising him. ¡°Fuck you,¡± he said. ¡°Didn¡¯t even let me say anything,¡± I replied. ¡°Don¡¯t need to,¡± he said. ¡°Don¡¯t care. You¡¯re writing an article, and probably another damned book. The more you talk to me, the more likely it is I¡¯m going to be involved in it.¡± ¡°Just looking for the truth about who killed Stellavia,¡± I said. ¡°So long as it wasn¡¯t you, you should be fine.¡± ¡°Truth,¡± he spat. ¡°Were you looking for the truth when you wrote Godkiller?¡± ¡°I was.¡± ¡°Why all the lies, then?¡± he asked. ¡°No lies,¡± I said, lying. ¡°Left out some truths to hide your father¡¯s identity, but there weren¡¯t any lies.¡± ¡°You¡¯re worse than your mentor,¡± he said. ¡°Beckett¡¯s written some great books.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t believe in all her alien shit, do you?¡± ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean the theory isn¡¯t interesting.¡± He sighed, rubbing his eyes. ¡°What do you want? What¡¯s the quickest way I can get you out of here?¡± ¡°What are your thoughts on the apocalypse?¡± ¡°Not a fan,¡± he said. ¡°Even if it¡¯d bring you closer to your mother? With an apocalypse out there, there¡¯s no way you¡¯d miss her. She¡¯d finally take you. Heck, if you started it¨C¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t start an apocalypse to see my mother,¡± he said. ¡°If she cares so little to see me, I¡¯m not going to fight so hard to find her.¡± ¡°Would you kill the world out of spite?¡± ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°How ¡®bout you ask me a question that doesn¡¯t confirm my suspicions that you¡¯re just a stupid asshole?¡± That sounded like a tall order, so I asked the question I¡¯d been asking myself: ¡°Who do you think killed Stellavia?¡± ¡°Honestly?¡± Evan said. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t ask if I wanted a lie,¡± I said. ¡°I think you did it.¡± ¡°Me?¡± I asked. ¡°What makes you think¨C¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be an ass,¡± Evan said. ¡°You¡¯re the one who found the body, and you¡¯re the one who¡¯s at the worst place in his life.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not so sure.¡± ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± ¡°I know how you got the arm,¡± I said. Evan stood there, not saying anything. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. ¡°Who talked?¡± he asked. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter¨C¡± ¡°It does matter,¡± he said. ¡°Who told you?¡± ¡°I could have figured it out.¡± ¡°Thing is, you didn¡¯t figure it out. Someone told you.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t¨C¡± ¡°Not many people know,¡± he said. Then, insight hit him like a train. ¡°You talked to Val.¡± I didn¡¯t respond, so he said it again, ¡°You talked to Val.¡± There was hurt in his eyes ¡ª something that made me feel bad for him. I told him the truth. ¡°I talked to Val.¡± ¡°He told you everything?¡± ¡°Not everything,¡± I said. ¡°Told me about your arm, but he didn¡¯t tell me everything.¡± Evan was holding back tears, but I tried not to notice. His metal arm hung there, limp. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen you use your right arm,¡± I asked. ¡°What are the wires and pistons for? Isn¡¯t it supposed to work?¡± ¡°It¡¯s supposed to,¡± he said. ¡°It does, but it hurts.¡± ¡°Can I see?¡± I asked. ¡°Fuck you,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m trying to figure something out,¡± I said. ¡°Can you show me how your arm works?¡± He looked like a caged animal, vicious but broken. Talking about the arm must¡¯ve thrown him off. A small whirring sound could be heard in the darkness. I watched, as Evan¡¯s arm began to move. He raised his shoulder up in the air, the shoulder seeming to struggle with the weight. Evan groaned but persisted. His arm reached about my height, his middle finger less than an inch from my throat. He closed his hand finger by finger, curling it into a fist. It shined in the light of the bar. The whole process took a minute, maybe two. ¡°It hurts?¡± I asked. ¡°It reminds me,¡± he said, ¡°of what I¡¯ve lost.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said. ¡°I know it doesn¡¯t matter, but I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°It does matter. Just doesn¡¯t matter enough.¡± He paused, as if he wanted to give me time to think about that. Then he asked, ¡°You think I killed her?¡± ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t think you killed her. But I know who did.¡± ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª The Sun was setting as I walked up the sidewalk, passing the fake green grass, gun drawn. The second the dragon knocker saw me, I pointed my gun at it. It sat there, frozen. I¡¯d never seen stone look so afraid. I walked up to the door and slipped my gun into its maw. The place still smelled like puke. ¡°Make a sound, and I¡¯ll shoot,¡± I said. My shadow covering it, I noticed my pinky glimmer in the darkness. An orange fluorescent light turned on, flickering. ¡°D-¡± *BANG* It made a sound, so I fired. Ears ringing, I took a deep breath. I raised my foot and slammed it, hitting right underneath the doorknob. The door cracked, swinging open. I ran in. ¡°Where the fuck are you?¡± I yelled, looking at the long winding staircase, the tapestries of Val Rador, the large hanging chandelier. There were three directions I could go: into the living room, up the staircase, or through the unmarked door on my left. I checked the unmarked door first. Locked. I shot off the lock and pushed it open. It was a weapons closet. Val had it all: swords, a mace, a crossbow. Handguns, shotguns, a rocket launcher. And, of course, a sword that glimmered. There were two empty spaces where weapons should¡¯ve been. ¡°You know,¡± she whispered. I turned around and saw Lusu. My gun was aimed at her heart. The white swirls on her skin swirled quicker and quicker. She looked like a human hurricane, a hurricane of pigment swirling around, trapped, unsure what to do. She looked capable of anything in that moment, and I made sure to take notice of those eyes, those pale grey eyes of her that looked like they¡¯d finally found emotion, finally found tears. ¡°I know.¡± --- --- --- Author''s Note: That''s the end of chapter two! Hope everyone enjoyed it. My plan was to post this serial once a week, though I''m wondering if I should post twice a week? Either way, if you don''t feel like waiting, the whole thing has already been posted on my site. Click here for Chapter Three: https://megapulp.wordpress.com/2015/05/02/1-3/ 1.3 ¡°He left,¡± she muttered. ¡°He¡¯s gone.¡± ¡°Where to?¡± I asked. ¡°Does it matter where to?¡± she asked. ¡°Val¡¯s gone. He¡¯s fleeing. He¡¯s¨C I¡¯m finally alone.¡± ¡°Where¡¯s he going?¡± ¡°Where the cops won¡¯t go.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not a cop,¡± I said. ¡°I know,¡± she said. ¡°Where¡¯s he going?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t know for sure, at least.¡± ¡°Where do you think he¡¯s going?¡± ¡°I¨C¡± the words got trapped in her throat. She looked at me, half-confused. ¡°I think he¡¯s going to the Celestial Wall.¡± Damn it. Damn it. ¡°Why would he go there?¡± I asked. ¡°Wants to see what¡¯s on the other side.¡± ¡°He believes the legends?¡± I asked. ¡°Think there¡¯s a god on the other side? A god more powerful than Hostem?¡± She refused to look me in the eye. Kept her line of sight planted firmly on the floor. ¡°He doesn¡¯t know. Who does? He just wants to make sure. I¡­ He¡¯s angry, these days. So angry. Sometimes I think he¡¯s crazy, but sometimes¡­ He¡¯s tired of things that think they¡¯re better than us. He¡¯s tired of the supernatural. He¡¯s got a point. Wouldn¡¯t it be nice, to finally be free of¨C¡± I cut her off, ¡°Why¡¯d he kill Stellavia?¡± ¡°Same thing,¡± she said. ¡°Wanted to send a message, that humans were independent. They didn¡¯t need gods or spirits or walking universes.¡± ¡°Which weapons did he take with him?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she said. She peaked inside the closet. ¡°A gun, and his favorite sword.¡± ¡°You should have said something.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure he¡¯s wrong,¡± she said. She had a point, but I didn¡¯t care. I ran out the door. I had to reach the Celestial Wall before Val did. If I didn¡¯t, this would be the end of the world. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª Passed the bar on the way out of the city. Darkness had come, and I wondered how many hours I had until the Wise Tree sent his boys after me. I passed by restaurants and bars, happy couples, laughing families. Didn¡¯t they know? Didn¡¯t they know the universe was dead? I sped forward, until I couldn¡¯t. Soon as I reached downtown, the streets were packed. The pace felt glacial, green light turning red, red light turning green. I was stuck, with nothing to do but sit. Looked at myself in the rear view mirror. How long had it been since I¡¯d slept? I looked pale, bleary-eyed. I should¡¯ve figured out it was Val sooner, damn it. I should¡¯ve known. The Hyalu didn¡¯t have enough motive. Killing Stellavia to spite Val? It didn¡¯t make sense. Beckett couldn¡¯t have done it, because I knew she couldn¡¯t, but also because the wheelchair meant she couldn¡¯t get the right angle for the blow. Evan had the most motive, really, but that damn arm of his was useless: he was practically a lefty, these days. Then there was Val. Vile, murderous, apocalyptic Val. I should¡¯ve known. Maybe I just didn¡¯t want to know. Someone honked. I realized the light was green and sped forward. Bar, restaurant, bar, restaurant. I needed something to eat, once all this was over. Just something to¨C Evan walked out of his bar. No. It wasn¡¯t Evan. A hulking brute walked out of Evan¡¯s bar. It was Val, draped in artificial lighting. His sword wept blood. I stopped the car. Got out. Someone honked. My pistol was drawn before I knew what I was doing. ¡°What are you, crazy?¡± a voice from behind me yelled. I almost turned around. I almost shot him. My hands were shaking. ¡°Val!¡± I yelled. ¡°Val, how could you?¡± He didn¡¯t turn around. No emotion on his face, no moment where he asked for forgiveness. He paused for half a second. Then he ran. *BANG* *CRASH* I missed. The window to Evan¡¯s bar shattered. *BANG* *CRACK* I missed again. Brick cracked. Breathe in, breathe out, I thought to myself. I breathed in. I breathed out. Steadied my hands as much as I could. He darted through the night sky like a raven on the run. He was already so far. I pulled the trigger. *BANG* A flash of crimson. A shot in the calf. He turned the corner. I ran. *CLACK* *CLACK* *CLACK* My shoes beat against the concrete sidewalk, and as I ran I couldn¡¯t help but notice the people around me. They looked afraid, but not of Val. They looked afraid of me. What had I become? What had I become, after all these years of melancholy, of nostalgia, of nostalgia for a time when my best friend was genocide incarnate? My lungs burned. Felt like I was about to collapse. But I wasn¡¯t going to collapse, because I was so close to answers, to closure. Why did we kill a god? Why did you bring me with you? Do you ever regret it? My head swam in the darkness, but I turned the corner. There lay Val, soaked in blood, two shots in the chest, one to his head. My head swam, my heart swam, my whole body turned to rubber as the police sirens wailed. I¡¯d killed the man who¡¯d killed a god, and wasn¡¯t that worth something? But I hadn¡¯t meant to. I hadn¡¯t shot him three times. I¡¯d shot at him three times, but missed twice. Never in the head. Never in the chest. It didn¡¯t make sense. Yelling. Round scared eyes gazing. Cold metal binding my wrists. None of it made any sense. I barely noticed the cops taking me in, but still I spoke up. ¡°What¡¯s, uh.¡± I looked for the right word. Nothing felt right. Had I really killed him? ¡°What¡¯s my crime?¡± ¡°Shut up.¡± The cop car began to pull away. Had a new car smell. The cops smelled new, too. Were they rookies, or was I just old? People staring. No, not people. Monsters. A Leviathan, an Argus, a million beady eyes flickering in and out of existence, and if you looked real close you realized that no one was watching at all, no, they had no goddamn idea what was going on. They were too busy with their lives, which I guess was my greatest strength: no life, no distractions. It was just me staring down the world, but this time the world had won. Why¡¯d I kill Val? Why¡¯d I feel like a caged beast? ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª ¡°You really screwed the pooch on this one,¡± the Wise Tree said, his voice crackling. ¡°Gave you a chance to run, and you killed an innocent. You¡¯re a monster, George. A goddamn monster.¡± I laughed at that. Innocent. Innocent? He had no idea. Head was still swimming, as I tried to get my bearings. The smell of rotten forest made it all a little easier. Made me feel grounded. ¡°You¡¯re not wrong,¡± I said. ¡°What made you kill Val Rador?¡± ¡°Where¡¯s Vicky?¡± ¡°Not here,¡± the Wise Tree said. ¡°What made you kill Val Rador?¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡± ¡°You did.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t have a reason because I didn¡¯t kill him.¡± ¡°We¡¯ve got a lot of witnesses placing you at the scene.¡± ¡°I shot at him, sure. But I didn¡¯t kill him. One bullet grazed his leg.¡± ¡°Not on the corpse,¡± the Wise Tree said. ¡°He didn¡¯t get shot in the calf.¡± ¡°Not on the corpse,¡± I repeated, chewing over the words. ¡°You killed Val.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t.¡± ¡°Witnesses have you at the scene.¡± ¡°They say I shot him. Anybody see him die?¡± The silence terrified me. Made me feel alone, unreal. It was good when he talked again. ¡°They saw you shoot, and they saw him dead. That¡¯s enough,¡± the Wise Tree said. ¡°Even if that wasn¡¯t enough, you shot at him while pretending to be an officer. That¡¯s ten years, at least.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll go to jail for that,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s what I did.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll go to jail for his murder. Then they¡¯ll execute you.¡± ¡°Has The Judge weighed in on my case?¡± ¡°Guilty,¡± the Wise Tree said. ¡°Week in jail, then execution.¡± Death. Death, by the hand of another. I wondered which was better: being killed or killing yourself. Was it better to be in control of your own destiny? Or was it better to not have a choice in the matter? Dive into the unknown or be thrown into it? I¡¯d tried to kill myself twice now: once by jumping off a building, and then again by offering myself to the Death Forest. I wanted to think of execution and suicide as the same thing, but I knew they weren¡¯t. I wanted to think of death as just a continuation of life. It was, in some ways, but not in the important sense. ¡°Can I see Vicky before I go?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Can I have a cigarette?¡± ¡°We confiscated them.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have any cigarettes?¡± The Wise Tree looked over my shoulder. An elf walked into my line of vision. She was pale, with short greased blond hair that stuck to her scalp. She had the obligatory ears, as well as a three-piece suit. She slipped a cigarette out and placed it in-between my lips. ¡°Fiat lux,¡± she said, snapping so that a spark of flame shot out from her fingers and onto the cigarette. I took in a deep breath of smoke. Then, slowly, I let it out. ¡°Thanks,¡± I said. She didn¡¯t respond. Instead, she moved behind me again. I swear I couldn¡¯t hear her breathing. ¡°She¡¯s here to take me to the jail?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± the Wise Tree croaked. ¡°Guess you¡¯re not all bark and no bite,¡± I told the Wise Tree. ¡°I¡¯ll miss that sick, ugly mug of yours, you stupid piece of¨C¡± ¡°Take him away,¡± the Wise Tree said. ¡°He¡¯s gone crazy.¡± ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª Darkness. I don¡¯t remember when they knocked me out. All I knew was that when I blinked my eyes open, I still saw nothing but darkness. Cold metal bound my wrists and ankles. I was hanging by my wrists, so I pulled myself upright. Felt the concrete wall behind me. Chained to a wall. Jail. ¡°Hello?¡± My voice echoed in the darkness. ¡°Hello?¡± A little louder this time. The way my voice came back made the room seem pretty big. It seemed really big, for just one guy. It was cold, too. Cold and damp. I tugged at one of the chains on my wrist. No give. Each was about the length of my arm, but they were tightly bolted into the wall. I shivered. It was going to be one long hell of a week. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª Past became present. Thoughts turned to physicality. Memories became realities. I sat in Stellavia¡¯s temple, some thirty years ago. Her body twisted and turned, dancing, worshipping in the dark while being worshipped in the dark. There was something beautiful in my lack of presence. Nobody asked me to sign their copy of Godkiller. All our eyes were turned towards the stars, which glimmered in the Holy gloom. A voice whispered into my ear, ¡°Hostem¡¯s eyes slowly winked out of existence, and I wondered if we¡¯d ever think of him as a hero, a god among gods, a villain worthy of the greatest form of worship: murder. Oh, Hostem killed so many of us, and he planned on killing many more. But did our morality apply to him? Was his genocide equal to our deicide?¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. The lines from my book sounded all wrong. The nameless voice in the dark emphasized the wrong words, turning it from conjecture into scripture, throwing my own prose at me in a Holy fashion, in a Holy setting. I sat there, silent, hoping I could appreciate this escape without some vulture asking me why I did what I did. ¡°You¡¯re a good writer, kid,¡± the voice told me. I turned around and saw that the voice in the dark came from Beckett. ¡°I don¡¯t know if you remember me,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s been a long time.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I whispered. ¡°I remember you.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s get out of the dark,¡± she said. ¡°Seems you¡¯ve been spending too much time in the past.¡± I turned around and caught one last glimpse of Stellavia. It was the most beautiful glance I ever got of her: the stars and planets moving across the body. I felt for a moment that I could reach out and touch it. I felt that I could hold the universe in my hands; protect it, if need be. Then I was gone, whisked away by Beckett into a new life. I wouldn¡¯t look at Stellavia for the next 30 years. The images changed. I was somewhere else, somewhen else. ¡°Mother always said I wouldn¡¯t amount to anything,¡± I¡¯d admitted to Val so many years ago, while I¡¯d been driving us down to the temple that stood at the base of the Celestial Wall. ¡°If only Mother could see us now,¡± Val said. He did that, sometimes. Pretending to be my brother. It¡¯s a great thing I¡¯m about to do,¡± he said. Back then, I figured he meant to say ¡®we¡¯re¡¯. I was a fool, always a fool. ¡°Man, we¡¯re talking about unshackling humanity,¡± he said. ¡°Humanity, that¡¯s been under the tyranny of gods since the beginning of it all. But we didn¡¯t ask for the gods. We don¡¯t need the gods. This is beautiful. This is something. We¡¯re about to become our own gods, and isn¡¯t that beautiful? The gods fucked us over, oh how they fucked us over. But now we¡¯re going to do something. Now, we¡¯re going to be something.¡± ¡°If we live to tell the tale,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯ll be the tale,¡± he said. ¡°The Myth of a Generation, a Century, a Species.¡± The images warped again, going further and further back. Deeper into the past. Deeper into misery. This view was short, a brief series of images. Me taking an axe to the kitchen table I¡¯d just inherited. I took the spindly table leg and broke it across my knee, satisfied by the sound of it breaking. *CRACK* The scene changed again. Mother, sitting at the kitchen table, cradling a steaming hot cup of coffee. Me, no more than twelve years old, standing in the doorway, feeling so cold. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, ma.¡± She glared at the coffee, like she¡¯d been hypnotized. ¡°I don¡¯t know why I lived,¡± I said. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to.¡± She lifted her head up, taking her gaze off the coffee. She looked outside our small kitchen window. I stood there, waiting, too confused to cry. Things never were the same after that. Some colors faded, others got brighter. Images twisted and turned, until finally I was somewhere else. ¡°You better do good in school,¡± my brother told me, the two of us trudging through the snow. ¡°You¡¯re the smart one. You¡¯re going to represent our name, out there in the world.¡± ¡°No,¡± I said, laughing. ¡°I¡¯m not anybody special. You¡¯re the one that¡¯s gonna save the world, least that¡¯s what the Elf Lady said. And the elves can see the future, so¨C¡± ¡°The elves don¡¯t know what they¡¯re talking about,¡± my brother said. The two of us were getting closer to the car. The dreaded moment approached. ¡°Everybody else believes them.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not going to save the world,¡± he said. He was sixteen at the time, about five years older than me. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t know how to. I just want to live and be happy, if I can.¡± ¡°Well, you can¡¯t,¡± I said, big dopey grin on my face. ¡°You have to save the whole world, you dumb goof. You have to save us all.¡± I¡¯d never forget how quickly the mood changed. My brother stopped in the snow, practically midstep. Then he looked at me with a sad serious look, sadder and seriouser than I¡¯d ever seen him look at me before. ¡°I can¡¯t ever save you,¡± he said. His hands were on my shoulder, his voice low. ¡°I can help you, but I can¡¯t ever save you. That¡¯s why you have to learn to save yourself. You got that?¡± I hesitated. ¡°How come you can¡¯t save me? The Elf Lady said you can save everybody. Aren¡¯t I everybody?¡± He got down on his knees, grabbing my face, looking me in the eyes. ¡°It¡¯s complicated.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not complicated,¡± I said. ¡°The Elf Lady said you¡¯re going to save everybody, and I¡¯m a part of everybody, so you¡¯re going to save me.¡± ¡°You¡¯re young,¡± he said. ¡°You don¡¯t understand.¡± ¡°No,¡± I said, stomping my foot. It slushed in the snow. ¡°You don¡¯t understand. You have to save me!¡± ¡°I can¡¯t,¡± he said. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t be so sad,¡± I said, ¡°You¡¯re going to be like The Hero! Isn¡¯t that great?¡± He put his face on my shoulder. ¡°They think I¡¯m someone I¡¯m not.¡± My shoulder was getting wet. I was annoyed by that. ¡°The Elf Lady knows who you are more than you know who you are,¡± I said. ¡°You just have to deal with it. You¡¯re going to save me, and that¡¯s that.¡± He lifted his head up. ¡°What if I didn¡¯t save you?¡± ¡°You¡¯re not going to¨C¡± ¡°Just imagine,¡± he said. ¡°Imagine a completely different world where I can¡¯t save you.¡± I almost thought about it, but then shook my head. ¡°I don¡¯t want to live in a world like that.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t,¡± he said. ¡°Nope,¡± I said. ¡°Good thing you¡¯re going to be a hero!¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± he said. ¡°So you¡¯re ready to save me?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± he said, voice sounding weak. ¡°I¡¯ll save you.¡± ¡°And what about everyone else?¡± ¡°They¡¯re not my brother,¡± he said. ¡°They¡¯re not my responsibility.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll work on it,¡± I said. He just nodded his head, standing up and moving towards the car. I moved towards it, too. When we were about to get in he said, ¡°Stop.¡± I did, taking my hand away from the car door. ¡°You still want to learn how to drive?¡± he asked. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°But mom says I¨C¡± ¡°You drive, today.¡± He chucked the keys over the roof of the car. I fumbled around for a second, but still managed to catch them. They were cold in my already cold hands. ¡°But I don¡¯t know how,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m going to teach you.¡± I walked around to the driver¡¯s seat of the car. I didn¡¯t really want to drive right then and there, but I figured that my brother knew best. I opened the car door and got in. The wheel felt big around my hands. ¡°Shouldn¡¯t we do this when it¡¯s not snowing out?¡± I asked. ¡°School¡¯s not far,¡± he said. ¡°You can reach the pedals?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Put the key in the ignition.¡± I turned the key, but the car didn¡¯t sound right. ¡°Other way.¡± I turned the key the other way, and the engine sputtered to life. ¡°That¡¯s good,¡± he said. ¡°Now look behind you.¡± I did. Nothing behind me but snow. ¡°It¡¯s clear,¡± I said. My voice squeaked a little. ¡°Then put your foot on the ignition pedal, gently.¡± I did. My foot leaned into the pedal, ever so slightly, and the car began to back out. ¡°Good,¡± he said. ¡°Keep it going. Keep it going.¡± I did. The two of us drove for a while, him occasionally having to explain something to me. But for the most part it was easy. Move the wheel and the car moved with you. You hit one pedal when you wanted to go fast, you hit the other when you wanted to go slow. When we got close to to school, my brother said, ¡°Let¡¯s keep going.¡± ¡°You just said I had to study hard in school.¡± ¡°Not today,¡± he said. ¡°Not today.¡± I kept driving. It didn¡¯t feel comfortable, but there weren¡¯t all that many cars on the road. So I drove and I drove. After a while, my brother stopped telling me how I was doing. He stopped warning me if I veered too close to the centerline. He just sat there while I drove, farther and farther into the white nothingness. Eventually I asked, ¡°Am I doing good?¡± ¡°Great,¡± he said. ¡°Running low on gas,¡± I said, looking at the car meter. ¡°Should I turn back?¡± ¡°Just a little while more,¡± he muttered. ¡°I¡¯m enjoying the ride. You¡¯re a good driver.¡± ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, smiling. I thought we were going to fall into another silence, but my brother asked, ¡°What do you want to be when you grow up?¡± ¡°A writer,¡± I said. ¡°I really liked that lady who came and talked to you about the Elf Lady¡¯s prophecy. She was cool.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± he said. I looked over at him for a second, and saw that he was looking at a big oak we were passing. ¡°Cool,¡± he said. ¡°But would you ever want to be a hero?¡± ¡°Nah,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯re the one who¡¯s supposed to save the world. I don¡¯t ever want to be a hero. That¡¯d be awful, for me. It¡¯s just not what I¡¯m meant to do.¡± He nodded his head as if I was some sage. ¡°Stop the car,¡± he said. ¡°I want to drive us home.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± I said. I stopped the car, putting it into park. He got out of the car, and so did I. We switched places. ¡°You know I love you, right?¡± he asked, starting the car up again. ¡°Of course I do,¡± I said. ¡°You¡¯re asking stupid stuff today.¡± ¡°Maybe you¡¯re right,¡± he said, speeding up. ¡°Maybe I am stupid.¡± ¡°What are you doing?¡± ¡°What¡¯s best for you.¡± The car veered off the road. ¡°Come on!¡± ¡°I love you,¡± he said, the tree getting closer. ¡°No!¡± ¡°It¡¯s what¡¯s best.¡± ¡°Stop!¡± ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± ¡°Stop!¡± ¡°I love¨C¡± Darkness. Darkness. I blinked my eyes open, coming back to the present. The greasy-haired elf from before stood in front of me. ¡°You were screaming,¡± she said. ¡°How long have I been here?¡± I asked. ¡°Two days.¡± --- Author''s Note: That''s the end of Chapter Three! If you don''t feel like waiting for the next chapter, the rest of the story has already been posted on my site. Click here for Chapter Four: https://megapulp.wordpress.com/2015/05/02/1-4/ 1.4 ¡°I¡¯m gonna die in 30 minutes,¡± the elf said. ¡°Want a smoke?¡± ¡°If you¡¯re offering,¡± I said. The elf took a pack out of her pocket. She flipped the pack open and slid out a single cigarette. ¡°Open your mouth,¡± she said. I did, ever so slightly. She slid the cigarette in there. It felt good on my lips. ¡°Fiat Lux.¡± She snapped her fingers. A spark flew off her fingers and onto the cigarette. I took a deep breath in. The smoke filled my lungs, and I let it out through my nose. The cigarette hung by my lips. It had no other option, since my hands were bound. ¡°You¡¯re not going to have one?¡± I asked. ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°Worried about your health?¡± I asked. There¡¯s never as good a time to crack wise as there is when you¡¯re about to die. No consequences. Thing is, she was going to die even sooner than me. Why? ¡°No,¡± she said. She stood there, melancholic. Elves figured out pretty young when they were going to die, because they didn¡¯t experience time linearly. Well, that¡¯s not entirely true. When they were young ¡ª say, up to 80 years old ¡ª they might¡¯ve seen it linearly. But as soon as they grew up, as soon as they grew into everything that made elves elves, they saw time all at once. There was no past, and there was no future. There was just a long series of presents, all of time existing simultaneously. So she would¡¯ve known her death was a long time coming. But the thought of death must¡¯ve been hard to swallow, after living for a millennium or two. ¡°You know how it¡¯s going to go?¡± I asked. ¡°Or is it something internal?¡± ¡°Not internal,¡± she said. Was I going to kill her? Elves rarely talked about the future. The more they talked about it, the more the people around them might change it. And changing the future from the one you¡¯d seen could be painful. It meant your future would get pulled out from under you, and made your view of the future worthless. Of course, there were a few Elf Ladies who got around the rules. But no one had figured out quite how they managed to do it. Ordinary elf folk could tell the future right once, and someone would change their actions to better their futures. Then, their version of the future will no longer be the right one: a disorienting fact that made life hard. Dying elves didn¡¯t have any reason to care about the rules, but they also had the least amount of future to reveal. ¡°How do you go?¡± I asked. ¡°Quickly,¡± she said. ¡°Beast comes in here and grabs me. Then? Nothing.¡± ¡°What sort of beast?¡± I asked. ¡°Don¡¯t recognize it.¡± ¡°How old are you?¡± ¡°1,683.¡± ¡°You haven¡¯t seen anything like it in 1,683 years?¡± I asked. ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°Except in my dreams, my nightmares. This thing has haunted me for a long, long time. I¡¯ll be glad to finally confront it.¡± ¡°What does it do to me?¡± ¡°Nothing, as far as I can see,¡± she said. ¡°Probably something, once I¡¯m dead and gone.¡± ¡°Why are you telling me all this?¡± ¡°Because I want to know,¡± she said. ¡°Do you know what the thing is?¡± There was a sort of desperation in her eyes, the sort of desperation that can only come from thinking about something for so long. It¡¯s the sort of look that comes after obsession, after you¡¯ve thought through the problem so many times that it¡¯s become a regular part of your life. 1,600 years was a long time. ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± I said. ¡°Describe it.¡± ¡°Blue skin,¡± she said. ¡°Blue, transparent skin, so transparent that I can see the bones underneath. The bones are a little big, but human-looking.¡± ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°Never seen anything like it.¡± ¡°Do you have any friends?¡± she asked. ¡°Anyone who¡¯d want to break you out of here?¡± ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°A couple friends, but no one who¡¯d be willing to break me out. One¡¯s a cop, the other¡¯s a wheelchair-bound misanthrope. Both black, not blue.¡± ¡°I know it¡¯s not an angel,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ve never seen a devil. You think it¡¯s a devil?¡± ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for you my whole life,¡± she said. ¡°Not really waiting. Despising. Thinking about. Wondering. I always wondered who you were, why you were in the dungeon. Your relationship to the monster, if it was trying to break you free.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t have the answers.¡± ¡°Did you kill him?¡± she asked. ¡°Val Rador?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± she said. ¡°Did you kill him?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°They say you killed him.¡± ¡°I know.¡± ¡°If this thing breaks you out, don¡¯t kill again.¡± ¡°I never did,¡± I said, instinctively, almost angrily. Then I remembered. I hadn¡¯t killed Val Rador, but I had killed. ¡°I won¡¯t,¡± I said. She sighed, sticking her hands in her pockets. She began to pace around the room. When she was close, I could see her, but the room was big enough and dark enough that she was often shrouded by shadow. So she¡¯d leave, and it would be like she¡¯d never existed. Then she¡¯d come back into the dim light, and it was a revelation. Finally she said, ¡°I¡¯d hoped you would have answers.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t.¡± ¡°I knew you wouldn¡¯t. I knew you wouldn¡¯t. But I doubted it could be true. I doubted I would ever die without knowing. Then I saw a picture of you 40 years ago, after all the business with Hostem. And I saw you at the police station, confused, accused of murdering Val without looking like a murderer. And I knew my death was part of something so much bigger. I knew the world had a problem.¡± I stood there, hanging by chains, not knowing what to say. So I asked a question. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you find me sooner?¡± I asked. ¡°Because I didn¡¯t,¡± she said. ¡°That wasn¡¯t a part of my future.¡± I nodded my head. That made sense, and yet none of this made sense. A see-through creature? A creature with visible bones? ¡°I¡¯ll be sad to see you go,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± She squinted her eyes and nodded her head, as if she didn¡¯t want my apology. ¡°It¡¯s not right,¡± she said. ¡°I thought you¡¯d be responsible somehow.¡± I might be. I didn¡¯t know, since it hadn¡¯t happened yet. But it didn¡¯t feel wise to mention that fact. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m not too sad,¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ll be missing much.¡± ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°The end of the world¡¯s coming. At least, I think it is.¡± It made me feel dumb, but I repeated myself, ¡°What do you mean?¡± ¡°Elves don¡¯t like to share thoughts of the future, even among themselves,¡± she said. ¡°But sometimes, late at night, often after having had too many drinks, we¡¯ll reveal when our timeline ends. We won¡¯t reveal the how of it ending, of course. But we¡¯ll reveal the when. And do you want to know something? Most of the elves I talk to don¡¯t last much longer than me.¡± ¡°An apocalypse?¡± ¡°Maybe,¡± she said. ¡°I think so. Can¡¯t help but wonder if I¡¯m the beginning of The End.¡± I wondered, too. She wouldn¡¯t quite be the apocalyptic beginning ¡ª that distinction had to belong to Stellavia. But she was pretty damn close. I hung by the chains, wondering while she paced across the dungeon floor. ¡°You think we could change the future?¡± I asked her. ¡°I mean, wouldn¡¯t it be worth it, to save your life?¡± ¡°Thought about it. Thought about it a lot, actually,¡± she said. That was the problem with elves. They¡¯d thought through so much of their futures. I hated talking to them, because I always felt four steps behind. I guess I was. ¡°But it¡¯s not worth it,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯d rather die than see my timeline ripped out from under me.¡± ¡°Because it hurts?¡± I asked. ¡°Like hell,¡± she said. ¡°You go crazy. If you¡¯re lucky, you figure enough out to right yourself. But not many do.¡± ¡°So you¡¯d rather die.¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to die,¡± she said. ¡°How about helping me change the future after¨C¡± I almost said, ¡®after you die,¡¯ but I stopped short of that last, ugly word. ¡°Help me figure out how to beat this thing.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know enough,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve researched it.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± she said. ¡°Nobody knew anything about it?¡± ¡°So far as the world is concerned, a creature with blue translucent skin doesn¡¯t exist.¡± Sure, as far as the outside world was concerned. But not as far as I was concerned. Not as far as she was concerned. And right then, my world was just the two of us. ¡°What if the see-through skin isn¡¯t natural?¡± I asked. ¡°What if it¡¯s a condition?¡± ¡°Thought of that, but what sort of condition could cause that?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know, but it¡¯s an idea. Some kind of disease.¡± ¡°A disease that weakened the skin,¡± she said. ¡°Made it thin.¡± ¡°Extremely thin,¡± I said. ¡°Checked all the medical libraries. Even went to a couple of doctors.¡± The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°And?¡± ¡°No dice,¡± she said. Shit. ¡°If we can¡¯t figure out what it is, maybe we can figure out how to hurt it.¡± ¡°Maybe,¡± she said. I realized then that she¡¯d given up decades ¡ª centuries ¡ª before I¡¯d met her. ¡°Thin skin,¡± I said. ¡°Does that make him weak? Sensitive?¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t look weak or sensitive, to me.¡± ¡°He doesn¡¯t have to be weak to have a weakness,¡± I said. ¡°Everything has some sort of weakness.¡± ¡°Probably,¡± she said. ¡°What did his face look like?¡± I ask. ¡°Two eyes, a nose, a mouth,¡± she said. ¡°It looked like a face.¡± ¡°How about emotionally? Angry? Sad? Happy?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she continued. ¡°Might¡¯ve been human, might¡¯ve been sad. I¡¯ve seen the thing so many times that I can¡¯t really see it anymore.¡± ¡°I just need something to work with.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve looked at this problem a long time. There¡¯s nothing. Nothing¨C¡± ¡°A trait,¡± I said. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s not sick, but is just different for some reason. Maybe they were born a mutant, or maybe they¡¯re some magical accident.¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t look anything like magic,¡± she said. ¡°And I¡¯ve seen some foul magic.¡± Shit. Shit. Of course the elf had given up. She knew she was going to die. But me? I didn¡¯t know I was going to die. I was human, so my whole life was just one big surprise after another. And the fight. My god, the fight. That thing could kill me, or it could let me go. There were a thousand possibilities, but I couldn¡¯t begin to work through them if I couldn¡¯t figure out what the hell it was. In my travels I¡¯d met a dragon who breathed blue fire. ¡°What if it¡¯s magically irradiated?¡± I asked. ¡°With dragon fire. Is that a possibility?¡± ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°His skin wasn¡¯t burning. It looked like a translucent glow.¡± ¡°What if it was irradiated with something else?¡± I asked. ¡°Like what?¡± I sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± Felt like I¡¯d hit a wall, so I stopped talking. She kept on pacing, waiting for the inevitable. ¡°Was it a good life?¡± I asked. She stopped. She was in the darkness, not the light. ¡°Yeah,¡± she said. ¡°You?¡± My throat closed up a little. ¡°No.¡± She stood there in the silence. Then she went back to pacing. ¡°Let me out of these chains,¡± I said. ¡°Maybe I can sneak up on the thing. They took my gun away, right? How about your gun? Do you have a gun?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not how it goes,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯re chained to the wall, the beast comes in, it kills me. That¡¯s how it goes. It¡¯s destiny.¡± ¡°Fuck destiny,¡± I spat out. ¡°You can¡¯t say that. You can¡¯t do that. You can¡¯t just cast destiny aside.¡± ¡°Too bad there¡¯s not an angel of destiny,¡± I said. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Nothing.¡± *CLACK* *CLACK* *CLACK* *CLACK* *SPLASH* *CLACK* *CLACK* *CLACK* *CLACK* *SPLASH* *CLACK* *CLACK* *CLACK* *CLACK* *CLACK* *CLACK* *CLACK* There was poetry in her pacing. ¡°It¡¯s important that things go the way they¡¯re supposed to go,¡± she said. ¡°Why?¡± I asked. ¡°I mean what I say. Fuck destiny. Get my hands out of these chains and let me try and kill this fucker.¡± ¡°Like Val killed that god?¡± ¡°Like Val killed that god,¡± I said. ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°This is the plan.¡± ¡°Why do you care about the plan?¡± I asked. ¡°Why the hell would you follow a plan that kills you?¡± ¡°I think there¡¯s a reason elves know the future,¡± she said. ¡°Maybe not think. I believe there¡¯s a reason. How can there be so many wonderful things out there, if there isn¡¯t something to guide it all? How could all of this just happen, by accident?¡± ¡°Hate to break it to you,¡± I said, anger slipping into my voice. ¡°But god¡¯s dead. I saw him get killed.¡± ¡°I think there¡¯s something more than that,¡± she said. ¡°Something bigger.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t let metaphysics blind you with bullshit,¡± I said. ¡°There¡¯s only one thing you know: what you can see with your own two eyes. Elves, humans, dragons, the future. This is all stuff that you know exists. Some higher power? Some higher, unkillable power? You don¡¯t know jack shit about it.¡± ¡°Belief doesn¡¯t require knowledge.¡± ¡°You know what else doesn¡¯t require knowledge?¡± I asked. ¡°Bullshit. I could make up my own goddamn religion if I wanted to. Watch me.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t¨C¡± she began. ¡°Wizard gets bored one day. Takes some clay. He sculpts out an environment, and some little clay people to populate it. He watches them go for hours, entertained by their petty lives, by their conflict. Makes some mini-wizards, who help him run the clay people: stirring up conflict, but also stamping it out if it gets out of hand. He loves the conflict so much, because isn¡¯t that what makes things interesting? Aren¡¯t living creature addicted to conflict, all the trials, all the triumphs? The wizard loves his creations, who fight so hard for their lives. They get into all sorts of petty squabbles, but through it all manage to form a government, a democracy. It¡¯s beautiful, but it¡¯s just the beginning. They¡¯re ready to take on bigger and bigger conflicts. They¡¯re ready to venture into the outside world, to convene with other creatures, and perhaps even confront their god. I went on. ¡°First, they confront the mini-wizards, who¡¯ve acted selfishly and without kindness. The mini-wizards refuse to change, so the clay people kill them all. The wizard loves his clay people dearly, but realizes that they¡¯ve advanced too far. He¡¯s a petty wizard, and he doesn¡¯t want to deal with their struggles. And so, with a snap of his fingers, he attempts to wipe out life. Of course, the life wipes him out first. The clay people saved themselves, but now they¡¯re rudderless. Servants without masters. Eventually, they all end up killing themselves.¡± By the end of my speech, the elf looked like she was holding back tears. ¡°If you¡¯ve thought I was cold during this conversation,¡± she said. ¡°If you thought I should have tried harder to help you save your life, just know that I heard this story many times, that I¡¯ve lived with it, for all these years. Know that your nihilism has been a dark cloud hanging over me my whole life.¡± ¡°Hung over mine, too,¡± I said. She paced, I hung. And in the silence, I realized it wouldn¡¯t be long now. I realized I¡¯d given up. How much time was left? Ten minutes? Five? Three? Time blurred together in this place, with no sun and no stars. I wondered if that¡¯s how the elves felt: blurred. If every moment was happening all the time, were any of them happening? Or was it just going through the motions, each moment a boring¨C ¡°It¡¯s time,¡± she said. ¡°Wh¨C¡± I began to say, but I was cut off. The thin-skinned beast broke the wooden door, charging into the room. It was just like she¡¯d described: blue, with all the bones showing. I wondered if it was human. Or rather, if it had been human. It didn¡¯t roar. I wanted it to, but it didn¡¯t. After the initial besatial breaking down of the door, it seemed quiet. Cold. Calculated. It placed its palm over the elf¡¯s eyes. She was dead already. My eyes watered. I¡¯m going to die. When the door had broken down, the elf had stood there, calm. What had she thought of that, for all these years? Had she wondered at how calmly she could handle death, and the roaring? Or did she know that this was her salvation, the way to escape her nightmares? She escaped her nightmare by living it. But this wasn¡¯t my nightmare. This felt wrong. The beast stood there, arm glowing, radiating a wild blue. ¡°What are you?¡± I asked. I looked into its eyes. Its face looked pretty human: no pointy ears, no defiantly inhuman feature. But it was so much bigger than any man I¡¯d seen: nine feet tall, with muscles like mountains. It looked sad, when I asked my question, so I asked, ¡°Who are you?¡± Her head was clasped in its hand. It brought the other hand towards me. ¡°Were you always like this?¡± I asked. ¡°Is this a disease? A condition? Do you like what you are?¡± The idea wasn¡¯t that it would answer this barrage of questions. It was that it¡¯d answer one of them, the right one, the one that resonated with it. It leaned in close. My skin tingled. I looked at my wrist, which basked in its glow. I could see my bones. ¡°I am the God that you cannot know,¡± it whispered. ¡°I am the God that you cannot kill.¡± It placed its hand over my eyes. --- Author''s Note: That''s the end of Chapter Four! If you don''t feel like waiting for the next chapter, the rest of the story has already been posted on my site. Click here for Chapter Five: https://megapulp.wordpress.com/2015/05/02/1-5/ 1.5 Grass in my mouth. I spat it out. While spitting it out, I realized I was alive. At least, I thought I was alive. It was hard to tell. I stuck my hand in-between the blades of grass. Wet grass. Cold, wet grass. The realization hit me: I was alive. All I felt was joy. I hadn¡¯t felt this good in a long time. Maybe ever. I laughed, realizing I hadn¡¯t heard such an innocent laugh in a long, long time. Actually, I¡¯d never heard a laugh like that. I lifted myself up a little, so that I was on my knees instead of laying down. The hands weren¡¯t mine. The clothes weren¡¯t, either. I touched my ear to confirm the suspicion: I was an elf. ¡°What the fuck,¡± I muttered to myself, in a voice that wasn¡¯t my own. Talking wasn¡¯t helping. I groped my pockets, finding a wallet. Opening it, I realized it was a badge wallet. An eight-point silver star looked back on me. Squinting, I was able to read the words on the badge: ¡°Elf Guard¡±. I stood up, but the height was all wrong. I was just a little bit taller than I¡¯d been a¡­ How long had it been? An hour ago? A day ago? A week ago? I looked up at the moons. They were on opposite sides of the sky, framing it, two crescents hanging like parentheses in the darkness. It must¡¯ve been past midnight. For a moment, that made me happy. Meant I could try and go back to the city under the shroud of darkness. But then I realized I wouldn¡¯t have to worry about cover. I was no longer a criminal, and I wasn¡¯t an escaped convict. I was an elf, a guard. I smiled, only to realize I was on my knees again. All I wanted was to lay down again. I did lay down again. I was just tired. Sleeping. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª I woke up to the sound of dogs barking. Dog breath hit my nose in all the wrong ways. ¡°Where¨C¡± I stopped short of saying anything else when I heard my voice. It hadn¡¯t been some weird fever dream. I knew where I was. The problem was that I didn¡¯t know who I was. ¡°What in god¡¯s name happened, Sam?¡± the sergeant asked. Sam. So the elf¡¯s name was Sam. I had to think fast, if I wanted to stay out of the loony bin. ¡°Someone broke into the prison,¡± I said. ¡°Big thing.¡± Blue. See-through bones. Deity. I almost spilled the beans. I was glad I didn¡¯t. ¡°Not that,¡± he spat. ¡°Crap, you¡¯ve already forgotten your own timeline.¡± ¡°My own¨C¡± I stopped short. This wasn¡¯t where I was supposed to be. But where was I supposed to be? I stood up. ¡°The prison break was destined to happen,¡± he said. ¡°That wasn¡¯t the surprise. The surprise is that you were supposed to call it in hours ago.¡± ¡°Call it in,¡± I said. ¡°I thought we had an accidental death on our hands,¡± he said, chuckling. ¡°I was about ready to call in the Temp Police.¡± ¡°Uh, yeah,¡± I said. ¡°So what made you go off schedule?¡± he asked. ¡°That beast. Did it fry your brain?¡± ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°Didn¡¯t fry my brain.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t mess with your view of the timeline?¡± ¡°Messed with the timeline,¡± I said. ¡°Not my view of it. Knocked me out somehow. Kept me from making the call.¡± In one way, I¡¯d lucked out: elves rarely talked about the future with each other, for fear that it would disturb the timeline. So long as I could explain why I hadn¡¯t followed the timeline already, I should be in the clear. ¡°And it took the prisoner?¡± the elf asked. Talking about the unchangeable past? That was a bit more difficult. 50/50 chance, I supposed. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°Prisoner¡¯s gone.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not worried,¡± the elf said. Which was enough to make me think that I hadn¡¯t seen the last of the prisoner. George. Myself. I guessed Sam hadn¡¯t died after all. She¡¯d just become less of an elf. The elf gave me a salute, and turned to talk away. If I made one wrong move, if I didn¡¯t do exactly as Sam would¡¯ve done, he would see something was fishy. I took a step. The elf was already off in the distance, running towards his future. He wasn¡¯t paying attention. He already knew when we were next going to meet, so he didn¡¯t care. Then I realized there was nothing to worry about. I¡¯d already gone against the established timeline by not calling in, by not being wherever I was supposed to be. One false step wasn¡¯t going to get me in trouble. I made a second, more relaxed step. I noticed that the elf¡¯s gun was trained on me. ¡°That step¡¯s not bringing you closer to where you¡¯re supposed to be,¡± the elf said. ¡°You¡¯re not fixing the timeline.¡± Shit. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª I woke up in a bed, to the sound of an elf singing a rhyme. ¡°A sad elf and a glad elf went walking through the wood The glad elf asked the sad elf why he wore a hood. The sad elf sighed while the happy elf sat, and the sad elf told the happy elf his tiny little story. ¡®Everything good¡¯s been done. In the future there is no glory.¡¯¡± It was a shitty rhyme. I wasn¡¯t a poet, but I was a writer. And as a writer, I could tell you it was one shitty-ass rhyme. ¡°Hey,¡± I said, getting the elf¡¯s attention. I opened my eyes and saw that he was laying in the bed next to mine. ¡°Where are we?¡± ¡°A sad elf and a glad elf¨C¡± I cut the elf off before he could continue. ¡°Yeah, I got that,¡± I said. ¡°Where are we?¡± ¡°You¡¯re broken,¡± the elf said. He wasn¡¯t wrong, but it felt a little like the pot calling the kettle black. ¡°Everyone¡¯s broken,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s life.¡± He nodded his head, even though it looked like he didn¡¯t really understand what I was saying. ¡°Especially here,¡± he said. ¡°Where are we?¡± I asked. ¡°A sad elf and a glad elf¨C¡± ¡°Cool it with the poetry,¡± I said. ¡°Where are we?¡± ¡°Where all the broken people go,¡± the elf said. ¡°The madhouse.¡± Shit. Felt like my whole life had been shit, ever since Stellavia had died. ¡°I¡¯m not crazy,¡± I said. ¡°You just admitted you were broken.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t belong here.¡± ¡°If they brought you here, you probably belong here,¡± the elf said. ¡°Don¡¯t worry. This place is scary at first, but eventually you get used to it. They tell you everything that¡¯s going to happen, so your brain¡¯s not so empty.¡± Shit. A while back I¡¯d written a series of articles on elves who¡¯d lost their view of the future. The facts weren¡¯t pretty. 31% of all elves, just a hair under one third, had lost their future. Most went crazy because of it; many ended up homeless. I¡¯d written about how the ones ending up in an asylum were lucky, since many of the homeless elves died of starvation, climate, or violent crimes. But that wasn¡¯t my case. I was fine. My elf brain might be off, but my human mind wasn¡¯t bothered by not knowing the future. Getting locked up in here was the worst case scenario. I knew some of the stuff asylums were known for: abuse, magicshock, lobotomies. As you can imagine, people never came out as sane as they came in. ¡°Do they use magic?¡± I asked. ¡°What?¡± ¡°When they¡¯re giving you a future,¡± I said. ¡°Do they use magic?¡± ¡°Not at first,¡± he said. ¡°If you¡¯re new, they just tell you some stuff that you¡¯re going to do.¡± ¡°Rehabilitating you back into the timestream,¡± I said. ¡°Trying to, at least,¡± he said. ¡°They only use magic if they really think it¡¯ll work. Otherwise, they just keeping telling you the future, so that you know what¡¯s going to happen.¡± ¡°To make you feel comfortable.¡± ¡°It¡¯s better than nothing,¡± he said. I wasn¡¯t so sure. Not knowing what to say, I leaned back into my bed, closing my eyes. The blue beast bursting through the door. The elf¡¯s gun in my face. The sight of my own bones. The images flashed through my mind, so that this whole world felt wrong. I squirmed. This body felt so wrong. ¡°You hear about Stellavia?¡± I asked. ¡°She died,¡± the elf said. ¡°I found out about it a day before it happened.¡± Damn. If just one elf had been willing to give up its sanity, I wouldn¡¯t be here. I¡¯d be at home: drunk, high, or a combination of both. A nurse walked into the room. ¡°Hello, Sam,¡± she said. ¡°Hope you¡¯re feeling alright.¡± ¡°I¡¯m feeling fine,¡± I said. ¡°I highly doubt that.¡± I opened my eyes. She was pale, mean-looking. You know the sort of people who wear a mean smile? The sort of people who wear a smile that looks all wrong: like they¡¯re wearing a smile only because showing their true emotion would scare everyone shitless? She had that sort of smile. ¡°Do you have a newspaper?¡± I asked. Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. ¡°You don¡¯t need to see the news, yet,¡± the nurse said. ¡°I¡¯d like to see the news.¡± ¡°Current events will just cloud your mind,¡± she said. ¡°Right now you¡¯re sensitive: so focused on the present moment that you can¡¯t see the past or the future.¡± I thought back on my past: my brother¡¯s death, my mother¡¯s disappointment. Val Rador killing Stellavia and me killing Val Rador. I didn¡¯t want to think too much about the past. With all the talk of the apocalypse, I didn¡¯t want to think about the future too much, either. ¡°I like the present,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s a delusional thing to say.¡± ¡°Delusional?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t understand the grand scheme of things,¡± she said. ¡°When your future is taken away from you, you get a narrow, human sort of perspective. It¡¯s only when you look at the world with a wider lens that you can truly understand it. It¡¯s only by getting a glimpse at the whole that you can understand the parts.¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter what I see,¡± I said. ¡°It matters what I do. And the only things I¡¯m doing are in the present.¡± ¡°If you only look at the present, you can¡¯t make wise choices.¡± I sighed, giving up the argument I obviously shouldn¡¯t have started. This was the elf culture, the elf way. Not the only elf culture, of course. Not their only way. But it was the dominant way, the one you could expect to encounter in most places. Life as chess game. I guess I liked something a little wilder, a little less obsessive. Sometimes I thought before I acted, sometimes I acted before I thought. But these elves just thought, going through the motions of action while getting stuck in their heads. I felt sorry for them. ¡°Guess I¡¯m not a smart elf,¡± I said. The words sounded all wrong, coming from me but not my voice. I liked them all the same. ¡°It would seem not,¡± the nurse said. The nurse walked out the door before I thought of whatever else I wanted to say. ¡°See?¡± the elf said. ¡°You do belong here.¡± ¡°Guess you¡¯re right.¡± I closed my eyes. My body felt wrong. The weight on the chest, the absence between my legs. It just wasn¡¯t me. I hoped the feeling would go away. Maybe if I just ignored it, it would go away. Turn my attention outward, to this place I¡¯d gotten myself locked up in. It wasn¡¯t so bad, once I thought about it. They must¡¯ve given us a couple free meals a day. I had a warm bed to go to, and nobody expected much of me. After everything that had happened, wasn¡¯t it best to just lie down? Lie down, and let life know that it had beaten me? Give up. It was what I should have done from the beginning. Lie down and give up. I remembered my brother. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª My stomach grumbled. The Sun was setting and the first moon was rising, while I sat on our front porch in a rocking chair, making it rock as quickly as I could. It was a moment of waiting, and like so many kids who wait, I was impatient. I couldn¡¯t wait for dinner, I couldn¡¯t wait for our neighbor to stop by, and I couldn¡¯t wait for my brother to come home. My brother, Nick. He was the coolest guy I¡¯d ever known. Always did his best. Everyone in the neighborhood loved him, even if it sometimes seemed like he worried about the little things too much. There was an Elf Lady in town that day. A fortune teller. I¡¯d gone to see her the day before, and she was really cool. Had a crystal ball, incense, the works. Mom said she was probably a fraud, but I don¡¯t know. She seemed pretty believable to me. My brother wasn¡¯t even going to go, but I insisted. She was so cool, and he¡¯d be missing out if he didn¡¯t go. So I was sitting there on the porch, waiting for him to come home. I was waiting for a lot of things, but that¡¯s the thing about waiting. Sometimes, you get what you expect. Sometimes, you don¡¯t. My neighbor Beckett came into view. She walked down the street, hands in her pockets, something in-between her lips. It looked kind of like a cigar, but I knew it wasn¡¯t. Too thin. She took the thing out of her mouth for a second to laugh, though I didn¡¯t see what there was to laugh about. Throwing her head back, I thought she looked cool. She had on a black pinstripe suit with blue paint splattered all over it. I figured she must¡¯ve been pretty old: at least 20. She walked down the sidewalk, getting closer and closer, mumbling to herself. ¡°Hey, Mrs. Beckett!¡± I yelled. She snapped her head for a second, looking a little angry. ¡°Who you calling Mrs.?¡± ¡°Um.¡± I didn¡¯t know what to say. ¡°You?¡± She bounded up the steps to the porch, and gave me a look. ¡°Don¡¯t ever call me Mrs.¡± ¡°Why not?¡± I asked. ¡°Isn¡¯t that what you are?¡± ¡°A Mrs. is two things,¡± she said. ¡°Old and married. Do I look old to you?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°Well I¡¯m not,¡± she said. ¡°And I¡¯m not getting married too soon, either. You got that?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°I get it. What¡¯s that thing in your mouth?¡± I asked. She took it out again and laughed. ¡°This?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a cigar.¡± ¡°No it¡¯s not,¡± I said. ¡°It looks too thin to be a cigar. What is it?¡± She laughed. ¡°You oughta become a journalist, one day.¡± ¡°Why would I?¡± ¡°Because you like questions so much.¡± ¡°Is that a bad thing?¡± ¡°Yes and no,¡± she said. ¡°Mostly no. But a little bit of yes, too.¡± Mom opened the front door and came out onto the porch. She didn¡¯t look too happy. ¡°What are you doing here?¡± she asked, hands on her hips. ¡°Sorry,¡± Beckett said. ¡°I was just passing by, when¨C¡± ¡°What is that in your mouth?¡± ¡°Nothing,¡± Beckett said. She took it out of her mouth and threw it onto the porch floor, stepping hard on it, grinding it into the ground. The ashes spread all over the wood floor. ¡°Don¡¯t spread that all over my porch,¡± she said. ¡°Sorry,¡± Beckett said. ¡°What¡¯s done is done.¡± ¡°Get out,¡± she said. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean to¨C¡± ¡°I just told you to leave.¡± ¡°Right,¡± Beckett said. ¡°Sorry. Geez.¡± She shook her head, jogging down the steps of the house. She walked away. ¡°I don¡¯t want you talking to her,¡± Mom said. ¡°But I want to be her,¡± I said. ¡°What?¡± ¡°I want to¨C¡± ¡°She¡¯s lazy,¡± Mom said. ¡°She does things that kids shouldn¡¯t do.¡± ¡°But she¡¯s not a kid.¡± ¡°She¡¯s young enough,¡± Mom said. ¡°You¡¯re a kid until you have a kid. That¡¯s what my mother always told me. Sit tight. Dinner¡¯s going to be ready soon.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± I said. I rocked in my rocking chair for a little bit more. I don¡¯t think it was for a long time, but like so many things at that age the time seemed to stretch on. Finally, after what had probably only been a couple of minutes, I saw Nick. He didn¡¯t look okay. He brushed his fingers through his hair over and over again, obsessively. His other hand was dancing all over his body, scratching his back one second and his chin the next. When he got close enough, I could see his bloodshot eyes. ¡°Hey,¡± I yelled, calling out to him while he was still on the sidewalk. ¡°What¡¯d the fortune elf say about your future?¡± He didn¡¯t respond. He didn¡¯t yell, ¡°Nothing,¡± or ¡°I¡¯ll tell you in a second.¡± He merely sighed, kept his fingers stroking his hair, and walked towards me. By the time he was on the porch, I knew something was wrong. Really wrong. ¡°Was it bad?¡± I asked. ¡°What¡¯d she say?¡± ¡°It¡¯s not important what she said.¡± ¡°If it¡¯s not important what she said, then why are you so upset?¡± He let out a long, deep sigh. ¡°I¡¯m not upset.¡± ¡°If you¡¯re not upset, then why did you sigh?¡± ¡°I just wanted a breath of fresh air,¡± he said. ¡°That doesn¡¯t make sense,¡± I said. ¡°Doesn¡¯t have to.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not going to die, are you?¡± ¡°What? No.¡± ¡°You look sad, and I figured you¡¯d look sad if you were about to die.¡± He stood there, looking down at me, a sad look in his eyes. ¡°Sure, I¡¯ll die eventually. But the fortune elf said it wouldn¡¯t be for a long, long time.¡± ¡°How long?¡± ¡°A century.¡± ¡°Wow,¡± I said. ¡°A whole century? Won¡¯t you get bored? What can you do for a whole century?¡± ¡°Save the world,¡± he said. He chuckled a bit, walking into the house. ¡°God help us all.¡± --- Author''s Note: That''s the end of Chapter Five! If you don''t feel like waiting for the next chapter, the rest of the story has already been posted on my site. Click here for Chapter Six: https://megapulp.wordpress.com/2015/05/02/1-6/ 1.6 I dreamed. It was a better way of living. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª The house was mine now, with my brother dead and my mother dead, my father never known and not even my dog had surviving long enough to wish me farewell. I rocked in my rocking chair, knowing it wouldn¡¯t be long. Beckett had come to wish me good luck. I appreciated that. I¡¯d quit the newspaper months before, and they¡¯d been nice, too. But it was hard to feel like anything that I did mattered. It was hard to feel like anything mattered then, when my future was so awfully known. It was the details that mattered, in moments like these. The Fortune Elf had painted the broad strokes, so I knew Val and I were going to find Hostem, and I knew we were going to kill him. But I didn¡¯t know what it was going to look like. I didn¡¯t know exactly how we might begin. I almost smiled, watching Val walk down the sidewalk. The Sun hung high in the sky, beating down on him. The image was beautiful, even if it¡¯s meaning wasn¡¯t. ¡°Brother! It¡¯s time,¡± Val yelled, smiling wide. He wasn¡¯t my brother, but I pretended to appreciate the gesture. ¡°Brother,¡± I repeated, quietly. Val Rador may have replaced the prophecy meant for my brother, but that didn¡¯t make him my brother. He was of another family, holding entirely different views on the world. Val rushed up the steps. ¡°You seem upset.¡± ¡°There¡¯s nothing to be upset about,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ve accepted my fate.¡± ¡°Accepted?¡± Val bellowed. ¡°Don¡¯t be that way. Yours is a good life, a true life, a wonderful life! You don¡¯t have to muck about with the paper, anymore. You can join me in the ultimate quest!¡± ¡°It¡¯s not a good thing, Val.¡± ¡°That¡¯s where you¡¯re wrong!¡± Val said. ¡°Ours is a glorious purpose.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a hit,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯re killing the creature that created this world. We¡¯re killing a god.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the beauty of it,¡± Val said. ¡°Unshackling humanity from the tyranny¨C¡± ¡°It¡¯s not tyranny. It¡¯s life.¡± ¡°The same could be said of your fate,¡± he said. ¡°Don¡¯t be so glum. Let¡¯s go.¡± I didn¡¯t get up out of my seat. ¡°What if I didn¡¯t go?¡± He laughed. ¡°What do you mean, didn¡¯t go? You have to go! It¡¯s your future!¡± ¡°It should be my choice,¡± I said. ¡°It is your choice,¡± he said. ¡°Just because we know what you choose doesn¡¯t mean you didn¡¯t choose it.¡± ¡°If it¡¯s my choice, I choose to stay.¡± His face turned from joyous to concerned. ¡°Today is supposed to be a good day.¡± ¡°What you¡¯re doing isn¡¯t right. I won¡¯t be involved.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t be like your brother.¡± ¡°My brother was a good man,¡± I said, emotion boiling from my voice. I don¡¯t know if Val saw how much I loved my brother. If he did, he didn¡¯t care. ¡°Your brother was stupid and selfish,¡± he said. ¡°He killed himself, nearly killed you, and now I have to do the job he was born to do.¡± That made me get up. I spat in Val¡¯s face. Then, I slapped him. ¡°My brother¡¯s twice the man you¡¯ll ever be,¡± I said. ¡°Sure, he couldn¡¯t handle the pressure, but he wanted what was best for the world. He didn¡¯t want to see a god die. He didn¡¯t want me to live in a world¨C¡± Val swung a punch. He knocked a tooth out. I hit the floor hard. ¡°I am your brother, so far as the future is concerned,¡± Val said. ¡°I¡¯ll talk about that fraud you grew up with however I damn well please.¡± My mouth tasted of copper. Blood. I spat red onto the white concrete floor. It dripped from my lips. My head and mouth both hurt, but I made my way up off the ground. Then I swung my fist at Val. Pain shot through my thumb. Felt like it was broken. I¡¯d turned his head an inch to the left, so that he was looking at me through his left eye. He turned his head back, looking me straight in the eyes. ¡°You¡¯re no fighter,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re a thinker, not a fighter.¡± ¡°Guess that means you¡¯re a fighter, but not a thinker.¡± ¡°Come with me,¡± Val said. ¡°That¡¯s the way it has to be. I can¡¯t fulfill my purpose without you.¡± ¡°That¡¯s my hope,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s the point of not going. You can¡¯t go out there and kill a god.¡± ¡°That god is out there killing us,¡± Val said, his voice getting louder, turning into a yell. ¡°Hostem¡¯s trying to kill all of us.¡± ¡°Maybe that¡¯s the way it¡¯s supposed to be,¡± I said. ¡°Maybe the purpose of all life is to¨C¡± Sharp pain. The other side of my jaw, this time. I was on the floor, again. Spat more blood. ¡°I don¡¯t care what that shitbag created the world for,¡± Val yelled. ¡°I don¡¯t give a shit what his purpose was for creating life. We¡¯re creating our own purposes, now.¡± ¡°If that¡¯s true, why do I have to go with you? Why do the elves¨C¡± He kicked me in the stomach. Then he crouched down, looking me in the eyes. ¡°You¡¯ve gotta understand, George. You not coming with me would be the end of the world.¡± I thought back on all the times I¡¯d tried to kill myself. ¡°Maybe that¡¯d be better,¡± I said. ¡°Maybe we were a mistake.¡± Val grabbed me by the hair and slammed my head against the porch floor. ¡°Your nihilism is a disease,¡± Val said. ¡°I want to see you get better, both for your sake and the world. You know what that madman Hostem is doing?¡± ¡°You shouldn¡¯t call him Hostem. That¡¯s disrespectful. He¡¯s our Creator.¡± Val sighed, then wore a smile. ¡°Alright, then. He¡¯s our Creator. But our Creator is trying to bring about the apocalypse, right now. He wants to die.¡± ¡°I do, too,¡± George said. ¡°Look at all the pain I just caused you,¡± Val said. ¡°Did it feel good?¡± ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s what death is,¡± he said. ¡°Pain, misery. Death is anti-life.¡± I lay there for a good long while, feeling dizzy, lightheaded. A few times I almost fell asleep, but Val made sure to shake me so that I stayed awake. Finally he said, ¡°We¡¯ll take you to a doctor. Then you¡¯ll come with me. Right?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s what you want to do,¡± he said. ¡°The elves saw your future that way for a reason.¡± ¡°But my brother¡­¡± ¡°Your brother wanted to be a hero, too,¡± Val said. ¡°I¡¯m sure he tried, but he was afraid. He just didn¡¯t have it in him.¡± I remembered my brother crashing us into a tree. I was so young, then. Maybe Val was right. ¡°Okay,¡± I said, woozy. ¡°I¡¯ll go.¡± ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª ¡°Sam,¡± a loud, angry voice yelled. ¡°Sam, I¡¯m going to need you to wake up now.¡± I did, slowly, begrudgingly. When I opened my eyes I saw the nurse standing there. ¡°This is a delicate time,¡± she said. ¡°It looks like you have a good chance of getting rehabilitated back into the timestream. But you can¡¯t stay with any one memory for too long. If you do, you could get stuck there.¡± ¡°Mhm,¡± I said. ¡°But why did you call me Sam?¡± She gave me a strange look, and I remembered. ¡°What?¡± she asked. ¡°Sorry,¡± I said. ¡°In my dream, I was somebody else.¡± ¡°Not a dream,¡± she said. ¡°Your past.¡± ¡°Is there a difference?¡± My roommate said, ¡°See? That¡¯s a crazy thing to say. I think he really does belong here.¡± ¡°You can go back into the timestream,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m just going to make sure you¡¯re not at any one time period for too long.¡± ¡°I want to call¨C¡± But it was too late. I was dreaming again. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª I drove the car through the afternoon and into the night, my eyes focused on the great road that stretched out before us, stretching from here to the Celestial Wall. ¡°We¡¯re really doing it,¡± Val said. ¡°For the love of everything, we¡¯re really doing it.¡± ¡°Yeah. We are.¡± My tongue felt a little numb. I worried what the doctor must have done. Occasionally I would look over at Val, to take a break from the road¡¯s monotony if nothing else. Looking at him made me feel worse. He looked so giddy, his eyes aglow with something foul, something excited. I wondered if I could ever feel that way. Was it possible for a guy like me to feel like that? Or was there something separating Val and me, something that made him always excited for the future ahead, while it left me feeling a sense of dread? A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. He¡¯d gotten a lot bigger since we¡¯d been kids. Soon as he learned he was replacing my brother in the prophecy, he began to train. He went hunting all the time, and his father found him some of the best teachers the world had ever seen. Maybe that was the difference: he thought he could take on the word, because that¡¯s exactly what he¡¯d been trained to do. ¡°Did you tell your teachers about the prophecy?¡± I asked. ¡°Some of them,¡± he said. ¡°The ones who I knew would understand, and one or two who didn¡¯t, when I was too young to tell the difference.¡± ¡°Did the ones who didn¡¯t ever stop and make you think?¡± I asked. ¡°Don¡¯t try stopping¨C¡± I cut him off, ¡°I¡¯m not. I just want to know if you ever felt the doubts I felt. It¡¯ll help me to know.¡± Silence blanketed the car. The quiet offered a sort of peace, but also a sort of anxiety. I never trusted a man like Val to keep quiet. It meant they¡¯d stopped talking, only to start really thinking. ¡°Yeah,¡± he said. ¡°They made me think.¡± ¡°What¡¯d they say?¡± I asked. ¡°What made you decide to ignore them and charge on?¡± ¡°My Ethics teacher was the worst. Young teacher who read too much for her own good. You know the type. She had bright red hair, and a devilish smile that followed the hardest of ethical questions. Dad sent me to her so that I could learn to weigh my actions, figure out when to kill and when to let live. He continued, ¡°She took her job very seriously. Early on, I told her what I was forced to do, because I figured she¡¯d be able to point me in the right direction. It felt important for her to know the truth.¡± ¡°What¡¯d she say?¡± I asked. ¡°She told me all about deicide, about the pride that it took to kill a god. She argued that once god¡¯s creatures killed their creator, they were left rudderless. They lost all purpose in their lives and got stuck. The planet would fall apart, and all the creatures would die a horrible death.¡± ¡°An apocalypse,¡± I said. ¡°Exactly.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t imagine that didn¡¯t bother you.¡± ¡°It did bother me,¡± he said. ¡°I had nightmares for months. It was all I could think about.¡± ¡°And then?¡± ¡°And then I realized that there were two sorts of apocalypse. I finally understood what an apocalypse could really mean,¡± he said. His speech turned breathless, Holy. ¡°There¡¯s the physical apocalypse, the one where everything gets wiped out. A god dies, and he takes the whole world with him.¡± ¡°Then there¡¯s the other apocalypse, the psychological apocalypse. It¡¯s a revelation, a change from one system to another, the old making way for the new. It doesn¡¯t require the end of all life, or even the end of most life. All it requires is for us to see the world in a new light, to see it in such a different light that the world we¡¯d seen before is effectively eradicated. Killing a god would bring about an apocalypse, but only psychologically. It would mean the end of an old era, and the beginning of a new.¡± ¡°But things would die,¡± I said. ¡°Like your teacher told you, a lot of things would die.¡± ¡°The old making way for the new.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t bother you? All the death?¡± ¡°Death¡¯s just a part of life,¡± Val said. ¡°And anyway, it wouldn¡¯t be so bad to get a look at the Angel of Death, am I right?¡± he let out a huge laugh. Of course, I¡¯d already encountered her at that point in my life. I hadn¡¯t told Val, and I wished it had never happened. Or maybe I wished it had never happened. I loved her, I hated her, I didn¡¯t know how I felt. Didn¡¯t matter. Not really. It had happened, and I was there in the car racing towards the end of the world. Somehow, I began to lose track of the time. The sounds of the night flooded my ears: the sound of tire against asphalt, the sound of owls in the trees which hung by the side of the road. The feeling of the car speeding along and bumping down the road put me in a trance, and it made me feel like I wasn¡¯t anyone at all. I stopped thinking about my past or my future, stopped even thinking about my present. I stopped thinking, letting blind impulse drive the car. It was the best I¡¯d felt in a long while. ¡°You¡¯re going to take a left up here,¡± Val said. And just like that, he broke the spell. Just like that, dreaded words and dreaded thoughts flooded their way back into my stream-of-consciousness. ¡°This lady really lives in the middle of nowhere,¡± I said. ¡°This lady¡¯s a genius,¡± Val said. ¡°She¡¯s the blacksmith who¡¯s going to help me kill Hostem.¡± ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª Stung cheek. I blinked my eyes open and saw the nurse, standing before me again. ¡°Call Beckett,¡± I said. ¡°Beckett Winters.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not¨C¡± ¡°Call her,¡± I growled. ¡°Call¨C¡± I didn¡¯t get to finish the sentence. I was back there, then. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* ¡°5160 steel¡¯s your best bet. It¡¯s all you should ever need,¡± Jules said, her hair tied up in a bun while she grabbed one of the swords in the forge. It glowed bright red, like the heart of a star. She swung the sword around, nearly nicking me in the process. Then she placed the sword under a power hammer. The machine was loud, its big piston working overtime to slam the sword over and over again. The occasional spark flew off the sword while the power hammer pummeled the sword to make it beautiful. *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* ¡°We¡¯re looking to kill a god,¡± Val said. *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* ¡°You might need something a little stronger, then,¡± she said, not missing a beat. ¡°Here, hold this. Move it around so that the sword gets shaped evenly.¡± She looked at me, so I figured she must be talking to me. *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* I took the hilt in my hand. It felt nice. I¡¯d never wielded a weapon before. *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* ¡°I¡¯m sure I can figure something out. A god, you say? Might take me a couple days to find the right material. Cost you a pretty penny, too.¡± *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* ¡°We¡¯ve got plenty,¡± Val said, surely speaking for himself. ¡°Money¡¯s no object.¡± *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* ¡°Money¡¯s always an object, Val,¡± I said. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter how much of it you have.¡± *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* I figured both he and the blacksmith must be looking at me strangely, but I didn¡¯t care. I was enamored with this sword, which held up to the adversity of the power hammer, being shaped by the adversity. *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* ¡°Your friend alright?¡± the blacksmith asked. ¡°He seems a little odd.¡± *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* ¡°Going through a weird time in his life,¡± Val said. ¡°Seasonal depression.¡± He was half-right. *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* ¡°How much for the sword?¡± I asked, watching the power hammer pummel it. *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* ¡°After how much you¡¯ll have to pay for the godkilling sword?¡± the blacksmith said. ¡°I¡¯d feel guilty to charge you more. Consider it a freebie.¡± *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* I smiled. Then I noticed Val Rador, who was smiling at me. *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* *CHUNK* The adventure had truly begun. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª I woke up without help, this time. ¡°I¡¯m telling you, I¡¯ve got no fucking clue who elf ears is,¡± Beckett said. ¡°I won¡¯t have you speaking to me in that disrespectful¨C¡± the nurse began. ¡°You¡¯re the one who called me. So cool it, lady.¡± ¡°I only called per the request of my patient.¡± ¡°Who¡¯s in the loony bin for a reason,¡± Beckett said. ¡°I don¡¯t know her.¡± I was falling back into the past. No. I needed to tell Beckett who I really was. No. Didn¡¯t she see? No, no¡­ --- Author''s Note: That''s the end of Chapter Six! If you don''t feel like waiting for the next chapter, the rest of the story has already been posted on my site. Click here for the first interlude: https://megapulp.wordpress.com/2015/05/02/interlude-1/ First Interlude ¡°You¡¯re early,¡± the old man said, laying on his deathbed, struggling for breath. ¡°Right?¡± ¡°I¡¯m early,¡± The Angel of Death said, her black wings furled. ¡°It¡¯s been a slow day.¡± She leaned against the hospital wall, hating the slow days for how they dragged on, leaving her with nothing to do, no way to feel important. ¡°Don¡¯t suppose you can,¡± he struggled for breath, ¡°make it slower?¡± A smile slipped its way onto the Angel of Death¡¯s lips. At least he was interesting. ¡°You can¡¯t push an old man¡¯s death off for another day?¡± he asked. ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± ¡°But you have,¡± he said. ¡°Once,¡± she said. ¡°The writer guy,¡± he said, his words hanging in the air. ¡°What¡¯s his name. What¡¯s his name?¡± ¡°George,¡± she said. ¡°George Lewis.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± he said. ¡°That wasn¡¯t so long ago.¡± ¡°Nearly forty years.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not so long, for a creature like you.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± she said. ¡°But you¡¯re no George Lewis.¡± ¡°What did he do?¡± ¡°You¡¯re in no shape to do what he did,¡± she said. ¡°Then what am I in the sort of shape to do?¡± She stood there, silent, watching him struggle to survive. The answer to his question was obvious. It would be condescending to say. ¡°Why?¡± he asked. ¡°Why do I have to die?¡± It was a tough question, one she¡¯d had to answer many times, for herself and others. There were all of the cliche phrases to fall back on, the hackneyed bits of folk wisdom that people clung to in the hopes of making themselves feel better. She¡¯d clung to them, once. But in the end, when she was so close to death, they hadn¡¯t been enough. In the end, escaping death only made her confront that question every day, in the guise of this mantle of death. When she was busy, she¡¯d trot out the cliches, the old easy standbys that helped her ignore the reality of her existence. But that was the problem with slow days. She had nothing to do, no reason to drop a cliche and run. She had to confront her nature. ¡°Try answering your own question,¡± she told him, hoping to circumvent the truth. ¡°We all like our own answers, better.¡± He scrunched his face, looking surprised, confused. ¡°I¡¯ve thought a lot about it.¡± ¡°Most do.¡± ¡°I think death is the last call for meaning,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s the moment where you can look back at your life, to ask if it was really worth it. It¡¯s when you can look at yourself and figure out whether you were a good person. We can¡¯t understand the worth of something until its over. The final judgment can¡¯t happen until your life is finally over.¡± He thought she looked like a statue, neutral and unfeeling. ¡°Am I right?¡± he asked. It was the most important question he¡¯d ever asked. Laying there, then, he asked about the meaning of life, hoping to get an answer from a creature who should know the answer. ¡°Do you want an honest answer?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± he said. ¡°No,¡± she said. Her words struck him. ¡°Then why?¡± he asked. ¡°You¡¯re less than the sum of your parts,¡± she said. ¡°Most old things are. I take your soul, then the universe takes the bits of you that aren¡¯t you, anymore. The physical bits of your being get recycled to make something newer, better.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± his voice trailed off. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said. ¡°There may be a Heaven, at least.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t know?¡± he asked. She shrugged her shoulders. It didn¡¯t take long before he cried. His face twisted, and he burst into tears. She stood there for a minute, watching the old man cry, wishing the end would come so he didn¡¯t have to feel so sad. Eventually, when it was near, she walked up to him. She placed her pale white hand on his chest. ¡°Shhh,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m old, too. I understand your pain.¡± His breathing stopped. She closed his eyes. She placed her hand on either side of his mouth, then opened his jaw. She slipped her hand into his jaw, taking out a thin, translucent sheet. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª The Hyalu struggled, carrying the elf over her shoulder. The Hyalu¡¯s heart floated right next to her, outside of her, following her wherever she went. She opened the bathroom door and walked in, nearly slipping on the tile floor. She steadied herself, took a deep breath, and walked towards the bathtub. She didn¡¯t need to be careful, throwing the elf into the bathtub. His head cracked against the porcelain tub, but he was dead anyway. She slipped her hand into her pocket, and brought out a pouch of dust. She sprinkled the dust on the elf¡¯s corpse. The corpse sizzled, skin boiling up, disintegrating before the witch¡¯s eyes. She smiled. A pillar of light materialized in the room. The Hyalu¡¯s eyes widened. The hairs stood up on her skin, drawn towards the electrifying light. The Angel of Death walked out of the pillar of light. ¡°You¡¯re early,¡± the Hyalu said. ¡°You murderous gnat,¡± the Angel of Death said, grabbing the Hyalu by the throat and throwing her against a wall. ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for you.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t!¡± the Hyalu yelled. ¡°You and I are the same! We work for death! Please. Please, oh god.¡± She looked near the point of tears. The Angel of Death craned her neck, placing her lips within an inch of the Hyalu¡¯s ear. ¡°I take souls to restore balance. You take lives and pervert the elements.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not some impartial guardian,¡± the Hyalu spat. ¡°You¡¯ve upset the balance, with¨C¡± The Angel of Death took the Hyalu, cracking her head against the tub. The Hyalu bled, unmoving. She placed her hand in the Hyalu¡¯s mouth, taking out the thin, translucent sheet. She dropped it on the bathroom floor. She sighed, watching the elf¡¯s flesh boil. The little patches of skin bubbled up, popping and sizzling and disintegrating before her eyes. She moved to wipe the sweat off her brow, only to find that she wasn¡¯t sweating. After all these years, she still hadn¡¯t gotten used to that. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª The newsvendor nearly hacked up her lungs, looking for her handkerchief. She checked her pants pocket and breast pocket, but found nothing. She wiped her brow, wondering if she could leave her newsstand for a couple minutes, to find some sort of napkin. A pale white hand offered a handkerchief. The newsvendor nodded in appreciation, grabbing it. That¡¯s when she noticed the stranger¡¯s black wings. ¡°Oh, jeez,¡± she said, rubbing the handkerchief against her nose. ¡°I knew this wasn¡¯t good, but I never woulda thought¨C¡± ¡°The sickness won¡¯t kill you,¡± the Angel of Death said. ¡°Then why¡­¡± The newsvendor didn¡¯t know what else to say. ¡°Accident,¡± she said. ¡°Car.¡± The newsvendor nodded her head. ¡°Knew it was coming someday.¡± ¡°Anyone you¡¯d care to call?¡± The newsvendor shrugged, chuckling. ¡°Never had a good love life. No family to leave behind. So I guess I¡¯m lucky, in that way.¡± The Angel of Death thought it sad. ¡°I guess you¡¯re lucky.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t think it was supposed to be like this.¡± ¡°Like this?¡± The Angel of Death asked. ¡°Thought you only came after I died.¡± ¡°Usually, but it¡¯s a slow day.¡± ¡°Slow day,¡± the newsvendor said, chewing over the words. ¡°Don¡¯t suppose I can offer you a paper?¡± She let out a bit of a chuckle. ¡°See if we can¡¯t arrange a deal?¡± The Angel of Death looked at all the choices, which filled the news vendor¡¯s cart. Here there was news from all over the world. She didn¡¯t know which one she wanted. ¡°How will I know?¡± the newsvendor asked. ¡°Will I have to cross the street?¡± ¡°You¡¯ll know,¡± the Angel of Death said. She watched the newsvendor wear a puzzled look on her face. She watched as that puzzled look turned to understanding. ¡°I visited my friend across the street,¡± the newsvendor said, nodding at the clothing store across the way. ¡°We don¡¯t know each other all that well, but she buys my paper, sometimes. I decided to give her an issue for free.¡± She looked at the handkerchief in her hand. ¡°That¡¯s where I left my handkerchief.¡± The Angel of Death didn¡¯t react. The newsvendor knew what was coming. There was no good confirming or denying. ¡°I don¡¯t need it anymore,¡± the vendor said. ¡°I¡¯ve got yours.¡± The handkerchief disappeared in her hands. She wondered if it had ever been there. She lifted her gaze, getting ready to cross the street. ¡°I guess this is it, then.¡± She got out of the news cart, stepping foot on the sidewalk. Without looking, she walked onto the street. She died, leaving a bloodied body and a bloodied soul. The Angel of Death walked onto the street, reaching into the newsvendor¡¯s mouth and taking her soul. People screamed, and a guilty driver sped away. The Angel of Death paid them no mind. Instead, she walked over to the newsvendor¡¯s stand, wondering which newspaper she wanted. She decided on the local one, flipping to the Obituaries. She didn¡¯t like what she saw. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª The Angel of Death glowered, wings flapping as her feet touched the sidewalk. Val Rador¡¯s funeral was today. Val Rador was not dead. Why? She closed her black feathery wings, so that she might walk through the temple doors. She¡¯d been here only two days ago, and somehow it had called her back. For some reason, a funeral was being held for a living man. She threw the temple doors open, striding into the aisle and making her way to the altar. On the altar lay a casket. At the pulpit spoke a balding, sad man: ¡°¨Cador was¡­ He was¨C¡± The man didn¡¯t continue speaking. He didn¡¯t see the need to, since all eyes turned towards the Angel of Death, marvelling at her flowing red hair and her great black wings. She unfurled the wings, letting them spread high and wide, above the heads of everyone who¡¯d come to pay their respects to Val Rador. Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. The sad balding man pulled at his collar, mumbling. ¡°It¡¯s a little late to get the soul, isn¡¯t it, Angel?¡± ¡°You snivelling, incompetent worm,¡± the Angel of Death roared, her loud baritone voice threatening to break the temple¡¯s windows. ¡°That man isn¡¯t dead.¡± Caked in sweat, the sad balding man continued. ¡°Well, uh. You are the expert, Angel. But I¡¯d like to point out that he seemed pretty dead the last we¨C uh, saw of him.¡± She didn¡¯t deign him worthy of her words. Instead, she flapped her wings and flew to the altar. Looking with her divine eyes, she saw no death in the casket. But she saw no life, either. She lowered herself. As soon as her feet touched the floor, her accusations were proven. *CRACK* A powerful white fist broke through the coffin, smashing through wood. *CRACK* The second hand followed. Curious, she stood there, watching the creature rip through the wooden box. Sufficiently free, it rolled off the altar and onto the temple floor. It got up, only to see her smirking. She examined it while it got up. It certainly looked like Val Rador, if you ignored the gun wounds. And even the gun wounds looked real. But something appeared to be off: perhaps the blood was a little too red. Or maybe the wound to the head looked oddly shallow. ¡°You have disturbed the timeline,¡± the creature said. ¡°Prepare to die.¡± ¡°Die? You want me to die?¡± she said. ¡°You are truly misinformed.¡± Two lasers shot out of the thing¡¯s eyes, ripping right through one of her wings. It was only two small holes, but they hurt like hell. It was perhaps the first time the Angel of Death had ever felt pain. At least, it was the first time she had felt pain in this incarnation. She screamed. And in her scream, there was anger. In her anger there was violence. ¡°What the fuck are you?¡± she yelled. She slammed her foot against his crotch. He didn¡¯t flinch. He threw a punch at her face. It landed, but she didn¡¯t seem to notice. ¡°Should have stuck to the lasers, you bastard,¡± she said, grabbing him by the shoulder. He was heavy, but she was divine. She picked him up and hurled him through the stained glass window. *CRASH* A host of colors lit up the sky, sparkling in the light of day. Then, they rained down on the creature¡¯s fallen form. At this point people began to scream, but the Angel of Death paid them no mind. They rushed out the temple; she didn¡¯t notice. Instead, she flew towards him. The pain in her wing was searing, nearly all-consuming. She bit her lip, working through the pain. She¡¯d seen so many people endure pain, in the end. She¡¯d seen so many people fight to the end. How could she do differently here, now? The beast with Val Rador¡¯s face got up. She swooped down towards him, using the momentum of gravity to give her punch some extra force. The beast fell down again. While it was down, she punched it. She punched it again. And again. And again. Rage lit up her face. How could this thing take the face of a man she¡¯d loved? How could it pervert death, make such a mockery of it? Who out there could summon a power that rivalled her own? Even after the pummeling, the thing¡¯s eyes were open. ¡°You have¡­¡± the creature began, but struggled to continue. ¡°Disturbed¡­¡± he said, struggling to form the words. ¡°The timeline.¡± She looked out at the temple¡¯s backyard, sectioned off from the street by a nice picket fence. She noticed the big thick oak tree, standing there beside her. She strode towards it. Digging her strong but slender fingers into the oak¡¯s bark, she pulled. The roots struggled against her, fighting to keep the oak in the ground. They lost. The scenario looked absurd, since the tree she was wielding was about four times her size. But once she¡¯d uprooted it, she pulled it along, moving back towards the creature with Val Rador¡¯s face. ¡°Who are you?¡± she asked. ¡°You¡­¡± the thing began. ¡°Wrong answer,¡± she said, hoisting the tree above her head. She whacked his body with it, the tree landing on its side so that the branches broke against the picket fence, some ten feet away. ¡°Who sent you here?¡± she asked. ¡°Have disturbed¡­¡± the thing continued. She grabbed the head by its ears, ripping it off the rest of its body. ¡°The timeline,¡± it finished. She raised the head so that their eyes were at the same level. It blinked, unnaturally. Wires dangled from its neck. ¡°More things on Heaven and Earth,¡± she mumbled. ¡°This requires one hell of an explanation.¡± ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª Lusu Rador had sat in her living room, watching George walk back into Val Rador¡¯s life. She¡¯d sat in the temple, watching her husband punch his way out of his own damn coffin. And she¡¯d sat in the police station, watching a blue man with see-through bones wipe people¡¯s memory of the whole event. Problem was, her own magic flew through her veins. Which meant she still knew. She remembered. Half a dozen books lay sprawled on the living room table. None of them appealed to her. None of them meant anything. Why had she even married that man in the first place? Most of the answers were all too simple: he was wealthy, he was handsome, he was a hero. There was another reason, though. A reason perhaps even more important: he¡¯d represented something different. A change her life had so desperately needed. And hadn¡¯t that been what she¡¯d wanted, when she was young? Hadn¡¯t that been her main desire? Yes, but there¡¯d been more than even that. How could you distill one person¡¯s attraction down to another? How could you explain it without spending days: the way the loved made the lover feel, the things the loved reminded the lover of, the chemical attractions and the annoying quirks that somehow made them all the more appealing? No, to state all the reasons Lusu loved Val would be impossible. But now? What could she possibly¨C A knock on the door. She got off the sofa to answer it. A small bullet hole still marred the door, left over from George¡¯s outburst only a few days ago. She opened the door and found the Angel of Death standing there. At least, Lusu thought it was the Angel of Death. The thing was, this creature looked so different. The black wings of before were now metallic, her right eye now bionic. Yesterday the Angel of Death had been there when Val broke out of his coffin. Now, here, today? ¡°I suppose a lot can happen, in a day,¡± Lusu said. The Angel of Death cocked her head back, letting out a great big laugh. ¡°A day since the funeral?¡± She pushed past Lusu, walking through the vestibule and into the living room. ¡°Val¡¯s not dead.¡± ¡°Obviously I¡¯m aware of that,¡± the Angel of Death said. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°That¡¯s a complicated question.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not a fool,¡± Lusu said. ¡°I can handle a complicated answer.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll get it, but now¡¯s not the time.¡± ¡°A man with see-through bones made everyone forget about the incident at the church,¡± Lusu said. ¡°Do you know him?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Who is he?¡± ¡°That,¡± the Angel of Death said, ¡°is also a complicated question.¡± ¡°I demand answers,¡± Lusu said. ¡°Ha. As if you can demand anything from me.¡± ¡°Why are you here?¡± Lusu asked. ¡°Because I need to be.¡± ¡°I¡¯m hoping this isn¡¯t a professional visit,¡± Lusu said. ¡°If it is, you should know that I haven¡¯t died yet.¡± The Angel of Death laughed again. ¡°You¡¯re funny. Pity it hasn¡¯t done much for you.¡± She sprawled across the white sofa. Lusu chose not to sit in the chair. ¡°What are you doing here?¡± ¡°You¡¯re needed.¡± ¡°Needed?¡± ¡°Val¡¯s trying to bring about the apocalypse.¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°You¡¯re going to have to stop him,¡± The Angel of Death said. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± ¡°You will,¡± The Angel of Death said. ¡°I¨C¡± ¡°I¡¯m familiar with the Death Cult.¡± ¡°That makes sense.¡± ¡°I¡¯m familiar with your involvement in the Death Cult.¡± ¡°I¡¯m still not surprised,¡± Lusu said. ¡°You have to kill Val.¡± ¡°I left the Death Cult a long time ago.¡± The Angel of Death couldn¡¯t help but laugh again. ¡°You left the Death Cult to marry a killer. God, you¡¯re funny. Too funny.¡± Lusu stood there, arms crossed, unsure of what to do. ¡°Val wants to destroy the world,¡± the Angel of Death said. ¡°He wants to see what¡¯s on the other side of that damn wall.¡± ¡°Which will destroy the world,¡± The Angel of Death said. ¡°You have to stop him.¡± ¡°Why can¡¯t you?¡± ¡°His sword,¡± The Angel of Death. ¡°It kills gods.¡± ¡°Kills Hyalu, too.¡± ¡°If anyone can stop Val, it¡¯s you and George.¡± Lusu looked at the Angel of Death, incredulous. ¡°You can¡¯t be serious.¡± ¡°George is in a mental hospital right now, wearing the body of an elf,¡± The Angel of Death said. ¡°You have to get him.¡± ¡°There¡¯s no¨C¡± ¡°I¡¯m not asking,¡± The Angel of Death said. ¡°Either you get him out of that hospital, or I rip your soul out of your body.¡± She put on a bit of a smile. ¡°What¡¯s it going to be?¡± --- Author''s Note: That''s the end of the First Interlude! If you don''t feel like waiting for the next chapter, the rest of the story has already been posted on my site. Click here for Chapter 2.1: https://megapulp.wordpress.com/2015/05/02/2-1/ 2.1 Darkness. ¡°I know her,¡± a voice said. Her. Her. I guess that was me, now. Another voice: ¡°I¡¯m sorry, ma¡¯am, but Sam is going to have to stay here. She¡¯s sensitive, disconnected from time.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± the first voice said. ¡°I understand.¡± I realized it was the Hyalu¡¯s voice. I realized it was Lusu. Did she know Sam? ¡°Could I have a moment with her?¡± ¡°Certainly,¡± the other voice said. It was frigid ¡ª the nurse¡¯s. ¡°Just the two of us?¡± Lusu asked. A pause. A silence. ¡°I haven¡¯t seen her in an awfully long time,¡± Lusu said. ¡°I like to think I¡¯d remind her of her past.¡± Another pause ¡ª this one shorter. ¡°Alright,¡± the nurse said. ¡°Five minutes.¡± ¡°That¡¯s all I need.¡± ¡°Sam,¡± the nurse said, patting me on the cheek. ¡°I need you to¨C¡± I opened my eyes. Tilted my head so I could look at Lusu. ¡°Friend,¡± I said. She smiled back. ¡°Old friend,¡± she said. The nurse¡¯s smile finally looked genuine. ¡°I¡¯ll let you two catch up.¡± The nurse exited the room. The Hyalu glanced over at my roommate, then leaned over, so that her mouth was just an inch away from my ear. ¡°I know who you are,¡± she whispered. ¡°Who am I?¡± ¡°George Royce, reporter, an old friend of Val¡¯s that became something stranger.¡± ¡°I guess you¡¯re right,¡± I whispered. ¡°Get up. We¡¯re leaving through the window.¡± ¡°Window locks from the outside,¡± I said. *click* I heard the window unlock. ¡°You¡¯re a cultist,¡± I said. ¡°Among other things,¡± she replied. ¡°Get up. We¡¯re leaving through the window. I got out of bed and walked towards my roommate. ¡°Hey, buddy. I¡¯ve got a question to ask you.¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± he said. ¡°If I were to try and escape, would you call someone to try and stop me?¡± The elf looked up at me. ¡°I just want what¡¯s best for people. But you¡¯re disconnected from the time stream, so yeah I¨C¡± I punched him in the jaw as hard as I could. Knocked him out. ¡°That was aggressive,¡± Lusu said, opening the window. ¡°We do what we have to.¡± ¡°And more, it would seem.¡± As if I didn¡¯t hate myself enough, now I had to deal with Lusu. She exited through the window; I followed. By the time we¡¯d both left, I heard the nurse entering the room. ¡°Hey!¡± she yelled. ¡°Get back here!¡± Lusu and I ran as fast as we could. We ran through the empty field, chasing freedom. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª Lusu drove the car while I sat in the passenger¡¯s seat. It all felt so wrong: leaving town without saying goodbye, leaving town to track down an old friend who wasn¡¯t much of a friend anymore. Worst of all was this body, which felt so damn wrong. ¡°You¡¯re a cultist,¡± I told Lusu. ¡°You¡¯re really having a hard time with that one.¡± ¡°Guess so,¡± I said. ¡°I like to think of myself as an enlightened,¡± I stopped myself from saying man, ¡°creature. But the Death Cult has a reputation.¡± ¡°They¡¯re not so bad in some ways,¡± she said. ¡°Terrible in others, I guess.¡± ¡°They say you guys pervert the elements.¡± ¡°You use magic to light your cigarette, no?¡± ¡°Sure I do. But that¡¯s different. Creating a spark is different than fighting death.¡± ¡°Death is the greatest tyranny of the world,¡± Lusu said. ¡°Thinks it can and should take anything it wants.¡± ¡°You¡¯re calling death entitled?¡± ¡°In so many words,¡± Lusu said. ¡°Though really I try not to think about it too much, these days. I left the cult a long time ago.¡± ¡°Did Val know?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Two heart beats, then a subject change. ¡°Val¡¯s going to destroy the world.¡± ¡°Val¡¯s dead.¡± ¡°No, he¡¯s not,¡± Lusu said. ¡°I¡­ I thought I shot him.¡± ¡°He survived,¡± Lusu said. ¡°How?¡± ¡°He just did,¡± Lusu said. ¡°He survived, and now he¡¯s going to destroy the world.¡± ¡°Probably,¡± I said, burying my face in the palm of my hand. ¡°Killing Stellavia, breaking through the Celestial Wall.¡± He survived. The fucker survived. Worst of all, I was glad he survived. The road we were on was bordered on both sides by tall trees. ¡°What do you care whether he breaks through the Wall?¡± I asked. ¡°When I was in there, looking to find out who killed Stellavia, you didn¡¯t say anything. Said I was a nobody, which I probably am. But you defended your husband. Why the change of heart?¡± ¡°When you love someone, it can be hard to admit they¡¯re wrong,¡± Lusu said. ¡°Then they leave, and you find yourself thinking about them. That¡¯s when all their flaws are laid bare.¡± ¡°Val had a helluva lot of flaws,¡± I said. ¡°He had some good, too,¡± Lusu said. ¡°He just didn¡¯t know how to use it.¡± I stopped talking. Didn¡¯t see the point. This all just seemed so wrong. What was that blue big creature that had managed to give me a new body? Was it really a god? How could Beckett have painted that picture of Stellavia¡¯s death? Why did Val even want to get past that damn Celestial Wall? All too many questions. All too few answers. ¡°Val¡¯s got an unstoppable sword,¡± she said. ¡°We need something just as strong. Any idea where we could get it?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ve got an idea.¡± ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª The closer I got, the less I believed it. Forty years ago, Jewell¡¯s Damned had been a small, three-person smithy: Jewell and two other guys. The town was small, so there just wasn¡¯t that much business to be found. Now, though, things were different. Road signs pointed us in Jewell¡¯s Damned some thirty miles away. When we got there, the parking lot was packed with at least fifty cars. Lusu parked. We got out of the car and walked towards the smithy. ¡°This place has changed,¡± I said, noting that there was an even bigger building at the other end of the parking lot. It looked like an inn. ¡°Forty years¡¯ll do that,¡± Lusu said. ¡°You know, you¡¯re a lot more interesting when Val isn¡¯t around. Bolder.¡± She took in a deep breath of air, then sighed. ¡°You¡¯re not the first person to tell me that.¡± ¡°You still miss him?¡± ¡°I know I shouldn¡¯t,¡± she said, ¡°but there¡¯s a hole there. You invest so much in a person. Memories, thoughts, emotions¡­¡± she drifted off. ¡°Then, suddenly, it doesn¡¯t mean so much at all.¡± She nodded her head, looking solemn. The smithy itself didn¡¯t look so different. Same old concrete building, though there was a lot of graffiti scrawled across it. When I got close, I didn¡¯t enter. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Instead, I took a look at the graffiti. Truth was, a lot of it depicted Val. In the pictures, he almost always wielded the Godkiller and he was often shirtless. One tasteless but beautifully drawn piece actually showed him in the middle of severing Hostem¡¯s head. Another showed him fucking the Angel of Death. Her wings were spread wide. She faced the viewer, laying on her back with her head tilted up. We saw Val¡¯s bare back. He pleasured her with his tongue. A chill ran down my spine. It gave me the creeps to see how close to reality the artist had gotten. He couldn¡¯t have known though, right? Had to be an urban legend ¡ª nothing more. Well, it was both an urban legend and the truth. But I hoped the one mystified the other, if only because I still felt something for Val, too. A part of me wished he could have just led a normal life. Any hope for that was long, long gone, of course. The first thing that hit me when entering the smithy was that of the power hammer. Shortly after I recognized the belt sander, whirring. A big lady with an even bigger voice shut down the belt sander, then turned to look at us. ¡°Can I help you two with something?¡± I gazed into those safety goggles of hers. Those always unsettled me: you could never see a person¡¯s eyes. Just darkness. I began to say something, only to realize my voice was getting drowned out by the machines. I started again, moving closer as I yelled, ¡°We¡¯re looking for a weapon.¡± ¡°You came to the right place,¡± she said. Made yelling look so natural. ¡°What kind of weapon?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what kind,¡± I said. ¡°Something that can beat the Godkiller.¡± Her laugh boomed. ¡°Don¡¯t waste my time.¡± I slipped my hand into my pocket, taking out my Elf Guard badge. It was real, which was odd. ¡°Don¡¯t waste mine,¡± I said. ¡°Blake Reiner¡­¡± I paused for a moment. Almost called him Val. But she couldn¡¯t know that I knew that. ¡°Blake Reiner¡¯s a wanted man. It¡¯s my job to catch him.¡± ¡°Get him in his sleep,¡± she said. ¡°You can¡¯t stop the Godkiller. Blade¡¯s too tough to be broken. And it¡¯s magic. Nothing can get past it. No, I¡¯m sorry. I can¡¯t help you.¡± ¡°Pity.¡± I sighed, taking out a pack of cigarettes. I looked at Lusu. ¡°You want one?¡± She shook her head no. I looked at the big lady. ¡°You?¡± ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°Fiat lux.¡± I snapped my fingers so that a stray spark flew from my fingers and onto my cigarette. I took in a deep breath of smoke. I exhaled. ¡°We¡¯re going to be staying at the inn for for the night. Let me know if you can think of anything, alright?¡± ¡°Nothing to think of,¡± the lady said. I nodded my head. Lusu and I walked out the door. ¡°What now?¡± I asked Lusu. As the sound of machinery grew dull, I heard the sound of two swords banging against each other, ringing like misshapen bells. There was also the faint sound of music. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± she said. ¡°Somehow, I¡¯d gotten the impression you knew everything.¡± ¡°Oh really?¡± she asked. ¡°You knew where to find me.¡± ¡°Mhm.¡± ¡°We can¡¯t fight him without a weapon.¡± ¡°I know,¡± she said. ¡°You know? There we are. Back on familiar territory.¡± We turned silent. It took about five minutes to walk to the inn. When we got close enough, I could see the source of the ringing: two boys, fighting in the moonlight. Lusu and I passed them by. I sighed, opening the door for Lusu. ¡°You don¡¯t have to do that, anymore,¡± Lusu yelled in my ear. ¡°Do what?¡± I asked. ¡°Hold the door open for ladies,¡± she said. ¡°Might make people ask questions.¡± The music was really loud, once we got inside. The band was five people: a saxophonist, two guitarists, a drummer and a singer. They were a prog rock band, assaulting the bar with strange melodies and even stranger lyrics. The saxophonist was awe-inspiring, fingers dancing up and down his instrument, the loud squawking making me feel better than I had any right to. One man sang, groping the mic and whispering sweet sibilance into it: ¡°King and Queen, living in green, / clouds of musk and mud and despair. / King and Queen, living in green, / killing each other, again and again.¡± The whole room vibrated with these thoughts, bass guitar shaking the bones, drummer trying desperately to keep the time. Drum, drum, cymbal. Drum, drum, cymbal, cymbal. ¡°King and Queen, living in green, / looking for a better life. King and Queen, living in green, / hoping to die so they don¡¯t have to live.¡± Drum, drum, cymbal. Drum, drum, cymbal, cymbal. The bass guitar was wild, an image of an exploding star obscured by strings and the guitarist¡¯s hand. On the drum there were words, which I figured to be the band¡¯s name, ¡°Deus ex Apocalypsis¡±. ¡°King and Queen, living in green, / hands around their throats and hearts torn from their sleeves. / King and Queen, living in green, / got no reason to die. Then again, they ain¡¯t got no reason to live, either.¡± Lusu leaned in and said, ¡°I¡¯m going to try and get us a room.¡± ¡°Alright,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ll scope the bar out.¡± Drinking. That was one of the few things I¡¯d done well in life, right? Hard to screw that one up. I sat down next to a tall, broad shouldered black man. I recognized him as The Hero, from the way Beckett had described him and the pictures I¡¯d seen. Still, Beckett hadn¡¯t even been able to find much about him that was interesting. The man was almost less intriguing than the sword. Just by looking at the scabbard, I could tell it was a thick thing. The bartender walked up to me, eyepatch over her left eye. ¡°What can I get you?¡± I noted that The Hero was drinking beer. ¡°Beer, I don¡¯t care what kind.¡± She looked at me for a moment. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to get you, then.¡± ¡°The cheapest kind,¡± I said. The bartender nodded her head and walked towards the beers. The Hero laughed. ¡°Not exactly a big spender, eh?¡± ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter, so long as it gets me drunk.¡± The Hero nodded his head, taking a sip of his. ¡°Bad day?¡± ¡°Interesting,¡± I said. --- Author''s Note: That''s the end of Chapter 2.1! If you don''t feel like waiting for the next chapter, the rest of the story has already been posted on my site. Click here for Chapter 2.2: https://megapulp.wordpress.com/2015/05/02/2-2/ 2.2 ¡°How¡¯d you get the sword?¡± ¡°This thing?¡± The Hero asked, pointing at the sword hanging by his side. The two of us sat at the bar, having drinks. Dumb-ass, I thought. Out loud I said, ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Got it from Jewel,¡± The Hero said. ¡°Not quite as good as the one her mother made me, but it does most jobs well enough.¡± ¡°Her mother?¡± ¡°Yeah, Jewell¡¯s mother. Jewell Senior. She ran the shop ¡ª oh, I don¡¯t know how long ago. A couple decades, maybe. And to a little thing like you, what¡¯s a couple decades?¡± ¡°Not much, I guess.¡± It felt so strange. I was an elf, now. People treated me like a fucking elf. ¡°You guess? The elf that guesses,¡± The Hero asked. He let out a bomb of a laugh, which he only interrupted in order to guzzle down some more beer. The bartender set my drink down. ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, but she¡¯d already walked away. I looked at The Hero. ¡°You don¡¯t think Jewell is as good as her mother?¡± He shrugged his shoulders. ¡°I¡¯m not looking to start anything.¡± I leaned in a little bit. ¡°I¡¯ve been wondering something.¡± The Hero smirked. It was the loose sort of smirk that only a drunk person could make. ¡°You¡¯re wondering if I¡¯m The Hero?¡± Truth was, I knew he was The Hero. I¡¯d heard Beckett describe him so many times, there was no way I wouldn¡¯t be able to recognize him. But sometimes it was better for people to think you stupid. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯d heard about you, but I wasn¡¯t sure, to be honest.¡± ¡°It¡¯s me,¡± he said. He leaned over a bit, smiling wide. ¡°I¡¯m The Hero. It¡¯s nice, in a lot of ways. Having people recognize you, I mean. Makes me feel important. Of course, I am important, but sometimes I can forget that. We all forget how important we are.¡± ¡°You¡¯re important here?¡± I asked. ¡°I¡¯m important everywhere,¡± he said. ¡°Here¡¯s just where I like to hang out. A place to drink, a place to sleep, a place to fight, a place to fuck.¡± ¡°A place to fight?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± he said. ¡°We have fights outside in the parking lot all the time. New kid gets a weapon, we¡¯ll ask if he wants to try it out.¡± ¡°And if he doesn¡¯t?¡± ¡°He doesn¡¯t have to,¡± The Hero said, looking at me like I was crazy. ¡°What¡¯s wrong with you? Why you have to ask so many questions?¡± ¡°Nature of the job, I guess.¡± Realizing what I¡¯d said, I tried to recover. ¡°Elf Guard.¡± The Hero laughed again. At this point it seemed like the laugh came out more due to reflex, than actual enjoyment. He put his hands in the air. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, Officer. Am I in trouble?¡± ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°Not with me, anyway.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll have you know I¡¯ve been a law-abiding citizen for¡­¡± he paused. ¡°Well, it¡¯s been a long fucking time. The number doesn¡¯t matter.¡± ¡°Was it worth it?¡± I asked. ¡°What?¡± ¡°Following the law.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t have much of a choice,¡± he said. ¡°Not with so much attention being put on me. Hell, this Blake Reiner kid. He had it lucky. Played the part of a hero, then got to go home and keep his anonymity. Ha. No, I wasn¡¯t so lucky. I saved the world ¡ª fought the War to End All Wars. That is, the war of gods against men. But what good did that do me? Personally, I mean. Oh, sure. I got a reputation. But every punk from here to the Celestial Wall wanted to beat the crap out of me, just to prove that he could. Heck, I didn¡¯t even want to fight when I was young. But those damn Elf Ladies ¡ª no offense.¡± ¡°None taken,¡± I said. ¡°Those damn Elf Ladies,¡± he said, barely registering my presence at this point. ¡°They said I had to be The Hero. So I was. But they didn¡¯t say how much I¡¯d wish to do other things, afterward. Fuck, I mean. If that bitch Beckett Winters hadn¡¯t been so fucking honest, maybe I could¡¯ve lived a real life, you know?¡± He paused for a moment, looking at me, expecting me to say something. I didn¡¯t want to argue for Beckett here and now. But I wasn¡¯t going to argue against her, either. He continued, ¡°There was no way that had to happen. She had the story of her fucking lifetime ¡ª none of that alien shit. So I had to camp out here, forever. Hoped people would forget about me, and in a lot of ways they did. But not enough, and too late anyways. I¡¯m old now, you know? Not by your standards, but I¡¯m old. And there¡¯s no going back. No becoming who I really wanted to be.¡± ¡°Who¡¯d you want to be?¡± He laughed, chewing his lip and looking away from me. ¡°A tailor. I know it¡¯s kind of gay, but I¡¯m not, you know. It¡¯s just that clothes are so important. They say a lot about a guy. Or a lady, too, I guess. That¡¯s a nice three-piece suit, by the way.¡± ¡°Thanks,¡± I said, noticing his leather jacket and torn jeans. ¡°Mind if I ask what your outfit says about you?¡± He looked down. ¡°Good question. Good question. You ain¡¯t so bad, you know that? What this outfit is¡­ What I¡¯m trying to say. I don¡¯t know. Nothing, at this point. My life¡¯s so far gone. I gave up so long ago. Kind of like the cow this leather came from. I¡¯m dead, but somehow still here.¡± ¡°Why here?¡± I asked. ¡°Everyone here¡¯s looking for a fight, anyway. Everyone¡¯s got weaponry, you know? Someone wants to start something with me, they also gotta contend with everyone else. It¡¯s protection, really. Comfort, too, I guess. And of course, the drinking¡¯s not bad.¡± He swigged it, then laughed, looking into his empty mug. ¡°No, it¡¯s not bad at all.¡± I looked at my untouched beer and took a sip. ¡°Not a fan?¡± he asked. ¡°Not really,¡± I said. ¡°If I¡¯m going to drink piss, might as well just drink my own. That way it¡¯s free, at least.¡± He roared with laughter. ¡°You¡¯re funny. You¡¯re funny. What the fuck you sitting around here for, anyway? You looking to fight someone? You¡¯re not looking to fight me, are you?¡± ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°Looking for a weapon.¡± ¡°Wrong building,¡± he said, turning around and pointing in the direction of the smithy. ¡°Already been,¡± I said. ¡°Jewell said she couldn¡¯t help me.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t get the weapon there, you can¡¯t get it anywhere,¡± The Hero said. ¡°What the fuck you looking for, anyway?¡± ¡°Blake Reiner,¡± I said. The Hero snapped. ¡°Leave the kid alone. Trust me. He¡¯s done enough for this world.¡± ¡°Too much, perhaps,¡± I said. ¡°He wants to get past the Celestial Wall.¡± The Hero looked at me, incredulous. He caught the eye of the bartender and tapped his finger on the marble bar top. ¡°You¡¯re crazy,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m Elf Guard,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯m here. You don¡¯t have to believe me if you don¡¯t want to, but I¡¯m not doing it for the thrills. Really, I wish I wasn¡¯t doing it at all. But I am, I¡¯m here, and I need a weapon that can take down The Godkiller.¡± ¡°Impossible,¡± he said. But there was something odd in his eyes when I mentioned the Godkiller. A small change in his voice. ¡°You¡¯re probably right,¡± I said. Took another sip of beer. Figured it might be a good idea to press the issue. ¡°But there has to be something in the world that could destroy it. Nothing¡¯s invincible. Everything can be destroyed.¡± ¡°Maybe,¡± The Hero said. The one-eyed bartender set a new mug down on the table. Without even looking, The Hero grabbed it and took a gulp. ¡°I think you know how to break the Godkiller,¡± I said. ¡°Ballsy,¡± The Hero said. ¡°I can appreciate a lady with balls.¡± He scratched his chin. Looked at the bartender, then leaned in a bit. ¡°You know, we talk about you at the bar sometimes.¡± ¡°I only just got here.¡± ¡°Elf Lady,¡± he said, and that was all too good of an explanation. ¡°Came here once. Said someone like you was gonna come along. Didn¡¯t say when or where or what you¡¯d look like. But you¡¯d want to break the Godkiller.¡± ¡°I do. ¡°Gonna have a shitty time doing it.¡± ¡°What¡¯s that mean?¡± The Hero leaned in even closer and began to whisper. ¡°That Elf Lady came here a long time ago ¡ª ten years, maybe,¡± he said. ¡°Entered the smithy wielding a gun. The way the guy told it to me, it was around noon. She came in there, wielding the gun, and there were about three people there: two guys, and Jewell. Now, Jewell was probably crapping her pants, but she didn¡¯t show it. No, she looked the Elf Lady right in the eyes and asked, ¡®Can I help you?¡¯ ¡°The Elf Lady shot one of the guys in the head. ¡°¡®No,¡± she said, ¡®But I¡¯d like to help you.¡¯ ¡°She unloads the gun on the guy¡¯s corpse, shooting him six more times. Reloads the gun, does it again. Ends up shooting the guy forty-nine times.¡± ¡°Why?¡± I asked. ¡°Guy who told me said something about a prophecy. Apparently the Elf Lady said the Godkiller would need to be destroyed at some point, and the metal in those bullets would do the trick. Told Jewell to melt the bullets into a gun that could destroy the Godkiller. Of course, I never thought it¡¯d be in Val¡¯s hands when it had to get broken. Always figured it would¡¯ve been stolen. Or maybe he¡¯d have a shit kid that¡¯d misuse it, or something.¡± If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. He began sagging a little, his shoulders beginning to fall, his eyelids beginning to droop, like gravity was too much to handle in this late day and age. ¡°So Jewell did it? She took the metal and forged a gun that could destroy the Godkiller?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± The Hero said. ¡°Sure. Keeps it in her drawer and everything. I¡¯ve seen a lot of fucked up shit. I¡¯ve seen a lot of fucked up shit. But nothing that seemed so damn,¡± he paused, took a deep breath, ¡°shitty.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± I nodded my head. ¡°You alright to get home?¡± ¡°Just a flight of steps.¡± ¡°Alright,¡± I said, patting him on the back. ¡°Thanks again.¡± I walked up the steps, contemplating the impossible. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª I dreamed. It was a better way of living. Val was there, in the passenger¡¯s seat. We drove, looking at long fields of green. I had one hand on the wheel, the other holding a blunt. I took a toke, blowing it out the car window. ¡°You ever think about The Hero?¡¯ Val nodded his head, arm hanging out the window. ¡°Sure.¡± ¡°I was just thinking, because you two are so similar and all.¡± ¡°I suppose you¡¯re right,¡± Val said, ¡°in one sense, at least.¡± ¡°You think you guys are different?¡± ¡°In some ways,¡± Val said, ¡°though I understand your point. The Elf Lady said that The Hero would save the world, and he did. She said I would save the world, and that¡¯s what I¡¯m doing.¡± ¡°Beckett said he was a miserable bastard.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t put too much stock in that,¡± Val said. ¡°Beckett¡¯s the sort of person that makes people miserable. I don¡¯t mean to disparage her ¡ª I know you like her. I just mean that in a broader sense of the term, miserable is a state of mind. And I¡¯ve seen a number of people get into that state of mind because of Beckett. Loud, intoxicated, and ready to say something offensive works great for you, but not most people in this world.¡± ¡°Maybe,¡± I said. ¡°That makes sense. I just think about what fame must do to a man like that.¡± I took another drag. ¡°You go and kill all of Hostem¡¯s kids ¡ª all ten of ¡®em, each of ¡®em the god of something or other, and then everyone rewards you for it. You¡¯re used to killing gods, but you can¡¯t kill the biggest one of them all ¡ª you can¡¯t kill Hostem. You¡¯ve lost all sense of purpose. What does that do, you know? How do you cope?¡± Val shrugged his shoulder, eyes focused on the scene outside the window. ¡°You drink.¡± ¡°You gotta do more than that,¡± I said. ¡°You can¡¯t just get drunk.¡± Val shrugged his shoulder again. ¡°From what I¡¯ve read, that¡¯s all The Hero does, these days. He goes to the bar and gets drunk, a godkiller among men. He sits there while I go to kill Hostem. He sits while I kill the ultimate enemy.¡± ¡°Must be sad.¡± ¡°For him, anyway.¡± ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª I woke up to the sound of knocking. Was I drowning? I took in a deep breath of air, only to feel something in my mouth. I spat it out, coughing. Felt like my face was cocooned. I scratched it, only to have dead skin come off. I got up and saw half of my face on the pillow. Don¡¯t scream. Don¡¯t scream. Don¡¯t scream. More knocking. This is normal. This is what happens to elves. They shed. The sound of Lusu¡¯s voice: ¡°I was having such a good dream, too.¡± ¡°Can you get the door?¡± I asked, feet on the floor as I tried scratching this dead skin off of me. ¡°Sounds like you¡¯re already up,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ve got to do something,¡± I said, making my way to the bathroom. ¡°This is a nice-looking door,¡± Jewell said, ¡°but I¡¯m not afraid to bust it down.¡± Lusu got up and went to the front door, while I closed the bathroom door. My reflection stared back at me. I didn¡¯t like it. ¡°You try and break into my shop last night?¡± I heard Jewel ask, in the other room. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about,¡± Lusu responded. ¡°Someone hacked at the door of my smithy last night,¡± Jewell said. ¡°Didn¡¯t manage to break through, but that wasn¡¯t for lack of trying.¡± I should¡¯ve been thinking about what Jewell was saying. I should¡¯ve been planning on how to get that gun of hers. But instead, I merely met the glare of my reflection. I saw myself: the bleach blond hair, the button-down shirt, the body that didn¡¯t belong to me. ¡°I¡¯ve been here all night,¡± Lusu said. ¡°What about that elf you were with?¡± ¡°She was at the bar for a while, then came up and went right to sleep.¡± ¡°And where is she now?¡± Jewell asked. ¡°In the bathroom,¡± I yelled. ¡°I¡¯d like you to come out here so we can have a chat,¡± Jewell yelled back. ¡°She¡¯s shedding right now.¡± ¡°So?¡± Jewell said. ¡°Elves shed, that¡¯s just a fact of life. What sort of elf isn¡¯t used to shedding?¡± I bit my lip, holding back tears. Still couldn¡¯t escape the gaze of the mirror. This isn¡¯t who I am. This isn¡¯t who I am. My hair looked all wrong. I could see why the elf had gelled it back: it was thin, oddly frizzy. ¡°She has a condition,¡± Lusu said. ¡°Doesn¡¯t shed as often as the rest of them. It¡¯s a bit of a shock whenever it happens.¡± ¡°Well,¡± Jewell said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear that, but I¡¯m still going to need to see her. Someone tried robbing me the day after you two came into town, and that¡¯s too much of a coincidence to just label it a coincidence. I need to look at that elf, look into her eyes and figure out if she¡¯s the sort of thing that would try and steal.¡± ¡°You¡¯re certain I didn¡¯t do it?¡± Lusu asked. ¡°You don¡¯t look like the sort of thing that would bust down a door like that,¡± Jewell said. ¡°Too innocent, or something?¡± Lusu asked. ¡°Or something,¡± Jewell replied. I took a breath, then opened the bathroom door. Jewell stared at me. It was almost worse, looking at her when she didn¡¯t have the goggles on. I saw the anger in her eyes. I saw the pain. ¡°Did you try to break into my shop last night?¡± she asked. ¡°No,¡± I said. As soon as I said it, I felt regret: I sounded so unconfident, so hurt. Still, Jewell said, ¡°I believe you.¡± She turned for the front door. ¡°What now?¡± I asked. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Jewell replied. ¡°You know we didn¡¯t do it. So what¡¯s the next step for you?¡± Jewell sighed. ¡°They¡¯ll try doing it again. Eventually, they¡¯ll either get inside, or they¡¯ll get themselves in some deep shit.¡± ¡°Must be something real special, to warrant such trouble,¡± Lusu purred. ¡°I guess so,¡± Jewell said. She opened the door and left. ¡°I wonder what that was about,¡± Lusu said. I stood there for a few moments, wanting to tell Lusu about the gun. I hadn¡¯t gotten the chance to tell her last night, since she¡¯d been asleep. But now, the words just didn¡¯t seem to want to come out. I stood there for a few moments, searching for words until I finally managed to spit out, ¡°Yeah.¡± I rushed back into the bathroom, slamming the door closed. ¡°You alright?¡± Lusu asked, on the other side of the door. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. My breath felt short. My body felt short. I ran a hand through my bleach blonde hair. Ran the other one through it, too. It was soft. Too soft. Just a little softer than it used to be. I pulled at it, just hard enough to make it hurt. I let go, tears welling up. Looked at the button-down shirt. I¡¯d been wearing it to bed every day, since I didn¡¯t have any other clothes. It was wrinkled. It¡¯d looked so nice on somebody else. But now that it was on me? It just didn¡¯t fit. I wanted to tear it off, but refrained. Instead, I unbuttoned it slowly, each action revealing just a bit more pale elven skin. Seeing my breasts wasn¡¯t shocking, just disappointing. My shirt fell to the cold bathroom floor. I unbuttoned my pants. Unzipped them, and they fell to the ground. I stood there, braless, but still wearing my underwear. This was the hardest part, wasn¡¯t it? But it was necessary, if I really wanted to understand myself. I slipped my fingers around the cloth of the panties. My hands were trembling. One of my tears hit the bathroom floor. I tilted my head upwards, closing my eyes to try and contain the tears. Took the panties off without looking. I opened my eyes. Then, slowly, I turned my gaze towards the reflection. Took in a deep breath, trying to ignore the absence in-between my legs. I reached out with my right hand and leaned on my reflection. --- Author''s Note: That''s the end of Chapter 2.2! If you don''t feel like waiting for the next chapter, the rest of the story has already been posted on my site. Click here for Chapter 2.3: https://megapulp.wordpress.com/2015/05/02/2-3/ 2.3 My eyes felt puffy, as I sat on the bed. I hung my head a little, while Lusu sat on an armchair. ¡°So it¡¯s the gun that could stop Val,¡± Lusu said. ¡°Not sure,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s what The Hero seems to think.¡± ¡°Either way, we have to get it. To be sure, if nothing else.¡± ¡°I guess.¡± ¡°You think The Hero tried to break into the smithy last night?¡± I shrugged my shoulders. ¡°Maybe. Probably, but I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°We don¡¯t know much about this gun, do we?¡± ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°We don¡¯t know much at all.¡± She nodded her head. Thinking about it, I realized she knew more than I did. ¡°Val¡¯s alive,¡± I said. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°But how do you know? What did you see?¡± She took a long, deep drag off her cigarette, sighing smoke. ¡°That¡¯s not an answer,¡± I said. ¡°I know,¡± she said. ¡°I can¡¯t say I love the question.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have to ask it if you¡¯d just told me already.¡± ¡°At the funeral,¡± Lusu said, ¡°something broke out of Val¡¯s coffin.¡± ¡°It wasn¡¯t Val?¡± ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°What was it?¡± ¡°A machine,¡± she said. ¡°Some abomination. I don¡¯t know. It didn¡¯t make any sense.¡± ¡°Maybe they switched out the corpse,¡± I said. ¡°Maybe,¡± she said, ¡°but it looked just like him.¡± I sat there. ¡°I didn¡¯t kill him.¡± ¡°I believe you,¡± she said. ¡°I never would have killed him.¡± She didn¡¯t respond. Truth be told, I didn¡¯t want her to. ¡°The Angel of Death told me he wasn¡¯t dead,¡± she said, ¡°so I don¡¯t think he is.¡± ¡°You trust her,¡± I said. ¡°Not really,¡± Lusu said. ¡°I don¡¯t think she¡¯s a liar. I wonder if she isn¡¯t just a pawn in a much larger game. But that doesn¡¯t mean I trust her.¡± I leaned back a little. Somehow, that comforted me. I felt the same way: I loved the Angel of Death, but hated her. I trusted her, but I didn¡¯t. I missed her when she was gone, dreaded her when she stood right before me. Lusu sighed, her eyes no longer focused on me. Instead, she stared blankly at the wall behind me. ¡°What an awful picture,¡± she said. I was thankful for the change of subject. Looked up and spied the painting above me. It was Demersi, clad in his trademark spacesuit. He sat in the office I remembered him sitting in so many years ago. He sat next to Stellavia. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said. ¡°I think it looks nice.¡± ¡°It¡¯s just strange to see someone¡¯s image not long after they¡¯ve died,¡± Lusu said. ¡°Seems haunted.¡± ¡°The past suffocating the present.¡± Looking at that picture, I thought I wanted to see Demersi again. ¡°I¡¯m going to go downstairs,¡± I said, feeling vertiginous. ¡°You may want to try and find The Hero.¡± ¡°Why?¡± She rolled her eyes, seeming to view me with a mix of annoyance and boredom. ¡°As we were just suggesting, he might¡¯ve broken into the smithy last night. Talk to him. See if he has any idea who else might be interested in the gun.¡± I rubbed my forehead. ¡°You¡¯re right. I¡¯m sorry. I wasn¡¯t thinking about that.¡± I moved to leave, but when my hand was on the door, Lusu said, ¡°You seem tired. Have you been sleeping well?¡± I scratched my head, leaning some of my weight against the door knob. ¡°Not really. No.¡± ¡°You may want to try and fix that,¡± she said. ¡°I have the feeling this is the beginning of a long trip.¡± I nodded my head. ¡°You know what? I think you¡¯re right.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the thing, George. I¡¯m always right.¡± She let out a soft sort of chuckle as I walked out the room. I walked through the cramped hallway, shoes knocking against the hardwood floor. From the top of the staircase, on the second story, I could see the bar on the ground-level. The Hero sat there, his broad shoulders hunched over. He whipped his head back, to drink a shot of something or other. A bottle of whiskey sat on the bar, within his reach. I made my way down the stairs. Before I reached the bottom, he looked up and said, ¡°Here¡¯s to the elf of the hour.¡± He poured another shot and kicked it back. I reached the bottom of the staircase and began to walk towards him. ¡°I don¡¯t understand.¡± ¡°Sue¡¯s been talking about you,¡± The Hero said. ¡°Sue?¡± ¡°The bartender,¡± The Hero said. ¡°Right.¡± ¡°Went to talk to Jewel, to see if she could patch things over.¡± ¡°Patch things over?¡± The Hero laughed. At what, I wasn¡¯t sure. ¡°Sue says Jewell¡¯s going to be pissed,¡± The Hero said. ¡°Because she thinks I¡¯m the one who tried to break into the smithy.¡± The Hero blushed, looking back at the glass as he poured himself another shot. ¡°You always drink this much in the morning?¡± I asked. The Hero shrugged. Drinking his guilt away. If it hadn¡¯t been obvious who¡¯d tried to break into the smithy before, it sure was now. ¡°Usually Diamond is the first at the bar,¡± The Hero said. ¡°Diamond?¡± ¡°Lead guitarist,¡± The Hero said. ¡°Of Deus ex Apocalyptico. They were playing here last night.¡± ¡°Right,¡± I said. ¡°He¡¯s an alcoholic,¡± The Hero whispered. What does it say about you when you start drinking before the alcoholic? I thought. But I figured it best to keep that one to myself. No use making an enemy I didn¡¯t need to make, even if he was a jack-ass. I had enough trouble already. ¡°Must be tough,¡± I said. ¡°Ah,¡± The Hero said, swatting his hand away. ¡°There are worse troubles in the world than the shit our own mind comes up with.¡± I shrugged. Roughly a full minute passed, the two of us sitting there with nothing to say or do. The Hero looked uncomfortable, a little sweaty, a little red in the face. Thinking about it, he probably hadn¡¯t slept since last night. If he had, there was no way he¡¯d slept for very long. I placed my hand on the smooth white bar. Marble. Strong. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± The Hero said, ¡°that you got blamed for trying to break into the smithy.¡± ¡°I talked to Jewel,¡± I said. ¡°She knows it isn¡¯t me.¡± ¡°That¡¯s good,¡± The Hero said, furrowing his brow as if the mere act of thought confused him. ¡°That¡¯s good.¡± He sighed, moving his hand to grab the bottle of whiskey again. He decided against it, moving his hand back, to let it rest on the bartop. ¡°I want to break in.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°I want to break into her smithy, and get that gun.¡± ¡°Why?¡± He furrowed his brow again. ¡°I haven¡¯t been a part of something important in a long, long time. I thought I was okay with that. And I was, for a while. For a good long while, I had no problem with the idea of retirement. Not like things weren¡¯t exciting. When you¡¯re around liquor and guns all the time, it¡¯s hard to be bored, you know?¡± ¡°I can¡¯t imagine,¡± I said. He looked at the bottle of whiskey, not talking. I couldn¡¯t tell if he was trying to think of something to say, or if he didn¡¯t want to say anything. I opened my mouth, but he spoke first: ¡°Guess it can get boring, doing the same thing day after day. Even if it¡¯s with some of your favorite things in the world, you get bored.¡± ¡°So you want to take the gun?¡± ¡°I want to get the gun,¡± he said. ¡°I want to help you. I want to be part of a prophesy, again.¡± That makes one of us. ¡°You have any ideas?¡± I asked. ¡°Sure,¡± The Hero said. ¡°I think I know how to get inside.¡± A bell rang. Diamond, entering the bar. ¡°Brother!¡± he yelled, walking towards us. ¡°Brother,¡± The Hero said, raising his empty shot glass at Diamond. ¡°This is pretty early for you, isn¡¯t it?¡± he asked, sitting down. ¡°Or late,¡± I said. ¡°What?¡± Diamond asked. ¡°Nothing.¡± Diamond said, ¡°Did you want to meet this pretty little thing at the bar?¡± He flashed a grin and let out a thin short of chuckle. An ugly lump sat in my throat. ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°She found me down here, actually.¡± ¡°What, you wanted to meet an old, washed-up man at the bar?¡± Diamond asked me. That smile of his was sickening. He combed his fingers through his shock of bright blue hair. It looked like a failed mohawk, since it was just one straight line, starting just above the forehead and making its way across his head and down to his neck. ¡°No,¡± I said, hoping the statement sounded firm, final. I hoped Diamond wouldn¡¯t keep going down this road. The look in his eyes convinced me he was done. ¡°Nice show you had, last night.¡± ¡°Thanks,¡± he said. ¡°Though the way I hear it, my show wasn¡¯t the most interesting thing happening last night.¡± ¡°You talking about the break-in?¡± The Hero asked. ¡°Yeah,¡± Diamond said, his smile turned into a smirk, ¡°Well, the attempted break-in.¡± ¡°Right,¡± The Hero said, looking down at the ground. ¡°It¡¯s not that interesting,¡± Diamond said. ¡°A failed crime isn¡¯t really much of a crime at all.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know if the law agrees with you,¡± I said. He shrugged his shoulders, ¡°I don¡¯t know if I agree with the law.¡± The day passed like that, Diamond, The Hero, and I chatting away, not saying anything of consequence, but just talking. It was nice, actually. Relaxing. Sometimes I forgot I was an elf. Sometimes I forgot about my gender. Lusu walked through at one point, I have no idea where to. She walked by without saying a word. Eventually it got late and I was plenty drunk. Diamond¡¯s band wasn¡¯t playing until tomorrow, so I shambled my way up the steps. Right around the eighth time Diamond went to the bathroom, The Hero and I finalized our agreement to break into the smithy tomorrow. Though break-in was a strong word for what The Hero¡¯s plan was. Turns out he knew a guy who worked at the smithy some days. The friend was working tomorrow, so the plan was to pay the guy some cash, walk on in, take the gun and walk out. I stumbled through the door, flopping on the bed. The robbery would be easy, if I could remember how to walk tomorrow. I dreamed. It was a better way of living. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª ¡°Really, we¡¯re the Gun Generation,¡± Val said, his hands gripping the wheel, his eyes on the road. There was a sort of passion in his movements, a madness in his body. ¡°Gun Generation,¡± I said, chewing the thought, letting it roll over my tongue. ¡°What do you mean?¡± Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Things move so fast these days, like a bullet out of a gun,¡± Val said, pushing just a little on the ignition, making the car rev a bit, flinging us into the future. I couldn¡¯t tell if he was making a point, or doing it unconsciously. Either idea worried me. I held tight to the seat of the car. Val went on, ¡°The gods try to kill an innocent human, so The Hero kills most of the gods. Then Hostem¡¯s all alone ¡ª tries to kill himself and take the whole world with him. But now we have to take him. What then? Bang, bang, bang. It¡¯s a bloodbath ¡ª tiny, in terms of the age of the world, but probably the biggest thing that¡¯s ever happened. We¡¯re killing the gods, because they tried to kill us. What happens after all that? Where can society go? It¡¯s like the silence after a gunshot. It just doesn¡¯t make sense. No one knows what to do. Too much impact, and not enough time to think.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t get worse,¡± I said. Soon as the words slipped off my tongue, I wasn¡¯t so sure. ¡°Hope you¡¯re right,¡± he said. ¡°Some days, I just feel like a match, you know? I¡¯m going to strike and burn bright ¡ª kill a god, which is no small feat. But then, soon as my purpose is done, I¡¯m gonna get snuffed out.¡± ¡°Then you¡¯ll be smoke,¡± I said. ¡°Smoke isn¡¯t so bad, is it?¡± ¡°Smoke,¡± he said, easing his foot off the ignition pedal. ¡°It¡¯s something.¡± ¡°It¡¯s enough,¡± I said, taking out a pack of cigarettes. ¡°Here¡¯s to smoking.¡± I took a cigarette out of the pack, slipping it in my mouth while I slipped the pack back into my pocket. Rolled down the car window with one hand, while snapping with my other. ¡°Fiat lux,¡± I mumbled. A spark flew from my fingers and onto the cigarette. I took in a lungful of smoke, then blew it out the car window. We sped past the smoke, though. I didn¡¯t get a good look at it. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª I woke to the sound of a knock on the door. Felt like a pattern ¡ª one I didn¡¯t like. I almost expected my skin to slough off. My heart beat a little too quickly as I placed my hand on my cheek. I was fine, not shedding. The sound of a key entering the keyhole. A turn, and then the opening of the door. I sprung up, only to find Sue standing there, looking mad as hell for who knows what reason. ¡°I want you two out of here,¡± she said, jabbing her finger at me. ¡°Why?¡± I asked. ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°What happened?¡± she repeated. ¡°What happened? What happened is that you two have been nothing but trouble since you got here. I want you out, today. Now.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± I didn¡¯t know what to say. What had we done? Lusu seemed to have less trouble. Out of the corner of my eye I saw her get up, sliding up a little so that her back could rest on the bedpost. ¡°We paid for a full week,¡± she said, sounding unamused. ¡°We¡¯ll stay here for the full week.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll get a full refund,¡± she said. ¡°But you¡¯ll also get the fuck out of here.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t think so?¡± Sue asked. ¡°We paid for a full week,¡± Lusu said. ¡°We¡¯ll stay here for the full week.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been talking to people,¡± Sue said. ¡°You know what I¡¯ve found? Nobody likes you. Nobody wants a goddamn elf in the bar, and we sure as hell don¡¯t want a Hyalu.¡± She walked over to the bar and got in Lusu¡¯s face. ¡°That makes me the voice of the people, telling you to fuck off.¡± Lusu sighed, taking off the covers and slid her legs off the bed, so that they were on the floor. She stood up, wearing nothing but her underwear, staring Sue directly in the eyes. ¡°I was married to Blake Reiner,¡± she said. ¡°Am married, actually, since he never filed for divorce. Obviously you know the stories surrounding him. We all do. And I assume you¡¯re not a complete moron, which means that you can pick up what¡¯s at the heart of every one of those tales: violence. A wrong is perceived, so he kills the wrongdoer. Again and again, story after story. Some of the stories are false, of course: false memories created by a society that didn¡¯t witness things firsthand. But some of those stories? They¡¯re dangerously true.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± Lusu said, walking in a circle so that she was now behind Sue, forcing Sue to turn with Lusu, follow Lusu¡¯s lead, ¡°you¡¯ve no reason to worry about him. I¡¯m not threatening to sic him on you, though he does resemble a mad dog. No, what I¡¯m trying to explain to you is that I survived. Every day I lived with a man who loved killing. At first, it wasn¡¯t a problem. I loved him, and he loved me. How could there possibly be a problem? But the years moved on, and doubts began to creep in. Yes, I loved him for how much he changed my world. But after a while, the changed world became the norm. And I couldn¡¯t help but wonder: was this man capable of stability? Did he want a changed world, or did he just love to change things?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Lusu said. ¡°I didn¡¯t know then, and I don¡¯t know now. What I do know is that I survived. And in surviving, I learned from the best. I lived with the best killer the world has ever known. I saw the depravity in his heart, the darkness in his eyes. I learned from the best. Question is, do you want me to show you what I¡¯ve learned?¡± Sue stuttered, trying to say something but ending up with a mess of useless syllables. Lusu took in some air, getting ready to say something. But she was interrupted by Jewell, who came in through the doorway. ¡°I told you I¡¯d take care of this,¡± Sue said. ¡°I know,¡± Jewell replied, her voice softer than usual, her goggles resting just a little below her hairline, her eyes plagued by red lines. ¡°But this is more important than all that. I need to know. I can¡¯t just sit by and wait.¡± I had trouble saying the words: ¡°The gun¡¯s gone?¡± Jewell barely nodded. Her head tilted half an inch up, then half an inch down. ¡°You took it, or you know who did.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t take it,¡± I said. ¡°We didn¡¯t take it.¡± ¡°I kept that gun locked up for a lot of years,¡± she said. ¡°We need it,¡± I said, ¡°but we didn¡¯t take it.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t need that blood weapon.¡± ¡°Your friend was killed for a reason,¡± I said, voice shaking. ¡°Don¡¯t justify murder. Don¡¯t you dare.¡± ¡°It¡¯s¡­¡± I searched for the word. Was there one? ¡°Sacrifice.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t give a shit what it is,¡± Sue said. ¡°I want you out of here.¡± ¡°Haven¡¯t you been listening?¡± Lusu said. ¡°I¡¯ll eat you alive, bitch.¡± ¡°Val¡¯s trying to end the world,¡± I said. ¡°We¡¯re the only ones who can stop him. That gun is the only way we can do it.¡± ¡°Nothing good can come from those crazy elves. You¡¯re one of those elves,¡± Jewell said. ¡°And you expect me to trust you? You expect me to trust you?¡± ¡°That gun,¡± I began. ¡°I used to be a journalist, before I was an Elf Guard. And I wrote obituaries ¡ª a lot of them. And do you know what I found? People leave bits of themselves, when they go. They impact an environment. That gun is your friend¡¯s legacy. That gun is your friend¡¯s direct impact on the world. By fighting us, you fight his destiny.¡± ¡°You elves have a lot to say about destiny, don¡¯t you?¡± Sue asked. ¡°I wish I didn¡¯t,¡± I said, softly. Because wasn¡¯t that what had fucked me over, time and time again? Wasn¡¯t the problem with this goddamn destiny ¡ª this goddamn destiny that kept me on this godawful trail, killing a god only to have to later kill a Godkiller? ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter whether or not I need the gun,¡± I said. ¡°Not to you, anyway. I don¡¯t have it.¡± ¡°Who else knew about the gun?¡± Jewell asked. ¡°The Hero¡¯s the one who told me about it,¡± I said. ¡°Then there¡¯s Diamond.¡± ¡°Diamond,¡± Jewell said, chewing the name. ¡°What would he want with the gun?¡± ¡°No idea,¡± I said. Jewell and Sue looked at each other. ¡°Do you know anything about the gun that we don¡¯t?¡± Jewell asked. I shrugged. ¡°I don¡¯t even know if it¡¯s the gun we¡¯re looking for.¡± ¡°Bullshit,¡± Sue said. ¡°Cut the elf crap and tell us: what¡¯s going to happen with that gun?¡± I retreated into myself a bit. How could people get things so wrong? ¡°You know I can¡¯t say.¡± ¡°What do you see?¡± Sue asked. ¡°Not good things,¡± I told them. Jewell seemed to believe me, and Sue believed Jewell. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª Jewell barreled down the stairs. Sue followed her, I followed Sue, and Lusu followed me. Well, she didn¡¯t quite follow me. She seemed to be working a lot of stuff out. I don¡¯t know where her mind was at, what she was following. The Hero was sitting at the bar, drinking a cup of something ¡ª beer, probably. Jewell smacked him across the back of the head. He spat out his drink, which was actually clear. Then he asked, ¡°What was that for?¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have the gun?¡± she asked. ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°Your gun?¡± ¡°The gun you couldn¡¯t shut your mouth about,¡± she said. A single heartbeat. Then he said, ¡°No, I don¡¯t have it.¡± ¡°If you¡¯re lying¨C¡± Sue began. But The Hero cut her off: ¡°You guys have known me to be a liar, sure. I¡¯ve said a lot of things I shouldn¡¯ta said, but have you known me to be a good liar?¡± Jewell nodded her head, gazing deep into his eyes. ¡°No, I haven¡¯t.¡± ¡°Alright, then,¡± he said. ¡°Then you can trust me.¡± ¡°Stop drinking,¡± Sue said. ¡°I don¡¯t want my liquor clouding your mind anymore than it already has. We¡¯ve got a problem, and we¡¯re going to need a fighter.¡± ¡°It¡¯s water,¡± The Hero said, raising up his cup. ¡°Just water. Why? What¡¯s going on?¡± ¡°Diamond has the gun,¡± Jewell said. ¡°Ah, shit,¡± The Hero said. He grabbed his water and threw it back, taking a huge gulp. Then he slammed it on the bar. ¡°What?¡± Sue asked. ¡°Diamond owes Demersi a lot of money,¡± The Hero said. ¡°He¡¯s supposed to be over there right now, playing a gig.¡± ¡°You think he has it in him to kill someone?¡± I asked. ¡°All that fucking band of his sings about is death,¡± Sue said. I wondered if that was so bad. --- --- --- Author''s Note: That''s the end of 2.3! Hope everyone enjoyed it. If you don''t feel like waiting for the next chapter, the whole thing has already been posted on my site. Click here for the next chapter: https://megapulp.wordpress.com/2015/05/02/2-4/ 2.4 ¡°A bar, a casino, and a smithy, all within a couple miles of each other,¡± Lusu said, droll as always, one hand on the wheel, the other dangling from the car window. ¡°Just how do you people live?¡± ¡°Well,¡± Sue said, sitting next to Lusu, acting as navigator, ¡°because of those very things you just mentioned.¡± ¡°If you can¡¯t drink, gamble, and shoot, what can you do?¡± The Hero asked. ¡°Love,¡± I said. ¡°Live. Read a good book. Figure out some way to become better than a goddamn animal.¡± The Hero looked at me, then at Lusu. ¡°What the hell¡¯s her problem?¡± ¡°Too many to list,¡± Lusu said. ¡°It¡¯s been a rough couple weeks.¡± Lusu was right, in a way. It had been a damn rough couple of weeks. Ever since Val had killed Stellavia. Why? Why had I opened this damn can of worms again? But I¡¯d been like this for a long time ¡ª almost my whole life ¡ª never knowing what to say or what to do, uncomfortable around other living things. What was the use of small chat, when the whole damn universe was going to hell? We spent the rest of the car ride in silence. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª Dead. Demersi lay face down in the dirt, the back of his helmet shattered, his spacesuit worn and worthless, his whole body ready to wither, his whole life nothing but a story to be forgotten and retold, mistakes fabricated and fermented, until the lies became more real than the man. Demersi¡¯s right arm was outstretched, palm in the dirt like he was reaching for something. His body lay just a few feet away from a Ford Thunderbird ¡ª a beautiful car, if it mattered. ¡°Dammit,¡± Sue said, chewing on a cigar. There wasn¡¯t much else to say, was there? I took out a cigarette. ¡°Fiat lux,¡± I said, snapping so that a spark flew from my fingers and onto my cigarette. I let the smoke fill my lungs. Then I blew it out. I crouched down, taking a closer look at Demersi. He had wild signs scrawled all across his suit, though I¡¯d be damned if I could decipher them. Fire engulfed by leaves. A dragon weaving its way across his body. An opened doorway, with all the light pouring out. Damn. I¡¯d met Demersi, during my adventures with Val. In a twisted way, he¡¯d called me a friend. It was sad to see him like this. ¡°Anybody know what all this is supposed to mean?¡± I asked the group. We all grew quiet. I guess we were a quiet bunch. I grabbed Demersi¡¯s left arm. The space suit felt unnaturally cold. It wasn¡¯t hard, but it was tough. I pulled the arm up and over, turning Demersi around. I thought I¡¯d be able to see Demersi¡¯s face, but I only saw blood. It caked the inside of the helmet. There was a small bullet-sized hole that blood had been oozing out of for who knows how long. I looked to see where the bullet had gone. A small, bullet-sized hole in the dirt. I took a closer look at it. Looked deep. Stuck my finger in it. Still deeper. Pushed some of the dirt away. The hole was deeper. Stuck my finger in it again, but I wasn¡¯t able to find the bottom. ¡°Let¡¯s go inside,¡± Sue said. I thought that was a good idea, so I got up. The three of us made our way to the casino, passing under the neon sign, its flashing lights signifying the words, ¡°Demersi¡¯s Sins.¡± I opened the door, not liking what I saw. Darkness, marred by a sliver of light. It had the feeling of something terrible ¡ª feeling in the darkness and sensing that something was in there. Something was in there, and it shouldn¡¯t be in there. ¡°Oh, god,¡± Jewell muttered, under her breath. The sliver of light that got through to the casino illuminated nothing more than a patch of carpet. But something slipped out of the darkness: a trickle of blood. Take a breath, I told myself. It¡¯s nothing more than a speck. Breathed out, reaching out to my right, that damned hand looking for a bit of light. Groping, I had trouble finding it. My fingers crawled across the wall, and then I found it. Grabbed onto the switch and flicked it. Blood. They¡¯re all dead, I thought. Hell, I saw it. They were all dead. About 20 people, spread across the casino, some of them lying on the floor, some of them collapsed onto the game tables. Suddenly I noticed a man, standing over the roulette wheel. A second man lay on the wheel. The living man smiled, spinning it. ¡°Have you ever wondered if you matter?¡± a voice sang, booming through the loudspeakers. ¡°Have you ever wondered if other people cared? / Have you ever wondered if your struggles meant something? / Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯m here to tell you. I¡¯m your master.¡± I could hear Jewell and The Hero unsheathe their swords. Sue took out a small gun. Lusu had her hands outstretched, ready for magic. Then there was me. Me? I was just scared. ¡°One bullet,¡± the voice said, speaking instead of singing. ¡°I did all of this with just one bullet. Isn¡¯t that amazing?¡± Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lusu smirk. ¡°Amazing for a psychopath,¡± Sue replied. *BANG* A bullet whipped through the air. A flash of crimson, and then another. Two bodies collapsed to the floor, almost simultaneously. Jewell and Sue, dead. The bullet would have had to make a sharp turn in mid-air to hit both of them like that. I looked at the doorway on the other end of the room. It was marred by a small, bullet-shaped hole, one that I didn¡¯t remember seeing earlier. The man continued to spin the roulette wheel, laughing. ¡°Shit,¡± The Hero muttered. He re-sheathed his sword, then put his hands in the air. ¡°I¡¯ve fought a lot of fights,¡± he said. ¡°I know I can¡¯t win this one.¡± ¡°Glad to hear it,¡± the voice on the speaker said. ¡°That¡¯s the problem with sentience, isn¡¯t it? We fight and we fight. We struggle and we maim and we kill others for dominance. But we never win, do we?¡± Silence. An awful, strangling silence. Nothing left but the soft laughter of the man who kept spinning the roulette wheel. Finally, after far too long had passed, I said, ¡°You want an answer?¡± He didn¡¯t say anything. So I spoke, instead. ¡°I¡¯ll never win, until I die. I want to die.¡± The man at the roulette wheel stopped laughing. ¡°I¡¯ve wanted to die for a long time,¡± I yelled, across the void, ¡°but I haven¡¯t. I¡¯ve wanted to die for a long time, you see? I have all sorts of reasons for that ¡ª most of them personal, not really relevant right here and now. Point is, I want to die.¡± ¡°What do you want me to do about it?¡± the voice on the speaker said, sounding meaker. ¡°Do you want me to kill you?¡± If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Yes,¡± I said. ¡°I want you to kill me.¡± More silence. ¡°I get the hesitation,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s hard to kill someone, when you get an extra moment to really think about it. With that gun of yours, it doesn¡¯t seem so bad. Pull the trigger, then bang. It¡¯s done, and you don¡¯t even have to get your hands dirty. But then you really think about killing someone. When you think about the life that was there, that you just eliminate? When you think about the little piece of the world you just killed? It becomes hard.¡± ¡°Here¡¯s why I want you to kill me,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ve been here too long. I¡¯ve seen too many awful things, and the few good things in this world are probably far behind me. I forget what it feels like to be created. I forget what it feels like to not constantly be hounded by Death.¡± ¡°Here¡¯s why you shouldn¡¯t kill me,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m the ma¨C I¡¯m the thing that¡¯s going to save the world. I don¡¯t want to have that responsibility ¡ª in all honesty, you killing me would free me of the responsibility. I¡¯d like that. But there¡¯s a reason I have to do this. There¡¯s a reason I have to stop the world from getting destroyed. I can¡¯t think of what it even is ¡ª I can¡¯t imagine why I¡¯d save lives when I want to get rid of my own, but truth is, that¡¯s what I¡¯m going to do. So you can kill me, right here and now. But just know that when you kill me, you kill the world.¡± Deafening silence. Finally, he said, ¡°It was hard when Hostem tried to kill us all. Made me think.¡± ¡°Made me think, too,¡± I said. ¡°You think you have a purpose,¡± Diamond said, ¡°but then it turns out you don¡¯t. You want to make up some new purpose for your life, but you can¡¯t. It¡¯s just you, waiting to die. Why didn¡¯t we let Hostem just kill us all? If he felt like we¡¯d outlived our purpose, why didn¡¯t we listen to him?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said. ¡°If that¡¯s how you feel, why haven¡¯t you killed yourself?¡± He sighed. ¡°I don¡¯t know. It just didn¡¯t seem right. I wanted to be sure. I didn¡¯t know what to do. How can you know what to do, when this world is so damn¡­¡± He stopped talking. ¡°I know,¡± I said. ¡°I envy you.¡± ¡°Envy me?¡± He laughed. ¡°How the hell could you envy me? Is it because I have power now? Is it because I have the gun? What does it even matter, in this stupid fucked up world?¡± I looked over at Lusu and The Hero. It sure mattered to them. ¡°I envy you because you can kill yourself,¡± I said. ¡°You don¡¯t have anything left to live for, you don¡¯t like the world around you. No more responsibilities, so you can kill yourself. Me? I¡¯m holding on. I¡¯m holding on by a goddamned thread, but believe it or not I¡¯m holding on. Because I¡¯m guilty. Because I need to make up for all the things I¡¯ve done.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve done a lot of bad things,¡± he said. Looking at the room, I believed him. ¡°I¡¯ve done worse,¡± I said. ¡°But you? You can let go.¡± ¡°I want to let go,¡± he said. ¡°You can,¡± I said. ¡°You can kill yourself.¡± ¡°I¡­ can.¡± ¡°That gun of yours? It can do anything,¡± I said. ¡°From what I¡¯ve seen, the bullets can arc through the air, right? You can shoot yourself in the head three times if you want ¡ª make sure it¡¯s all over for good. You have the power, and that¡¯s what you want.¡± ¡°It¡¯s what I want.¡± ¡°I envy you.¡± ¡°I¡¯m¡­¡± he said, ¡°in an enviable position.¡± ¡°You are.¡± ¡°I am.¡± ¡°So do it,¡± I said. ¡°Do it?¡± ¡°You and I are similar, in that we so hate this world. So I want you to do it. I want to live through you ¡ª to die through you. I want you to kill yourself.¡± ¡°I¡­¡± Silence. ¡°I want you to find peace.¡± ¡°Peace.¡± *BANG* After a second, the bullet broke through the door, whizzing through the air and through the head of the guy at the roulette wheel. He fell to the floor, dead. Breathe in, breathe out. You¡¯re still alive. Footsteps from behind. I turned around and saw The Angel of Death, mechanical wings unfurled, red eye glowing in the light of day. She wore a small knapsack. ¡°Quite the charmer,¡± The Angel of Death said. ¡°You always were one of my favorite humans.¡± My cheeks felt red. I kept my gaze on the ground. ¡°What happened here?¡± she asked. ¡°Where¡¯d you get the new wings?¡± I asked. She bent over, opening Jewell¡¯s mouth and sticking her arm in. ¡°Alright then,¡± she said, arm deep in Jewell¡¯s mouth. ¡°I suppose we¡¯ll both keep our secrets.¡± She pulled Jewel¡¯s soul out. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª Lusu, The Hero, and I walked towards the car. I carried the revolver. It was heavy ¡ª felt cold in my hands. It¡¯s handle had gotten stained by a bit of blood, and hard as I tried I couldn¡¯t wipe it off. ¡°Apologies, Hero,¡± Lusu said, ¡°but we don¡¯t have the time to drive you back to Jewell¡¯s Damned.¡± ¡°Sure we do,¡± I said. ¡°No,¡± Lusu said. ¡°We don¡¯t.¡± ¡°Val¡¯s going to destroy the world,¡± I said. ¡°What better place to wait that out than at the bar?¡± She got in my face. ¡°You just told a man to kill himself because you¡¯re on a mission. Now you¡¯re telling me we¡¯re no longer on that mission?¡± ¡°That¡¯s not why I told him to kill himself,¡± I said. I continued, ¡°Val¡¯s too far away at this point. Between my jail time and the time it took to get this gun, he¡¯s too far away. We won¡¯t catch up to him in time.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not going to try?¡± The Hero asked. The gun really did gleam in the light of day. I weighed it with one hand, then aimed it at a nearby tree. ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°Sometimes life deals you a shitty hand, and that¡¯s that. No use fighting it.¡± Lusu slapped me. Stung my cheek. ¡°That¡¯s not an acceptable answer.¡± I looked at her. ¡°This isn¡¯t my nihilism talking. It¡¯s just the truth. We tried to save the world, but we lost. Heck, I¡¯m part of the reason it¡¯s kept spinning for these past forty years. But now? Forget about it. It¡¯s all over and done.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not,¡± she said. ¡°Death Cult¡¯s only a couple miles from here.¡± ¡°What are you¨C¡± I began. She cut me off: ¡°I can get them to kill Val.¡± --- --- --- Thanks for reading! If you want to check out the next chapter, click here: https://megapulp.wordpress.com/2015/05/02/interlude-2/ Second Interlude Val walked into the bar, ignoring the sign that said ¡°Closed.¡± This was his last stop before journeying to the Celestial Wall. He had a gun strapped to one hip, a sword strapped to the other. There must¡¯ve been a broken pipe somewhere, because Val heard a steady dripping sound. ¡°Fuck you,¡± Evan said, polishing a glass behind the counter. He¡¯d given his father a glance ¡ª nothing more. ¡°Son,¡± Val said. ¡°I¡¯m leaving.¡± ¡°I know what you did,¡± Evan said. ¡°George came in here asking questions.¡± ¡°And you knew I was the one who¡¯d killed Stellavia.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t believe it,¡± Evan said. ¡°But seeing you here, now, with the sword and the gun and that look on your face? I know you did it.¡± ¡°It¡¯s Hostem, Evan,¡± Val said, moving towards the bar. ¡°Think of all the pain he and his creations have caused. Think of all the bad they¡¯ve created.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t have good without bad. Can¡¯t have life without death.¡± Evan chuckled, casting another glance at his father. He shook his head, putting the glass away and picking up another dirty one. ¡°Fuck you.¡± ¡°Whose values are that?¡± Val asked. ¡°Who is it that says, ¡®You can¡¯t have good without bad¡¯? Is that you? Is that me? Is that humanity? Or is it the gods, planting convenient thoughts in our heads, exploiting our infantilism?¡± ¡°I¡¯m what my Father made me,¡± Evan said. ¡°A naive, fucked up bastard.¡± ¡°I want to change that,¡± Val said. ¡°I want to make things better for everyone. If I can break through the Celestial Wall¨C¡± ¡°What the fuck would make you think you could do that?¡± Evan asked, slamming the glass on the counter. The glass shattered, but no one seemed to notice. The broken pipe continued to drip. Val didn¡¯t notice the bucket in the corner of the bar, collecting water. ¡°This sword can do anything,¡± Val said. ¡°You¡¯re past your prime, Dad,¡± Evan said. ¡°Should¡¯ve stopped before you started.¡± ¡°If I can break through the Celestial Wall, I can become a god.¡± ¡°You stupid¨C¡± ¡°I want you to come with me, son.¡± ¡°Never.¡± ¡°I need you to come with me,¡± he said. ¡°And if I don¡¯t?¡± Evan asked. ¡°I,¡± Val said, searching for his meaning. ¡°It¡¯s not a threat. I just want you to come with me.¡± Evan stopped for a moment, confused and misty-eyed. ¡°Dad.¡± ¡°I know I haven¡¯t been the greatest father,¡± Val said. ¡°But with this power, I could make it all up to you, to the world. Find us some purpose. Give us something to really believe in.¡± ¡°Dad, I¨C¡± ¡°I¡¯ve caused a lot of bloodshed. I understand that. But it¡¯s all been in the service of a greater good. All I want is for someone to really lead this sad, rudderless world. I¡¯m sorry I never told you that. I¡¯m sorry I never properly put that into words. I guess I just didn¡¯t know how to say it.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t have to come with me,¡± Val continued. ¡°But do you want to?¡± ¡°Dad, I¨C¡± Evan began. He didn¡¯t finish, because time suddenly froze. The broken pipe was still broken, but the sound of dripping couldn¡¯t be heard. Instead, a water droplet hung in midair ¡ª all potential, no realization. A portal opened up. Out of the portal stepped a man ¡ª no, a monster ¡ª no, something that wasn¡¯t quite either of those. For the sake of convenience, we¡¯ll call him Monster. Monster looked just like Val Rador. He carried a plastic bag in his left hand. And so, the creature that looked just like Val Rador stared at his mirror. The mirror didn¡¯t stare back. He didn¡¯t know what was going on, since time was frozen. Monster whipped out his sword, cleaving Evan¡¯s neck from his body. The head stayed right where it would have a half-second after the attack, floating just a centimeter above the body, because it hadn¡¯t yet responded to the kinetic force of the blow. Monster grabbed the head from mid-air, and stuffed it into the plastic bag. He then divided Evan horizontally and vertically, breaking the man into four more pieces. Each of these pieces didn¡¯t respond to the kinetic energy. Each of these pieces got stuffed into the plastic bag. The portal still glowed with a light bluish tint. Monster tied up the plastic bag, throwing it into the portal. He then grabbed Val Rador, taking care not to hurt a hair on the man¡¯s head. Taking the Godkiller out of its sheath, he threw Val Rador into the portal. Monster placed his hand on the bar¡¯s counter. Took a deep breath, then severed his elbow from the rest of his body. The arm didn¡¯t fall to the floor. Instead, it grabbed onto the bar¡¯s countertop. But Monster paid the independent arm no attention. He watched as slivers of metal grew out of his wound, silver growing into a forearm, five fingers, a hand. The silver hardened, and changed color. An inhuman smile slipped onto Monster¡¯s lips, as he looked at his new hand. Meanwhile, right next to him, a man was being grown from his severed arm. The arm stood up. It wore Evan¡¯s face. Monster cast a glance at the portal. It closed, and time started up again. A drop of water fell into the bucket. Then another. ¡°Calibrating the time stream,¡± Monster said. ¡°Calibrating the time stream,¡± his arm replied. Monster burst out the door, running where Val was supposed to run, on the sidewalk, where George would soon be chasing him. George was chasing him, and so Monster ran. ¡°What are you, crazy?¡± a driver yelled, but not at Monster. ¡°Val!¡± George yelled, somewhere behind Monster. ¡°Val, how could you?¡± Monster didn¡¯t turn around. No emotion on his face, no moment where he asked for forgiveness. He paused for half a second. Then he ran. *BANG* *CRASH* George missed. The window to Evan¡¯s bar shattered. *BANG* *CRACK* George missed again. Brick cracked. A pause, and then another gunshot. *BANG* Monster got hit in the calf. It wasn¡¯t enough to affect his ability to run. In fact, it was just what he wanted. He turned the corner, which gave him roughly thirteen seconds until anyone would see him. He fell down in the alleyway, absorbing the bullet and breaking it down in his bloodstream. The skin on his calf healed, while a piece of skin on his chest concaved. Another piece of skin on his chest concaved. Then one on his head. The concaved pieces of flesh broke, bits of blood spilling out. The metal from the bullet in his calf ¡ª combined with the metal that composed his body ¡ª solidified into three small bullets: one placed in his head, the other two in his chest. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it All the while, the Godkiller sword was absorbed into his hand. The metal broke down into its resilient bits, becoming one with Monster. George turned the corner. Sirens wailed. Monster wanted to smile. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª For twelve hours, Monster didn¡¯t open his eyes. He didn¡¯t breathe, he didn¡¯t look, he didn¡¯t move. By all reasonable modes of detection, he didn¡¯t seem to be alive. Problem was, he thought. And he listened. The police had declared him dead at the scene. They¡¯d him carried off in a truck, bringing him straight to the morgue, where they¡¯d wanted to get an autopsy done. Lusu had refused. ¡°You know he¡¯s dead,¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯s what matters.¡± They¡¯d argued some more, going back and forth. But ultimately they couldn¡¯t do anything without Lusu¡¯s permission. So they didn¡¯t. Lusu left and the cops left and Monster lay in the morgue for two more hours, before he was carted off to the funeral home. He lay there for another three hours in the darkness; closed casket. All was going according to plan: 92% chance of success. The man at the pulpit said, ¡°Val Rador was a good man, a kind man. Val Rador was¡­ He was¨C¡± With the way that the man stuttered, Monster calculated a drop in the likelihood of success: 89%. ¡°It¡¯s a little late to get the soul, isn¡¯t it, Angel?¡± With the Angel¡¯s involvement, success rate dropped to 54%. ¡°You snivelling, incompetent worm,¡± the Angel of Death roared. ¡°That man isn¡¯t dead.¡± 33% Monster recalibrated his plans. ¡°Well, uh. You are the expert, Angel. But I¡¯d like to point out that he seemed pretty dead the last we¨C uh, saw of him.¡± Monster switched to X-Ray vision. There were a lot of people here, but not so many as you¡¯d expect for the funeral of a hero. That said, most of the people didn¡¯t know who Val had really been. This also wasn¡¯t a real funeral; there was no hero in the casket. The Angel of Death flapped her great big wings, approaching the casket. Monster curled his fists into balls. As the Angel of Death¡¯s feet reached the floor, Monster broke through the casket. *CRACK* He broke through it. He and the Angel of Death fought. When everything was over ¡ª when the Angel of Death had ripped his head from his body, walking through the pillar of light that led to her home of sorts ¡ª he knew everything he needed to know. He could hurt her with the beams of his eyes. Her wings in particular were a weak point. And here was where the dead were laid to rest. The Angel of Death raised the head, facing the massive skull on one of the walls of her abode. Her home was a strange place ¡ª filled with cobwebs and made of stone. It looked like a plane belonging to another reality. The skull on the wall opened its jaw, sound emitting from it, though Monster couldn¡¯t tell where from. It didn¡¯t have lips or a tongue, but still it spoke: ¡°This is not a soul.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a perversion,¡± the Angel of Death replied. ¡°I found it in a coffin.¡± ¡°It looks like your lover.¡± ¡°It does,¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯s who it was imitating.¡± The wires dangling from Monster¡¯s neck suddenly grew longer. ¡°What is this?¡± the skull roared. No matter; the metal began to wrap itself around the Angel of Death, specifically tightening itself around her wings. She struggled to get free, but it was no use. Two more pieces of metal sprung from Monster¡¯s neck. He used them to balance himself on the floor. Another piece of metal grabbed the Angel of Death¡¯s wrist, pulling her hand away from Monster¡¯s head. Monster turned his gaze towards the Angel of Death. With a blink, a baby blue portal opened up behind the Angel. With his metal arms, he pushed her towards it, but she resisted. Beams left his eyes, striking her right wing. The impact pushed her through the portal. Monster grew a new body, using the metal from his various newly-grown appendages. Then, he turned to look at the skull. ¡°You are Death, gateway to Life,¡± Monster said. ¡°The Skull that leads to the other side of the Celestial Wall. Now, I break the Celestial Wall. The new gods are here. They¡¯re here to destroy the old.¡± ¡°Good,¡± the skull said. ¡°I¡¯ve been at this a long time. It¡¯ll be good to have someone else take the reins.¡± Monster smiled as the skull began to open for him. He was surprised that the skull was making things easy, but he wasn¡¯t about to complain. He was ready for the light of death, which would ironically lead to life. He was ready to create the future for his masters. Light poured out of the skull. He began to feel a burning sensation, all over his body. Chance of success: 82%. His body was being disintegrated by the skull¡¯s divine light. 73% The metal of his body grew, trying to compensate for the loss, but it couldn¡¯t grow quickly enough 65% He walked closer to the light, which only consumed him more. 54% The light was outpacing his own ability to create. 43% His metallic skin began to boil. 22% If he could just reach the light. If he could just crack the wall. 13% Major systems began to shut down. Chance of success was unknown. In the light of the Celestial Wall, Monster perished. Many miles away, Monster¡¯s arm felt the loss, halfway through pouring a drink to one of his customers. Standing in Evan¡¯s bar, he began to recalibrate the plan. --- --- --- Author''s Note: That''s the end of the second interlude! If you don''t feel like waiting for the next chapter, the rest of the story has already been posted on my site. Click here for Chapter 3.1. 3.1 Dragon bones peeked over the horizon. Waves crashed along the shore. I was glad everyone in the car could be silent. I was glad I could hear the hum of the car¡¯s engine. The car¡¯s hum and the ocean¡¯s waves were soothing, two droning sounds with just enough variation to be interesting. The road we were on was surprisingly smooth. Wasn¡¯t too far from the beach. If we stopped the car and got out, it would only take us a minute or two to reach the water. I opened the window, sticking my head out. Lusu glanced at my reflection in the side mirror, then smiled. ¡°Having fun?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, appreciating the smell of salt in the air. It wasn¡¯t my nose, but goddamn if it couldn¡¯t smell just the same. I looked back at the dragon bones. I¡¯d seen Val kill a dragon, once. In fact, I think I¡¯d seen Val kill this dragon. There was something beautiful about it ¡ª the metal dragon bones, I mean. I wasn¡¯t surprised they¡¯d been left here. They gleamed, reflected the light of day. Even in defeat, the Death Cult managed to create something interesting. ¡°I came across a dragon, once,¡± The Hero said, sitting in the front passenger seat. ¡°When?¡± I asked. ¡°Long ago, now,¡± he said. ¡°When I was a kid, if you can believe it.¡± ¡°If I can¡¯t?¡± Lusu asked. The Hero ignored her. ¡°Oh, it was scary. Let me tell you. Those Death Cultists ¡ª well, they came up with some scary shit. Hope you don¡¯t mind me saying that, Lusu, but it¡¯s true.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a point of pride,¡± she said. ¡°For you or the cult?¡± I asked. ¡°The two weren¡¯t so dissimilar, once,¡± she said. ¡°And now?¡± I asked. ¡°I¡¯m with you, aren¡¯t I?¡± And we¡¯re taking you right back there, I thought. Figuring it best not to push the point, I said, ¡°Yeah.¡± Still, she¡¯d left the Death Cult a long time ago. I¡¯d expected some sort of fear on her face ¡ª some sort of misery at being dragged back into the past. I didn¡¯t see any of that. In fact, she looked at peace. That could¡¯ve been a misinterpretation, though. I never was able to tell exactly what Lusu was thinking ¡ª how exactly she was feeling. ¡°The dragon,¡± Lusu said, looking at Hero. ¡°What?¡± he asked. ¡°Oh, right. The dragon. I was pretty young at the time: barely a teenager. And I¡¯d decided to go for a long walk, to clear my head and think about my future.¡± ¡°You¡¯d just talked to an Elf Lady?¡± I asked. ¡°Er, yeah,¡± he said. Of course he had. That¡¯s what people always did, when thinking about their future. How could they not? ¡°This was a long time ago, when they were still testing out the concept of dragons,¡± The Hero said. ¡°They knew it worked,¡± she said. ¡°They were probably testing out the execution.¡± Didn¡¯t she mean we? Though actually, if The Hero had been a young teenager, she would¡¯ve been a baby at best ¡ª probably not even that. Her parents would¡¯ve been involved, though. ¡°Whatever they were doing,¡± The Hero said, ¡°was ugly. Smaller than you¡¯d expect a dragon to be these days, but still terrifying for a kid who hadn¡¯t had to think about end-of-the-world scenarios.¡± ¡°Until the Elf Lady had told you you had to kill the gods,¡± I said. ¡°Yeah,¡± he said, ¡°until that happened.¡± Yet another silence blanketed the car, and I felt bad. But how do you ignore something like that? How do you not talk about the life and death stuff? It¡¯s all around you ¡ª all the time, every minute of every day. Why do people waste their time talking about the little things? ¡°I assume it¡¯s safe to say that the dragon didn¡¯t kill you,¡± Lusu said. ¡°Am I wrong?¡± ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re not.¡± ¡°But you didn¡¯t kill him,¡± she said. ¡°No,¡± The Hero said. ¡°I hid in the bushes while he flew right over me.¡± ¡°Smart man,¡± she said. ¡°The thing had an awful laugh, I¡¯ve got to tell you,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s been a lot of years since then, but I can still hear it howling in the night.¡± ¡°Laughing like a hyena,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± he said. ¡°I never understood what something so terrible could find so funny.¡± I turned my head, looking back at the dragon bones, wondering what sort of bones I¡¯d leave. If the world ended, I might not leave any bones at all. Something about the idea terrified me, but something else told me to relax. If the world ends, nothing ever really mattered, did it? I smiled. Just barely stopped myself from laughing. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª There was a town in front of the dragon bones. A town, and a lady playing solitaire. She abandoned the cards as soon as she saw us, tilting her head up. It was an odd scene, her smile wide as we rolled up to her. Lusu drove onto a patch of grass, parked the car, and got out. The Hero and I followed her. In a minute we reached the lady, sitting in a chair, next to a thick oak table. ¡°Well, Sugah,¡± the lady said, long white hair reaching her hips, pale blue skin barely contrasting with the white pieces of pigment rolling around her flesh. ¡°You sure do have an interesting sense of timing. Who are these two?¡± Lusu looked at us. ¡°An elf and a human. Not particularly interesting.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯re not being fair,¡± the lady said. ¡°It always took so much to interest you, what with your wandering mind and all.¡± ¡°I suppose you¡¯re right,¡± Lusu said. ¡°I know I am.¡± Lusu changed course: ¡°Interesting sense of timing?¡± ¡°Your mother¡¯s dead¡± ¡°Pity,¡± Lusu said. The lack of emotion in her voice surprised me. ¡°Pity?¡± ¡°I was hoping to ask a favor of her,¡± Lusu said. ¡°That¡¯ll be difficult, given the situation,¡± the Hyalu said. ¡°Of course.¡± ¡°What were you hoping to ask?¡± ¡°Little point asking if I can¡¯t get an answer,¡± Lusu said. ¡°You couldn¡¯t ask someone else?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not inclined to.¡± Lusu and the lady bounced back and forth. I watched web of intrigue get spun before my very eyes. ¡°Well then,¡± the Hyalu said, standing up and smiling at Lusu. ¡°It¡¯s good to see you again. Feels like nothing¡¯s changed.¡± ¡°Nothing ever does,¡± she said. ¡°About your mother¡¯s death,¡± the lady said. ¡°Yes?¡± ¡°The cult is one member short.¡± ¡°You¡¯re saying I should rejoin?¡± ¡°Why ask for a favor when you can get it yourself?¡± ¡°Wise point.¡± ¡°Nothing ever changes,¡± the lady said, smiling. Without saying a word, the Hyalu turned and began to walk away. Lusu followed, so The Hero and I followed, too. We passed under the great big dragon bones, making our way through the ribs. It was strange, but things didn¡¯t seem so bad in the dragon¡¯s chest. It looked more like a piece of art than anything. Neither Lusu nor the lady seemed to even notice it. Having passed through the dragon bones, we reached a ship. It was big ¡ª probably big enough to fit a hundred people. It was docked on the shore. We walked onto the dock, then stepped onto the ship. Inside, it was terrible: a kaleidoscope of carnal pleasures, with pop music blaring on the speakers and a couple of gambling tables set up. It reminded me too much of Demersi¡¯s Sins. It reminded me of all the blood. The center of the action was at the roulette table, where a broad-shouldered Hyalu with short silver hair stood, laughing. ¡°Anlu¡¯ll be happy to see you again,¡± the lady said. ¡°I know,¡± Lusu responded. Sure enough, we walked towards the roulette table. When we got there, the broad-shouldered silver-haired Hyalu did look happy. He smiled wide, then turned to hug Lusu. ¡°How¡¯s my baby?¡± he asked. ¡°Old,¡± she replied. ¡°Take it from your father,¡± Anlu said. ¡°Age is just a number.¡± ¡°Speaking of, how many shots?¡± ¡°Oh, you always were no fun,¡± he said, looking at the roulette table. ¡°Can¡¯t you see I¡¯m playing?¡± I looked at the table, not entirely sure what he meant. It was your typical roulette table, a green felt table with half the numbers black and the other half red. And there was the roulette wheel, much as I would have expected. But people had placed shot glasses on some of the numbers. I noticed that there weren¡¯t any chips on the table. ¡°I can¡¯t tell if you¡¯re good at living or dying,¡± Lusu said, which made me pause. I hadn¡¯t realized that was one of those truisms she threw out, whenever it suited her. I noticed a shadow from the corner of my eyes and turned around. A Hyalu stood there, carrying a tray of rainbow shots. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. ¡°Friends of Lusu,¡± he said. ¡°Sure,¡± I replied. ¡°Would you care for a drink?¡± he¡¯d ask. ¡°Two, if you can spare it,¡± I said, taking a blue shot and knocking it back. ¡°An elf who knows how to live,¡± the waiter said, a bit of a smirk on his face. ¡°Always nice to see.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, wishing he hadn¡¯t said that. I picked up a second blue shot, knocking it back. ¡°And you?¡± the waiter asked, looking at The Hero and smiling. ¡°More of a beer man myself,¡± he said, laughing a little bit and patting me on the back. I took a third shot and knocked it back. The waiter gave a bit of an awkward laugh, walking away. ¡°You really are a party animal,¡± The Hero said. ¡°Hope you don¡¯t see any puke in your future.¡± Future? My future¡¯s shit. ¡°I¡¯ve seen enough puke to last me a lifetime,¡± The Hero continued. ¡°Perils of living in a bar, you know.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t imagine,¡± I mumbled. My stomach didn¡¯t feel right. I didn¡¯t feel right. I looked at the floor, with its repeating diamond pattern. In each of the diamonds, there was an ouroboros. Snake after snake, all of them eating their own damn tails. My heart didn¡¯t feel right, either. Too fast. Was that shit poison? No, it tasted just like alcohol, and everyone around me seemed fine. ¡°I came to ask a favor,¡± Lusu said. I turned around, and saw her talking to Anlu. ¡°With Mom gone, it¡¯s a little more complicated.¡¯ ¡°Big problem?¡± Anlu asked. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Well?¡± ¡°It¡¯s my husband.¡± ¡°Bastard,¡± Anlu said. ¡°I was hoping you¡¯d say that,¡± she said. ¡°I need him dead.¡± ¡°How?¡± ¡°He¡¯s a big problem.¡± ¡°And?¡± ¡°We need to create a dragon to kill him, or at least slow him down.¡± ¡°Sounds a bit like overkill doesn¡¯t it? Summoning a dragon to kill one man?¡± he asked. Pausing to consider, he said, ¡°Then again, maybe one dragon isn¡¯t enough. He¡¯s already killed a couple of ours.¡± ¡°He¡¯s become a big problem,¡± she said. ¡°I was hoping to get a big dragon.¡± ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± ¡°It¡¯s complicated.¡± ¡°So¡¯s what you¡¯re asking for. We¡¯re going through a bit of a transitional period right now.¡± ¡°You need another cultist,¡± Lusu said. ¡°Exactly. You want to fill the spot?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure,¡± Lusu said. ¡°Your mother left us at a bad time,¡± he said. Lusu looked like she wasn¡¯t sure what to say, so I interjected. ¡°How do you play?¡± ¡°Excuse me?¡± Anlu asked me. ¡°The game. The roulette game. I know how to play, but what¡¯s with the shots?¡± ¡°Your elf friend¡¯s oddly inquisitive,¡± Anlu said, wearing a bit of a smile. ¡°She¡¯s not your typical elf,¡± Lusu replied. ¡°Inquisitive is good,¡± he said. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t have been able to perfect the dragon ritual without some degree of inquisition.¡± ¡°Curiosity is an annoying quality that you both share,¡± Lusu said, smiling. ¡°Be nice,¡± he said. ¡°The smartest Hyalu the world has ever seen is trying to do you a favor. The least you could do is be nice.¡± Lusu rolled her eyes. ¡°We play it the same as everyone else, but today I decided we¡¯d bet with booze, instead of money,¡± Anlu said. ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± he said. The waiter came over again, and Anlu beckoned him with his finger. ¡°Put it on my account,¡± he said, taking two green shots and placing them on 32 Red. The dealer placed his hand on the roulette wheel, spinning it one way. Then he placed the white ball on the black circle surrounding the wheel. He pushed the ball so that it spun in the other direction. And so the two spun, back and forth, making me feel dizzier and dizzier. Around and around, such a small chance of winning. My head really wasn¡¯t feeling good. Could you really predict where the little white ball would land? Or was part of the fun in knowing that there was no real way to know? If I was a real elf I would know. Would I want to? Wasn¡¯t I a real elf? The white ball landed on 11 Black. ¡°What now?¡± I asked. ¡°I lost, so the House gets to drink my drinks.¡± ¡°That sucks,¡± I said. Anlu smiled, practically giggling as he reached over the table and picked up one of the green shots. ¡°Not if you cheat.¡± He kicked it back. Lusu looked at him. ¡°I¡¯m renting the ship, and I bought all the liqour in it. I¡¯m only stealing from myself.¡± Lusu changed the subject: ¡°I¡¯m sorry Mom didn¡¯t escape. How¡¯d it happen?¡± ¡°She took someone else from the clutches of the Angel of Death,¡± he said. ¡°We¡¯d talked to the Elf Ladies, and they figured the Angel of Death would be particularly busy that day. So we agreed to take an elf and help it escape the cycle of death, before the Angel of Death could do anything about it. But the Elf Ladies were wrong, and the Angel of Death came early. Took your mother, so she could be reborn.¡± ¡°And this party?¡± Lusu asked. ¡°Figured the Death Cult could use a pick-me-up.¡± I¡¯d told a man to kill himself. That didn¡¯t bother me, though. I said what I meant: I envied him. I envied the fact that his fate wasn¡¯t too desperately sealed. ¡°I could probably kill Coraline,¡± Lusu said. ¡°If I did, could I take her place instead?¡± ¡°We¡¯d still need another Hyalu to fill your mother¡¯s place.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure you could find one,¡± Lusu said. ¡°And really, who would you rather be in the cult? Coraline or me?¡± It really didn¡¯t bother me ¡ª what I¡¯d done back at Demersi¡¯s Sins. I was fine with the fact that I¡¯d told him to kill himself. Death was an escape. Death was something he¡¯d wanted to do. Death was something I wanted to do. The Angel of Death was so beautiful. How could anyone hate her? I loved her. She¡¯d been good to me, ever since I was little. Anlu shook his head. ¡°You doubt my capabilities?¡± Lusu asked. ¡°It¡¯s been a lot of years since you left.¡± ¡°I learned a lot while I was gone.¡± ¡°So did Coraline.¡± ¡°Without you this cult would¡¯ve been run into the ground by now.¡± ¡°Coraline¡¯s gotten better at magic since you knew her.¡± ¡°She always hated me.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not true.¡± ¡°What do you want me to do. Talk to her?¡± ¡°It couldn¡¯t hurt,¡± he said. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t be so sure.¡± ¡°It won¡¯t kill you,¡± he said. I¡¯d told a man to kill himself. I really wasn¡¯t feeling well. ¡°I¡¯ve got to step outside for a moment,¡± I said. ¡°You feeling alright?¡± The Hero asked. ¡°Fine,¡± I said. ¡°Great. Couldn¡¯t be better.¡± I pushed him to the side a little bit as I moved towards the door. He followed me anyway. ¡°You went pretty hard back there,¡± he said, as I pushed open the door and made my way to the railings. ¡°Life¡¯s hard,¡± I said. ¡°The intoxication has to be even harder, ain¡¯t that something?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± The Hero said. I leaned against the railing, looking down at the clear blue water. It wasn¡¯t even nighttime yet. How did these Hyalu live like this? ¡°What do you think?¡± I asked. ¡°What do I think of what?¡± ¡°Of all this,¡± I said, throwing my arm in the air. ¡°The Death Cult?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Not what I expected.¡± ¡°Me either. I mean, neither,¡± I said. As a writer, I knew the fucking difference. ¡°They¡¯re so fuckin¡¯ happy.¡± ¡°Guess it feels good to believe in reincarnation, even if you do believe it¡¯s some shitty never-ending cycle.¡± ¡°Why would Lusu leave¨C¡± I¡¯d told a man to kill himself. A man was fucking dead, and it was all my fault. I smelled like death, didn¡¯t I? It followed me wherever I went, a cloud above my head, an albatross around my neck. I¡¯d never escape it. Some deep part of me might not want to have escaped it. I helped a god die. And now I¡¯ve killed a man. When does it end? Maybe it never ended. Maybe this was who I was. I puked over the side of the railing. The Hero shook his head, sighing. ¡°That¡¯s not a surprise.¡± --- --- --- Author''s Note: That''s the end of Chapter 3.1! If you don''t feel like waiting for the next chapter, the rest of the story has already been posted on my site. Click here for Chapter 3.2. 3.2 I dreamed. It was a better way of living. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª Sitting in the car, watching the fields of wheat passed us by, I thought about life. Six months had passed since he and I had returned from our adventures. Hostem was dead, the world was safe, and the government couldn¡¯t get enough of Val. Of course, not too many people knew exactly what we¡¯d done, and how we¡¯d done it. Some knew bits and pieces, but the killing of Hostem? Only Val and I had been there for that. ¡°How¡¯s the book going?¡± Val asked. ¡°Good,¡± I said, sitting in the passenger seat of his car. We were getting close to the Death Cult, but somehow that didn¡¯t bother me. After everything Val and I had been through, a group of cultists didn¡¯t seem that bad. The sound of ocean waves could be heard not too far in the distance. The car sped along a narrow dirt road, surrounded on either side by fields of wheat. This was a government job: kill a dragon the Death Cult had created, and then the government would make you filthy fucking rich. It was strange, since they hadn¡¯t payed Val for the assassination of a god. But then again, that hadn¡¯t been done for them. That¡¯d been Val¡¯s destiny. Or my brother¡¯s. It was hard to keep track, sometimes. ¡°How far along are you?¡± he asked. ¡°Not very,¡± I lied. ¡°Still stuck in the early-goings.¡± ¡°You¡¯ll make me look good, right? Just like we agreed?¡± Val said, smiling. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°Soon as I can figure out how to get the words on the page.¡± ¡°This should curb your writer¡¯s block,¡± he said, ¡°getting to see the action again. Sometimes you¡¯re so stuck in your own mind. It can¡¯t be good for you. No, a little observation is what you need.¡± ¡°Thanks,¡± I said. ¡°I appreciate it.¡± A dragon came into our line of sight. It was big, like nothing I¡¯d ever seen before. Great silver wings flapped, keeping it in the air. It had a bright silver body. Looked like a sword in the sky. It turned to look at us, and suddenly I felt less confident. ¡°Go in the other direction,¡± he said, parking the car. ¡°Hide in the fields and stay there.¡± I shot out of the car, not even closing the door as I leaped into the wheat field. My heart pounded. This wasn¡¯t the plan. I wasn¡¯t supposed to get so close to the action. I¡¯d told myself my adventuring days were behind me, but I supposed I had one last great adventure, after all. I peaked through the wheat, curiosity getting the better part of me. Somehow, things seemed less terrifying when you at least understood the basic situation. The dragon still flew towards the car. I heard the sound of laughter, but didn¡¯t see the dragon¡¯s jaw moving. The dragon got close to the car. Seeing that we weren¡¯t in it, it angled upwards, just narrowly avoiding the thing. Val ran out of the wheat, throwing himself onto the hood of the car. I noticed the dragon¡¯s tail for the first time. At the very end was a small human-shaped head. It laughed. Val grabbed onto the head just in time to get yanked into the air. I waited in the wheat fields, staying silent for two hours. An odd feeling sat in my stomach. On the one hand, I wanted him to win. After everything he¡¯d been through ¡ª after everything he¡¯d fought for ¡ª I felt like he deserved to win. But how good would his life be after all this? Sure, he¡¯d have wealth beyond his wildest imagination. And that¡¯s not nothing ¡ª that¡¯s a big something. But what would challenge him? What would make life worth living for him? If a good life was one that had joys and challenges in equal measure, what could possibly challenge him after he¡¯d killed a god? If he died, I wouldn¡¯t have to worry about his reaction to the book. That¡¯s really what I cared about, wasn¡¯t it? His life was his own. I wished him happiness but I didn¡¯t plead for it. The real worry was for my own life. He¡¯d killed a god, and I wanted to piss him off? Near the end of the second hour, I felt a bit of relief. He¡¯s probably dead, I told myself. That¡¯s when he appeared before me, covered in black dragon blood. ¡°It¡¯s done,¡± he said, reaching his hand out to lift me up. ¡°We¡¯re going home.¡± Val drove us home. The whole time, I couldn¡¯t help but notice the glimmer of joy in his eyes. When I got out of the car, on the way back to my place, he asked, ¡°Any idea what you¡¯re going to name the book?¡± Godkiller, I thought. ¡°No idea,¡± I lied. It was the second-to-last time I¡¯d see Val, at least for the next forty years. It was the last time I¡¯d ever see him think of me as a friend. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª I woke up. Something was in my mouth. Spat it out. Opened my eyes, seeing dead skin. I put my foreign hand on my face. Dead skin sloughed off. This time it was more annoying, less horrifying. There was something comforting in that, actually. The first time I¡¯d been frightened. But now that I knew what was going on, I was just ticked off. I groaned. A couple seconds later, a door clicked. I opened my eyes, immediately regretting it. The rush of light burned. I closed my eyes again, allowing me to focus on the fact that I was a nail and life seemed to be a hammer. ¡°I hope you had fun last night,¡± Lusu¡¯s voice said. Groaned some more: ¡°Define ¡®fun¡¯.¡± ¡°Given what I saw last night, it might involve embarrassing yourself, not to mention embarrassing me. Or perhaps it just means being an idiot.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve no bedside manner,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t feel well.¡± ¡°Which is entirely of your own doing,¡± she said. ¡°Why would you ever leave a place like this?¡± I asked, opening my eyes again and looking at her. The light still burned, but not closing my eyes again felt like a point of pride. ¡°You mean the Death Cult?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°Honestly?¡± she said. ¡°Dragon bones get boring after a while. I wanted to see the world, and Val promised something new, something interesting.¡± ¡°So you left for him.¡± ¡°Sure,¡± she said. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t you? Tall, strong man. A man unlike anything you¡¯d ever seen, with fire in his eyes and a mysterious past. How could I resist?¡± ¡°He was something,¡± I said. ¡°I miss him, even though I hate him.¡± She shook her head, a small smile spreading across her face. ¡°I know the feeling.¡± ¡°How¡¯d you meet him?¡± ¡°Covered in blood,¡± she said. I let out a bit of a laugh. ¡°Sounds like Val.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± she said. ¡°It does.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry I embarrassed you,¡± I said. ¡°That stuff at Demersi¡¯s¡­ It was,¡± I searched for the words. How did you even talk about this sort of thing? How did you talk about life and death, without the awful silence that so often followed? ¡°Rough,¡± she said. ¡°I can¡¯t stop thinking about it,¡± I replied. ¡°It was just so damn rough.¡± ¡°I know.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t know what it means, or what I should think. I told a guy why he should kill himself. I told him he should kill himself.¡± ¡°You were being honest,¡± she said. ¡°What?¡± ¡°What you did?¡± Lusu said. ¡°It was awful. You told a man to kill himself, and he did. But you said what you thought, and it saved you, me, and The Hero. It was a hard situation, but you were honest and you saved people.¡± ¡°It doesn¡¯t feel good.¡± ¡°I can imagine,¡± she said. ¡°Are you going to be alright to mingle today?¡± ¡°No,¡± I said, turning around and burying my head in the pillow. ¡°What¡¯s your plan for today, then?¡± she asked. ¡°Ostracize yourself forever? Wallow in the self-pity? I understand your pain, George. But I somehow doubt this will help you.¡± I sighed. ¡°What do you mean when you say mingle?¡± ¡°The Death Cult is a democracy,¡± she said. I took my head out of the pillow, turning to look at her: ¡°It¡¯s a democracy, you can come and go whenever you want, there¡¯s no overly influential leader. Why is it even called a cult?¡± ¡°An overly eager journalist,¡± she said, as drolly as the Hyalu voice would allow. ¡°Though I¡¯ll confess, every organization has both good times and bad.¡± ¡°What does that¨C¡± ¡°Point is,¡± she went on, ¡°the Death Cult is a democracy, with particular roles filled by people who¡¯ve been voted in. My mother¡¯s dead, and someone needs to fill the position.¡± ¡°You want to fill it.¡± ¡°I need to fill it,¡± she said. ¡°At least, I need to fill it if we want to send a dragon after Val.¡± She was right, but at that point I cared less. If she wanted to join the Death Cult again, that was her prerogative. Especially since they didn¡¯t even seem all that bad. Still, something else was bothering me: ¡°You talk about your mother¡¯s death as if it doesn¡¯t matter.¡± ¡°She¡¯ll be back,¡± Lusu said. ¡°Truth be told, I¡¯m sorry she didn¡¯t escape.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t miss her?¡± ¡°She¡¯s out there,¡± Lusu said. ¡°She¡¯ll find her way back, someday, somehow. I¡¯m asking if you¡¯re okay to mingle, because I need to gain the Hyalu¡¯s trust. They¡¯re somewhat impressed by me, since I have a knowledge of the world. But they don¡¯t know me much, anymore, and your colorful display last night didn¡¯t exactly instill confidence. They need to know I¡¯m right for the cult.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°Talk to the Hyalu, get to know them. Let them know how trustworthy I am.¡± This, I thought, is going to be a long day. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª I stood on the deck of the ship, Bloody Mary soothing my hangover. My elf body still felt uncomfortable, but it was getting better. Feeling the sun shining on my face, I actually felt better than I¡¯d felt in a while. Maybe life wasn¡¯t so bad after all. The Sun was a bit too bright, sure. But that was okay. I was sweaty, but smiling. The Hero stood next to me, also smiling, as the old Hyalu spoke to us. You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version. ¡°I used to be a boxer,¡± Nawlins said, his eyes lit with a dimming fire, white pigment swirling around his knuckles. They didn¡¯t flow like usual Hyalu pigmentation. Instead, they spun in a circular motion, focused specifically around each of the knuckles. When a Hyalu got bruised badly enough, that happened ¡ª the white pigment hung there, spinning til death. ¡°That was a long time ago, though.¡± ¡°What do you do now?¡± I asked. ¡°Odd jobs,¡± he said, his voice gravelled. He wasn¡¯t quite punch drunk, but he was distanced. Like getting knocked in the head all those times had taken something from him, and he couldn¡¯t get it back. ¡°People always need a fighter. Though maybe not, you know. I hear there aren¡¯t s¡¯posed to be anymore dragons. Maybe¡­¡± he drifted off. ¡°What?¡± I asked. ¡°Hm?¡± he said. ¡°Oh, uh. Nothin¡¯. Just wonderin¡¯ about the future.¡± The Hero jumped into the conversation, after having not said anything for a while: ¡°I met a dragon once. Real scary thing, lemme tell ya.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± Nawlins slapped The Hero on the arm a couple times, looking into the distance, not even seeming to notice us anymore. ¡°That¡¯s nice. That¡¯s nice.¡± He walked away, leaving The Hero and I standing there. ¡°You¡¯ve got to stop telling that story,¡± I told The Hero. I took another sip of Blood Mary. The salty spiced flavor sat well on my tongue. ¡°Why?¡± he asked. ¡°It¡¯s not a good story?¡± ¡°These Hyalu are interested in death,¡± I said, making my way to the ship¡¯s railing. The Hero followed. ¡°You being afraid of their own creation isn¡¯t going to impress them.¡± ¡°I guess you¡¯ve got a point,¡± The Hero said, leaning on the railing next to me. ¡°Didn¡¯t really think about it, to be honest.¡± ¡°Of course you didn¡¯t,¡± I said. ¡°You haven¡¯t ever had to impress someone. Intimidate, maybe. But never impress.¡± He sighed. ¡°I guess you¡¯re right.¡± ¡°You¡¯ve got some stories they¡¯d be very interested in,¡± I said. ¡°Don¡¯t say it¨C¡± ¡°You killed gods,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s fascinating. They¡¯ll eat it up.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t like talking about that,¡± he said. ¡°Bad time of my life.¡± ¡°Take it from a journalist,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s what the people want to hear.¡± ¡°You¡¯re an Elf Guard,¡± he said. ¡°You can¡¯t be a journalist and an Elf Guard.¡± ¡°It¡¯s a long story,¡± I replied. ¡°Point is, if you tell the Hyalu about how you killed gods, you¡¯ll have their interest more. They¡¯ll like you. Gods wanted to kill most living things and start over, so you killed most of the gods? That¡¯s a story for the books.¡± The Hero¡¯s cheeks reddened a little, as he looked out at the sea. ¡°You want to hear the story, not them.¡± ¡°We all do,¡± I said. ¡°Not me,¡± he said. ¡°I don¡¯t want to think about it, ever again.¡± The waves lapped against the boat¡¯s hull. ¡°It¡¯s not morbid curiosity,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s not why I want to hear your story.¡± The Hero chuckled. ¡°Sure.¡± ¡°I¡­ I have a personal interest in the death of the gods.¡± ¡°You, and every other bum from here to the Celestial Wall,¡± The Hero said. ¡°Everybody asking me what it was like, everybody asking me if I was proud of what I did.¡± ¡°More personal than that,¡± I said. ¡°I was there when Blake Reinor killed Hostem.¡± The Hero chewed on his lip, and by extension the thought. He glanced at me, then back towards the town. ¡°Don¡¯t remember reading about an elf being there when Hostem died.¡± ¡°An elf wasn¡¯t there,¡± I said. He gave me another look, like he didn¡¯t even believe I was standing next to him. ¡°You¡¯re disconnected from your timeline, aren¡¯t you?¡± The Hero asked. I took in a deep breath of fresh air. Almost took a sip of Bloody Mary, but I doubted that would help any. ¡°Not really. Well, yes. It¡¯s complicated.¡± ¡°I knew it,¡± he said. ¡°Knew something was off about you. Does Lusu know?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°Lusu knows.¡± ¡°An elf disconnected from the timestream.¡± I shook my head. ¡°A man.¡± ¡°You¡¯re¨C¡± ¡°A man,¡± I said. ¡°George Royce, to be precise.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not right. No,¡± he said, ¡°You¡¯re an elf, not a man. A weird little elf, but an elf all the same.¡± ¡°Some being put me into this body, taking the elf and putting her in my body.¡± ¡°That can¡¯t happen. What sort of thing could do that?¡± he asked me. ¡°A god,¡± I said. The Hero laughed. ¡°A god? We¡¯ve killed all of them!¡± He said it loud enough to catch the attention of other Hyalu. My heart was starting to beat a little too quickly. You¡¯re a man, no matter what anyone else says, I told myself. You know who you are. ¡°He said he was an unkillable god,¡± I said. ¡°Lemme tell you something,¡± The Hero said. ¡°There¡¯s no such thing.¡± ¡°It was magic,¡± I said. ¡°No,¡± he replied. ¡°These days, we know what magic does. Someone says the right thing or does the right ritual, and there¡¯s a reaction. One thing impacts the other, and it makes sense. But body-swapping? That¡¯s¡­ I¡¯m going to go to my room. To let you clear your head. You need to clear your head, you know. Stop thinking you¡¯re something that you¡¯re not.¡± He stormed off, leaving me there, to the waves and the Death Cult. I shouldn¡¯t have been surprised. No, I decided I wasn¡¯t very surprised at all. Hadn¡¯t people been telling me who I was, year after year, decade after decade? It was hard to decide things like that for yourself. It was so much easier to believe what people told you. That said, wasn¡¯t what I¡¯d been telling myself worse than what other people had been telling me? Wasn¡¯t my own guilt ¡ª my own obsession with the past ¡ª the ultimate problem? I couldn¡¯t escape myself. I couldn¡¯t escape my past. I was a goddamn slave to my own stream of consciousness. Boring. Disgusting. Mad. Death to everyone around me. It¡¯d been that way since the Angel of Death had seen me in the car crash. Maybe it¡¯d been destiny since before I¡¯d even been born. Couldn¡¯t I ask more? Wasn¡¯t there something better than all this? I remembered Hostem¡¯s last breath. I remembered Stellavia¡¯s stars pour out her back. I remembered Demersi, his space suit shot through just like his skull. I remembered too much. I didn¡¯t want to remember anything, anymore. I closed my eyes, listening to the sound of the waves lapping against the boat. I focused on my breath, the present, the now. The sun beating down on the back of my head. My spine curled just a little forward, my shoulders much too hunched. I took slow, deep breaths. Forced my shoulders down. Rolled my neck forward, rolled it back, then rolled it forward again. You are nothing more than the present moment, I thought. You aren¡¯t your past. You have no future. You¡¯re here, now, and that¡¯s all that matters. Maybe it was the Sun, or maybe it was the hangover. Maybe it was my desire to forget, or the culmination of all the shit in my life leading to a psychological break. But whatever it was, in that instant, I felt wholly separated from myself. It wasn¡¯t just a physical thing anymore ¡ª I hadn¡¯t just changed my outer being ¡ª it was psychological. My whole life seemed like little more than a fever dream, a life I felt privileged not to have led. It had haunted some other man, some doomed ghost of a man who couldn¡¯t escape his past. But me? I stood there on that boat, born for the second time. Cool air filled my lungs, and I wondered who I possibly could have been. After all, everyone had a past, and elves had more of a past than most. I liked to think I¡¯d been a good elf: able to scrap when it came right down to it, but rarely needing to. Maybe I¡¯d been a traveling salesman, moving across the world and really being able to appreciate each stop I¡¯d made. I never knew my mother. Probably didn¡¯t know my brother, either, though it pains me to admit that. No, I¡¯d been an orphan, floating through life. I might¡¯ve been a little lonely, but I¡¯d never gotten attached to the wrong people. Better not to get attached to anyone, if you¡¯re going to try and get attached to the wrong people. I¡¯d read Godkiller ¡ª I was plenty literate, after all ¡ª but I¡¯d known better than to want the life of an adventuring hero. No, I was much happier with the way things were, me driving on the open road, selling whatever it was that living creatures were willing to buy. Maybe I sold incense. My mind wandered like that, not really knowing where it was going, plenty content to take a journey without knowing the destination. Eventually, after what didn¡¯t feel like very long at all, I noticed a soft blue hand appear in my periphery. I turned to look and saw a Hyalu standing before me, a pearl bracelet hanging by her wrist, a smile spread across her face. She looked odd, mainly because she didn¡¯t have any white pigment. She was a blank blue slate, a sky without clouds, an ocean without waves. ¡°Look like you¡¯re having a rough morning, sugah,¡± the Hyalu said. ¡°I¡¯m over it, mostly,¡± I said, taking a sip of Bloody Mary. ¡°I always wondered what it was that led some elves to drink so hard,¡± she said. ¡°Good question,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ve been on the road for a lot of years, but I¡¯ve never been able to figure that out.¡± ¡°On the road?¡± she asked. ¡°Traveling salesman. Incense.¡± She smiled. I thought I saw a kindness in her eyes. --- --- --- Author''s Note: That''s the end of Chapter 3.2! If you don''t feel like waiting for the next chapter, the rest of the story has already been posted on my site. Click here for Chapter 3.3. 3.3 ¡°How about you?¡± I asked the Hyalu with the pearl bracelet, standing on the boat¡¯s deck, sipping on a Bloody Mary. ¡°Have any troubles?¡± ¡°Always.¡± She looked out at the ocean, blushing. ¡°This is a really great place, don¡¯t get me wrong. But it¡¯s definitely got its share of troubles, and I seem to get dragged along every time.¡± ¡°All places have problems,¡± I said, not paying all that much attention to what I was saying. ¡°Sorry you get dragged along into them.¡± Instead, I was focused on those gray eyes of hers. There was an intelligence there ¡ª an intelligence, and a kindness. ¡°The sort of troubles here tend to get real bad real quick.¡± It was all about how she was saying what she said, her mouth opening and closing. Her lips were a little chapped, and she would occasionally lick them. Every word pulled me in just a little bit more. Every blink, every breath, every lick. I felt my heart quicken. ¡°Why?¡± I asked. ¡°Dragons.¡± ¡°Dragons,¡± I said, nodding my head. My heart felt ready to pop out of my chest. ¡°Powerful beasts.¡± ¡°Engines of destruction, more like it.¡± She licked her lips. ¡°Nothing to romanticize.¡± ¡°Wasn¡¯t trying to romanticize it,¡± I said. No romance. Not here. Not now. Not with her. ¡°They¡¯re awful, but impressive.¡± ¡°They have to be stopped.¡± ¡°Never expected to hear a Death Cultist talk like that.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t know very much about the Death Cult,¡± she said. ¡°I don¡¯t know much about much,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯d like to know a little more about you.¡± ¡°Is that a come-on?¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t call it that.¡± ¡°You wouldn¡¯t call it that,¡± she said, ¡°but is that what it is?¡± The smirk slipped onto my face. ¡°You¡¯re smart.¡± ¡°And you¡¯re beautiful,¡± she said. The words hit my ears wrong. She continued, ¡°Handsome, actually. Oddly handsome, for a lady.¡± I wondered if she said that because she¡¯d noticed my reaction to ¡®beautiful¡¯. That said, she struck me as honest. I couldn¡¯t doubt that honesty in her eyes. Maybe it was that I didn¡¯t want to. No. It was undeniable. There was an intelligence and a beauty and a kindness in those eyes. She had me, and I felt like the closer I got to her, the happier I¡¯d get. ¡°Do you like handsome ladies?¡± I asked, leaning in close, whispering into her ear. It could¡¯ve just been the surroundings, but I swore she smelled like the ocean. ¡°Yes,¡± she said. ¡°I especially like handsome ladies who like me.¡± I couldn¡¯t stop myself from grinning like some dumb schoolboy. ¡°Looks like you caught one.¡± My head was only two inches from hers. She smiled at me, not saying a word. Instead, she crossed the distance, hooking her lips with mine. I placed my hand on the top of her back, slowly sliding it down her spine. She was a biter. Nearly made my lips bleed. She unhooked herself for a second. ¡°Let¡¯s go to my cabin,¡± she said. I smiled, not saying a word. I didn¡¯t need to. I merely watched her pivot. Followed her, chasing after happiness. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª I flopped onto the left side of the bed, tired. ¡°That was good?¡± I asked. ¡°It was real good, sugah,¡± she replied. This isn¡¯t my body. It wasn¡¯t my body, but damn if it didn¡¯t feel good all the same. The moment was good, too. Laying in the bed, taking deep breaths. The bed didn¡¯t smell like her, but it still smelled good. Like lilacs. Felt like there was no pressure left in my body. No more tension. ¡°What do you think love is?¡± She sounded surprised. ¡°I don¡¯t¨C¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said. ¡°I didn¡¯t mean us. I didn¡¯t mean this. I just mean in general. What do you think of love? What do you think it is?¡± ¡°Well, I don¡¯t know. To tell you the truth, I never really thought about it much.¡± ¡°You never thought about love?¡± ¡°I thought about loving things, sure,¡± she said. ¡°But I never thought about love itself.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s a stupid question.¡± ¡°No. No, I don¡¯t mean to hurt your feelings. It¡¯s just I haven¡¯t thought about it much, you see? No, what you¡¯re saying is good. I just don¡¯t know the answer. Gimme a second to think about it.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± I said. I lay in the bed, closing my eyes. This was just another part of my past that I hadn¡¯t been able to get rid of: that omnipresent love of the question. I wanted to ask ¡°Why?¡± A part of me wanted to know why I was so obsessed with questions. But my better part told me not to. It didn¡¯t matter why I was so obsessed with questions. I just had to stop. Curiosity had been a driving force in my life, and not for the better. It¡¯d led me to so many of the bad things in my life. If I¡¯d just followed the path I was supposed to without questioning it, I might¡¯ve been better off. If only my brother¡¯d followed his path. If only my brother hadn¡¯t had so much goddamn doubt. No. Nevermind. I didn¡¯t even have a brother. If I had I would have loved him, but these days I was an elf without a past. Those memories were figments ¡ª child¡¯s play. Nothing more than the deranged ramblings of some alternate universe lunatic. I was a travelling salesman. I sold incense. The words rang through my mind, forcing and reinforcing themselves. ¡°I think love is respect,¡± she told me. ¡°You look into someone¡¯s eyes and understand them, even if there¡¯s no chance of you ever fully knowing them.¡± ¡°You mean like agreeing to disagree?¡± I asked. ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°Not quite. To love someone you have to know some of the details of who they are. But it¡¯s impossible to know everything. All of us live such long lives, filled with such incident. Compared to a mosquito, we¡¯re almost immortal. So many details happen that can never be shared with another. What I¡¯m saying is, we can never truly know one another, you see?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°I think I do.¡± ¡°The important thing is to understand one another, roughly. Ignore the trees and look at the forest. Be willing to explore the nooks and crannies, admittin¡¯ that you¡¯ll never know everything about the person, but that¡¯s a good thing. That¡¯s where the excitement and the mystery comes from. Why, a person without mystery¡¯s just a sack of meat and bones.¡± ¡°That¡¯s an odd answer,¡± I said. ¡°Odd question, sugah,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m just givin¡¯ you what you asked for.¡± ¡°It¡¯s an odd answer,¡± I said, ¡°but I like it.¡± She smiled. ¡°That¡¯s more what I like hearing.¡± I smiled. ¡°I¡¯d like to get to know you more.¡± ¡°Me too,¡± she said. ¡°Ask me another question.¡± I hesitated. ¡°What?¡± she said. ¡°I promised myself I¡¯d stop asking so many questions.¡± ¡°You haven¡¯t been doing such a good job o¡¯ that,¡± she said, giggling. ¡°No,¡± I said, ¡°I mean I just promised myself that I wouldn¡¯t ask so many questions. Just now.¡± ¡°And why¡¯s that?¡± she asked. ¡°Questions aren¡¯t good,¡± I said. ¡°I always ask the wrong thing at the wrong time.¡± ¡°You learn that during your years on the road?¡± ¡°I learned a lot of things on the road,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s one of them.¡± ¡°Tell me about them.¡± ¡°My years on the road?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± she said. ¡°There¡¯s not so much to tell.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t believe you.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t like dwelling on the past.¡± ¡°For me,¡± she said. ¡°Here and now, just give me a taste of who you are.¡± ¡°I met a man who killed dragons.¡± ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± I said. ¡°Not many men who can do that, but this man did.¡± ¡°How¡¯d you meet him?¡± ¡°Nothing too interesting,¡± I said, lying. ¡°I¡¯d been driving towards the wheat fields ¡ª looking to sell some incense here, actually ¡ª when I came across a hitch-hiker. Big, strong guy with a sword at his side.¡± ¡°Sounds like a dangerous hitch-hiker.¡± ¡°He was,¡± I said. ¡°Not to me, but he was a dangerous man. I knew it, seeing him there, his eyes filled with fire.¡± ¡°But you picked him up anyway.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, giving her a look. ¡°Wouldn¡¯t be a story if you hadn¡¯t picked him up. I don¡¯t have to be a psychic, sugah.¡± ¡°Right,¡± I said. ¡°I picked him up, but he didn¡¯t get the chance to say too much, because before long we¡¯d reached the wheat fields. And rolling through the wheat fields, we saw a dragon high in the sky. It spotted us, there. And when it spotted us, it started flying towards us.¡± When I said that, her eyes widened a little bit. That surprised me. Shouldn¡¯t she be used to the thought of dragons? Hadn¡¯t she summoned them herself? I guessed some things were frightening, no matter your relation to them. ¡°What¡¯d you do?¡± I smiled. ¡°Stopped the car and headed for the wheat. Can you blame me?¡± ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°Not at all.¡± ¡°I hid there for who knows how long. My heart quickened when I peaked through the fields, since the dragon seemed to be getting closer and closer to me. I couldn¡¯t help but ask myself, ¡®Why?¡¯ What could possibly have made him come after me?¡± I continued the lie, ¡°Turned out the dragon wasn¡¯t after me at all. It was after the hitch-hiker. The guy had taken control of the wheel and kept driving the car straight towards the dragon. The two charged at each other.¡± ¡°And then?¡± she asked me. ¡°Then the hitch-hiker jerked the wheel and headed into the wheat fields. I couldn¡¯t see him, but the dragon could. The dragon chased after the car, but it turned out Val had hopped out of it already. He swung his sword upward, getting the dragon straight in the neck.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t know that then, of course,¡± I continued. ¡°No, all I heard was a terrible screeching noise. The dragon seemed to fall to the ground somewhat suddenly. Just a few minutes later, a man walked out of the fields, carrying a head.¡± ¡°And what¡¯d you do?¡± ¡°Wasn¡¯t all that much to do,¡± I said. ¡°Came out of the fields, thanked him for saving my life, even though it seemed like he was partially to blame for endangering it in the first place.¡± ¡°What¡¯d he look like?¡± she asked. ¡°Tall, muscular, covered in black blood ¡ª oil, I guess. He had an arrogant intelligence on his face. You might¡¯ve called it a belligerent wisdom. He was the uncle who wanted you to succeed. Because if he didn¡¯t succeed, he wouldn¡¯t be happy. If he wasn¡¯t happy, he¡¯d whoop your ass.¡± ¡°That¡¯s quite a way to put it.¡± ¡°I¡¯m a writer,¡± I said. ¡°I thought you were a salesman.¡± My heart beat twice before I responded. ¡°I write for fun.¡± ¡°The man,¡± she said. ¡°The man who killed the dragon.¡± ¡°Right,¡± I said. ¡°We drove to the nearest non-Hyalu city. He didn¡¯t want to encounter any of your people, and I understood plenty. After seeing the dragon, I wasn¡¯t sure I wanted to, either.¡± ¡°What was he like, in the car?¡± ¡°Quiet,¡± I said, ¡°unless you really got him going. He gave a couple speeches, but there was no desire to be witty there. No need to prove his verbal intelligence. I don¡¯t know how much he cared about people in general, actually. He might¡¯ve been too obsessed with his ideas.¡± ¡°I can respect him,¡± she said. ¡°Someone who kills dragons? That¡¯s my sort of person.¡± ¡°Seems like a weird thing to say about dragons,¡± I pointed out, ¡°seeing as how you¡¯re part of the organization that creates the things.¡± ¡°I see what you mean,¡± she said, ¡°but I believe the best way to change an organization is from the inside out.¡± ¡°You want to change the Death Cult?¡± ¡°I want it to stop using dragons,¡± she said. ¡°They¡¯re weapons of mass destruction, discriminate but all too destructive. I¡¯d like to think we could solve our problems without them.¡± ¡°I can see how that¡¯d be nice.¡± ¡°I believe in the values at the core of the Death Cult: the Angel of Death is an agent of order and therefore of evil, putting people in the compost bin of death, only to remake them and pluck them out again. It¡¯s awful reincarnation, a circle that¡¯s neverending, never broken.¡± It was interesting, not having people know who I really was. I was fascinated by how we all had these different pasts that were inaccessible. If she¡¯d known who I was and what I¡¯d seen, she probably wouldn¡¯t talk about the Angel of Death that way. ¡°Interesting,¡± was all I said. ¡°You believe in taking down the Angel of Death, but you don¡¯t believe that the dragons are a force of good?¡± ¡°The dragons were just a result of Lusu¡¯s father being too smart for his own good,¡± she said. ¡°He found some old books, then created an awful weapon. That¡¯s not what the Death Cult is about. The Death Cult is about freeing people. That¡¯s what Lusu¡¯s father really wants. Lusu too, I¡¯m sure. But I don¡¯t agree with how they¡¯ve gone about things.¡± ¡°How would you go about things?¡± ¡°Differently,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯d give people the option to escape the cycle of life and death. I¡¯d protect them from the Angel of Death, but only if they wanted to be protected.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not how things are done?¡± ¡°You really don¡¯t know much about your friend, do you?¡± she asked. ¡°Friend?¡± ¡°Lusu,¡± she said. ¡°She didn¡¯t tell you how the Death Cult works?¡± ¡°Not really,¡± I said. ¡°We haven¡¯t known each other long. Met each other through a mutual¡­ friend.¡± ¡°Interesting,¡± she said. ¡°What I¡¯m interested in,¡± I said, ¡°is why you¡¯re telling me all this, when you know my friend wants the position that you¡¯re currently in line to take. If I told everyone what you just told me, I can¡¯t imagine you¡¯d get the position.¡± A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°You¡¯re assuming people would believe you.¡± ¡°I¡¯d be telling them the truth.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll say it again, sugah: you¡¯re assuming people would believe you.¡± ¡°You assume they wouldn¡¯t believe me?¡± I asked. She shrugged her shoulders. ¡°Frankly, I don¡¯t care all that much. Because I don¡¯t think you¡¯re going to tell everyone.¡± ¡°And why¡¯s that?¡± ¡°I was with some elves, just a few days ago,¡± she said. ¡°I was looking to see the future ¡ª it¡¯s useful to know what¡¯s going to happen, when you¡¯re trying to plot out your future.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°That makes sense.¡± ¡°These elves told me that a stranger was coming to town. They said this stranger was an engine ¡ª much like the dragons.¡± ¡°You hate the dragons.¡± ¡°But this stranger was an engine of something else. This stranger¡¯s supposed to be an engine of change.¡± ¡°You think I¡¯m the engine of change,¡± I said. ¡°I know it¡¯s not Lusu. She¡¯s not a stranger, on top of everything else. And I don¡¯t think it¡¯s your shirtless friend, either. Something in his eyes strikes me as lost, desperate ¡ª unable to change himself, much less others.¡± ¡°Which leaves me,¡± I said. ¡°Which leaves you,¡± she replied. ¡°Lusu wants to save the world,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t know what¡¯s between you two, and I¡¯d be surprised if you were inclined to tell me. But for all her faults, for all her defense, I believe Lusu wants to do good in this world. She wants to protect it.¡± ¡°Lusu wants to save the world by keeping it the same,¡± Coraline said. ¡°I want to save the world by changing it. I¡¯ll give you that: both her and I have noble goals. Question is, which one do you agree with? Which party do you see yourself aligning with?¡± ¡°This world is strange and this world is beautiful,¡± Coraline continued, ¡°but sometimes it doesn¡¯t know how to protect itself. Would you care to help me? Would you care to help me make this world a better place?¡± ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª The smell of incense hit me when I walked through the door. ¡°Hey,¡± I said, looking at Lusu, who was sprawled across the white-linen bed. She had a book in her hand ¡ª my book. Godkiller. ¡°Hello,¡± she said. ¡°Make any friends?¡± ¡°One,¡± I said. ¡°What¡¯s with the book?¡± She tore her eyes from the page, glancing up at me. ¡°It¡¯s yours.¡± ¡°I know. Why are you reading it?¡± ¡°Why¡¯d you write it?¡± ¡°Stupidity, fame, catharsis,¡± I said. ¡°In that order. Now it¡¯s your turn. Why are you reading my book?¡± ¡°Well, it can¡¯t be for any of those reasons,¡± she said. ¡°You want the truth?¡± ¡°Always.¡± She smiled. ¡°I¡¯m reading it to get an insight into Val¡¯s life.¡± ¡°You lived with the man for decades,¡± I said, leaning against the doorframe. ¡°You didn¡¯t get any insight then?¡± ¡°Oh, I knew him quite well,¡± she said, ¡°and I could imagine what he¡¯d been like, killing Hostem. But I didn¡¯t really know. He didn¡¯t like to tell the story himself, you know.¡± ¡°I saw the book at your house,¡± I said. ¡°You didn¡¯t read it then?¡± ¡°I¡¯m re-reading it. Find something new every time.¡± ¡°Glad to hear it,¡± I said, though I really wasn¡¯t. ¡°Was it all true?¡± she asked. ¡°I changed some details around,¡± I said, sticking a hand in my left pocket, taking a cool deep breath. I hoped I didn¡¯t have any tells. ¡°Had to protect Val¡¯s identity.¡± ¡°And those are the only details you changed?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± She closed the book, laying it aside. ¡°Why is it that I don¡¯t believe you?¡± ¡°I can think of two reasons you wouldn¡¯t believe me,¡± I said, hoping this verbal game of cat-and-mouse could lead her away from the truth, ¡°Either I¡¯m not believable, or you¡¯re just no believer.¡± ¡°Could be both,¡± she said. ¡°Could be.¡± I took in a deep breath of incense. It was calming, if nothing else. ¡°Nice incense.¡± The side of her lip curled into a smile, and she looked over at the nightstand. On it stood a bowl. The bowl had a little hole, which the incense stick fit into. The top of the incense stick burned, smoke curling upwards. ¡°Thanks,¡± she said. ¡°Val never did like incense. Always said it burned his lungs. Strange thing, really. Man killed a god, and just a little bit of incense bothered him. Seems petty, looking back.¡± ¡°Most things seem petty, looking back,¡± I said. The things that didn¡¯t look petty often appeared to be huge mistakes. Why not let the mad god Hostem kill us? If he¡¯d created us, didn¡¯t he have the right to destroy us? What could our purpose possibly be without him? Again and again I came back to that awful thought: I should be dead. After all, nothing seemed to matter, when I remembered the murder of a god. His eyes that haunted me. I couldn¡¯t pretend to be a salesman around Lusu. She knew. She knew. ¡°You said you made a friend,¡± she said. It was good to get ripped from the reverie. ¡°Have any thoughts on the Angel of Death?¡± I asked, moving away from the doorway, sitting in the small armchair to the left of the bed. ¡°Thoughts,¡± I said. ¡°I know the Death Cult isn¡¯t a fan. That seems to be half the point of it: subverting the Angel of Death¡¯s intentions.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± she said. ¡°Do you agree? Do you think the Angel of Death is bad for this world?¡± ¡°My thoughts on the Angel of Death are ever-changing,¡± Lusu said, giving me a somewhat strange look. There was a spark in her eyes ¡ª the sort of spark that betokened a wit, a knowledge, a power. I felt like she could look at me once and know my whole life story. I wondered how much she knew. Lusu went on: ¡°I¡¯m certain that the Death Cult¡¯s views on the matter are overly simplistic. They are right that reincarnation is a horrifying idea, if you get right down to it. This idea that we repeat the same mistakes over and over, never living long enough to fully grow: learning the same lessons lifetime after lifetime.¡± My voice felt hoarse: ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°But at the same time, I don¡¯t think the Angel of Death is entirely to blame.¡± ¡°Who is?¡± I asked. She shrugged. ¡°No need to blame Hostem. He¡¯s dead enough, already.¡± She paused a second, then took in a sharp breath. ¡°I used to blame the Angel of Death, for the way things were. I used to think she was to blame for so many of the problems in life. But I think she wants what¡¯s best for the world. An untimely death is never good, but I don¡¯t think she¡¯s to blame. Living things always ruin the world. It¡¯s up to the new generation to fix it. And that can¡¯t happen unless the old are destroyed.¡± I sat there, nodding my head, watching the incense stick slowly burn away. ¡°Why not kill yourself?¡± ¡°Excuse me?¡± ¡°Why not kill yourself?¡± I said. ¡°If you believe in reincarnation, and you believe that the old are killing a world that the new need to fix, why not just kill yourself?¡± She didn¡¯t hesitate to answer. I appreciated that. ¡°It¡¯s not the way things are done,¡± she said. ¡°Killing yourself now is just rushing towards the next decline, the next period of old age infirmity.¡± ¡°The next period of old age, when you can just kill yourself again,¡± I said. ¡°Suicide is selfish,¡± she snapped. ¡°The old might make mistakes that hurt the world, but they also help teach the next generation. Their example shows the next generation the error of their ways, allowing the new generation to fix things. After everything a society puts into you, you can¡¯t just leave. Suicidal thoughts are often just a mood¨C¡± ¡°What if it¡¯s a mood you¡¯ve been in for decades?¡± I asked. ¡°Then you need to figure out what¡¯s putting you in such a bad mood,¡± she said, ¡°and stop it.¡± Hard to stop the memories. Still, I said, ¡°Thanks, Lusu. I needed that.¡± ¡°Any time,¡± she said. ¡°Who was the friend you made?¡± ¡°She¡¯s not a friend you wanted me to make,¡± I said. ¡°You talked to Coraline?¡± ¡°She talked to me,¡± I said. ¡°Splitting hairs.¡± ¡°That¡¯s often what conversation with you is,¡± I said. She smiled, nodding her head a bit. ¡°Touch¨¦. What¡¯d you two talk about?¡± ¡°She called me an engine of change.¡± ¡°She never was good at smalltalk,¡± Lusu said. ¡°She wanted me to join her,¡± I told Lusu. ¡°Said that the dragons weren¡¯t good for this world, and that she wanted to let people die when they wanted to.¡± ¡°That sounds noble,¡± she said. ¡°Why are you still here, then?¡± ¡°She said she wanted to take down the Angel of Death,¡± I said. ¡°I figured you didn¡¯t. The way you seemed okay with her, even when Val was still talking to her¡­ Well, I trust that. I guess I trust you.¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t realize you were such a fan of the Angel of Death,¡± she said. I thought back on my history with the Angel of Death: the kindness she¡¯d granted me after my brother had died, the favor she¡¯d granted some forty years ago. I¡¯d gotten angry at her: I¡¯d been mad at some of the things she¡¯d taken from me, and these days I never wanted to see her, but someone insulting her felt wrong. I guess there was something wrong with me for feeling this way, but I wanted what was best for her. I didn¡¯t want to associate with someone who wanted her gone. ¡°That makes two of us,¡± I said. ¡°You should go see my father,¡± Lusu said. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°His word holds weight here,¡± she said. ¡°Besides, you like asking questions, and he likes answering them. I imagine you two will get along quite well.¡± ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª I walked across the deck of the boat, finding myself before the door to Lusu¡¯s father¡¯s cabin. I knocked on the metal door. ¡°Come in!¡± he yelled. Something sounded off about his voice, but I couldn¡¯t decide what it was. I opened the door. When I looked at him, I could tell that something was definitely wrong. He was shirtless, for one, which marked a clear contrast to the formal outfit I¡¯d seen him wearing yesterday. He had on a pair of frayed jeans, which very nearly matched the color of his skin. He held up a coat hanger, staring at me through it. The white pigment of his skin seemed to be most concentrated surrounding his eyes, forming a spiral that started at the edges of his eyes and pushed out, stopping at his eyebrows and dropping down. The rest of the white formed wild streaks across his bright blue skin. His eyes looked an even-paler shade of blue than I¡¯d remembered. I looked at the desk behind him. It was hard to see, but I was pretty sure I saw the remnants of cocaine. There was definitely a straw there, as well as a sheet of acid tabs. ¡°Is this a bad time?¡± I asked. ¡°No,¡± Lusu¡¯s father said, smiling wide. ¡°This is the perfect time. That said, it¡¯s all about perspective, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡± ¡°What¡¯s about perspective?¡± ¡°Invention,¡± Lusu¡¯s father said, ¡°which is all about time, which is all about perspective. You see, that¡¯s what invention is: the creation of the future. We observe the past and the present, hoping to get a key to unlock the future. And the key is in the invention. In the past, the future involved people travelling all over the world. But how did we get that future? What was the key that unlocked the door? What allowed to the future to become the present?¡± ¡°Cars?¡± I asked. ¡°Cars!¡± he yelled. He cast the coat hanger aside, letting out a great big laugh as he ran up and hugged me. He then let go, pulling back and patting my arms. ¡°You, of course, have a great understanding of the future.¡± ¡°You mean because I¡¯m an elf?¡± ¡°Precisely that!¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, though. I was trying to explain my point to you. My point. Ah! Right. I¡¯m trying to explain to you that I won¡¯t apologize for having mixed a little cocaine with a little acid. You see, I¡¯m trying to change my perspective, and that¡¯s the most important thing an inventor can do. Change the perspective, so that he can see the future.¡± ¡°Or she,¡± I said. ¡°Right!¡± he said. ¡°My apologies, I¡¯d forgotten there was a lady in the room!¡± I¡¯d almost forgotten, too. ¡°Anyway,¡± I said, ¡°I came in here to apologize for last night. I got carried away with the shots.¡± ¡°No!¡± he yelled. ¡°No! No! No!¡± He smacked me in the arm a couple times. ¡°Haven¡¯t you been listening to a word I¡¯ve been saying? I appreciate changed perspectives. In fact, there¡¯s nothing I love more than changed perspectives! The magic of life lies in exploring the unknown. And how can you find new things if you look at them in the same old way?¡± I nodded my head. ¡°That makes a lot of sense.¡± ¡°Of course it does!¡± he yelled. ¡°I¡¯m a fucking genius. But now I¡¯ve got a question to ask you. The Cult is gathering tonight to summon the spirit of a dragon: it¡¯s a preliminary thing, before the dragon is actually formed, when it¡¯s an thoughtform that hasn¡¯t been granted life. And my question is twofold. One, do you want to come and watch it?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°Two, do you want to trip balls with me while it happens?¡± I thought on it for a second. ¡°Fuck yeah.¡± --- --- --- Author''s Note: That''s the end of Chapter 3.3! If you don''t feel like waiting for the next chapter, the rest of the story has already been posted on my site. Click here for Chapter 3.4. 3.4 The walls were covered with blood. I put my hand on one of the pictures. No, not blood. Paint. I sniffed it. Definitely paint. They were red walls, which was somewhat normal, all things considered. ¡°Are you okay?¡± a voice asked. I looked over and saw that it was one of the Hyalu. She wasn¡¯t wearing a cloak, which was surprising. Didn¡¯t cultists always wear cloaks? ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°Using my elf senses. You know. To smell this wall.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± the Hyalu said. ¡°It¡¯s an elf thing,¡± I said. ¡°Alright,¡± she said. ¡°Okay,¡± I said. She turned around, grabbing the hands of the two Hyalu closest to her. I patted myself on the back for being smooth. She probably had no idea I was tripping balls. They formed a circle, which meant they were either about to sing Kumbaya, or try and summon the spirit of a dragon. Smart money would be on the dragon. I put my hands in my pockets. Damn, no money. If only I had money, I could gamble. Anlu was in the circle, too. I was impressed by how sober he looked. ¡°We call upon the extropian elements of the universe. We call upon the successes of the future to wipe out the sins of the past. We ask the future to provide us with a key. The future, which has gotten through the door with this key, must give back to the past. So please, extropian forces, grant us light. Please, extropian forces, build us a dragon. Let us see your plans for us, so we might find the proper soul to fill your vessel.¡± Light blue energy sparked up, in the middle of the circle. I could barely see it, since my view was being blocked by the people in the circle. But I saw one of the sparks set off a whole new batch of sparks. The sparks seemed to build, so that each speck of light became the focal point for a new sparking. Eventually I saw that the spark formed a picture. The picture only lasted for a second. It was a dragon, which flew in the air. Its great big wings stretched out on either side, and out of its open jaw flew a wild spark. The sparks fizzled out all at once, dropping to the floor, little more than ashes. ¡°Shit,¡± I muttered under my breath. ¡°The future has spoken,¡± Anlu said. ¡°Who wants to be a dragon?¡± Silence. ¡°I think dragons are pretty fucking awesome,¡± I said, ¡°and I don¡¯t like my body very much. Can I be a dragon?¡± More silence. ¡°No,¡± Anlu said. His voice wavered a little, and I think he was trying to hide his desire to laugh. ¡°You can¡¯t be a dragon.¡± ¡°Boo,¡± I said. ¡°This cult sucks.¡± More silence. Finally, Anlu spoke again: ¡°If no one volunteers, the soul will be chosen by us, when the time comes.¡± I thought about the silence: there was a sort of understanding in it, a gravity that couldn¡¯t be conveyed by words. Nobody wanted to be the dragon. Which seemed kind of strange. Who didn¡¯t want to be a fucking dragon? ¡°Alright, then,¡± Anlu said. ¡°It won¡¯t be a volunteer.¡± As if on command, the circle broke apart, everyone letting go of each other¡¯s hands. They looked somewhat dazed ¡ª not necessarily confused, but perhaps entranced, as if they¡¯d been operating on a different level and were suddenly forced back down to the planet. Lusu walked over to me. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t you want to be a dragon?¡± ¡°Shut up,¡± she said. ¡°You¡¯re obviously on drugs.¡± I cast my eyes about the room, thinking I¡¯d somehow find the inspiration for the retort I needed. ¡°So?¡± I said. Damn. She rolled her eyes. ¡°That was very sad, what you just said,¡± Anlu said, walking up behind Lusu. ¡°So?¡± I said. ¡°No, before that.¡± ¡°Something about dragons,¡± I said. ¡°You said you didn¡¯t like your body,¡± Anlu said. ¡°That¡¯s sad. You really should love yourself.¡± Lusu turned around to look at her father. ¡°You¡¯re both on drugs? Really?¡± ¡°How¡¯d you know?¡± I whispered. ¡°That almost doesn¡¯t merit a response. But if I have to spell it out to you, my dad¡¯s eyes are a pretty good telltale sign.¡± I looked at his eyes. They were strange, with patches of white pigment focused right around the eyes, spiraling outwards and dancing all across his face. I took out my Elf Guard badge: ¡°I¡¯m the motherfuckin¡¯ Elf Guard, and you¡¯re under arrest.¡± I manipulated my hand so that it looked like a gun. ¡°Pew pew, pew pew,¡± I said. ¡°Got me good,¡± Anlu said, laughing. ¡°I¡¯ll leave you two to it, then,¡± Lusu said, walking away from us. ¡°Glad you¡¯re getting along, at least.¡± ¡°Sure we are,¡± Anlu said, ¡°though it¡¯s hard to get along with someone who doesn¡¯t get along with themselves.¡± ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª My hand was a beautiful creature. It started at the palm ¡ª the center of it all ¡ª then split into five rays of light, five different fingers. I closed my hand, one finger at a time, then opened it up again. Beautiful. ¡°I think Lusu and Coraline are going to try and kill each other,¡± I told Anlu. I didn¡¯t look at him, but merely heard as he said: ¡°You¡¯re probably right.¡± ¡°That doesn¡¯t bother you?¡± ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°It¡¯s the way things are supposed to be. Those two have been at it since they were little.¡± ¡°Really?¡± I asked. ¡°Yeah,¡± he said. I was laying down on the floor, looking up at the ceiling. There was a ceiling light, and I put my hand to block my view of it. Opened the hand up, finger by finger, then closed it again. ¡°Everything has a beginning, everything has an ending,¡± I said. ¡°I like how relaxed you guys are about everything.¡± ¡°I never said that,¡± Anlu said. ¡°Nothing ends. There are stopping points ¡ª a pause, perhaps ¡ª but nothing ever ends. We create, we strive, we build. And we do it because we can¡¯t stop.¡± ¡°Sounds exhausting,¡± I said. ¡°Not really. It¡¯s just the way life is.¡± ¡°Life is exhausting,¡± I said. ¡°I think Lusu and Coraline are going to try and kill each other.¡± ¡°Those two never could get along,¡± he said. ¡°Do you know why?¡± ¡°It was a lot of things,¡± he said. ¡°Lusu always had trouble making friends. Couldn¡¯t hold her tongue, and all that. Not that I blamed her for having a sharp tongue. It¡¯s just that it didn¡¯t help her get close to people. I think it would¡¯ve been different if she was male.¡± I fought the lump in my throat. ¡°Probably.¡± ¡°She and Coraline were close for a while, actually. As close as anybody got to Lusu, at least.¡± A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. ¡°What happened?¡± ¡°It was a lot of things. Coraline began dating elves, which Lusu had a problem with. In fact, I¡¯m somewhat surprised she¡¯s friends with you. That said ¡ª and tell me if I¡¯m getting too invasive, here, but you don¡¯t seem to have that elvish soul.¡± ¡°What¡¯s an elvish soul?¡± ¡°It¡¯s something in the eyes,¡± he said. ¡°How you¡¯re raised, how society looks at you. The values you¡¯re taught and the values you stuck to. I imagine you were something of a rebel ¡ª never able to uphold elven ideals.¡± I thought back to Lusu breaking me out of the hospital. ¡°That¡¯s not far from the truth,¡± I said. ¡°Lusu didn¡¯t like the elves?¡± ¡°She didn¡¯t dislike them openly, at least. She just didn¡¯t care for them much. Think it bothered her that elves always seemed to be in control ¡ª to know things she couldn¡¯t. It creates a sort of distance, doesn¡¯t it? One person knows the future, while the other doesn¡¯t. It¡¯s a real-life dramatic irony. There¡¯s a distance that the knower can¡¯t ever overcome.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, drifting off. As he spoke, Anlu¡¯s voice began to change in timbre. It became more metallic-sounding, less Hyalu: ¡°Lusu cared for magic. That¡¯s where her real passion lay. Coraline didn¡¯t do too well in the subject, and I think she lost some respect in Lusu¡¯s eyes, because of it. I think¨C¡± All I heard was the sound of a trumpet, blaring away. I looked over and saw Anlu, his mouth opening and closing, trumpet noises coming out. He didn¡¯t seem to notice the oddity of his voice. I wondered if I was going crazy. He didn¡¯t seem to notice me. It was like he was in his own different world. Maybe we were separated by a glass wall, which distorted sound. I reached out, trying to feel some physical force separating him from me. But there was nothing. No barrier was there. His eyes were focused on the wall. It was like I wasn¡¯t even here. My heart was beating faster. I closed my eyes, trying to get away. I dreamed. It was a better way of living. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª I don¡¯t know why I was so nervous, but I was. Jazz music played in the background, trumpet roaring, climbing higher and higher trying to reach the loudest note it could. The rest of the band supported it ¡ª bass keeping time, drum keeping time, saxophone working some interesting repetition. Go man go go as high as you can. We were sitting at a fancy table. Lusu looked at me. ¡°Are you alright?¡± she asked. I was glad she wasn¡¯t speaking in Trumpet, but there was something so uncomfortable about this experience. It was like spiders crawling all across my body. I began patting myself down. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± she asked. I looked up at her, confused. I didn¡¯t know what to say. You killed a man, a powerful voice said. I couldn¡¯t figure out where it was coming from, but he was right. I¡¯d told a man to kill himself, and he had. Maybe there was no escaping that. Maybe my life was ruined. His life sure was. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª I opened my eyes, only to see the ocean staring back at me. Closed my eyes. Darkness. Opened them again, Saw the ocean again. Closed them. Darkness. Opened them for a third time, only to realize that it wasn¡¯t the ocean staring at me. It was Lusu and her father. ¡°She¡¯s alive,¡± Anlu said. ¡°A good thing, I suppose,¡± she replied. ¡°She?¡± I asked. Anlu looked at Lusu. Lusu wore a poker face, revealing nothing. ¡°Right,¡± I said. ¡°I was put into the body of an elf. You were referring to me.¡± Anlu looked over at his daughter. ¡°Is that true?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± she said. ¡°He was a man, once.¡± ¡°Oh,¡± Anlu said, his eyes still wild with white. ¡°Cool.¡± ¡°Nobody can know,¡± she said, putting her finger to her lips. ¡°Shh.¡± Anlu imitated the action. ¡°Shh,¡± he said. ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± she said. ¡°Though it¡¯s not particularly relevant to our current situation.¡± ¡°Which is?¡± I asked. ¡°Dad only rented the boat for a couple days, which means we have to leave here pretty soon.¡± ¡°Oh, shit,¡± I said. ¡°Yeah,¡± she said. ¡°We¡¯re going to go into town today, and I need you to not look like you¡¯re on drugs.¡± ¡°Why?¡± I asked. ¡°Because there¡¯s going to be an election next week to decide which soul should fuel the body of the dragon. Each of the Death Cult members are up for the vote, as well as me, since I¡¯m the one who asked for the dragon in the first place.¡± ¡°Oh, shit,¡± I said again. ¡°Yeah,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s sort of like the opposite of a real election,¡± Anlu explained. ¡°Everyone argues why they shouldn¡¯t be the one to inhabit the body of the dragon. Then they argue why someone else should be the one.¡± ¡°What¡¯s so bad about becoming a dragon?¡± I asked. ¡°When you die, you come back as something completely different,¡± Anlu said. ¡°Usually, Death brings us back as mirrors of ourselves: similar personalities, with similar ambitions. So a Hyalu associated with the Death Cult has a good chance of escaping the circle of reincarnation, so long as they keep coming back as a Hyalu. Eventually, they¡¯ll be in line to truly shuffle off the mortal coil. But if they become something else, all is lost. Worst of all, they¡¯re forced to keep living as something alien, something foreign.¡± ¡°Uncomfortable,¡± I said. ¡°Right,¡± he responded, ¡°like you getting in the body of an elf, but even worse. People¡¯s personalities shift, in ways that can feel unpleasant. The discomfort makes many go mad.¡± ¡°Only to be born again and again, only to go mad again and again, an ever-recurring cycle of damnation,¡± I said. ¡°Right,¡± he replied. ¡°You know, I think I¡¯m going to invite Coraline to have dinner with us.¡± Lusu looked at him, face askew. ¡°Why?¡± ¡°Stop the cycle, offer the hand of friendship. You two aren¡¯t so different, in the end.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the worst thing you¡¯ve ever said to me.¡± ¡°Surely it¡¯s not the worst,¡± he said. ¡°I don¡¯t think one of the dining halls is being used today. I¡¯ll pull some strings with the boat¡¯s staff and set something up.¡± --- --- --- Author''s Note: That''s the end of Chapter 3.4! If you don''t feel like waiting for the next chapter, the rest of the story has already been posted on my site. Click here for Chapter 3.5. 3.5 I stood by the door of the dining hall, squirming uncomfortably in my three-piece suit. Hadn¡¯t worn a three-piece suit since I¡¯d gotten out of the hospital. Instead, I¡¯d worn the button-down shirts Lusu had brought with her when she came to break me out. This vest was the one Sam had worn, before we switched bodies. The pants were hers, too. I wondered where she was. I wondered how my body was doing. I hoped she hadn¡¯t died. Can you imagine that? Someone else dying in your body ¡ª someone else dying for your crimes. And yet there I was, wearing her body, getting ready to eat a fancy dinner in her three-piece suit. I looked out across the ocean waves, wishing they¡¯d smash me into oblivion. ¡°You look nervous,¡± Lusu said. ¡°I¡¯m always nervous,¡± I said. Lusu shrugged. She was wearing a white dress, which perfectly complemented the white pigment swirling across her skin. Thinking about it, I hadn¡¯t seen her look anything less than stunning since I¡¯d known her. Was that on purpose, or did it come naturally? ¡°Coraline doesn¡¯t have white pigment in her skin,¡± I said. ¡°Quite the observational skills,¡± Lusu said, breaking into a smirk. ¡°If you still had the job at the newspaper, it might be worthy of an article.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t.¡± She shrugged again. ¡°The story behind Coraline¡¯s skin is funny, actually.¡± ¡°Lusu,¡± her father said. It was strange. I hadn¡¯t heard him talk to her like that before. She didn¡¯t seem to pay it much mind, saying, ¡°She¡¯s the one who¡¯s keeping us waiting. I think it¡¯s only fair I get to tell the story. If you want to be there when something¡¯s said about you, you¡¯ve got to be there when it¡¯s being said! That doesn¡¯t seem too hard now, does it?¡± And just like that, Coraline turned the corner, walking towards us. Her hair bobbed in the night wind, her white dress practically glowing in the light of the two half moons. It was a strange thing: whereas Lusu¡¯s dress accentuated the whites of her skin, Coraline¡¯s noted its vacancy. ¡°Did I hear something about my name?¡± Coraline asked. ¡°As a matter of fact, you did,¡± Lusu said. ¡°Sam here was wondering just how it was that you lost the whites of your skin.¡± In an instant, the mood of the party seemed to change. Lusu¡¯s father didn¡¯t say much. He merely tilted his head slightly, observing the situation but not going so far as to look anyone in the eyes. Lusu took on a bit of a smile: subtle, but definitely there. Then there was Coraline. I couldn¡¯t quite tell what Coraline was feeling, how she was reacting to the words Lusu had just slung. Was it pride on her face? Embarrassment? Discomfort? Shock? She tilted her head up ever-so-slightly, taking a step back. ¡°I ask a lot of questions,¡± I said. ¡°Half the time, I don¡¯t even think about what I¡¯m asking until I¡¯ve already asked it.¡± ¡°That,¡± Coraline said, drawing out the pause between the beginning of the sentence and the rest of it, ¡°is a bad habit.¡± ¡°Let¡¯s eat, shall we?¡± Lusu¡¯s father said, desperate to please. I nodded my head, thankful for the interruption. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°Let¡¯s.¡± Lusu¡¯s father moved first, reaching to open the door. Coraline quickly entered the room first, head down. Lusu looked at me, that wolf¡¯s smile spreading across her face. I went before her, ladies first no longer being applicable to my situation. Lusu followed, then her father closed the door after her. A waiter, seeing that we¡¯d arrived, quickly rushed through the kitchen door. I had no idea what they were going to serve us, but a piece of me was excited. I couldn¡¯t remember the last time I¡¯d been served like this. A long time ago, probably, when my fame had been more a matter of respect and less one of mockery. This night wasn¡¯t going to go well: I could feel it in my bones. But maybe there was an upside. Dinner and a show. I don¡¯t know. Things had been so bad for so long, making it feel like normal. I sat down next to Coraline. Lusu sat next to me, at the head of the table. Lusu¡¯s father sat at the other end of the table, across from Lusu. The Hero sat across from me, while the seat that sat across from Coraline was empty. ¡°I was glad to get the invite,¡± Coraline said. ¡°Thought it was real nice of you.¡± ¡°You might call it charity,¡± Lusu said. ¡°I wouldn¡¯t,¡± Coraline said, ¡°but okay.¡± ¡°We wanted to talk to you about the dragon situation,¡± Lusu¡¯s father said. ¡°I figured as much,¡± Coraline said. ¡°I¡¯m curious why you even think we need to summon a dragon, in this day and age. I thought we were trying to move away from that.¡± ¡°We are,¡± the father said. ¡°Good,¡± Coraline said. ¡°I¡¯d thought you might be just looking for an excuse to kill someone else for your pet project.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not fair,¡± Lusu¡¯s father said. ¡°I¡¯m not surprised you feel that way.¡± ¡°Surely my father isn¡¯t the worst person you¡¯ve had to sit down to dinner with,¡± Lusu said. ¡°I¡¯d name names, but quite frankly I can¡¯t even remember them all: all the pathetic excuses for elves who drank themselves to oblivion, knowing every step of the way where their drinking would lead them.¡± ¡°They were troubled,¡± Coraline said. ¡°They were drunks,¡± Lusu replied. ¡°Clearly you have a bit of a problem yourself, when it comes to drunk elves,¡± Coraline said. ¡°Sam¡¯s not my lover.¡± ¡°Could¡¯ve fooled me,¡± Coraline snapped. ¡°Surely not as much as the elves fooled you. How many times did they lie to you about your future?¡± Coraline broke eye contact with Lusu. ¡°They were troubled.¡± ¡°That¡¯s one word for what they were.¡± There was a moment of silence. Then the waiter walked back into the room. ¡°Can I get anyone a drink?¡± Nobody spoke up, until I asked, ¡°Do you have any wine?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± the waiter said. ¡°We have a variety of options, might I get you¨C¡± ¡°The cheapest stuff you have. Don¡¯t waste the good stuff on me.¡± I saw the disappointment in Coraline¡¯s eyes, so I said, ¡°Might as well play to type ¡ª fulfill my destiny, and all that.¡± ¡°That¡¯s sad,¡± she told me. I nodded my head. ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± The waiter looked somewhat stupefied, so Lusu merely said, ¡°Water,¡± tossing her hand in the air as if to let him know how little it really mattered. ¡°Water,¡± Coraline said. ¡°Cognac,¡± Lusu¡¯s father said. The waiter looked anxious. He bowed his head and walked back to the kitchen. ¡°It¡¯ll be good when your mother comes back,¡± Coraline said. ¡°I just hope you¡¯re here when she does.¡± ¡°I can assure you I won¡¯t be,¡± Lusu said. ¡°She told me she missed you,¡± Coraline said. ¡°I¨C¡± Lusu stopped. The smile was gone from her face, and there was something I didn¡¯t quite understand. I thought she didn¡¯t care about her mother. I thought reincarnation made it all okay. ¡°I¡¯m glad to hear it.¡± Lusu¡¯s father cut in, ¡°Of course she missed her daughter.¡± ¡°Of course,¡± Lusu echoed. ¡°Most people didn¡¯t care too much that you¡¯d gone,¡± Coraline said. ¡°They¡¯d known you, but not so well. I cared.¡± ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have,¡± Lusu said. ¡°I did. How come you didn¡¯t tell me or your mother that you were leaving? Why did you only say goodbye to your father, in the middle of the night?¡± ¡°My father was the one I wanted to say goodbye to,¡± Lusu said. ¡°Surely that¡¯s not so hard to understand.¡± ¡°I want to know when you stopped caring about me.¡± ¡°I always cared,¡± Lusu said. ¡°That was my problem?¡± ¡°That was your problem?¡± Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.¡°One of many,¡± Lusu said. ¡°We all have a lot of problems, and that was one of mine.¡± ¡°I¨C¡± ¡°You knew all the bad things Rick was going to do to me,¡± Lusu said. ¡°You knew what your own boyfriend was going to do to me, and you didn¡¯t care.¡± ¡°I did care.¡± ¡°Clearly not enough,¡± Lusu said, ¡°or you would¡¯ve stopped it.¡± ¡°I did care,¡± Coraline said, ¡°but you know I couldn¡¯t have stopped him. Stopping him would disconnect him from the time stream. He told me how things were going to go, so I followed him.¡± ¡°And you don¡¯t think that was abusive? Making you do exactly what he told you to do?¡± ¡°It¡¯s the elf way,¡± Coraline said. ¡°Sometimes an elf slips up, says something they shouldn¡¯t. Then whoever they spoke to has to stick to the future. That, or see their loved one go mad. Surely your friend can tell you that.¡± ¡°I really can¡¯t,¡± I said. A beat in the conversation. The elf scrunched her face up a little, confused by my words. I chose not to explain them. The waiter entered, carrying the tray of four drinks. He set them all down in silence. Then, he asked for our orders. We gave them, and sat there in continued silence. ¡°You know I¡¯m sorry,¡± Coraline said. ¡°I told you I was sorry.¡± ¡°I heard the words,¡± Lusu said. ¡°And I said ¡®em because I meant ¡®em,¡± Coraline said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, sugah, but I just don¡¯t know what else I can do. Are you just looking for a punching bag? Because I can be that. I¡¯m a grown Hyalu and I don¡¯t expect that you need to forgive me. But do you want to? Do I have a chance at your forgiveness, or are you just looking to sit here and snipe me?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t want to forgive you,¡± Lusu said. ¡°You don¡¯t have a chance at my forgiveness, because you shouldn¡¯t need to ask for it now. You should never have needed to ask for my forgiveness in the first place.¡± ¡°Lusu¨C¡± her father cut in. ¡°No,¡± Lusu said. ¡°I¡¯m not going to lie, Dad. Lies are a waste of time.¡± I thought back to her and me back home ¡ª her telling me she didn¡¯t know where Val had been the night Stellavia had died. She¡¯d lied, then. Of course, there was little point bringing that up now. ¡°Your husband beat the shit out of me,¡± Lusu continued, whispering, voice quavering. ¡°He got drunk, he got jealous of our friendship, and then he beat the shit out of me. And you let him. He emotionally abused you, he physically battered me, and you let him. He told you it was going to happen, and you let him do it anyway.¡± ¡°I had to,¡± Coraline said, cheeks wet. ¡°You had to?¡± Lusu repeated, slamming her hand on the table and standing up. ¡°You had to let him beat me?¡± ¡°It was just one night,¡± she said. ¡°I didn¡¯t think¨C¡± ¡°Clearly you didn¡¯t,¡± Lusu said, jabbing her finger at Coraline. ¡°Because what could you possibly have thought that would make that okay? You thought that was just one night? You thought what he did to me would just be one night? I¡¯d get up the next day and forget about it? Or I¡¯d get up the next week and the bruises would be gone and that¡¯s all that would matter? Because that¡¯s not what happened, Coraline. What happened is that I¡¯ve been afraid.¡± She gulped air, wiping a tear. ¡°What¡¯s happened is that I don¡¯t relax around other living beings, anymore. I can¡¯t afford to, because I know what they can do. I know how much they can hurt me, and I know that sometimes it doesn¡¯t matter how much I beg. Sometimes, you¡¯re looking into the eyes of a madman and all you can do is hope he doesn¡¯t beat you too hard.¡± ¡°That knowledge,¡± Lusu said, ¡°has changed my life. It¡¯s what I loved about Val. He made me feel safe. And then he died and came back to life and now I¡¯m on this stupid fucking journey trying to kill him, coming back to see you even though I hate you. And do you understand? Do you understand what it¡¯s like for me to have to sit here and pretend to not hate your fucking guts.¡± Coraline didn¡¯t make eye contact with Lusu. She kept her gaze planted on the floor. Scratched her forehead, and said, ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not good enough!¡± Lusu screamed. ¡°What do you want?¡± Coraline said, meeting Lusu¡¯s gaze. Honestly, what do you want me to do about this? You want me to turn into a dragon and die? Is that really what you want?¡± ¡°You¡¯ve been dead to me for a long goddamn time,¡± Lusu said. ¡°Might as well make it official.¡± ¡°Fuck you, sugah,¡± Coraline said, pushing her chair back and getting up. ¡°I hope you have to suffer through a million more reincarnations.¡± She moved for the door. ¡°Fuck you!¡± Lusu yelled. ¡°Fuck you! You want to know something? I don¡¯t even think the universe is going to be around that long, so I don¡¯t even care anymore. I just want you out of my life! Forever!¡± ¡°A couple days, and your wish will be granted,¡± Coraline said, softly, not turning to look at Lusu. ¡°One way or another, you¡¯ll get your wish.¡± With that, Coraline opened the door and left. Lusu stood there, her face undefinable. I thought I saw exhaustion there. Exhaustion, confusion, anger, pain. I knew I¡¯d never know exactly what was going through her head in that moment. I¡¯m not sure I knew exactly what was going through my head, either. Anger? Yeah. Anger. There was a lot to be mad about, and I didn¡¯t know where to begin. Had Coraline only had sex with me because I was an elf? Did she really care so much for elves that she¡¯d let her own friend get beaten? Damn. Damn! There was the Hyalu who¡¯d made Lusu the way she was. There was a lot to like about Lusu: she was smart, she was funny, she believed in what she believed in. But she was closed off, and it seemed like Coraline was to blame. Coraline had wrecked Lusu. Lusu was a wreck. I was a wreck. Coraline really couldn¡¯t see who I was? The waiter came in, carrying a tray with five plates. The four of us turned to look at him. Lusu looked mad, her father looked embarrassed, and The Hero looked clueless. Me? I had no clue how I looked. Still, the waiter seemed to pick up on the mood of the room ¡ª which couldn¡¯t have been all that hard to do. He gave each of us the food we¡¯d ordered, then took the fifth tray back into the kitchen. I sat there, looking at the lobster before me. It looked good and I was hungry. The smell only made things worse. I looked over at everyone else, but no one was touching their food. It was almost like they were afraid to. I tore into the lobster, ripping it limb from limb. Lobster¡¯s a good food to eat when you¡¯re angry. Lets you tear things apart. By the time I was done, I¡¯d calmed down a bit. But the anger still simmered. It¡¯d calmed down, but it was definitely still there. The hurt was still in Lusu¡¯s eyes, the embarrassment in her father¡¯s, the cluelessness in The Hero¡¯s. Not much had changed, I decided. ¡°I think I¡¯m going to go,¡± I said, standing up. ¡°That¡¯s fair,¡± Lusu¡¯s father said, wiping his lips with a napkin, even though his lips weren¡¯t dirty. ¡°I think it¡¯s fair to say that this party is over.¡± ¡°Before I do, though, how do you think the vote is going to go?¡± ¡°Honestly?¡± the father said. ¡°I¡¯m not sure.¡± ¡°Who¡¯s vote do you need?¡± ¡°There are seven members of the cult,¡± he said. ¡°Lusu and I are voting for Coraline, obviously. I¡¯ve got a friend who¡¯s on our side, too.¡± ¡°So you need one more vote,¡± I said. ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°Do you think you¡¯re going to get it?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± he said. ¡°Give me a name.¡± ¡°What are you going to do?¡± Lusu asked. ¡°My best,¡± I said. It might not be much, but it was all I could offer. ¡°Nancy,¡± Lusu said. ¡°Talk to Nancy.¡± 3.6 She wore fur, but no smile. I stood in Nancy¡¯s doorway, admiring the white fur that hung around her neck. She didn¡¯t admire me. ¡°You¡¯re the elf,¡± she said. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°The elf that puked everywhere.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Lusu¡¯s friend.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± The conversation had started with two lives and a half-truth. I could only imagine how it would go from here. ¡°What do you want to talk to me about?¡± ¡°The election,¡± I said. ¡°What if I don¡¯t want to talk to you?¡± ¡°I can see the future,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t really know if you want to talk to me or not, but you¡¯ll be glad you did, a couple years down the road.¡± She laughed, but hers wasn¡¯t a laugh of joy. It was an aggressive thing, like each ¡°Ha¡± was her punching me in the face. ¡°And if I don¡¯t talk to you?¡± she asked. ¡°You saying I¡¯ll regret it? This some sort of veiled threat?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know what happens if you don¡¯t talk to me,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s not a threat, because it doesn¡¯t happen. No ultimatum. Just the truth.¡± ¡°Sounds like you¡¯re flirting with insanity,¡± she said. ¡°Disconnecting yourself from the timestream.¡± ¡°You know the elves that can tell the future without getting disconnected?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°I¡¯m one of those,¡± I said. ¡°You don¡¯t look like one of those.¡± ¡°And how do they look?¡± ¡°More professional,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯ve been down to Elftown. Their suits aren¡¯t so dirty. And they smile. And they shake your hand when they meet you.¡± ¡°There are a lot of sorts in this world,¡± I said. ¡°You can¡¯t judge the individual based on the whole.¡± ¡°You just seem weird, is all.¡± ¡°I am.¡± ¡°Then why should I trust you?¡± I shrugged my shoulders. ¡°You should trust yourself. You don¡¯t have to judge my ideas based on how I look. You shouldn¡¯t judge a picture of the future based on who¡¯s painting it for you: you should look for yourself, judge it for yourself.¡± She nodded her head. ¡°I don¡¯t trust you.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fine,¡± I said. ¡°Can I come in?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± she said, turning around and walking into the cabin. I followed. ¡°Just keep in mind that I killed a man, once.¡± ¡°I hope that won¡¯t be relevant to our discussion.¡± ¡°So,¡± she said. ¡°So?¡± I said. ¡°The future,¡± she said. ¡°You wanna tell me the future, right?¡± ¡°Only if you want to hear it.¡± She shrugged her shoulders, but I continued: ¡°You vote to make Coraline the dragon.¡± Nancy let out a laugh, looking at me like I was mad. ¡°That¡¯s a little blunt, don¡¯t you think.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not sure I know what you mean.¡± ¡°You come here, tell me I¡¯m going to vote for Coraline to become the dragon. You say that because that¡¯s what you want. You¡¯re not even going to try and dance your way around it? I expected a build-up of some sort, an attempt at an illusion, an attempt to deceive me. But this? What is this? You¡¯re not telling me the future. You¡¯re just telling me what you want me to do.¡± I sat there, looking at her. Damn. Hadn¡¯t expected her to be quite so blunt. ¡°You didn¡¯t ask me why you vote for her,¡± I said. ¡°Why do I vote for her?¡± ¡°Well, I suppose I can¡¯t say for sure,¡± I said, lighting a cigarette and muttering ¡®Fiat Lux¡¯. ¡°I¡¯m no telepath, after all.¡± ¡°You¡¯re toying with me, elf,¡± Nancy said. ¡°I don¡¯t like being toyed with.¡± ¡°I know you don¡¯t,¡± I said, looking at her. I widened my eyes just a little bit, staring at her for longer than I felt comfortable with. ¡°Is that a threat?¡± Nancy asked. ¡°Because it sounds like one.¡± ¡°Not a threat,¡± I said. ¡°A suggestion.¡± Not breaking eye contact, I slipped my hand into my pocket. ¡°I think you should go,¡± she said. ¡°I think I should stay,¡± I said, taking the pistol and pointing it at her. ¡°You think you can win a vote this way?¡± she asked. ¡°What, are you going to point the gun at me all the way to the voting booth?¡± I sighed, slouching in the armchair, sure to keep my aim on her as good as I was able. ¡°This is tough.¡± ¡°You think the position you¡¯re sitting in is tough?¡± she asked. ¡°It¡¯s tough because I don¡¯t know how to make you believe me.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t trust you,¡± she said. ¡°Clearly, I trusted you even more than you should.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right, of course. But now you know not to trust me because you know who I am.¡± ¡°And who are you?¡± ¡°A monster,¡± I said. The words came out as a whisper, though not on purpose. ¡°I¡¯m a fucking monster.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± she said. ¡°You are.¡± ¡°Which means you know that I¡¯m willing to do things outside the norm,¡± I said, ¡°like getting your vote under gunpoint. But you know, I wouldn¡¯t do this under normal circumstances.¡± She squirmed in her seat. I continued, ¡°I¡¯m on a mission, you know? A quest. Because the world¡¯s dying and it¡¯s all my fault and if I can just save it this one last time, maybe I¡¯ll be worth something. Maybe that¡¯ll mean something.¡± She gulped. ¡°This is you doing good?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I whispered. ¡°This is me trying to,¡± I wanted to say what I meant, but I didn¡¯t know how to finish the sentence, so I said, ¡°It¡¯s hard, you know? You see what your creator looks like, and you just,¡± you just what? What do you do? ¡°You just don¡¯t know what to do. Does that make you bad? Does all the bad in the world make you bad? I had a friend who was bad. But everyone thinks he did good and I guess that shouldn¡¯t matter, because who knows anything in this goddamned world? I mean, really? Who knows anything in this goddamned world?¡± ¡°You think this is the answer?¡± she asked, voice sounding hollow. I looked at the gun. ¡°No, but it¡¯s the best answer I¡¯ve got.¡± ¡°Put the gun down,¡± she said. ¡°Put the gun down, so we can talk about this like two individuals.¡± ¡°I,¡± I didn¡¯t know what to say. All I knew was that I couldn¡¯t put the gun down. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t?¡± ¡°The Angel of Death follows me, I think.¡± Nancy nodded her head, so I continued, ¡°I know it sounds crazy, but ever since I¡¯ve been a little boy,¡± shit, ¡°girl, you know, ever since I¡¯ve been a girl, there¡¯s been this cloud of death hanging over me. And it stinks. Everywhere I go, I can smell the stench. And it¡¯s so awful. And I wish I could escape it, but I don¡¯t think I can. I don¡¯t think I¡¯m able.¡± ¡°Put the gun down,¡± Nancy told me. ¡°I can¡¯t.¡± Nancy repeated herself, speaking a bit more softly, ¡°Put the gun down.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said. ¡°I¨C I should go. I¡¯m going to go.¡± She nodded but didn¡¯t say anything. I kept the gun pointed at her, as I stood up and walked backwards towards the door. ¡°What I came here to say,¡± I said, ¡°Well, I was hoping I wouldn¡¯t have to explain it, but obviously I do. What I wanted to say was that this gun can shoot people, you see? Doesn¡¯t matter where I point it. I will the gun to shoot at someone, and the bullets find that person. Have you heard about what happened at Demersi¡¯s Sins?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± she said. ¡°This was the gun,¡± I whispered, pointing at it. ¡°This thing in my hand has already killed too many. But it was meant for good.¡± I looked at it, wondering how much good it¡¯d done. Was this what I¡¯d become? Threatening a Hyalu at gunpoint? Hadn¡¯t I seen so much worse? No. That didn¡¯t make it right. It didn¡¯t matter how ugly the world got, or how ugly the world had already gotten. Maybe I¡¯d been destined for terrible things. Maybe Hostem had created this world only to create conflict and pain. But I still had a choice. There was still something in me that was me. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. I was more than my destiny. I was my actions. I walked over to Nancy. She looked afraid, which was a fair response. ¡°I¡¯ve got this destiny,¡± I said. ¡°Save the world by killing a friend ¡ª or at least, a man I used to call a friend. And it makes me feel miserable day after day, like most of life has felt miserable. I believe in my destiny ¡ª I believe I¡¯m needed. But I don¡¯t know. Sometimes, after so many days of this ¡ª so many years and so many decades ¡ª you begin to lose perspective. I want you to give me perspective. Can you do that, Nancy?¡± I got down on one knee. Flipped the gun around, so that she could grab it. ¡°Take it,¡± I said. She shook her head. ¡°Please, take it,¡± I said. ¡°You don¡¯t have to, but I think it¡¯ll be better for me if you do.¡± She looked at me askance. ¡°Please,¡± I said. She moved her hands to grab it, but stopped. Her open palms sat there for a couple seconds, shaking, circling the gun but unable to actually grab it. It was worship, of a sort: a respect for the divinity of the bullet. One palm rested on the gun¡¯s grip, its finger on the trigger. Her other hand met it, supported it. ¡°I told you I killed a man,¡± she said, voice quavering. ¡°Yeah?¡± I asked, cheeks wet, smiling. ¡°I lied,¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯s alright,¡± I whispered. ¡°We all lie sometimes, I think.¡± ¡°What do you want me to do?¡± she asked. ¡°What you think is right,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m confused. I¡¯m lost. The world is telling me to do something, when all I really want to do is die. And I want you to tell me if I deserve to live.¡± ¡°I barely know you,¡± she said. I gazed into her eyes, trying to find something there. The muzzle of the gun pressed against my forehead. It felt hard ¡ª cold. ¡°I¡¯ve told you I believe I can save the world,¡± I said. ¡°I believe my name is George Rador. I believe I¡¯m the journalist who was with Val Rador when he killed Hostem. I believe I¡¯m the one who has to stop him, but I don¡¯t know. I just don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°You want to know if you¡¯re crazy?¡± she asked. ¡°I want to know if I should believe in myself,¡± I said. ¡°If I shouldn¡¯t just kill me. If I¡¯m causing more pain than good ¡ª if I¡¯m nothing more than a coward who threatens people at gunpoint ¡ª please shoot me. Blow my fucking brains out. It¡¯s what I deserve. Maybe it should¡¯ve happened a long time ago.¡± ¡°I¡¯m no killer,¡± she said. ¡°You might be doing the world a favor,¡± I said. ¡°I convinced the man who wielded that gun last to kill himself, and I¡¯m wondering if I can convince you to do likewise.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t,¡± she said. ¡°If you want me dead,¡± I said. ¡°If you think I should die, but you just don¡¯t have it in your heart, just say ¡®bang¡¯. Just say ¡®bang,¡¯ and I¡¯ll do it to myself.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t think you should die,¡± she said. ¡°I think you¡¯re troubled, obviously. But you believe what you say and you¡¯re trying to be good. That¡¯s all you can do. You need help, but you don¡¯t need to kill yourself. That¡¯s as bad as killing someone else ¡ª it¡¯s self-murder.¡± The tension in my shoulders let go. Was this redemption? Forgiveness? No. I could only really forgive myself, and I hadn¡¯t really liked the things I¡¯d done. I didn¡¯t really like who I was. But I¡¯d done my best. I¡¯d made a lot of mistakes, but I¡¯d been in a lot of bad situations and I¡¯d done my best, damn it. ¡°Thank you,¡± I muttered, getting off my knees and standing up. I grabbed the muzzle of the gun. The grip of it slid off her hands. I put the gun back where it belonged ¡ª in my holster. ¡°Are you still threatening to kill me?¡± she asked. ¡°If I don¡¯t vote how you want me to, will you shoot me.¡± I looked down at the gun. It had too much power, didn¡¯t it? Ate away at my inside¡¯s. Gave me power I shouldn¡¯t have ¡ª the power to kill another. How do you engage with people in a normal, healthy way when you have that sort of power? Is it possible? ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°I won¡¯t kill you if you don¡¯t vote my way. You know how I feel ¡ª you know I think Lusu is part of a prophecy to stop Val. But I don¡¯t know. Maybe this is supposed to be her last stop. Maybe this is the price we pay for doing what we¡¯re supposed to do. But I don¡¯t think it is. I think if she dies, the world¡¯ll be in real trouble. Of course, I don¡¯t really know. That¡¯s my opinion, and you have to come up with your own.¡± She didn¡¯t say anything. I wondered if that was because she didn¡¯t have anything to say, or if I¡¯d scared her. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said, walking towards the door, not looking back at her. ¡°Thank you,¡± I muttered. I opened the door, leaving her cabin. It was dark outside ¡ª no one else was really around. What time was it? I took about twenty steps towards my room, looking up at a moon. Seemed the other was covered by a cloud. I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. That¡¯d felt good, but bad. I didn¡¯t really know how to feel. I took my gun back out of its holster. Looked at it closely, examining the silver muzzle, the ivory gun grip. I opened the barrel, spun it around. Two bullets left. Did the magic come from the gun, or the bullets? Could I reload, or was this it? I tried to tell myself it didn¡¯t matter. I shouldn¡¯t need to know, because I should only use this to kill Val Rador. For some reason, that didn¡¯t convince me, I wish it had. I thought about tossing this goddamned gun into the ocean. Just let it sink to the bottom, rust to hell. If this world was meant to die, so be it. But that was all emotional. In my head, I knew I was on the right path. I knew I had to do everything I could. It was my obligation ¡ª my need ¡ª my destiny. I put the gun back in its holster, where it belonged. Took another breath, letting the cold air hit my lungs. There was a sort of peace to be found there, in my thoughts: Yes, this is where I¡¯m supposed to be. Yes, this is who I¡¯m supposed to be. I walked back to my cabin and opened the door. Lusu was there, lying on the bed, crying into her father¡¯s lap. Her father sat there, rubbing her back, telling her it would all be okay. I stood there, not knowing what to do. Would it really matter? I quickly tried to figure out why she¡¯d be crying. Was she afraid of getting turned into a dragon? Upset over that beating that had happened decades ago? Maybe she missed her mother. Maybe the willingness to accept death so easily was all just a big ruse, making this society one of oppression instead of openness. I decided it was a selfish question. I didn¡¯t have to know why she cried, so I shouldn¡¯t ask. I just stood there, wondering what to do. Finally, I hit upon the answer: ¡°I¡¯m going to go for a walk.¡± ¡°You talked to Nancy,¡± Lusu¡¯s father said. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°We talked.¡± ¡°What¡¯d she say?¡± he asked. ¡°Is she going to vote for Lusu to become a dragon? Or Coraline?¡± I rubbed my temples, looking at the floor. I just couldn¡¯t look him in the eyes right now. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said. ¡°We had a good talk ¡ª I mean, it was rough, but I think we had a good talk. But I just don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t think you can ever know what¡¯s actually going through the mind of another living creature.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said. He didn¡¯t have anything to say to that. Lusu hadn¡¯t even looked at me since I¡¯d entered the room. I left. Stood right outside the door, watching the waves crash against the boat¡¯s hull for the rest of the night. 3.7 The bowtie that Anlu had lent me felt tight around my neck. I pulled at it, trying to make myself feel better. Of course, that wasn¡¯t going to make me feel any better. ¡°Feeling alright?¡± Lusu asked. She took a sip from her martini glass, then put it back down on the table. There was a sort of softness in her voice: a softness born not of tenderness, but of brokenness. Her voice sounded hollow. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m feeling¡­¡± Anlu sat with us. The three of us sat at the table, watching the night¡¯s proceedings: everyone walking around in their fanciest outfits, waiting for the vote ¡ª waiting for the moment when we¡¯d hear whether Lusu or Coraline would be put into the body of the dragon, which of them would be sentenced to an empty death. I felt tired. But I had a mission, didn¡¯t I? Wasn¡¯t that enough? I wondered if the missions others gave us meant a damn, or if it was the missions we gave ourselves that counted. Or maybe none of it mattered. Fuck. I wasn¡¯t a nihilist, wasn¡¯t I? There had to be something more to it than all that. But I hated feeling like such an idiot ¡ª like a blind man stumbling through life, hoping to stumble onto some sort of personal meaning when everything felt like it was coming from an outside source. Why was I broken? The sound of a fork tapping against glass. I turned my gaze and saw Nawlins, standing at a podium. He spoke into a mic. ¡°The time has come,¡± he said. He nodded his head, reaching over to grab one of the seven envelopes that lay on the table on his right. He ripped it open with those thick muscled hands of his. ¡°Lusu.¡± The name pierced me like a knife. Did I really care that much? Did I care so much more for Lusu than Coraline? Coraline who¡¯d shown me such kindness, and Lusu, who I¡¯d been forced to associate with? The answer was yes. I wondered why. ¡°Coraline,¡± Nawlins said. I couldn¡¯t detect any emotion in his voice, and figured that was put on. Then again, maybe he just didn¡¯t care. I looked over at Coraline. She sat at a table by herself, sipping champagne. That pearl bracelet of hers hung from her wrist. Dangled. My breath felt short. I remembered being in her bed ¡ª how much comfort I¡¯d felt. But I was with Lusu for a reason. That mattered, for some reason. Maybe it just mattered because it had to matter. Maybe I was in love with the idea of friendship more than I was in love with the friendship itself, but goddamn it we¡¯d been goddamned ¡ª the both of us ¡ª and I believed in us. I¡¯d forgotten how to believe ¡ª doubt kept on washing over me, wave after wave of it hitting me ¡ª but I believed in our destiny, I believed in our friendship. Because I had to. Because I knew in my heart it was true. ¡°Lusu,¡± Nawlins said. Two to one. Maybe the world was supposed to end. Maybe Lusu and I couldn¡¯t ever save the world together, because it wasn¡¯t supposed to be saved. Everything had to end, isn¡¯t that right? I felt like I was dying. Held on tight to my pant leg, hoping beyond hope this could all just be over. Was that like wishing for the apocalypse? ¡°Coraline,¡± Nawlins said. Two to two. So maybe Coraline was going to die. Maybe I actively contributed to the death of someone who¡¯d shown me nothing but kindness. And why? For what? Was I so in love with the Angel of Death that I couldn¡¯t stand the thought of her being killed? ¡°Lusu,¡± Nawlins said. So Lusu was going to die. So that was the way it was going to be. So what? I did my best ¡ª I tried my hardest. This must¡¯ve been destiny ¡ª fate ¡ª what the gods wanted. I, some simple stupid elf-human man-woman-bastard shouldn¡¯t have even bothered trying. ¡°Coraline,¡± Nawlins said. Coraline was going to become the dragon. Coraline was going to die. And at that moment, I swear my heart stopped. My whole life stopped. Time seemed to slow down so thoroughly that it didn¡¯t even exist anymore. The truth is that nothing much existed: it was just me and Nawlins, in that moment. Him reaching over to grab the envelope, me taking in the deepest breath of air I¡¯d ever felt. No Lusu. No Coraline. No nobody. Because the truth of it all was, the sooner you let go of all personal connections, the happier you were. You had to let go of your hate, your love, your enemies, your friends, your identities, your responsibilities, your destiny, your god, because you were just one goddamn clump of dust flinging itself around, dressed up and gallivanting but really you were nothing more than a fool, a fool in Emperor¡¯s Clothing, a fool, I was a fool, I wasn¡¯t an elf or a human or a man or a woman or a hero or a villain or a goddamned coward-writer. I was no one, and I liked it that way. ¡°Now I¡¯d like to welcome The Brass Knuckles. Four Hyalu began to play jazz music, trumpet roaring, climbing higher and higher trying to reach the loudest, brightest note it could. The rest of the band supported it ¡ª bass keeping time, drum keeping time, saxophone working some interesting repetition. Go man go go as high as you can. We were sitting at a fancy table. Lusu looked at me. ¡°Are you alright?¡± she asked. I was glad she wasn¡¯t speaking in Trumpet, but there was something so uncomfortable about this experience. It was like spiders crawling all across my body. I began patting myself down. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± she asked. I looked up at her, confused. I didn¡¯t know what to say. You killed a man, a powerful voice said. I couldn¡¯t figure out where it was coming from, but he was right. I¡¯d told a man to kill himself, and he had. Maybe there was no escaping that. Maybe my life was ruined. His life sure was. Now Coraline¡¯s life was gone, too. I¡¯d tried killing Val ¡ª not really, I supposed, but I sure as hell had wanted to kill him. Somehow, he¡¯d survived. Maybe that was why I missed him, deep down inside. He was unkillable, but I was still a damned killer. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª Sat on the bed, elbows resting on my knees. A cigarette dangled from my lips, and I didn¡¯t have it in me to care where the ashes got. The light was turned off, until Lusu walked into the room. I figured she was surprised to see me quite like that, though I couldn¡¯t tell for sure ¡ª my back was turned to her. ¡°I fucked Coraline, you know,¡± I told Lusu. Six heartbeats. ¡°I didn¡¯t,¡± she said. ¡°Know, I mean. I didn¡¯t know you fucked Coraline.¡± ¡°I did. I enjoyed it.¡± ¡°If you¡¯re going to fuck, might as well enjoy it.¡± ¡°Do you think she deserved it?¡± I asked, wiping a bit of sweat off my brow with the back of my hand. ¡°I know she didn¡¯t do some things she should¡¯ve. I¡¯m not saying she was a saint. But is it wrong to turn her into a dragon?¡± ¡°This was her destiny. It was bound to happen since the day she was born.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not the point.¡± ¡°I think it is,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s not. We¡¯re the reason she¡¯s going to turn into a dragon. We¡¯re the reason she¡¯s going to die like that ¡ª living life after confused life, wondering what she did wrong. But really she didn¡¯t do anything that wrong. I¡¯m sorry. She did do bad. It was bad of her to let her boyfriend do what he did, but it¡¯s not like that should lead to eternal damnation.¡± I took a sharp breath of air. Felt like I was drowning in air. ¡°Should it?¡± ¡°You¡¯re being optimistic,¡± Lusu said. Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Optimistic?¡± ¡°You¡¯re assuming the world¡¯ll be around long enough for her to live life after life.¡± ¡°Isn¡¯t that what all this is about?¡± I asked. ¡°Turning her into a dragon so she can maybe save the world.¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± Lusu said. ¡°The worse Coraline¡¯s fate, the better off the world is. You see how nice that is? We only have to worry about Coraline¡¯s fate if we save the world. Otherwise, it doesn¡¯t make much of a difference.¡± ¡°We only have to worry about her fate if we¡¯re heroes,¡± I said. ¡°Right. And by then we¡¯ll have the time, the freedom, the luxury to wallow in self-pity. You¡¯ve gotten a lot of practice at it, after all.¡± ¡°You¡¯re cruel,¡± I said. ¡°Only because you¡¯re such a damn fool, sitting here, telling me Coraline doesn¡¯t deserve this. None of us deserve this. Any of it. We didn¡¯t ask to be born in this world and we didn¡¯t ask to die in it. But damn it, that¡¯s just the way the world is. You want to fight the way of the world? Ha.¡± ¡°Val did,¡± I said. ¡°And look where it got him. Turned him into a villain.¡± I burst into tears. Sobbed uncontrollably and hated myself for it. Couldn¡¯t help it though. Not really. I was just so tired ¡ª tired of doubting myself, of doubting life and the world. Lusu got on the bed, whispering from behind me: ¡°Someone¡¯s going to need to transport Coraline to the ritual location. Everyone¡¯s saying you should do it, because of your experience as an Elf Guard.¡± I laughed through the tears. ¡°I know,¡± she said, ¡°but it¡¯ll look odd if you say no.¡± I sighed. I felt the mattress springs shift as she got off the bed. I heard her walk away from me, only for her to stop. ¡°By the way?¡± ¡°Yeah?¡± I said. ¡°You really shouldn¡¯t waste too many tears on Coraline. The bitch deserves it.¡± ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª Nawlins parked the car. He took his white-knuckled hands off the steering wheel and looked at me: ¡°We¡¯re here.¡± I sighed, looking out at the view. It was a barren patch of land, surrounded by fields of wheat. Some idea of ¡®here¡¯. I got out of the car. Walked to the back, opened the door. Put my hand out; Coraline took it. ¡°Am I the first person you¡¯ve escorted to death?¡± ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°Not really.¡± ¡°Am I the first person you¡¯ve had to escort, who you¡¯re personally responsible for killin¡¯?¡± ¡°No,¡± I said, walking with her towards the circle of Death Cultists. ¡°Not really.¡± She looked surprised. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, if it matters,¡± I told her. ¡°I wish it did, sugah,¡± she said. ¡°Or at least, I wish you¡¯d been sorry before you did what you did ¡ª sorry enough to not go and do it in the first place.¡± Of course, that was my problem. I was always sorry for who I was and what I¡¯d done, but I never knew how to change. Death and guilt hung over me. I wondered if I¡¯d been made that way ¡ª if it was just something in my bones. ¡°You called me the Engine of Change,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I couldn¡¯t be that.¡± ¡°You did change things,¡± she said. ¡°You just didn¡¯t change them the way I wanted them to be changed. Change ain¡¯t always good, I guess.¡± ¡°And if often doesn¡¯t go the way you want it to.¡± She shrugged her shoulders. ¡°I¡¯m not so sure that¡¯s true for you. It¡¯s true for me, but I¡¯m not sure it¡¯s true for you.¡± I didn¡¯t have anything to say to that. It wouldn¡¯t have mattered if I had. We reached the circle of cultists. Coraline looked back at me one last time. I thought she¡¯d given up hope, but maybe she hadn¡¯t. Maybe there was a glimmer of something in her eye: an unwillingness to believe that this was where her life had led her, that this was the culmination of everything. My arms felt weak, but I thought back to Val. I thought about everything he¡¯d done, and how he was about to destroy the world. I thought about myself. It was too late for me; I¡¯d been a bad man for too many years. You had to be bad, to end up in a situation like this. So I grabbed Coraline by the arm, throwing her into the middle of the circle. She didn¡¯t fight me. She knew enough not to try and run. Instead, she stared at the circle, jerking her head wildly back and forth. I saw tears leave her eyes. ¡°We¡¯re ready for the future!¡± Lusu¡¯s father yelled. ¡°Excelsior!¡± I looked up at one the moons. They were little more than slivers in the sky. A blue fire seemed to shoot out from it. It weaved its way through the heavens, piercing this world¡¯s atmosphere and landing on Coraline. In an instant she was burned to a crisp. The blue fire shot out from the ground, weaving its way in the sky. It began to form a circle, and that circle began to take on texture: detail. I struggled to keep my eyes on it. Felt like staring into the sun ¡ª couldn¡¯t have been good for my eyes. But I couldn¡¯t resist. This might be the only time I watched a dragon form, and I just had to see how it worked. ¡°Find the man known as Val Rador,¡± Anlu said. ¡°Kill him.¡± ¡°Find the man known as Val Rador,¡± Anlu repeated. ¡°Kill him.¡± ¡°Find the man known as Val Rador,¡± everyone in the circle said. ¡°Kill him.¡± Sure enough, the circle of fire spun and spun, the speed of it mind-boggling. Finally, it began to slow down. I blinked, and the fire had turned into a dragon. It didn¡¯t do what it was supposed to do. Of course, I¡¯d never seen the ritual before, so I couldn¡¯t necessarily know how it was supposed to look. But I could tell by the expressions in the circle that something had gone wrong. There was something in the air. A breath of madness. And so, Lusu tore her hands away from the Death Cultists on her right and left. ¡°Sint Tenebrae!¡± she yelled, and not a second too soon. The dragon blew fire, obliterating almost everyone in the blink of an eye. Lusu remained, as did a few of the people around her. A shield of some sort had sprouted from the tips of her fingers. All that was left was me, Lusu, Nawlins, and two other cultists. Felt like we were standing on the Sun. Or maybe it felt like the Sun was hacking up its lungs in our direction. The fire spat out, until there was a brief cessation. I took the gun from my side, surprised I had to use it here, now. Its bullets had only been meant for Val, and yet so many had died because of it. I raised the gun, pointing it right in-between the dragon¡¯s eyes. It spat fire. The gun spat a bullet. Gun won. The single bullet ripped through the dragon¡¯s skull, throwing its skull into the air. The magic bullet made a sharp turn, curving back on itself and shooting through the dragon¡¯s right cheek. The dragon¡¯s head jerked to the left, and the bullet took another sharp turn, digging into the dragon¡¯s throat and making its way through the airway, shooting out of the dragon¡¯s crown. The dragon slumped to the ground. My arm felt weak, and the gun felt heavy. I dropped the gun. My whole body felt way too hot: sweat forced its way out of my every pore, and I felt a bit dizzy. Puked on my shoes. Didn¡¯t realize what was happening until I saw the results. Rubbed my temples, raised my gaze to look at Lusu. But she didn¡¯t look like a person, anymore. Nobody did. I turned my gaze even higher, towards the Sun. Now there was something reliable. I collapsed. Interlude 3 Val fell out of the glowing blue wormhole, smacking his head against the concrete. A trash bag fell next to him, but he didn¡¯t have time to think about it. A brutish creature ¡ª with the head of a horse and the body of a strongman ¡ª lifted a crowbar high into the air, then moved to strike Val with it. Val rolled to the side, hearing the *clack* of crowbar hitting sidewalk. In half a second he determined there were three assailants: horse-head, cheetah-head, and frog-tongue. The frog¡¯s tongue lashed out at Val. He rolled out of the way, hitting the alleyway¡¯s wall. Cornered. Just like they wanted him. He saw a window in the building behind the three assailants, a fire escape on its right and a trash can on its left. If he could get to the fire escape behind his three assailants, he might have a chance. Horse-head swung his crowbar at Val again, but Val grabbed the bottom end of it, his hand touching horse-head¡¯s. Val tugged the bar, which pulled horse-head along with it. He back-kicked cheetah-head, while grabbing the other end of horse-head¡¯s crowbar and pushing it against horse-head¡¯s neck. The frog¡¯s tongue wrapped itself around Val¡¯s legs. Horse-head pushed back against Val, causing him to fall to the ground and let go of the crowbar. Smacked his right cheek against the concrete. His mouth tasted like copper. He grabbed the frog¡¯s tongue, yanking at it so that the frog lost his balance and toppled, landing next to Val. Cheetah-head stood back, waiting. Horse-head raised his crowbar again. Val took the pale, skinny frog man and used him as a shield from horse-head¡¯s blow. Frog man puked up blood when the crowbar hit. Val tossed him to the side. Then he kicked horse-head at the side of its knee. He hooked his other foot around horse-head¡¯s ankle. Pulled, and the horse-head smacked his own head against the floor. Val threw himself forward. Wrapped his right arm around horse-head¡¯s left leg, then used his left hand to grab its left foot. Val jerked the foot to the left, much farther than it should go. Horse-head howled. Val spat blood and a tooth. It splashed against horse-head¡¯s leg. Val looked at the Cheetah-head. He wanted to say something, but his mouth hurt. So instead, he put his hand out, beckoning Cheetah-head. ¡°I only fight the ones who run,¡± cheetah-head said, standing there. A smirk swept across his face as he observed his claws. Val stood there. He didn¡¯t know what to do. Lunge at cheetah-head, not knowing its capabilities? Run away, provoking a fight? He stood there. Figured nothing could go wrong if he just stood there. He moved his fingers. Balled them into a fist, then undid the fist. Maybe this was the plan. Get him to stay in one place long enough in case reinforcements were needed. Val darted for the fire escape. The ladder wasn¡¯t down, so he leaped. Grabbed onto the metal bar and began to pull himself up. Sharp pain in his calf. He looked down at cheetah-head, whose teeth dug into his leg. He lifted his free leg, placing its foot on the top of cheetah-head¡¯s head. Pushed, trying to get cheetah-head off. The bar broke. Cheetah-head fell to the ground; Val landed on top of him. Val had the broken bar in his hand, so he struck cheetah-head with it. Again. Again. Again. Val heard the sound of engines. Moved to leave. But then he looked back, at the trash bag that had come with him. The wormhole was gone, but maybe that bag held a key to where he¡¯d been. He moved towards the bag. Ripped it open in one foul motion. Saw his son¡¯s head, placed next to various other chopped up bits. Tears streamed down his face, but sadness wasn¡¯t really what he was feeling. No. He felt anger. He felt rage boiling up, threatening to consume him whole. He felt like a bomb about to go off. He ignored the searing pain in his leg. Tried walking away from the madness. Cheetah-head groaned, spitting blood onto the sidewalk. Val limped towards cheetah-head, grabbed him by the hair on his head. He dragged the creature towards the curb. ¡°Who you?¡± he muttered. ¡°I¡¯m not,¡± cheetah-head spat blood, ¡°tellin¡¯ you a thing.¡± Val didn¡¯t waste his breath. He placed the creature¡¯s mouth on the street¡¯s curb. Lifted his leg up and stomped on the back of its head. Teeth cracked. The creature would probably have screamed, if it hadn¡¯t died instantly. ¡°Talk, frog?¡± Val spat. He began to limp towards the frog, only to hear the sound of motorcycles. He took the two steps needed to get to the trashcan. ¡°Die, scum!¡± one of the cyclists yelled. He took the lid off the trash can, throwing it at the motorcyclist. The cyclist got knocked to the side. His leg got crushed by his own motorcycle, and he screamed. Val¡¯s face cracked into a smile. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª The Angel of Death fell from the portal and onto the concrete sidewalk, holding her arms out so as to protect her face. It felt strange. Not the fall ¡ª that didn¡¯t actually hurt. It wasn¡¯t even the way that Monster had flung her into the wormhole ¡ª that was strange, but it felt so far away. What felt strange was the lack of urgency. For the centuries that she¡¯d acted as the Angel of Death, she¡¯d always felt that urgency in her gut. It was the need to get at the souls and take them. It always guided her, always pushed her towards her next destination. But she didn¡¯t feel that. No, she felt like she had so many years ago, when she¡¯d stopped her death by becoming the Angel of Death. She felt empty. She felt afraid. She felt alone. She¡¯d been alone for a long, long time. But without the urgency, she really felt it. ¡°Hello,¡± a voice said from behind her. She lifted her head up, blinking a couple times, trying to really get a sense of her surroundings. She was in an alleyway. Motorcycles rushed past her, and she noticed a trashcan on her right. She turned around and saw a broken fire escape. She also saw what she thought to be a man. He looked at ease, wearing a red vest, white pants, and nothing else. He stood barefoot on the sidewalk, which the Angel of Death found odd, since the sidewalks seemed relatively dirty. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Oddest of all was his skin, which consisted blots of color moving all across his body. He almost looked like a human kaleidoscope, all the colors of the rainbow mixing. ¡°You have me at a disadvantage,¡± she said. ¡°A rarity, I assure you.¡± The man chuckled. ¡°I¡¯m sure it is. I¡¯m sure it is.¡± ¡°Who are you?¡± she asked. ¡°You, in a way. Well, I¡¯m being a bit facetious when I put it that way.¡± Unamused, she merely repeated herself: ¡°Who are you?¡± ¡°Me? Why, I¡¯m the Angel of Death.¡± ¡°Surely you¡¯re joking,¡± she said. ¡°Nope.¡± ¡°Where am I?¡± ¡°Five-hundred years in the future.¡± ¡°And you¡¯re the Angel of Death here?¡± ¡°Exactly.¡± ¡°You seem relaxed,¡± she said. ¡°I am.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t feel it?¡± ¡°Now it seems you¡¯re the one who has me at a disadvantage.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not worried about all the souls you need to harvest,¡± she said. ¡°No. Things are different now.¡± ¡°They can¡¯t be so different,¡± she said. She walked closer to him, not fully believing her ears, her eyes. This was the future, so it made sense that time had changed. But it wasn¡¯t that. She didn¡¯t really care how things went this far in the future. Because as she came to realize, she must¡¯ve died. If this man was standing before her, she must¡¯ve died. For a while, she thought she never would. One weight was lifted off her shoulders, only for another one to be thrown on. Yes, she would die like everything else. Finally, the brash thing she¡¯d done centuries ago wouldn¡¯t really matter. Then again, she was going to die. After all the death she¡¯d seen, she was going to die. It bothered her that a man had taken her position. A man? The Angel of Death? ¡°Or maybe they are,¡± the Angel of Death said, her milky white finger touching the man¡¯s kaleidoscopic face. ¡°A man becoming the Angel of Death. Never thought I¡¯d see it. I suppose I didn¡¯t, in my lifetime.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not man.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t look like any lady I¡¯ve ever seen,¡± the Angel of Death said. ¡°That¡¯s because I¡¯m no lady, either.¡± ¡°Then what are you?¡± A chuckle. ¡°Isn¡¯t it funny how people always mistake androgyny for masculinity?¡± ¡°You¡¯re androgynous,¡± she said. ¡°Yes,¡± they said. ¡°¡®They¡¯ pronouns, if you don¡¯t mind.¡± ¡°¡®They¡¯ is plural,¡± she said. ¡°Trust me,¡± they said. ¡°And anyway, you¡¯re five hundred years in the future. Is my gender really the most interesting thing?¡± ¡°I suppose not.¡± ¡°Come with me, if you don¡¯t mind,¡± they said. ¡°We have a lot to talk about.¡± ¡°I imagine we do,¡± she said, looking around her at the buildings that stood like towers ¡ª at the sidewalks littered with gum, at the motorcycles rolling across the streets. ¡°I imagine we do.¡± ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª Val held a scrawny freak by the neck, raising the thing in the air. The two were on the roof, mere inches from the edge. Six corpses surrounded them in a semi-circle. ¡°B¡¯ck,¡± Val muttered, less a word and more a gravelly growl. It was strange for him. Back in the past, he¡¯d been able to make himself known. Years of education and attention had been poured into making sure he was the perfect hero ¡ª the man with the proper pose and proper voice, who could say what he want when he wanted to say it. Now his mouth was little more than sore gums. Now, he spoke with his body. Though really, was that so much of a change from before? Sure, his words sounded nice, but they¡¯d never been a match for the physicality of his being. They¡¯d never been much more than window dressing for the body, which had had so much time put into it, so much effort put into it. ¡°I can¡¯t go back,¡± the freak hissed, legs dangling. ¡°I¡¯ll fall off.¡± Val wanted to squeeze the freak dry ¡ª pummel him into the ground, exsanguinate him and see if the stupidity was visible in the bones. He¡¯d killed the rest for not understanding. He took a breath of air, trying to snuff out the fire burning in his heart. No. He would have to try something else. He set the freak down. The freak almost let out a smile when his feet touched the ground, but then Val let go and pushed on the freak¡¯s shoulders. The freak gave a confused look, but nonetheless sat down on the ground, right near the edge of the roof. Val took a couple steps back, then put up four fingers. The freak looked at Val askew for a second, but then Val took a menacing step forward. Looking at all the corpses strewn along the floor, the freak said, ¡°Four words?¡± Val nodded his head. Looking the freak straight in the eyes, Val smiled his bloody smile. Then, he began to run in place. ¡°First word, ¡®Run,¡± the freak said. Val shook his head no. ¡°Jog?¡± No. ¡°Uh, sprint.¡± No. ¡°Go?¡± Val nodded his head, then put up two fingers. ¡°Word two,¡± the freak said. Val turned around, so that he was no longer facing the freak. He bent both of his arms over his shoulder, so that his thumbs were pointing at his backside. ¡°Spine?¡± No. ¡°Back?¡± Val shook his head yes again. He put up four fingers. ¡°Fourth word,¡± the freak said. Val nodded his head. He stood there for a second, trying to think of how to describe this one. It was an abstract concept. What did it mean? He got on the ground, curling himself into a ball, into the fetal position. ¡°Egg,¡± the freak said. Val shook his head no, and began to stretch his legs out. He put his hands and legs in the air, moving them about and pretending to cry like a small child. ¡°Sex,¡± the freak said. Val shook his head no again. Got on his knees and imitated a kid licking a lollipop. The freak didn¡¯t say anything, so Val slowly got up off his knees. He turned to look at the freak, who looked back at him with nothing more than confusion. Why couldn¡¯t the freak understand? Why was this whole future so stupid? In a fit of rage, Val punted the freak off the roof. The screams of the freak could be heard, when an Angel of Death walked onto the scene. There were two of them, in fact: the one from the future, and the one he¡¯d made love to. ¡°Time,¡± the future¡¯s Angel of Death said, his skin a kaleidoscope of color. ¡°You want to go back in time.¡± 4.1 I dreamed. It was a better way of living. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª My hands tingled. I felt powerful. ¡°You¡¯re not ready to fight,¡± Val told me, as he drove the car down the road. The two of us had just left Jewell¡¯s. We were on our way to Demersi¡¯s. ¡°What I need is for you to look as menacing as possible. Do you understand?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, thinking of how beautiful my sword looked. It was in the trunk, but I couldn¡¯t wait to get my hands on it again. We parked outside of Demersi¡¯s Sins. It seemed pretty quiet, since not many cars were parked here. It was a bit early to be gambling ¡ª the Sun was still high in the sky. Val and I got out of the car. Made our way to the back. Val slipped the key in and opened the trunk. The trunk looked more like an arsenal. I counted three swords, four guns, a mace, a garotte, and a couple of weapons I didn¡¯t even recognize. ¡°You want a gun?¡± Val asked me. I almost blurted, ¡°No.¡± There were several times in my life when I¡¯d thought about carrying a gun. Every time I¡¯d wanted to use it on myself, not somebody else. I figured it would¡¯ve been nice to want to use it on somebody else. I wished I had it in me to shoot at another living being. I took a breath and spoke calmly, ¡°No.¡± Val didn¡¯t seem to care how long it took me to come up with my answer. He took the garotte and slipped it into his pocket. Lifted up his pants leg and slipped a gun into the ankle holster. Then he took the Godkiller. Smiled, as it gleamed in the light of midday. ¡°Damn fine weapon,¡± he said, laughing. ¡°Damn fine,¡± I said. For some reason, I didn¡¯t feel jealousy. No, I took my own sword out of the trunk and felt a sense of pride. This is mine. I helped make this, with my own hands. Smiled, slipping it into my scabbard. As we walked towards the casino, I felt a sense of uncontrollable pride. I¡¯d seen a lot of shit in my life. I¡¯d been plenty ashamed and plenty horrified. Val had needed to drag me kicking and screaming into this prophesied quest. Now that I was here ¡ª now that I was committed ¡ª that all changed. I had a mission. The mission made me unstoppable. ¡°Mind if I do the honors?¡± I asked, standing in front of the big oak doors that led into the casino. He smiled, nodding at me. It was a smile of warmth, of friendship. It was the sort of smile I¡¯d needed to see. I grabbed the copper door handles. They were thick bars, made to look like they had vines spiraling down them. I pulled, opening the doors. There were eight guys in the casino: three at the craps table, three at the blackjack table, one at the bar, and one at the roulette wheel. Four of them were workers dressed in formal attire: white button-down shirts with black bow ties and dress pants. The four customers at the craps and blackjack tables were varying levels of casual, with one of them wearing a floral shirt, khakis, and sandals. ¡°I¡¯d like to see Demersi,¡± Val yelled. ¡°Who will take me to him?¡± The bartender, who was closest to us, looked at the guy in charge of the roulette wheel. After a brief glance, the bartender said, ¡°He¡¯s not here right now. You can gamble without him.¡± ¡°I wouldn¡¯t mind making a bet,¡± Val said, walking towards the bartender. ¡°I make drinks, not bets,¡± the bartender said. ¡°I bet Demersi¡¯s here,¡± Val said. ¡°I¡¯d bet your life you¡¯re wrong. Lying, even.¡± The bartender coughed, looking down at the floor, then straight back at Val. ¡°You¡¯d bet my life?¡± ¡°If you¡¯re right, I¡¯d let you live,¡± Val said. ¡°If you were wrong, I¡¯d kill you.¡± Everything grew quiet. The guys at the craps and blackjack tables stopped talking. All eyes were one Val and the bartender. ¡°I don¡¯t want thing to get rough, so¨C¡± ¡°I don¡¯t care how rough things get,¡± Val said. ¡°Lemme pour you a drink,¡± the bartender said, ¡°on the house.¡± He turned towards the bottles, only to have Val grab him by the shoulder. The bartender grabbed a tall green bottle and swung around, swiping at Val with it. Val ducked, unsheathed his sword, and slashed the guy¡¯s neck open. Murmurs in the casino. No one yelled, but the three workers all moved towards Val. Val bent over, taking the gun out of his holster and pointing it at the workers. ¡°Freeze, you spineless shit-eating sycophants!¡± Vall roared. ¡°You will take me to see Demersi, or I will kill you.¡± My head was buzzing, but in a good way. I knew I should be horrified. Val was doing a terrible thing ¡ª killing people, for barely any reason at all. But there was a sense of power. They were in his way, and he could kill them. He had a destiny to fulfill, so he felt the world would do its best to keep him alive. So why not go mad? Why not vent all the anger and frustration and hurt onto fellow man? *BANG* Val shot someone. I froze. He slammed his hand against the bar¡¯s countertop, vaulting over it. I was frozen. Terrified. This wasn¡¯t how life was supposed to work. One of the dealers grabbed my arm. His hand felt cold. The barrel of the gun felt colder against my head. I wanted to say something, anything. But I couldn¡¯t. My body felt so damn cold. ¡°I¡¯ve got your friend!¡± the dealer holding me yelled. ¡°Come out with¨C¡± *BANG* Blood on my shirt. The dealer let go of me. Val had popped out from behind the bar and shot the dealer. I turned to look at the last dealer. He had both his hands up ¡ª no gun in them. The other dealer ¡ª the first one Val had shot ¡ª still had a gun in his limp hand. The living dealer said, ¡°I¡¯ll take you to see Demersi.¡± Val hopped back over the counter. ¡°That¡¯s all I wanted.¡± Val followed the dealer and I followed Val through a door into a hallway which led to another door. The dealer opened it and Val entered. I followed. Inside, Demersi sat at a desk. He wore his astronaut suit. The desk matched the walls ¡ª mahogany. Stellavia sat on the corner of the desk, stars twinkling all across her body. The man stared at us, his helmet sitting on his desk, his eyes focused. ¡°Sir, he¨C¡± the dealer began, but Demersi waved him off. ¡°I heard the gunshots,¡± he said, eyeing the gun in Val¡¯s hand. ¡°You can go.¡± The dealer nodded his head and left the room. ¡°How do I find Hostem?¡± Val asked. ¡°Everyone knows where he is,¡± Demersi said, his accent carrying a hint of poshness. ¡°He can be found in the house that stands next to the Celestial Wall.¡± ¡°How do I summon him?¡± Val asked. ¡°We need to talk, first.¡± ¡°We¡¯re talking,¡± Val said. Demersi smiled, as if he was talking to a child. He leaned forward. ¡°We need to discuss other things.¡± Val pointed the gun at Demersi. ¡°No, we don¡¯t.¡± ¡°You know the suit stops that sort of thing. It¡¯d take a very special weapon¨C¡± Stolen novel; please report. ¡°You don¡¯t have your helmet on,¡± Val said. ¡°I don¡¯t need my helmet.¡± *BANG* Demersi opened his fist, which in the blink of the eye had moved to protect his face. A used bullet *clinked* onto the desk. ¡°As I was saying, we need to talk about some other things first. Here, please, have a seat.¡± Demersi gestured towards the two chairs sitting in front of him. Val took one. I sheepishly took the other. ¡°Hasn¡¯t there been enough blood?¡± Demersi asked. ¡°The Hero already killed all of Hostem¡¯s children. Can¡¯t we leave one god to run the world?¡± ¡°Clearly not,¡± Val said. ¡°That maniac is looking to kill himself, and he wants to take the rest of the world with him.¡± ¡°I¡¯ve been talking to him,¡± Demersi said. ¡°But that¡¯s all it¡¯s been, isn¡¯t that right? Talk?¡± ¡°All his children are dead,¡± Demersi said. ¡°He¡¯s angry. These wounds will take a long time to heal.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t need his wounds to heal,¡± Val said. ¡°I need his psychological wounds to be replaced by physical ones.¡± ¡°Do you think we can do better than Hostem? He and his kin kept this world right for a lot of years.¡± ¡°Maybe if your idea of ¡®right¡¯ is genocide,¡± Val said. ¡°Every year the gods killed people.¡± ¡°They felt they needed to.¡± ¡°They shouldn¡¯t have.¡± ¡°Sentience is a dangerous thing,¡± Demersi said. ¡°The gods had to make sure¨C¡± ¡°Bullshit.¡± ¡°¨Cthat we didn¡¯t grow too quickly. They had to make sure we didn¡¯t put too much of a strain on the world¡¯s resources.¡± ¡°Fuck the world.¡± ¡°Excuse me?¡± ¡°You heard me perfectly well,¡± Val said. ¡°I¡¯m telling the world to go fuck itself.¡± ¡°You¨C¡± ¡°The gods killed my mother when I was seven.¡± ¡°I¡¯m¨C¡± ¡°Is there a good explanation for that?¡± Val asked. ¡°Are you truly arrogant enough to sit there and tell me that was for a good cause?¡± Demersi took a deep breath. ¡°In a word? Yes.¡± ¡°Fuck you.¡± ¡°One of the men I¡¯m guessing you just killed was a father.¡± ¡°I don¡¯t give a shit!¡± ¡°You don¡¯t think that makes you the same as¨C¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t come here for psychoanalysis,¡± Val said. ¡°I came here for the answer to a simple question.¡± ¡°What makes you think you¡¯re any different than¨C¡± ¡°I don¡¯t give a shit,¡± Val yelled, standing up. He leaned in, just an inch from Demersi¡¯s face. ¡°That belligerent dilettante of a bartender you¡¯ve got out there should¡¯ve listened when I asked him to take me to you. He shouldn¡¯t have given me a hard time. He didn¡¯t have to give me a hard time. And quite frankly, I don¡¯t give a shit about him, or any of the guys I¡¯ve killed. I don¡¯t give a shit about him and all the weaklings who are moronic enough to get in my way. You want to know what separates me from the gods? I have power. I¡¯m more godly than those effete fucks could ever have dreamed of being. Hate to break it to you, but I¡¯m the new god in town. The old gods are nothing more than dry bones.¡± ¡°Except for Hostem,¡± Demersi said. ¡°Who¡¯ll be dead soon enough,¡± Val said. Demersi turned to look at me, reminding me I existed: ¡°It would seem that of the two of you, you¡¯re more likely to be my friend.¡± I looked over at Val. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°As my friend,¡± Demersi said, ¡°would you speak to your friend?¡± ¡°It wouldn¡¯t matter what I said,¡± I explained, thinking back on how Val had beat me on my own porch. ¡°How do I summon him?¡± Val said. ¡°How do I summon Hostem?¡± Demersi sighed. ¡°In the house next to the Celestial Wall, there¡¯s only one room. It¡¯s got stone floor, with a big crack in the center. Throw three seeds into the crack.¡± Val nodded his head, turning to leave. Stellavia spoke up first: ¡°If you succeed, come back here.¡± Demersi looked surprised at that. Val, somehow, didn¡¯t. He walked towards Demersi, a lusty smile stretching across his face. He leaned in, merely an inch from her face: ¡°You can come with me anytime.¡± She flashed a condescending smile ¡ª exactly the sort of smile he deserved. Put her hand on his chest and pushed him back. ¡°Sorry,¡± she said. ¡°That¡¯s not exactly what I meant.¡± Val turned and stormed out the room. I didn¡¯t follow, at least not immediately. ¡°I hope you¡¯ll keep a leash on him,¡± Demersi said. ¡°You¡¯ll need to, if the world¡¯s going to survive.¡± ¡°Can¡¯t put a leash on a freight train,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± I turned to leave. As I left, he said, ¡°Just be a friend of the world¡¯s. Do what¡¯s best for it.¡± I stood there, my hand on the door handle. ¡°I¡¯ll try,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s all I ever do.¡± I left the room, left the building, and ended up finding Val in the car. ¡°Took you a minute,¡± he said. ¡°Had to make sure we had all the information we needed,¡± I said. ¡°We did.¡± ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± I said. ¡°You always are. I just wasn¡¯t confident enough, is all.¡± He drove the car out of the parking lot. ¡°We have to work on your confidence.¡± ¡°Maybe killing a god¡¯ll make me confident,¡± I said, brushing my hair out of my face, letting out a laugh. It sounded strained, even to my ears. He didn¡¯t respond. I figured he didn¡¯t feel the need to. The two of us drove like that for a while, passing through a long stretch of trees. A car was behind us, but I didn¡¯t think much of it. I felt a little lightheaded, my mind buzzing with everything that had happened ¡ª Val beating the shit out of me, the two of us getting the Godkiller and my own sword, him killing all those dealers and then Demersi talking to us in his office. It was Stellavia who really stuck in my head, though. I hadn¡¯t thought about it when I was standing next to her ¡ª I¡¯d been too afraid at the time. But she was beautiful. She might¡¯ve been the most beautiful creature I¡¯d ever seen, with those stars moving across her body. I noticed the same car in the rear-view mirror. It was unmistakable: a bright baby blue Chevrolet Bel Air. In fact, I thought it might have been following us ever since we¡¯d left Demersi¡¯s. ¡°Don¡¯t look back,¡± I told Val. ¡°That¡¯s right,¡± he said. ¡°Don¡¯t feel so many regrets.¡± ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°Literally. Don¡¯t look behind you.¡± ¡°Why?¡± he barked. ¡°What the fu¨C¡± ¡°Somebody following us.¡± ¡°You sure?¡± ¡°I think,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m never sure about anything.¡± Val laughed, shaking his head. ¡°Least I¡¯m honest,¡± I said, feeling fear roll its way up my spine. There was no time for self doubt. I felt like I might die. ¡°The car behind us?¡± he asked. ¡°Told you not to look back.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not abnormal to look through the rear-view mirror,¡± he said. ¡°There¡¯s no reason to¨C¡± *BANG* The car swerved. I screamed. We hit a tree. Darkness. 4.2 Wet face. Blood. Blinked my eyes open. Wrecked car. Crashed against a tree. I put my hand on my forehead. Blood, but not too much. A scrape, really. I looked over to my left. A lot more blood. Too much blood. Val had a hole in the back of his head. Me. Screaming. Tried opening the car door, but it wouldn¡¯t budge. Fist hit glass a couple times, until finally it *CRACKED*. I fell out of the car, my shoulder hitting the grass. Shoulder hurt, but everything else did, too. Body felt like rubber ¡ª hard to move. Still made my way to the other side of the car. Car door opened. I pulled Val out. ¡°Oh god,¡± I muttered. ¡°Oh, god. Oh god.¡± He lay there on the grass, unmoving. His chest just wasn¡¯t moving. I put my finger under his nose. He wasn¡¯t breathing. ¡°Val,¡± I said. ¡°Not now, Val. I thought we were¡­ I didn¡¯t even want to do this! Do you hear me? I didn¡¯t want to do this.¡± My head lay on his unmoving chest. His chest was wet, now. Tears. ¡°I didn¡¯t want do this,¡± I whispered. ¡°You made me do this. You can¡¯t go now. Not like this. Not now.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t cry for that monster,¡± a man from behind me said. I turned around and saw the last living dealer from Demersi¡¯s. He had a gun pointed at my head. ¡°Hostem¡¯s going to destroy the world,¡± I said, ¡°and this was the man who was going to stop him. Don¡¯t you get that?¡± ¡°He,¡± the dealer said, ¡°was a monster.¡± I looked at Val, blood oozing from his head, soaking his blond hair. He didn¡¯t have a monstrous face ¡ª didn¡¯t have any of the hate or loneliness you¡¯d expect from a monster. Really, he looked like a hero. But the dealer was right, wasn¡¯t he? Val was a monster. There was no way around it ¡ª around the killing, the arrogance, the violent ambition required to even think about killing a god. Still, he¡¯d been humanity¡¯s last hope. And now he was gone. I noticed the sword hanging by Val¡¯s side. Unsheathed it. ¡°What are you doing?¡± the dealer asked. I crouched there, sword in hand. ¡°Get away from here.¡± ¡°What do you think you¡¯re¨C¡± ¡°Get away from here,¡± I said. The sword felt heavy in my hand. Hot. My hands felt like they were surging with energy. ¡°Fuck you,¡± the dealer said. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t have travelled with that murderer.¡± *CLANG* *BANG* The dealer collapsed. Putting it all together in my head, I realized that the bullet had ricocheted off the sword, hitting the dealer. He¡¯d shot himself. I dropped the sword, looking at my hand. It shook. Felt powerful. I grabbed it with my other hand. Slowly felt the power drain from me. Looked down at Val. Dead. Dead as could fucking be. A pillar of light shot up out of the ground. Out of it stepped the Angel of Death. ¡°Death begets death,¡± she said, looking down on me. ¡°I just got back from Demersi¡¯s.¡± ¡°No,¡± I said. ¡°No, you can¡¯t do this. Val, he¡­ Val has a mission!¡± I yelled. ¡°He and I are on a quest. We have to complete our quest, don¡¯t you see?¡± ¡°I¡¯m on a mission of my own,¡± the Angel of Death said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, George. I know you¡¯ve seen a lot of me over the years.¡± ¡°No!¡± I yelled. ¡°No! Fuck you! I have seen too much of you!¡± She crouched down, her knees stuck outward and her wings spread across the sky. ¡°I have to do this.¡± ¡°No!¡± I yelled. ¡°George,¡± she said, her voice soft, her milk-white hand grabbing mine. ¡°I have to do it. You have to understand.¡± ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± I said, tears streaming from my face. I pulled her hand towards my face. I was getting her hand wet. ¡°You¡¯ve taken so much from me.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the way things are,¡± she said. ¡°Life¡¯s loss. That¡¯s part of the deal.¡± ¡°No,¡± I whispered. ¡°George¨C¡± ¡°No!¡± I yelled. I grabbed the Godkiller with my free hand and picked it up. It was so damn heavy, but every second it was in my grasp, I felt stronger. Every second, it got easier to wield. ¡°I¡¯m tired of being pushed around by the forces of nature.¡± ¡°George¨C¡± ¡°No!¡± I yelled. ¡°No, no, no! I didn¡¯t want this, understand? I didn¡¯t ask for this. It¡¯s the world that told me I had to go on this journey. It¡¯s the world that railroaded me into this crazy fucked up life. And the one thing that had any hope of consoling me was Val¡¯s confidence. I needed the big, strong Alpha Dog to give me confidence. But now you¡¯re trying to take me away? That¡¯s not how prophecy¡¯s supposed to work. It¡¯s not how destiny is supposed to work. So, no. Sorry. But you can¡¯t have Val. Not now. Not this time.¡± The Angel of Death looked at me ¡ª sadder and more serious than I¡¯d ever seen her. ¡°George,¡± she said, ¡°I have to take his soul.¡± ¡°I understand that,¡± I said. ¡°I get it. But just like you have to do what you have to do, I have to do what I have to do.¡± ¡°You think this is what you have to do?¡± she asked. There was a hint of challenge in her voice, mixing with the sadness. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, voice quivering. ¡°I need Val to fulfill my destiny. I need Val to save the world. So I¡¯m going to sit here with the Godkiller, and you¡¯re going to go away.¡± ¡°You think he¡¯ll come back to life if I don¡¯t take the soul?¡± she asked. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯d like to find out. I¡¯d like to try.¡± She sighed, looking down at the floor. ¡°Do you know?¡± I asked. ¡°Do you know what happens if you don¡¯t take the soul?¡± ¡°I¡¯ve always been honest with you, George,¡± she said. ¡°Most people I don¡¯t give a damn about, because frankly I have neither the time nor inclination to give a damn about them. Most people hate me. Most people aren¡¯t worth more than the time it takes to collect their soul.¡± ¡°What are you¨C¡± ¡°But I¡¯ve always been honest with you,¡± the Angel of Death said. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s because I feel bad about the way things went with you brother. Or maybe I just like how interesting you are. I don¡¯t know. But I¡¯ve always been honest with you, and that¡¯s kept me going through some of the terrible things I¡¯ve done. So I¡¯ll give it to you straight: I have no damn idea what happens if I don¡¯t take the soul, but I¡¯m afraid to find out. My job is to make sure no one finds out.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said, trying to wipe the tears away from my face. Of course, it was stupid to try and wipe away the tears. There¡¯d always be more. In a world like this? There¡¯d always be more. ¡°I have to do this,¡± I said. ¡°I have to save Val. I have to make sure¨C¡± ¡°I understand,¡± she said, all the anger rushing out of her voice. In a strange way, she seemed calm. ¡°I just want you to understand what you¡¯re doing.¡± ¡°But I don¡¯t understand what I¡¯m doing! Not even you understand how this works!¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± she said. ¡°There¡¯s no rulebook for this. There¡¯s no way I can know what¡¯s going to happen here.¡± ¡°I have to do it.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not saying you can¡¯t,¡± she told me, ¡°I¡¯m just saying I don¡¯t know what will happen. He might come back to life, but he might not.¡± ¡°I have to¨C¡± ¡°I¡¯m not trying to stop you, George,¡± she said. ¡°So shut up, and listen to what I¡¯m trying to tell you. I¡¯m telling you to think about what you¡¯re doing. I¡¯m telling you to think about it. Is this what you want? Is the reward worth the risk?¡± I calmed down ¡ª slowed my breathing ¡ª thought about what I was doing. I hadn¡¯t wanted to go on this mission in the first place. This quest was just my destiny pushing me around, right? Well, now I had to decide if I actually wanted to do it. I had to decide if we should kill Hostem to save the world. I mean, damn. If a god wanted to kill the universe he¡¯d created, why shouldn¡¯t he? What possible purpose could there be, if Hostem himself couldn¡¯t find meaning in the world? I sat and I thought. Maybe Hostem did see meaning in the world. Maybe he didn¡¯t really want to destroy it. I mean, was he omniscient? Did he know everything that was going to happen? Somebody had to ¡ª if destiny was a thing, some sort of being had to know how the universe ended, and all the steps that were taken along the way. Maybe he¡¯d fulfilled his purpose, but the universe hadn¡¯t. Maybe threatening to kill us all was his way of giving our lives meaning ¡ª of making us think about what our own meanings could be. I knew the meaning of my life, of course. I¡¯d been given a destiny. I¡¯d been given a purpose. So what if it didn¡¯t come from within? So what if I needed to take meaning from some other source? The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation. I had meaning. Everyone else did, too, but I didn¡¯t have to worry about that. Asking about the meaning of life was absurd. I just had to think about the meaning of one life ¡ª my life. Everyone else could figure out their own meanings ¡ª forge their own meanings, if they couldn¡¯t find any external ones. ¡°Well?¡± the Angel of Death asked. ¡°What¡¯s it going to be? Can I take the soul?¡± ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª The Angel of Death sat there with me for three days and three nights. I didn¡¯t eat ¡ª only had a little bit of water. Somehow, it didn¡¯t seem to matter. What could I possibly be worried about? Starving to death? Ha. We would talk for long hours, then follow it with long hours of lonely silence. At the time, I didn¡¯t really think about what that meant ¡ª what the ramifications of that could possibly be. I remember asking her at one point, ¡°How¡¯d you end up like this?¡± Angelic, I meant. She told me: ¡°I¡¯d been human, just like you. Sad and pathetic, as all humans are. But at the same time, I had an undeniable beauty. Didn¡¯t know it then, but I really was a beauty.¡± ¡°Still are,¡± I said, in a hushed tone. ¡°Thanks,¡± she said, ¡°but you don¡¯t need to tell me. I know.¡± That made me love her all the more. ¡°I¡¯d been stupid, too. Wasn¡¯t my fault. When you¡¯re young, you don¡¯t have enough life experience to be anything but stupid. You make mistakes so that you can learn how to make sure they don¡¯t happen.¡± ¡°What does this have to do with you becoming the Angel of Death?¡± ¡°I made a mistake,¡± the Angel said. ¡°Fell off a horse while riding into town. Broke my spine.¡± ¡°God,¡± I muttered. ¡°The Angel of Death was old and sad when I met him ¡ª a ghost more than a spirit,¡± she told me. ¡°Wore a shroud so that most of his body couldn¡¯t be seen. The only thing I was able to see was that bony finger of his. When I lay there on the ground, back cracked and tears streaming down my face, he took a long time standing over me. Took a long time to move to a kneeling position. I¡¯ll never forget the way his bones cracked before his face was a few inches above mine. ¡°¡®You¡¯re scared,¡¯ he told me. ¡°¡®Yeah,¡¯ I told him. ¡°¡®I can make it all go away,¡¯ he told me. ¡°¡®How?¡¯ I asked him. ¡°¡®It won¡¯t be pretty,¡¯ he told me. ¡®You¡¯ll have to see death all the time.¡¯ ¡°¡®I don¡¯t want to die,¡¯ I told him. ¡°¡®Are you sure?¡¯ he asked me. ¡°¡®Yes,¡¯ I told him. ¡°I lost consciousness, then. When I woke up, I was the Angel of Death. My back felt fine, and I¡¯d grown wings. The problem was this pit in my stomach, which told me that I had to go somewhere. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, I was in front of a corpse. My stomach told me to reach my hand down the corpse¡¯s throat, so I did. My stomach told me I was holding onto a soul. Then it told me to take the soul away. I did, only to repeat the process all over again.¡± She didn¡¯t seem to be looking at me anymore. I wondered if she was lost in the thoughts, or in the fight with that feeling ¡ª that desire to collect souls. Some time after that, Val gasped for air. I looked over and saw that he¡¯d been healed. He sprung into a sitting position, stammering, confused. I¡¯d never seen him confused or inarticulate. It was strange, really. But I supposed death was as good an excuse as any. ¡°George, I just¨C I just saw¡­ I just saw the strangest, most beautiful thing.¡± ¡°This wasn¡¯t supposed to happen,¡± the Angel of Death said, getting up. ¡°I¡¯ve no idea what the consequences could be.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± I said. A pillar of light formed behind her. She turned around, stepping into it. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª The diner felt eerily quiet, though I might¡¯ve just been projecting. ¡°You coming off something?¡± the waiter asked, pencil and pad in hand. I wiped the sweat off my brow, looking up at him in confusion. ¡°Drugs, I mean,¡± the waiter said. ¡°Are you coming down off a drug or somethin¡¯? I ask, ¡®cause I¡¯m a recoverin¡¯ drug addict, and I know how it is. It¡¯s tough, man. It¡¯s tough.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll just have coffee for now, thanks,¡± I said, deciding not to make eye contact. Did I really look that bad? ¡°You sure that¡¯s a good idea?¡± the waiter asked. ¡°With the jitters you got?¡± ¡°Just coffee,¡± I said, a little louder than I meant to. The waiter widened his eyes a little, looking annoyed. ¡°Alright, buddy. Whatever you say.¡± I was sweating too much. I unwrapped the napkin from the silverware. Dabbed my forehead with it. Damn. Damn. Damn. Godkiller had been published and it was a roaring success. I could¡¯ve been anywhere, doing anything. But I was here, now, in a diner sweating like a hog. Val had asked to meet me here, at this time. On the one hand, it was considerate. I hadn¡¯t seen the Sun much during the past couple months. Slept during the day, stayed up at night. So asking to meet me now, when the moons were high in the sky and most people had gone to sleep, was considerate. That¡¯s what I tried to tell myself, anyway. I couldn¡¯t shake the thought that there would be few witnesses, if he tried to murder me. Wouldn¡¯t that be what I deserved? I mean, the guy had saved the world, and there I¡¯d been, blowing the fucking whistle, letting the whole world know what we¡¯d done and wondering if it¡¯d all been worth it. I traced the line in my palm. Found the motion soothing. ¡°Your coffee,¡± the waiter said, setting down the mug and pouring me a cup. He left the pot on the table. God, he was an asshole. I was thankful he was dumb, actually. Meant he didn¡¯t recognize me. Made him a rare breed. Val entered the diner ¡ª scanned the place like a predator, even though I was the only customer they had. Once he¡¯d swept the room, his eyes locked on me. He walked towards the booth and sat across from me. Before he got a word out, I began talking: ¡°I know this is tough, but I used a pseudonym, so they don¡¯t really know it¡¯s¨C Val raised his hand, so I stopped mid-sentence. ¡°I¡¯m not upset you had doubts,¡± Val said. ¡°I¡¯m not upset about the truth in the book and I¡¯m not upset that you wrote it. You¡¯re a writer. Fish swim and writers write. I get all that.¡± ¡°I¨C¡± Val slammed his hand against the table, so I stopped talking. ¡°Lemme make one thing straight,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m not listening to anything you have to say. You don¡¯t get to talk to me anymore, you got that?¡± I didn¡¯t respond. ¡°I¡¯m pissed off,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯m pissed off because you lied, George. You fucking lied to the world about what you did.¡± He leaned in real close, getting an inch within my face. He was like a wild animal, and I was some prey. He growled, ¡°I didn¡¯t kill Hostem. You did.¡± My cheeks were wet. I raised my head towards the ceiling. No. It wasn¡¯t true. That seemed true but it wasn¡¯t true. ¡°I have nightmares, George,¡± he said. ¡°I never used to have nightmares.¡± ¡°I¨C¡± Val slammed his fist into the table. ¡°You don¡¯t speak. I just wanted to let you know the gravity of your actions. I wanted to let you know that I see things in my dreams. Terrible things. I see the Celestial Wall breaking. I see my dead son wrapped up in a bag. And I don¡¯t want to believe it. I don¡¯t know that I believe it. But the Angel of Death and I have spoken. She thinks this could be the end of the world.¡± Val sat there, looking at me, letting the gravity of it all sink in. ¡°The problem wasn¡¯t killing Hostem. The problem was bringing me back to life. If you¡¯d just had a little goddamn confidence, I could¡¯ve been born again, into a better world. Now? Now I think everything¡¯s going to end, one of these days. And it¡¯s going to be your fault.¡± Val got up to leave, but the waiter approached, saying, ¡°You want me to get you something while you go to the bathroom?¡± ¡°Fuck you,¡± Val yelled, shoving the waiter to the floor. He stormed out of the restaurant, while the waiter lay on the floor in shock. ¡°I didn¡¯t kill Hostem,¡± I muttered to myself, tears streaming down my face. ¡°I didn¡¯t destroy the world. It wasn¡¯t like that. He didn¡¯t have a choice. I didn¡¯t kill him. It wasn¡¯t me. I didn¡¯t. I didn¡¯t¡­ I¡­¡± There was no point. Val was gone. I wouldn¡¯t see him for several decades. Those decades seemed to be nothing more than that one conversation, played over and over again in my head, taunting me, horrifying me, hanging over me. 4.3 I dreamed. It was a better way of living. It was maybe an hour after Val had been resuscitated ¡ª an hour after he¡¯d been brought back to life. I drove, while he recovered. I hadn¡¯t said too much, since I didn¡¯t want to startle him. He¡¯d been in something of a daze. But I had to ask: ¡°What was it like?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°You died, Val,¡± I said. ¡°What was it like?¡± ¡°Noth¨C¡± he stopped for a second, then continued, ¡°Nothing. I don¡¯t know if I don¡¯t remember or if nothing was actually there. It¨C it didn¡¯t feel good.¡± ¡°The Angel of Death didn¡¯t take your soul,¡± I said. ¡°Maybe that¡¯s it. That doesn¡¯t mean anything, you know? Doesn¡¯t mean there¡¯s nothing after death. You might just not¡¯ve gotten to the something part.¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± He rolled down the car window, sticking his head out a little. His short blond hair danced in the wind. I was thankful to see a gas station coming up. My stomach growled. Hadn¡¯t eaten in a while. Hadn¡¯t really slept, either. I mean, I hadn¡¯t been moving much, but being around the Angel of Death made me tense. Damn tense. I parked the car outside the station. ¡°You want to come with me, or would you rather wait in the car?¡± ¡°I¡¯ll wait,¡± Val mumbled. ¡°Alright,¡± I said. I got out and walked towards the gas station, stepping over the curb and opening the gas station door. A bell rang and the gas station attendant looked at me. ¡°Pump three,¡± I said, taking out a twenty and slapping them on the counter. I looked at the snacks that lay below on the gas station shelf. It all looked so good: cookies, candy bars, chips. I grabbed two small bags of chips, a bag of sunflower seeds, and a candy bar. Slapped another five onto the counter. The gas station smiled at me. His hair looked a little thin. ¡°Hungry?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, cradling the sunflower seeds and the two chip bags in my arm while I opened the candy bar. ¡°Very.¡± I took a bite. Really hadn¡¯t realized how hungry I was. Everything had been so insane and¨C ¡°Where you going?¡± the attendant asked. ¡°Far,¡± I said, mouth full of chocolate. It was filled with caramel, which made it harder to talk. The attendant let out a bit of a chuckle. ¡°Not much farther left to go.¡± I took another bite of the candy bar. ¡°Friend and I want to see the Celestial Wall.¡± ¡°Ah,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re one o¡¯ those nuts.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, struggling to speak, ¡°one o¡¯ those nuts.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not going to find any more stations on the way there,¡± he told me. ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Wouldn¡¯t have said it if it were a lie,¡± he said, chuckling some more. I slapped another five on the counter. ¡°Better fill the gas cannister, too.¡± ¡°Yep,¡± he said. ¡°You better.¡± I left the gas station, opening the door so that the bell rang again. Threw my candy wrapper into the trash can and walked towards the car. Val sat there. He looked off, still. We were only a day¡¯s ride away from The Celestial Wall. I hoped Val would be ready. I needed him to be ready, just like the world needed him to be ready. But it didn¡¯t look good. Damn it, it just didn¡¯t look good. I threw the chip bags into the car. ¡°If you want some chips, they¡¯re all yours.¡± Val grunted. I filled the car¡¯s tank, then filled the gas cannister. Got back in the car and drove off. Val hadn¡¯t eaten any chips. I rode for a couple hours. Passed by two more gas stations on the way to the Celestial Wall. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª I woke up ¡ª not in the car or in my bed or in some godforsaken burned-down wheat field. I woke up on Lusu¡¯s couch. I stared at the beautiful high ceiling. Made me feel like I was in a temple. I slapped my cheek a couple times, trying to get back into this world, into this timeline. Damn. I really got lost in the timestream, that time. I wondered how long I¡¯d been out for. Shiver rolled down my spine. There was something creepy about being left alone in someone else¡¯s living room. Especially Lusu¡¯s. The last time I¡¯d seen her here, she¡¯d been crying. The time before that, I¡¯d pegged her as a potential murderer. I rolled off the couch, landing on my feet. Felt sore. Must¡¯ve been out for a while. I looked around the room. Had a nice chandelier, which I hadn¡¯t noticed last time. A murder investigation sometimes makes you forget to notice the little things. Which is dumb, since it¡¯s the little things that help you crack the case. I noticed my book, Godkiller, still sitting on the bookshelf. Shook my head, walking into the kitchen. Lusu stood there, pouring herself a drink. She fought a smirk when I entered, setting the bottle on the table. ¡°You¡¯re up. That¡¯s funny. I thought you were dead.¡± I smirked back. ¡°You often leave dead guys laying on your couch?¡± ¡°The Hero took Val¡¯s bed, so that seemed the best place to put you.¡± ¡°What happened back there?¡± She rubbed her hand with her nose. Took a sip of the drink. ¡°I don¡¯t know. I¡­ What¡¯ll you have?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t much feel like drinking right now.¡± ¡°I¡¯m alright with drinking alone,¡± she said, ¡°but only if I¡¯m actually alone. If I¡¯m in someone¡¯s company, I expect them to drink with me.¡± ¡°I want to go for a drive,¡± I said. She set down her glass and gave me a look. ¡°You just got lost in the timestream for three days.¡± ¡°Wow.¡± ¡°You really think driving¡¯s a good idea?¡± ¡°I guess not,¡± I said. I took her shot glass and poured myself a shot. Knocked it back. ¡°I¡¯ll go for a walk.¡± ¡°What are you so desperate to do?¡± ¡°I need to clear my head.¡± ¡°George, we need to talk. That dragon probably turned on us because Val was dead. The instructions were invalid, so¨C¡± ¡°I know. I know that Val¡¯s dead.¡± I wiped sweat off my brow. ¡°I just wish I understood. Wish I knew. Who killed Val. How did he¡­ Why did everyone¡­ I don¡¯t know,¡± I said. ¡°That¡¯s why I¡¯ve gotta go for a walk.¡± ¡°I¡¯ll be here,¡± she said. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, walking out the room. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª I was half-surprised to see that Stellavia¡¯s temple was still open. I was even more surprised when I walked inside. The room was dark, people sitting in the pews, watching a woman dancing at the front of the Church. I stood at the end of the aisle, watching her. She danced like Stellavia had danced, all those years ago. She danced like I remembered Stellavia dancing, back when everything seemed so awful. Then again, wasn¡¯t everything better then? The past was always better than the present ¡ª it was when we¡¯d had less times to make mistakes. I always wished I could live in the past ¡ª make the mistakes, instead of regretting them. But I was projecting. That wasn¡¯t what her dance meant to communicate at all. There was a sort of¡­ I don¡¯t know. Grace? Art? She was beautiful, and I felt like I was a part of her. That¡¯s how I should¡¯ve felt, after all. If she was a representation of the universe, I was a part of her, in a way. But that wasn¡¯t right. Stellavia was supposed to be dead. She was dead, dammit. Then again, hadn¡¯t Val come back to life, only to die again? This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work. Maybe I¡¯d gone mad. Maybe this whole world was my creation. I don¡¯t know. How could I know? Everything came back to haunt me, and I was too crazy to stop fighting. She¡¯s alive. Stellavia¡¯s alive. I was crying. At this point it didn¡¯t really matter, did it? I was a cryer. I was sad. Through it all, that part of my identity had always remained the same. Stellavia danced in the dim light of the temple, lithe limbs flailing about. Her whole body sparkled with stars, with life. If only the real universe had been half so pretty, half so inviting. The lights rose, so I quickly brushed the tears off and made my way to an empty pew. People slowly poured their way out of the temple. It was an interesting sight to see. Some fled, others shuffled. A few mingled, but before long everyone had left. Only Stellavia remained. She hadn¡¯t left the temple often, when I¡¯d known her. ¡°I didn¡¯t realize you were alive,¡± I told her, yelling across the span of the temple. Something about her looked strange ¡ª plain. In the light she¡¯d looked so beautiful, but that didn¡¯t matter. She was alive. She was alive. Dead God, she¡¯s alive. ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re here,¡± I said. ¡°It was good to see you again. Sometimes I thought I wouldn¡¯t miss you. Sometimes I thought the pain would go away. But you know something? It didn¡¯t. Until now, of course. Now it¡¯s like the pain never even existed.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said, staying on the stage, not getting any closer, ¡°but I don¡¯t know you.¡± I laughed. That should¡¯ve bothered me, but I laughed. How important could my identity be, in the face of this? How important could my identity be, compared to the miracle of a friend ¡ª a necessity ¡ª being brought back to life. ¡°I switched bodies with an elf,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t know why I thought you¡¯d recognize me. Look, it¡¯s not important. I¡¯m just an admirer ¡ª an admirer as we all should be. And I¡¯m just so happy to see that you¡¯re alive, that you¡¯re well. You know I thought this was the end of the world?¡± She didn¡¯t respond to what I was saying, which I found odd. But I didn¡¯t want to be ungrateful for the miracle. I didn¡¯t want to push at the illusion so that it broke, so I kept talking, talking to fill the silence, the void. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I neglected you for all those years. I¡¯m sorry I¡­ it was just hard to watch you, sometimes. It was hard to believe anything could be beautiful after,¡± I couldn¡¯t find the words I needed. ¡°Life can seem so miserable, but it isn¡¯t really. Because there¡¯s moments like this ¡ª moments where everything you thought was wrong ends up being right. Doesn¡¯t matter how many times someone dies. They always come back to life, often as something else.¡± Stellavia¡¯s silence would¡¯ve deafened even the strongest of ears. What was she thinking? What did her thoughts look like? What would they sound like, if vocalized? The two of us sat there, her not saying anything and me obviously having said too much. Couldn¡¯t she recognize a miracle when she saw it? Couldn¡¯t she be happy that we¡¯d been reunited, that we could happily be friends? I got up out of the pew and began walking towards her. ¡°Don¡¯t get any closer,¡± Stellavia said. ¡°What?¡± I asked. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± I kept moving closer. ¡°I told you not to get closer.¡± I kept walking towards her. ¡°I came to worship you. Is that so wrong?¡± ¡°Look, I don¡¯t know you.¡± ¡°You know me.¡± ¡°I said I don¡¯t know you.¡± ¡°Same old man ¡ª new flesh,¡± I said. ¡°It¡¯s me, Stellavia. It¡¯s me, George.¡± She stood up when I was within a few feet of her. And it was then I realized what was wrong ¡ª the light wasn¡¯t hitting her body properly. Her skin didn¡¯t have that depth ¡ª that depth which suggested eons of space, which suggested that I could stick my hand in and find nothing but the chill of ancient galaxies. She¡¯d been painted on. She was paint. Mostly painted black, with white dots where stars should be. She was a joke ¡ª a spectacle ¡ª a mockery ¡ª a bastardization ¡ª a pale imitation of the universe that we¡¯d made in an attempt to recreate the real thing. But you couldn¡¯t recreate the real thing, could you? There was no going back. The moment had passed. The spark was gone. I grabbed her arm. ¡°What is this?¡± ¡°I¡¯m not Stellavia,¡± she said. ¡°What¡­¡± My thoughts stumbled. I couldn¡¯t think of what to say. ¡°Get your hands off me!¡± she yelled. I let her go ¡ª no complaints. ¡°How dare you,¡± I yelled. ¡°How fucking dare you.¡± ¡°Get out of here,¡± she said. You finally try and accept the world, after all the grief and misery it caused you. And this is what happens? This is the fucking result? ¡°You bastard. You sacrilegious¨C¡± ¡°Get out of here.¡± ¡°Fuck you,¡± I roared. ¡°How fucking dare you come into her house and mock her like this.¡± I didn¡¯t want to admit it, but tears rolled down my face. I was just so damn mad. ¡°It¡¯s worship,¡± she whimpered. ¡°If you don¡¯t like it, leave.¡± I spat at her feet. I left. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª I stood before Beckett¡¯s house with its chipped white paint and its missing roof tiles. I stood before it and felt comforted. *knock* *knock* *knock* Breathe in, breathe out. Stellavia¡¯s still dead. Stellavia¡¯s still dead and it¡¯s all my fault. I should¡¯ve told the world was Val Rador really was. I should¡¯ve said that Blake and Val were one of the same. Maybe if I¡¯d warned her, things wouldn¡¯t have gotten so damn far. Beckett opened the door. Looked up at me, confused. ¡°You¡¯re that elf bitch from the hospital,¡± she said. My face sank. But I¡¯d expected this. There was nothing to be upset about, since I¡¯d expect this. ¡°Glad you¡¯re not in a loony bin coma, or whatever,¡± she said. It was strange, hearing her talk to me, like I¡¯d never heard her talk to me before. But I was still just happy to hear her voice. ¡°You¡¯re not crazy, are you?¡± I shook my head. ¡°Beckett, it¡¯s George.¡± She looked at me askance. ¡°The George I knew was flat-chested, human, and often drunk.¡± ¡°Will you accept one out of three?¡± I asked, my voice soft. ¡°I¡¯ve had an interesting day.¡± As soon as I said ¡®interesting¡¯, her expression changed. She seemed to recognize me, like I¡¯d known she would. I hoped it was the details of my life that defined it ¡ª not the big picture. ¡°George?¡± she said. ¡°I remember you being there for me when my dog died. You laughed and said that life was a bitch. It was an awful joke to make at an awful time, but it made me laugh. You were there when my mother died. You called her a bitch, too. You were there for me when I tried killing myself. I remember all that. It¡¯s important to me. Do you see me, Beckett? Do you really see me?¡± She sighed, looking up at me. ¡°George. What the fuck happened to you?¡± Tears streamed down my face yet again, so she said, ¡°Gimme a hug, you stupid bitch.¡± I leaned down and gave her a hug. Dead god be damned, I felt safe. 4.4 Beckett took a toke of her spliff, withered thumb and pointer finger holding it close to her lips. She blew smoke at the ceiling. ¡°That¡¯s fucked up,¡± she said. ¡°God you can¡¯t know, gun that can kill the Godkiller, Death Cult dragon? That¡¯s real fucked up.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, laying on her sofa. ¡°This whole world¡¯s fucked up, Beckett, and I just don¡¯t know what to do about it.¡± ¡°That¡¯s your depression talking,¡± she said. ¡°An apocalypse doesn¡¯t have to be so bad.¡± ¡°You¡¯re the one who told me not to kill myself.¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t stop you from trying.¡± ¡°But I didn¡¯t, in the end. I didn¡¯t succeed in killing myself.¡± Somehow, the silence in this room was a comfort. It blanketed me. ¡°I¡¯m real proud of you for that, kid.¡± A shiver down my spine. ¡°What¡¯s the difference?¡± I asked. ¡°Don¡¯t I have to keep fighting? What¡¯s the difference between suicide and an apocalypse?¡± She passed the spliff to me, craning her neck towards the ceiling. ¡°It¡¯s different.¡± ¡°How?¡± She laughed, shaking her head. ¡°It is, George. It¡¯s different because things end when it¡¯s time to end. A suicide is something you do to yourself ¡ª an apocalypse is the world dying of old age. Every generation¡¯s had ideas about apocalypse this and fire of death that. You know why?¡± I thought about it. Took a deep toke. Let the smoke sit in my lungs, then exhaled. Why do we all think about this world dying so much? Why are we all so obsessed with the flames? Seeing the look on my face, Beckett answered her own question, ¡°Because everyone wants to know how it ends, George. We all missed the beginning, so the ending¡¯s the thing that matters. The middle? Fuck the middle. Reviewers never even mentioned the middles of my books. And why would they? The beginning¡¯s the question, the end¡¯s the answer. What the fuck is a middle? Some goddamned mush. No, I wouldn¡¯t expect anyone to care much at all about a middle.¡± I passed the spliff back to her. She grabbed it out of my hand and took a puff. ¡°I guess I¡¯m just not ready for it to end.¡± ¡°Why?¡± she asked me. ¡°What¡¯s so good about this world?¡± I sighed. What was so good about this world? I lay there on the sofa, feeling warm. When I stopped thinking about everything, this all didn¡¯t seem so bad. In fact, it felt kind of nice, being here. Beckett was like an anchor to this world, someone I¡¯d known long enough to remind me who I was. And this place ¡ª somehow, this place felt more comfortable than my own home. ¡°You, weed, the stars in the sky,¡± I said. She laughed at that. Coughed a little, hacking up smoke. ¡°Crazy bastard,¡± she said. My breath felt slower, more relaxed. Hadn¡¯t I been here before? Hadn¡¯t I had those moments where I felt better about everything, only to go back into the grime of self-hate. What did I need to stay here? How could I keep my life sane, at least for a little while? ¡°Maybe the world isn¡¯t so great,¡± I said. ¡°Maybe it¡¯s just fleeting moments that we fight for, surrounded by dull terror.¡± She shook her head, passing the spliff back to me. ¡°The world is what it is. Maybe if you stopped trying to label it, you¡¯d be happier. Good, bad. Who gives a shit? They¡¯re just words ¡ª words the world wasn¡¯t born with. Words won¡¯t kill the world. Nah, if I¡¯ve learned one thing in all my years, it¡¯s that words don¡¯t mean shit.¡± ¡°Kinda ruins the purpose of words, if they don¡¯t mean anything¡± I said. ¡°You really only learned one thing in all your years?¡± She laughed. ¡°You bastard. If I wasn¡¯t in this wheelchair I¡¯d whoop your ass six ways to Sunday.¡± I believed her, too. ¡°Bet it¡¯s an alien,¡± she said. ¡°What?¡± ¡°That thing that you met,¡± she said. ¡°¡®The god that you cannot know.¡¯¡± ¡°You think it¡¯s an alien?¡± ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°You think everything¡¯s an alien.¡± ¡°You can¡¯t prove I¡¯m wrong.¡± ¡°God can¡¯t be an alien.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t think that wouldn¡¯t make some sort of sense?¡± she asked I lay there on her sofa, rubbing my forehead. ¡°Shit, I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t think so.¡± ¡°You should probably go,¡± Beckett said, looking at the clock. I sighed. ¡°Alright. Any reason?¡± ¡°Vicky¡¯s going to be home soon.¡± ¡°I¡¯d like to see her again,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m sure she¡¯d like to see you too,¡± Beckett said, the two of us moving towards her front door. ¡°But it might take you some time to convince her, and you don¡¯t need that shit right now.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I sighed. ¡°I guess I don¡¯t.¡± ¡°Gimme another hug, you stupid bitch,¡± Beckett said. I did. Then I walked out the door. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª ¡°Death¡¯s Cove,¡± the sign read, hanging above the pub¡¯s door. I sighed, entering. Beckett had told me that Evan was alive. He¡¯d explained Val¡¯s blood sword away, saying something about his father preparing food in the back with it ¡ª chopping up a pig drunkenly, but not illegally. It was all too strange. I entered. The typical smell hit me the second I came in: booze, sweat, and metal, all mixing together to create a scent that was manly to the point of disgusting cliche. But there was another smell, too. The whole place smelled vaguely anti-septic. The bar was packed. There wasn¡¯t any room for me to sit. ¡°You¡¯re not an alcoholic,¡± Evan yelled at me, while he poured someone else¡¯s drink, ¡°are you?¡± I stood there, like a deer in headlights. ¡°No.¡± ¡°Sorry,¡± he said setting down a man¡¯s drink while keeping eye contact with me. There was something odd about him. All the anger had drained from his face ¡ª drained from his body. He was so much less troubled than I remembered. ¡°We don¡¯t see many elves in here, but the ones we do tend to have a bad drinking problem. Just know that I¡¯ve got my eye on you.¡± ¡°Alright,¡± I said. ¡°What¡¯ll you have?¡± he asked. ¡°Brandy. Two shots.¡± I slapped a ten dollar bill onto the table. ¡°Right,¡± he said, ¡°coming right up.¡± Some big-bellied man growled at me: ¡°This your first time here?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± I said, somewhat meekly. ¡°I can tell,¡± he said, foul breath bothering me. ¡°You look uncomfortable.¡± ¡°That¡¯s my thing,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯m always uncomfortable.¡± I grabbed one of the shots Evan had set down on the counter. Swung it back. ¡°You like drinking,¡± the man said. ¡°That¡¯s why I like drinking,¡± I told the man. ¡°Makes me less comfortable. Things sure have picked up around here, huh?¡± ¡°Thought you¡¯d never been here,¡± the man pointed out. ¡°I haven¡¯t,¡± I said, worried my cheeks might be turning red. Think fast, and don¡¯t let him see you sweat. ¡°I have a friend who told me about this place. Told me it was a real dump, last time he visited.¡± ¡°Maybe your friend isn¡¯t so reliable,¡± the man said. ¡°Maybe,¡± I said. A shiver rolled down my spine, since the man wasn¡¯t looking me in the eyes at all. Instead, his eyes were focused on my chest. ¡°How long you been coming here?¡± ¡°Not too long,¡± he said. ¡°So you really don¡¯t know what it¡¯s like, do you?¡± I asked. ¡°Sure I do!¡± ¡°How so?¡± ¡°A friend of mine used to come in here all the time. He told me all about this place. Said it was real successful.¡± ¡°And you trust that friend,¡± I said. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Maybe the friend isn¡¯t so trustworthy.¡± The man snickered, shaking his head. ¡°You¡¯ve got a real mouth on you.¡± ¡°I do,¡± I said, standing up and beginning to walk away. ¡°Hey, where are you going?¡± ¡°Away from you,¡± I said. I made my way to the bathroom, heart pounding. No one else was in there, which was one good thing. I closed a bathroom stall and leaned my head against the door. That man was hitting on me, because I¡¯m female. I¡¯m a female elf, and that¡¯s never going to change. I thought back to my old body, my old home. I decided I wanted to go back. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª My heart pounded, as I walked up to my old house. It was a small, one-story place, located outside the city. Fake grass as far as the eye could see ¡ª just the way I liked it. I made my way down the path and up to the front door. Thinking about it, it wasn¡¯t really my door anymore. Surely it¡¯d been sold ¡ª to the bank, or some nostalgic jack-ass who remembered and worshipped Godkiller. I knocked on the door. Waited a couple seconds, but didn¡¯t get an answer. Knocked again. This time I heard the footsteps walking towards the door. There was a pause, as the person looked through the peephole. I remember doing that a lot, too. Never experienced it on this side, though. More often than not, I hadn¡¯t answered the knocker. I opened the door. Of course, that was the thing ¡ª I didn¡¯t actually open the door. I was still standing there, watching the owner of the house open the door. But the guy who opened the door? George Royce? I¡¯d been him, once. He stared back at me, blinking. For the love of a dead god. I should¡¯ve expected this. I knew I¡¯d switched bodies with the elf, which of course meant that she¡¯d gotten my body. And I knew people were claiming Val had survived, just like I thought he had. Which would mean I couldn¡¯t have been executed for murder, since no one remembered the murder happening. But still, I hadn¡¯t expected this. In all the mess my life had become, I just hadn¡¯t stopped and thought about it. ¡°Long time, no see,¡± my body said, looking at me. I ran my fingers through my elven hair, looking at the human body I¡¯d left behind. The elf wasn¡¯t acting like she remembered me. It was a smart play ¡ª every once in a while I caught some sad fuck snooping around, wondering what¡¯d become of the author who blew all his money on booze and misery. Wouldn¡¯t want to hear one of them talking about the stuff we needed to talk about. This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Long time, no see,¡± I repeated. I couldn¡¯t think of what else to say. ¡°Care to come in?¡± George asked me. ¡°It¡¯d be my,¡± I searched for the right word, but couldn¡¯t really find it, ¡°pleasure.¡± George gave me a forced smile, moving out of the doorway. I walked inside, keeping my eyes planted on the floor. ¡°It¡¯s a strange world,¡± George said. ¡°It¡¯s a strange world,¡± I replied. I looked back at my old body ¡ª I mean, I really looked at it. Didn¡¯t look quite so bad, now that I wasn¡¯t living in it. The eyes were less tired ¡ª the whole body seemed less exhausted. ¡°I don¡¯t even know where to start,¡± she told me, the two of us standing in the hallway. I would¡¯ve felt more comfortable sitting down somewhere, anywhere. But we had so much to talk about. I felt like we couldn¡¯t delay the conversation for a second longer. ¡°The truth,¡± I said. ¡°Tell me what you¡¯re thinking. Then I¡¯ll tell you what I¡¯m thinking, and we can maybe come to some sort of,¡± I reached for words, but couldn¡¯t find them. ¡°I don¡¯t know. But maybe we can figure something out.¡± ¡°I can¡¯t see things anymore,¡± George said. ¡°I can see the present, I guess. But the future ¡ª the future¡¯s gone.¡± ¡°I¡¯m starting to think the same thing.¡± ¡°Do you have any idea what happened?¡± ¡°You mean, who the blue creature was? I¡¯m not sure. He said he was a god that I couldn¡¯t know ¡ª that I couldn¡¯t kill.¡± George sighed. ¡°That¡¯s more than I found out in centuries.¡± I rubbed my temples. ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± ¡°Your head hurts?¡± she asked me. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Readjusting to the timestream,¡± she explained. ¡°Do you see the future yet?¡± ¡°No,¡± I said. But then I stopped to think about it ¡ª Lusu¡¯s father with his voice like a trumpet horn. ¡°Well, yes. Once. But for the most part I¡¯ve been stuck in the past. The dreams of it get longer.¡± ¡°You¡¯re adjusting,¡± she said, ¡°like some goddamned adolescent.¡± ¡°I feel pretty goddamned, to tell you the truth.¡± ¡°I¡¯m sure you are, George,¡± she said to me. I didn¡¯t know what to make of that ¡ª her calling me George, I mean. She was George, wasn¡¯t she? Wasn¡¯t I Sam? ¡°They know you¡¯re disconnected from the timeline,¡± I said. ¡°They figured it out within a minute of seeing me.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not a surprise,¡± she said. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter much, anyway. I think I¡¯m stuck in this body for forever.¡± ¡°Probably,¡± I said. I thought I saw something dash across the window. ¡°What?¡± George asked me. I rubbed my eyes. Could I believe my eyes? Could I believe my very own eyes, which had been wrong in the past? What did it even matter what I saw, if all of reality¨C *CRACK* George¡¯s door ¡ª my door ¡ª got ripped off its hinges. I turned around and saw Evan there, looking mad as hell. Strong as hell, too. Was that even physically possible? ¡°Evan,¡± I said. I didn¡¯t bother saying another word. I saw the look in his eyes. He was angry ¡ª crazed. I darted towards the window that I¡¯d seen him run across only moments before. He raced towards my old body. I heard a scream. Turned around and saw myself turned inside-out. My own blood was on the floor. My own blood was on my own floor and in a weird way I was lucky because the whole damn thing was an out-of-body experience. ¡°You,¡± Evan¡¯s voice growled, sounding nothing like him at all, really, ¡°have disturbed,¡± it continued, and I knew something was wrong, so very very wrong, ¡°the timeline. *CRASH* I jumped through the window, making my way onto my own lawn. Dear god, dear god. Of course, I didn¡¯t really have anyone to pray to, did I? No god left alive to answer my prayers, no one except the unknowable unkillable god. I tripped on my own foot. Hit the grass, hard. Turned around, got my hand on my gun. It felt cold ¡ª good. Made me feel safe. Evan was nearly on top of me, just a couple feet away, panting, his eyes as mad as his heart, as mad as this world, as mad as all the goddamned killing destiny had found necessary. ¡°What¡¯s the timeline?¡± I yelled, staring at Evan¡¯s cold eyes. Evan didn¡¯t seem to have any emotion on his face, as he said, ¡°Where we all live.¡± ¡°Are you really Evan?¡± Evan smiled, then shrugged. ¡°You¡¯re afraid of the gun,¡± I said. Evan didn¡¯t move. There wasn¡¯t any emotion on his lips, but I thought I might¡¯ve seen a glimmer in his eyes. He knew the gun well enough to respect it. ¡°You should be,¡± I said. ¡°Are you a part of the end of the world?¡± He didn¡¯t say anything. He just stood there, silent, which was the creepiest thing he could do. ¡°You¡¯re not killing me,¡± I said. My chest felt heavy. I was out of breath. It wasn¡¯t even the running or the jumping or even the fright. It was the unbelievable gut punch: That¡¯s not Evan. Maybe it never was. But if Evan was never the Evan I thought I knew, did that make him anything other than Evan? Or did that just make me ignorant? ¡°Are you heading to the Celestial Wall still?¡± For the first time, I saw true emotion spread across Evan¡¯s face. It looked unnatural ¡ª the corners of his lips rising upwards, moving towards his ears, fighting gravity to express satisfaction at something so grisly and awful. He didn¡¯t say anything. But that expression of his was more than enough of an answer. He turned around, running off into the night. I had a purpose again. More than anything else, I needed to stop Evan from destroying the world. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª I banged on Lusu¡¯s door, looking at the dead dragon knocker I¡¯d shot a bullet through who knows how long ago. It took her a minute, but I kept banging, unable to let up, unwilling to let up. She opened the door. ¡°You look like a mess.¡± ¡°Evan,¡± I said, panting, looking around, feeling manic. ¡°He¡­ he killed me. He killed me.¡± ¡°What are you¨C¡± ¡°I went over to my old house and saw the elf that I¡¯d switched bodies with. But she¡¯s dead and I¡¯m here and that crazy machine you were telling me about¡­ I think it¡¯s turned into Evan. I don¡¯t know how¡­ maybe Evan really did die. Maybe he never was alive. I don¡¯t know. I don¡¯t know!¡± Lusu grabbed onto my shoulders. ¡°Calm down. You have to calm¨C¡± ¡°Calm down!¡± I roared, practically laughing. ¡°This world is insane. It¡¯s fucking insane, and I have to live here!¡± ¡°Not for much longer, by the looks of it.¡± ¡°You¡¯re joking!¡± I yelled, resting my head on her shoulder. ¡°You¡¯re joking, and this whole damn world¨C¡± ¡°What¡¯s she raving about?¡± The Hero asked, from inside the house. ¡°Still not able to handle getting disconnected from the timeline?¡± ¡°She¡¯s saying that someone we know killed a man,¡± Lusu said. ¡°You believe her?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± Lusu said. ¡°I think so.¡± ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t you believe me?¡± I asked. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t you¨C¡± ¡°Shh,¡± she said, ¡°Let¡¯s come inside.¡± I took my head off her shoulder. She closed the door, and the three of us walked into her living room. I noted the Godkiller book, laying on the sofa, mocking me. ¡°You¡¯ve been through a lot,¡± Lusu said. ¡°What¡¯s that supposed to mean?¡± ¡°It means that you¡¯ve been through a lot,¡± Lusu said. ¡°That can do things to people.¡± ¡°You know I haven¡¯t lied so far. You know I switched bodies with that elf, and you know that somehow they replaced Val with a machine. You know I¡¯m not¨C¡± ¡°I know,¡± she said, looking me in the eyes. Her steely gaze calmed me down a little bit. There was a strength there. I wasn¡¯t sure if it was trust in me ¡ª but I knew I could trust it. The Hero, on the other hand, looked a little concerned. ¡°I know you¡¯ve told the truth up to now,¡± she said, ¡°but I also know that a lot of strange things have happened in your life ¡ª not just now, but in general. So I want to make sure they haven¡¯t broken you like I would expect them to. I want to make sure you¡¯re okay.¡± I kept my eyes glued on the floor. ¡°How can I prove a thing like that?¡± ¡°Are you okay?¡± she asked me. I took in a deep breath. ¡°Yeah. There¡¯s a lot going on right now, but I am.¡± ¡°Then tell me what happened.¡± I did. The best thing of all was that she listened to me explain the insanity of it all. ¡°I believe you,¡± she said. ¡°I believe you when you say that we have to go to the Celestial Wall. Do you?¡± she asked, looking at The Hero. He grabbed the bridge of his nose, rubbing it, looking tired and torn. ¡°I don¡¯t know if I believe you. But I sure as hell ain¡¯t going to miss a chance to save the world. And if you are crazy, well, I guess I don¡¯t have anything better to do.¡± I nodded my head, breathing a sigh of relief. ¡°Guess we¡¯ve gotta go then.¡± The only thing that made me sad was that I wasn¡¯t going to be able to say goodbye to Beckett, or Vicky. Maybe in the next life, if not in this one. --- --- --- Hey all, if you''re enjoying this story, please think about signing up for my newsletter! It releases once a month and will feature news about upcoming projects. I''ve got a new RRL story that should be posting soon, and this is a great way to make sure you don''t miss it! Interlude 4 Diamond Dog took a hit off his crack pipe. The familiarity of it calmed him ¡ª the quickening of his heart calmed him. He looked down on the pitch black city; no light. Well, that wasn¡¯t quite true. Standing here, on the highest floor in the tallest building in the city, he felt proud of the darkness. The Supercomputer had tried to kill them all ¡ª these denizens of the future. But then Oreh had come up with the code to destroy it, and Diamond Dog had killed Oreh. After that, taking control of the city had been easy. He preferred the lack of light. It spoke to the lack of civilization he was fond of. Nothing mattered, not really. For this reason Diamond found it pathetic. It strove for such greatness, spitting in the face of dead and careless dogs. If he hadn¡¯t wanted to intimidate all the dark-dwelling citizens, he wouldn¡¯t have lit up this building. But he did want to intimidate them. The fear was what fed him, wasn¡¯t it? Alone, he was little more than empty nihilism. But the destruction gave him purpose. The destruction allowed him to get rid of the civilization ¡ª to fulfill the will of the gods by plunging all two-legged creatures into chaos.¡¯¡¯ A horse-headed minion walked into the room. Turning his eyes from the darkness of the city to the light of the room, Diamond Dog¡¯s eyes burned a bit. Once they adjusted, he noticed the fear on Horse-head¡¯s face. Good. ¡°Sir,¡± Horse-head said. ¡°Val escaped.¡± Diamond Dog didn¡¯t explode. He let his rage simmer. It was better that way. ¡°How,¡± Diamond Dog said, ¡°and why?¡± ¡°We sent fifteen guys after him. He killed them all.¡± Diamond said. ¡°That¡¯s the how, vague though it is.¡± ¡°Yes.¡± ¡°And the why?¡± Horse-head stood, pensive. After a few moments, he said, ¡°Val was too strong.¡± Diamond Dog shook his head. ¡°It¡¯s never the enemy¡¯s fault. The enemy is never the why. The troubles that one faces are never the why. The why is a lack of will. They died because they didn¡¯t care enough to live.¡± He chuckled, but the smile that formed on his face quickly faded. ¡°I understand the feeling.¡± Horse-head didn¡¯t speak. He didn¡¯t know what to say. ¡°We killed the gods,¡± Diamond Dog said. ¡°We killed all the gods, only to create a new omniscient being ¡ª a being of science. But it didn¡¯t matter whether the being was one of science of one of myth. It didn¡¯t matter whether it came from or what it¡¯s original purpose was.¡± He continued, ¡°Every omniscient being that¡¯s ever existed has tried to destroy two-legged creatures. The gods just wanted to kill us, while the Supercomputer tried turning us into animals. But time and time again, the two-legged creatures weren¡¯t good enough. Were we really broken, or were we just some damn dolls that the all-knowing thought they could play with? Maybe we had a purpose and failed to achieve it. Or maybe we just never mattered at all.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± Horse-head nodded, more out of fear than understanding. ¡°That¡¯s a lot of thoughts.¡± ¡°It¡¯s no matter,¡± Diamond Dog said, waving the issue aside. ¡°I have a feeling that someone might¡¯ve gotten to him by now. Let¡¯s get the rest of the men together and¨C¡± The lights went out. The power ¡ª his power ¡ª shut off. He didn¡¯t even like the lights. But the power? That he refused to lose. He looked down at the city, which was now no worse off than he was. A rage built up in him, and he grabbed Hors-head¡¯s arm. ¡°Sir,¡± Horse-head neighed. Diamond Dog threw him at the window. Glass crashed, and Horse-head fell. He screamed. Diamond Dog smiled. That hadn¡¯t been an act of anger, despite how it might¡¯ve looked . No, it had simply been a matter of tactics. The Kaleidoscopic Angel was down there, somewhere. Surely they were responsible for stealing the battery that powered the tower. Surely they and their friends would see the fall ¡ª at the very least, they would hear the screaming. This, Diamond Dog knew, would strike terror into their hearts. He couldn¡¯t stop smiling. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª The Kaleidoscopic Angel stood with arms akimbo. They looked up at the matinee theater¡¯s sign. It read, ¡°THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH.¡± The Kaleidoscopic Angel smiled. They looked over at Val, who had his arms around the Angel of Death¡¯s waist. The Angel of Death had her arm around Val¡¯s shoulder, and the two of them looked content. Val would mumble every once in a while. He chose to do so at that very moment. The Kaleidoscopic Angel looked over at the Angel of Death. ¡°Care to translate?¡± ¡°He wants to know what this has to do with going back to his own time.¡± The Kaleidoscopic Angel sighed. ¡°As I¡¯ve previously explained, he really doesn¡¯t want to do that.¡± Val mumbled. ¡°He does,¡± The Angel of Death explained. ¡°Assuming that¡¯s truly the case, I¡¯ll take him back as soon as this is all over.¡± ¡°And when will that be?¡± The Kaleidoscopic Angel smiled. ¡°A minute past midnight.¡± The Angel of Death looked around at the city block: no lights were on. Only off in the distance could light be seen, glowing from the tallest building in the city. ¡°Why here?¡± she asked. The Kaleidoscopic Angel slipped a hand into the pocket of his white pants. He pulled out a single key, which slid into the lock on the theater¡¯s front door. He opened the door, then bowed a little, indicating the way for Val and the Angel of Death. ¡°Walk this way.¡± The Angel of Death walked; Val followed. ¡°It¡¯s dark,¡± she said. ¡°Quite astute,¡± they replied. ¡°If you weren¡¯t an angel of death, I¡¯d kill you,¡± she said. ¡°Surely,¡± the Kaleidoscopic Angel said, walking further into the darkness. The Angel of Death followed him, making her way carefully through the darkness. Val hung on, his hand still at her side. The Kaleidoscopic Angel pushed a big door open. Val held onto it, so that he and the Angel of Death could pass through. ¡°Are you going to explain all this?¡± she asked. ¡°In a moment,¡± the Kaleidoscopic Angel said. ¡°For now, I¡¯m content with leaving you in the dark.¡± Val mumbled something. ¡°What¡¯d he say?¡± the Kaleidoscopic Angel said. ¡°He insulted you, because of the pun.¡± ¡°That¡¯s fair,¡± the Kaleidoscopic Angel said. ¡°But we¡¯re here. This is your answer.¡± The Angel of Death looked at the pitch black room. It wasn¡¯t much to look at, since the place was pitch black. Val mumbled something. ¡°What?¡± the Kaleidoscopic Angel said. ¡°Another insult,¡± the Angel of Death explained. ¡°But really, neither Val nor I have any idea what it is we¡¯re supposed to be looking at.¡± ¡°Something,¡± the Kaleidoscopic Angel said. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to see something, but you can¡¯t, because the room¡¯s dark.¡± ¡°Astute,¡± the Angel of Death said. ¡°The theater needs power. But to get that power, we¡¯re going to need to steal it.¡± ¡°And why should we do that?¡± ¡°Because if you do, I¡¯ll be able to power the time machine that¡¯ll take you home, among other things.¡± ¡°Among other things,¡± the Angel of Death repeated. ¡°Trust me,¡± the Kaleidoscopic Angel said. ¡°You¡¯ll like the end result.¡± ¡°Trust you?¡± the Angel of Death asked, half-laughing. ¡°Why would we ever trust you?¡± ¡°Since I¡¯m the guy with the time machine,¡± the Kaleidoscopic Angel said, ¡°and it¡¯s not like you have all that many better options.¡± ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª ¡°Diamond Dog¡¯s tower is the only place in this borough that gets any power,¡± the Kaleidoscopic Angel explained, walking down the sidewalk. Val and the Angel of Death walked with him, hands linked. ¡°Why?¡± the Angel of Death asked. ¡°He has a battery,¡± the Kaleidoscopic Angel said. ¡°No,¡± the Angel of Death said, ¡°What I mean to ask is, why doesn¡¯t anyone else have power in this part of town?¡± ¡°Government,¡± the Kaleidoscopic Angel said. ¡°This part of town had a lot of crime, so¡­¡± ¡°So the government just shut the power down?¡± ¡°Sure,¡± the Kaleidoscopic Angel said. ¡°Whatever works.¡± ¡°Sounds like you¡¯re living in a dystopia,¡± the Angel of Death said. ¡°A lot of things can seem horrifying, when you¡¯re not living them,¡± the Kaleidoscopic Angel said. ¡°But then you do start living them, and you see that they¡¯re not so bad after all.¡± The Angel of Death wasn¡¯t impressed with the philosophy. ¡°How exactly do you plan on getting past the guards?¡± she asked. ¡°Val¡¯s too hurt, and he¡¯s lost his sword. He won¡¯t be able to take them all down.¡± ¡°I¡¯m this era¡¯s Angel of Death,¡± the Kaleidoscopic Angel said. They smiled; that was answer enough. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª The Kaleidoscopic Angel strode towards the tower, in the direction of two guards. One had a horse¡¯s head; the other, a gorilla¡¯s. Hands in pocket, the Angel kept their eyes glued to the sidewalk. The guards watched closely, but didn¡¯t move. There were many reasons why an Angel of Death might be out at this hour, and the last thing the guards wanted was to start a fight with Death Incarnate. The Kaleidoscopic Angel kept their cool, pretending to walk by until they were right in front of the tower door, in-between the two guards. This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. As soon as their foot hit the ground, they whipped out their gun. Kicked gorilla-head¡¯s gun while shooting horse-head in the face. *BANG* Horse-head crumpled. The Kaleidoscopic Angel slammed their foot into gorilla-head¡¯s face. They grabbed gorilla-head¡¯s neck and pulled him close. Shot gorilla-head in the stomach three times. *BANG* *BANG* *BANG* They dragged gorilla-head¡¯s corpse just to the left of where the doors opened, opposite the hinges. Propped it up so that when the door opened, the cheetah-head that answered didn¡¯t attack the Kaleidoscopic Angel right away. *BANG* *BANG* His mistake. The Kaleidoscopic Angel dropped gorilla-head, pulling the creature to the side. Reached over and picked up cheetah-head¡¯s gun. The Kaleidoscopic Angel heard footsteps, two more creatures approaching the door. One hand stuck out and the Kaleidoscopic Angel pulled on it. They grabbed the door and slammed it onto the trapped arm. Once. Twice. Third time¡¯s the charm. The hand dropped the gun. The Kaleidoscopic Angel opened the door. Twisted the man¡¯s arm, using him as a body shield. The second assailant hesitated for a moment, not wanting to shoot his partner. The Kaleidoscopic Angel used this moment, slamming their foot against the second man¡¯s face. The second man crumpled. The Kaleidoscopic Angel shot the first assailant in the face. The first assailant crumpled. The Kaleidoscopic Angel entered the hallway, stepping over the two corpses, ignoring their souls. There would be time enough for that later. But by then, it probably wouldn¡¯t be the Kaleidoscopic Angel¡¯s job. They made their way through the long narrow hallway, fighting every animal-headed creature that came their way. It was all about throwing the enemy off balance ¡ª trapping them in tight spaces, making numbers a non-issue. The caution wasn¡¯t entirely necessary, since most of their weapons wouldn¡¯t work against an Angel of Death, anyway. But a couple of them? Well, life had weapons that could hurt the Angel of Death. It just didn¡¯t know which weapons they were, yet. And so the Kaleidoscopic Angel made their way down the concrete steps, kicking and punching and twisting their way through the army. Eventually they reached the basement. At this point no one was there, presumably because they¡¯d all joined the fight upstairs. The Kaleidoscopic Angel ran, colors swirling across their face, struggling to be seen under the blood. In truth, the battery didn¡¯t look like much. It was the size of a pinkie finger. It was surrounded by a small plastic box. The Kaleidoscopic Angel shot the box, breaking it. They took the battery, slipping it into their pocket. With the battery gone, the lights went out. *BLAM* A laser shot through the dark air, ripping through the Kaleidoscopic Angel¡¯s left shoulder. They screamed. This was one of the weapons that hurt. Laying on the garage floor, their white pants now dirtied with both blood and grime, the Kaleidoscopic Angel panted, taking in deep breaths of air, trying to hiss the pain out. The laser gun could be heard, its systems recharging. The Kaleidoscopic Angel felt dizzy, but they managed to pull themselves up. They didn¡¯t want to get hit with another laser. If they could just reach the assailant in time¡­ The weight of their body was part of what allowed them to charge forward, but they felt off-balance. The laser gun was re-charging, but if they could just reach it in time¡­ *BLAM* That was the end of the Kaleidoscopic Angel. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª The Angel of Death sat in the alleyway, back against the wall, wings stretching across the wall while her arms were wrapped around Val. She¡¯d heard the Kaleidoscopic Angel fighting two blocks away. She hadn¡¯t intervened. Val needed her here. Val needed to be protected. Though she couldn¡¯t tell what, something was very wrong. He shivered. He sobbed. ¡°What is it?¡± she asked, voice soft. ¡°What¡¯s got you like this?¡± Val mumbled one word: ¡°Evan.¡± It took everything she had to understand just that. In the heat of the moment, when he¡¯d found out about Evan, his son¡¯s death had propelled him forward. It gave him power. It made him angry, which made him strong. But now? Now that he¡¯d fought and bled and had time to really think about it? It made him feel weak, weaker than he¡¯d ever felt. He drowned in sadness, an inability to know what he wanted to do next. Why, if the Angel of Death hadn¡¯t been there¨C He didn¡¯t dare think about it. ¡°What?¡± she asked him, her voice unsure. ¡°What about Evan?¡± Val didn¡¯t say anything. He merely tilted his head upwards, looking her straight in the eye. He took his pointer finger and dragged it across his throat. ¡°Dead?¡± she asked. He shook his head. It felt like she¡¯d been punched in the gut: her own son, dead. And she hadn¡¯t even been there to collect his soul. Of course, she¡¯d never seen him, after the birth. It hadn¡¯t feel right, for her to go see him. And she¡¯d always been so busy. She wished he hadn¡¯t known. She wished she hadn¡¯t known he was the son of the Angel of Death, because what would that do to a person? She knew he was better off for not knowing her ¡ª an Angel of Death certainly couldn¡¯t raise a baby. He probably would have been better off never being born. But she couldn¡¯t even take his soul. She always thought she¡¯d meet him then. Explain how she didn¡¯t want to be a mother ¡ª how she didn¡¯t feel like she could ever be good to a son. No explanations would be made. Her son was dead, and she couldn¡¯t even do for him the one thing she¡¯d done for so many others. ¡°And his soul?¡± Val looked at her ¡ª lost, confused. Even with all the dead she¡¯d seen, she didn¡¯t remember seeing anyone so broken. There wasn¡¯t time to think about it, though. Because suddenly, she felt something tug at the pit of her stomach. The tug was awful, but there was also a sense of rejuvenation. She knew the feeling. It was unmistakable. She wasn¡¯t just the Angel of Death, anymore. She was this era¡¯s Angel of Death. Her powers had returned, which meant that the Kaleidoscopic Angel must be dead. She stood up. ¡°I have to go, Val. Stay here.¡± He looked up at her, forlorn. Still, he didn¡¯t beg her to stay. He didn¡¯t grab onto her leg or whimper at her. She appreciated that. Taking one last look at him, she let out a small, loving smile. Then she turned, walking towards the tower. She stopped, as she stood outside the door. She had no idea what had killed the Kaleidoscopic Angel, or how. This meant she had to be careful ¡ª cautious. She looked down at the corpses that lay in front of the door. Pushing them aside, she cracked the door open. It was dark. Unable to see anything, she walked through the door. She moved quickly but quietly through the hallway of corpses, groping the wall, looking for any sign of trouble. At the very least, the Kaleidoscopic Angel had thinned the herd a little. She made her way down the stairs, stepping over more corpses. Maybe he¡¯d just gotten too many wounds after all this. Maybe no individual did him in ¡ª maybe it was just the whole herd. The garage, like everywhere else, was quiet. The air conditioning hummed. Her own breath was loud enough to be heard. *BLAM* A laser shot through her wing. She screamed. Intense pain. Coming from where? She heard the sound of the laser blaster firing up again. She charged towards it, keeping her head low, her whole body less able to be shot at ¡ª or even seen, in the dark. But her wings were too big. *BLAM* Another beam shot through her left wing. It was useless for flying, now. Still, she was close enough to tackle the assailant, slamming him into the ground. The two of them wrestled. The first thing she did was rip the gun from his hands. Tossing it aside, she placed her hand on his throat. *ZING* She noticed the laser blade too late. The assailant jerked an arm away from her grip. He stabbed her in the eye. He moved his arm back to stab her again, but he wouldn¡¯t be successful. The pain shocked her system ¡ª so thoroughly, that she didn¡¯t even think to scream. Instead, she ripped his throat out. The laser blade *clack*ed against the floor He lay there, dead. She sat there for several moments, feeling woozy from the pain ¡ª from all the loss of blood. She turned the laser blade off. Placing her palm on her eye didn¡¯t do much good, but it was something. She stood up and stumbled towards the door. She stumbled up the steps, and through the hallway. Once outside the tower, she collapsed. Twenty feet away, the Horse-head that Diamond Dog had thrown out the window splattered on the asphalt. No one noticed. 5.1 Lusu drove, while The Hero sat in the passenger seat. They let me sleep in the back, because I¡¯d seen so much. I dreamed. It was a better way of living. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª The Celestial Wall peaked over the horizon. It was beautiful, in a terrifyingly sublime sort of way. I knew I shouldn¡¯t be looking at it, but I did. I drove and drove. Val sat in the passenger seat, sleeping. Eventually, we reached a river, which ran not that far away from the wall. A couple of tents were camped out nearby. The road turned into a bridge, which ran across the span of the river. Somehow I knew better than to just try driving over it. I parked the car and got out, leaving Val to sleep. By the time I¡¯d made my second step towards the bridge, I¡¯d heard a whistle. It almost sounded like a bird, but I knew enough to recognize it as human. I turned around, but couldn¡¯t see anything. Another sound. This one more like a whooping call. ¡°They¡¯re just trying to scare you away!¡± said a voice. I turned around again, so that I could take a look at the river. There was a long-haired man swimming there. His whole body was like a kaleidoscope, blues mixing with greens mixing with reds and purples and oranges. The various colors swirled all over his body. He looked relaxed, which surprised me. ¡°Maybe I should be scared away,¡± I said. ¡°Isn¡¯t that river dangerous? That¡¯s what I¡¯d always heard.¡± ¡°What are you worried about?¡± ¡°Heard there was a sea monster that protected the Celestial Wall.¡± The swimmer smiled, glancing off to the side. ¡°That¡¯s not really true. It¡¯s a little true, but not really.¡± ¡°Are you the monster?¡± He shook his head no. ¡°If you were a monster, you¡¯d probably lie to me, wouldn¡¯t you?¡± ¡°Come a little closer, and I¡¯ll tell you what the true monster is.¡± I shook my head. ¡°That doesn¡¯t seem very smart.¡± A streak of water flew out of the river, slapping me across the cheek. Then it fell, laying inert. ¡°The river is the monster,¡± the swimmer said. My cheek smarted, so I rubbed it. ¡°It doesn¡¯t attack you, though.¡± ¡°No, it doesn¡¯t.¡± ¡°Do you control it?¡± The swimmer shook his head ¡®no¡¯ again. ¡°So what¡¯s the deal?¡± ¡°You¡¯re afraid of it,¡± the swimmer said. ¡°That¡¯s your problem. That¡¯s what you have to fix.¡± I held back a smile. After everything I¡¯ve been through? Fighting destiny, almost getting shot, arguing with the Angel of Death? Water is what I¡¯m supposed to be afraid of? Then again, it wasn¡¯t the water I was supposed to be afraid of. No, looking out just a little into the distance ¡ª past the river and just before the Celestial Wall ¡ª I saw Hostem¡¯s house. I saw the house of the god whose actions had taunted humanity for so many years. I saw my creator. I saw the creator of us all. I looked back at the car, towards Val. He was still sleeping, but he¡¯d slept enough, hadn¡¯t he? Isn¡¯t this what I¡¯d brought him back from death for? Isn¡¯t this what he¡¯d been fighting and training for, so many years? I didn¡¯t have to cross the river. I didn¡¯t have to do much of anything, at this point. The reason destiny had brought me here was to bring Val back to life. That must¡¯ve been it. It must¡¯ve been it. I began walking towards the car, completely ignoring the river and the wall and the swimmer and the shack. I walked towards the car, shaking, thanking destiny that I didn¡¯t have to cross that river. I opened the passenger door. Val, who¡¯d been leaning against it, fell onto the grass. ¡°Val!¡± I yelled, not so much out of surprise as frustration. ¡°Val!¡± I crouched down, putting two fingers less than an inch under his nose. He was still breathing. His chest rose and fell, so I shook him a little. ¡°Val!¡± I yelled again, looking at him. ¡°This is what you¡¯ve been waiting for. This is what your whole life has been leading up to!¡± No response. I shook him again, even harder. ¡°I think your friend¡¯s out cold!¡± the swimmer yelled at me. I looked over at him with scorn. ¡°He can¡¯t be!¡± ¡°He is.¡± The swimmer said it so calmly. Val lay on the grass. He was out cold. I took in a deep breath of air. It¡¯s just you now, buddy. You, some fucked-up fish guy, and a suicidal god. ¡°You going to try and stop me from crossing?¡± I asked the fish guy, as I opened the trunk of Val¡¯s car and tried to figure out what weapon to bring. ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re supposed to cross.¡± ¡°Fuck you.¡± The words almost formed on my lips, but there was no need for them. Destiny had decided to work with me, this time. Which weapon to bring? The Godkiller seemed to make the most sense, so I took that. Began to walk towards the river, but it lashed out at me ¡ª striking my hand and making me drop the sword. ¡°The river¡¯s not going to let you cross with that thing,¡± the swimmer told me. I didn¡¯t bother trying to pick up the car. The swimmer looked at me, his smile challenging. Back at the trunk of the car, there was a gun. I picked it up, walking towards the swimmer. For the second time, the water lashed out at me. The gun slipped from my hand. ¡°The river won¡¯t let you cross with that, either,¡± he said. Back at the trunk of the car, most of the weaponry seemed useless. The swords and guns couldn¡¯t make it across the river. I picked up the gas can, walked towards the river. The swimmer looked at me, no longer smiling. ¡°Your river¡¯s not going to stop me?¡± ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°Why don¡¯t you try and stop me yourself?¡± ¡°There are forces in this world more powerful than you and I,¡± he said. With the way I felt, I was beginning to doubt it. Somehow, that same rush from back at Demersi¡¯s surged through me again. Keeping the gas cannister high above my head, I crossed. The swimmer did nothing more than wade, watching me go by. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª *BANG* *CRASH* *BANG* *BANG* I woke to the sound of gunfire. The Hero shouted at Lusu: ¡°THE ELF GUARD¡¯S GOING TO GET US!¡± ¡°Shut up,¡± Lusu said. ¡°YOU CALL THIS DRIVING?¡± The Hero yelled. Lusu chuckled to herself, making a hard sharp turn that knocked my head against the car door. ¡°I¡¯m going to kill you dead,¡± she muttered to herself. ¡°So help me, I¡¯m going to¨C¡± Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator. She kept talking, but I couldn¡¯t hear what she said.I was going back. Back to the dream. To a different time. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª I was drenched outside Hostem¡¯s temple. A chill rolled down my spine, looking at it. It felt like a strange spot to get a chill. The grass here was green ¡ª beautiful. The Sun was shining bright. Everything felt like it should be alright. Everything felt like it should be perfect. Did Hostem really want to kill himself? Why here? Why in a place like this, at a time like this? The scenery was just so damn unsympathetic. I guess that¡¯s why the chill rolled down my spine. Clothes sagging towards the ground, shoes squeaking with every step, I made my way towards the temple. Such a simple-looking thing. The roof was thatched, the walls made of straw. It looked so much less intimidating than I¡¯d expected, so much less permanent. It was tall, though. Maybe twenty feet high. Much taller than you¡¯d expect from a thatched hut. There wasn¡¯t any door to knock on, so I just entered the place. Spots of light got in through the thatched roof, but not much. The whole place was shrouded in darkness. ¡°Fiat Lux,¡± I said with confidence, snapping so that my fingers sparked and a flame shot out of my fingers. The confidence made the flame stay there, billowing in the darkness. Setting the gas cannister down, I dug my other hand into my pocket, taking out a bag of sunflower seeds. Tore at the top of it with my mouth. The floor here was stone, which seemed odd. But that didn¡¯t matter. Standing next to the groove, I tipped the bag over slowly, carefully. One. Two. Three. A small vine sprouted out of the crack. It grew one small leaf, then two, then three. The vine grew upwards, becoming a stalk, looking like a pole shooting out of the ground. It shot up to a little over ten feet, then stopped. A couple hundred vines shot out of the stalk, weaving their way through the air. Sister vines joined the figure, wrapping themselves around the sturdier vines. More sister vines joined these, and I saw Hostem become a tapestry. Vines grew and twirled and strengthened each other, and before long, I was looking at a thirteen-foot titan. ¡°You¡¯re here,¡± Hostem said. Its thick vines criss-crossed over each other, seeming to hide something but in fact being the entirety of that thing before me: the spirit was nothing more than sentient vines, and yet it had done so much, caused so much damage. Hostem, who had gathered his god-children together, to kill so many humans. Hostem, the enemy. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said, more softly than intended. ¡°I¡¯m here.¡± ¡°And Val?¡± Hostem asked. ¡°Outside.¡± ¡°Something went wrong,¡± Hostem said. His voice was deep, unreal. It was without a doubt the most natural thing I¡¯ve ever encountered, yet it sounded so synthetic, like multiple voices merged together, working in an out-of-pitch harmony: uncontainable, uncontrollable, an incoherent cacophony that made all too much sense. ¡°A lot of things went wrong.¡± The god smiled, giving a bit of a sigh. ¡°So many things,¡± he said, placing his thorny hand on my shoulder. ¡°I know you¡¯re here to kill me.¡± A lump sat in my throat. Of course he knew the purpose of my visit. But something about the way he said it ¡ª the gloomy sense that it was inevitable ¡ª disconcerted me. ¡°But do you think you can best me?¡± Hostem asked. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said. ¡°But if I can¡¯t kill you here¨C¡± ¡°I didn¡¯t ask if you could kill me,¡± Hostem said. ¡°I asked if you could best me.¡± I stood there in silence, not know what to say. ¡°When it comes to brute force, you¡¯ve bested me ¡ª surpassed my efforts, more than would¡¯ve been imaginable a hundred years ago. But can you do better? Can people and elves and all the rest of civilization survive without me?¡± I took in a deep breath of air. Could we? the thought reverberated through my mind. Once a creator was gone, what direction would the world go in? What would be out there to keep everything out there? It would be a rudderless world. Then there was the other thought, the scarier thought, the one that would keep me up for many nights, in the future. Should we? Once the creator was gone, what would be the point of life? What would be the point of anything ¡ª what would keep up going? Once the creator wasn¡¯t gone, wasn¡¯t that the end? Clearly he hadn¡¯t meant for us to outlive him. Surely we weren¡¯t supposed to kill him. So we were broken creatures ¡ª flawed ¡ª unable to live up to our perfect potential. ¡°You¡¯re crying,¡± Hostem said. He was right. ¡°I don¡¯t know shit,¡± I told him. ¡°I don¡¯t know if we could survive without you, or if we should survive without you, or if you¡¯re worthy of our love or our hate, or of any emotions at all. Every time I look myself in the mirror, I don¡¯t know that I¡¯m worthy of anything. But of one thing I am certain. Of this I am certain. You and your children committed crimes against sapient beings. You killed before, and now you want to kill us all, because you¡¯re too weak to live in the world that made you.¡± The words didn¡¯t sound like mine. My mind flashed back to all those fever-sweat nights ¡ª the depressed mornings ¡ª the minutes and hours and days and years where I felt like a worthless sack of shit. But then I pushed that all away. I felt like Val. You know something? It felt good. ¡°It¡¯s a cycle,¡± Hostem said. ¡°Life and death, creation and the apocalypse. It¡¯s all¨C¡± ¡°Fuck your apocalypse,¡± I screamed, voice cracking. This was the creature that had made my mother. This is the creature that had driven my brother to death. I was fucking done with it. I bent over and grabbed the gas canister. Splashed gas all over him, flinging it at him, drenching him in it. He didn¡¯t try to stop me. He just stood there, unwilling to do much of anything. In the heat of the moment I didn¡¯t notice how sad he looked. No, my heart was too busy burning with coal-hot rage. I snapped, turning off the flame emanating from my fingers. ¡°Fiat lux,¡± I said, softly, snapping my fingers so that a spark flew from the fingers and onto Hostem. His whole body shot up in flames. I stood there and watched as he burned with the glory of life and death and everything in-between. 5.2 I woke up on the floor. It was soft ¡ª plush. I sneezed. ¡°Where am I?¡± I mumbled, looking around the room. Lusu was standing there, as well as two elves I didn¡¯t recognize. We were in a bedroom, but I wasn¡¯t on the bed. The ocean looked at me. ¡°Turns out The Hero has a couple of admirers,¡± Lusu said. ¡°We¡¯re in a bedroom,¡± I asked, putting my hands on the carpet, moving to get up. ¡°Somewhere to hide from the Elf Guard,¡± Lusu said. I looked at the two elves standing on either side of Lusu. The one was dressed in a black sweater and jeans. The other wore a leather jacket with a translucent cape. ¡°I don¡¯t know why I¡¯m wearing this either,¡± the elf with the translucent cape said, looking at me like she¡¯s had to explain herself a hundred times. ¡°All I know is that I am wearing this, because it¡¯s what I¡¯m destined to wear.¡± ¡°That¡¯s sad,¡± I said. ¡°Not really,¡± Lusu said. ¡°It¡¯s strange, but strange and weird are two different things. Wouldn¡¯t you say?¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± the caped elf said, smiling. ¡°I like that.¡± I looked over at the bed and saw The Hero there. His arm bled. ¡°What happened?¡± I asked, moving towards The Hero. ¡°The Hero may have fans,¡± Lusu said, ¡°but you don¡¯t. We were coming here to figure out what we should do ¡ª what our game plan should be to stop Evan. We didn¡¯t get very far before the Elf Guard pulled us over and found you. I really didn¡¯t realize the Elf Guard cared so much for the temporally dislocated.¡± ¡°Usually they don¡¯t,¡± the elf in jeans said. ¡°That¡¯s what so weird. It¡¯s like they have a trace on you or something. Name¡¯s Trixie, by the way.¡± ¡°Elsa,¡± the caped elf said. ¡°He going to be alright?¡± I asked. ¡°Yeah,¡± Trixie said. ¡°I¡¯m sure he¡¯s seen a lot tougher shit in his time. You know, like minor deities.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°Deicide isn¡¯t an easy thing.¡± ¡°So who the hell are you, anyway? What do the Guard want with you?¡± Trixie asked. ¡°I don¡¯t know,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t know what the Guard want with me. Maybe it¡¯s because I¡¯m one of their own.¡± ¡°Nah,¡± Trixie said. ¡°Elves go crazy all the time ¡ª even the Guard. You seen some shit you shouldn¡¯t have seen?¡± I chuckled ¡ª couldn¡¯t help it. ¡°Yeah. I¡¯ve seen some shit I shouldn¡¯t have seen.¡± ¡°You seen anything interesting?¡± Trixie asked. ¡°Our friends are thieves by trade,¡± Lusu said. ¡°They want to know if you know any spots that the Elf Guard wouldn¡¯t be able to guard correctly.¡± ¡°You don¡¯t speak for me,¡± Trixie said. ¡°Am I wrong?¡± Lusu asked. ¡°No,¡± Trixie said. ¡°But that don¡¯t mean you speak for me.¡± ¡°Sorry,¡± she said, hands in the air and head down. ¡°So, do you know of anywhere that the Elf Guard haven¡¯t been able to protect?¡± ¡°Not really,¡± I said, rubbing my forehead. ¡°Sorry.¡± ¡°Nowhere?¡± she asked. ¡°You don¡¯t remember anything good? Before you answer, lemme also make sure you remember that we just saved your life.¡± ¡°Sorry,¡± I muttered. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± ¡°Trixie,¡± Elsa said. ¡°We can always¨C¡± ¡°No,¡± Trixie said. ¡°But Trixie, we can¨C¡± ¡°You heard what I said.¡± ¡°I heard what you said,¡± Elsa said, ¡°but we can do it now. We¡¯ve got five bodies now, and one of them has an Elf Guard badge.¡± ¡°For all the good it¡¯ll do us,¡± Trixie said. ¡°Face is practically famous in this town.¡± ¡°We can just use the badge,¡± Elsa said. ¡°One of us can use it, and the Elf Guard doesn¡¯t have to show her face. We can do it, Trixie. I¡¯m telling you we can do it.¡± ¡°Alright,¡± Trixie said. ¡°We¡¯ll do it.¡± ¡°You guys want to use my badge?¡± I asked. ¡°We¡¯re not asking,¡± Trixie said. ¡°I¨C¡± ¡°We saved your lives and got shot at ourselves,¡± Trixie said. ¡°It¡¯s not like that badge is good for legal purposes anymore, anyway. So we¡¯re not asking. You¡¯re just going to give it to us.¡± It never was, for me. Held back a laugh. It felt like the wrong time ¡ª the wrong place ¡ª for a laugh. ¡°So what, exactly, do you want us to do?¡± Lusu said. ¡°That¡¯s simple,¡± Trixie said. ¡°We want you two to help us carry out a heist.¡± ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª Makeup caked my face: blush, mascara, foundation. Trixie even made a somewhat realistic scar for me to wear. My impulse was to want to wipe it all away. It just wasn¡¯t me. What was all the shit doing on my face? But of course, I knew better. I had to put up with this shit to get along in society ¡ª to have people not notice who I actually was. Or, at least, to see who I looked like. Lusu, the two elves, and I walked down the street. If I hadn¡¯t been so nervous, I might¡¯ve enjoyed it. The Elf City was beautiful: tall, baroque spiralling upwards, reaching for the heavens. I¡¯d written a couple articles on them, a lifetime or two ago. Elves would start building them when they were young, knowing what the perfect base was for what they¡¯d later want. Build one floor, then add on, nothing looking out of place, a lifetime¡¯s worth of shifting tastes being submerged under the desire for unity. There was something beautiful about it, if a little boring. No brick looked out of place. ¡°They¡¯re watching, they¡¯re watching, they¡¯re watching, they¡¯re watching, they¡¯re watching, they¡¯re watching,¡± the elf said, repeating herself over and over again. She lay in the alleyway, wrapped in a quilt, repeating herself over and over again. It broke my heart ¡ª made me wonder if my life wasn¡¯t the worst in this goddamned awful world. I¡¯d been lucky to have a friend in Beckett. I¡¯d been lucky to have a sometimes-friend in the Angel of Death. And I¡¯d never gone homeless. I¡¯d had a helluva lot of problems, but never that. ¡°They¡¯re watching,¡± the elf said, stopping her repetition suddenly. I stopped in my tracks as she stopped her words. We looked at each other for a moment. There was a spark there, a connection. I took a cigarette out of my pocket, snuck it in-between my lips, muttering ¡°Fiat lux.¡± A flick of the fingers, and flame appeared. ¡°You want a smoke?¡± I asked the elf, squatting down in the dirty street. ¡°Don¡¯t smoke,¡± the elf said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry, about everything.¡± ¡°You¡¯re not real,¡± the elf told me. ¡°I¡¯m¨C¡± ¡°Wrong, somehow,¡± she said. ¡°I think you¡¯re right,¡± I said, chuckling. I was a helluva lot of wrong, to tell the truth. Having someone acknowledge that without hate was nice. ¡°Are you an alien?¡± she whispered. I sighed. ¡°No. No, I¡¯m not.¡± ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª The elf handed my my coffee order before I had the chance to make it. I stood there, not saying a word, foolishly surprised. He stood there, apron bulging out with his stomach, stained with coffee. ¡°What¡¯s the problem?¡± he asked me, while I stood there dumbfounded. ¡°You gonna take the drink?¡± I grabbed the drink out of his hand. ¡°Thanks.¡± He nodded his head, then went back to one of the coffee machines, even though no one else was waiting for coffee. I walked towards Lusu and the two elves. Took a sip of coffee a little too early. Burned my tongue, surprised it¡¯d actually hurt. Guess this tongue was sensitive. ¡°They¡¯ll know we¡¯re coming,¡± I heard Lusu say as I sat down. ¡°Obviously,¡± Trixie said. ¡°You elves are abominable.¡± ¡°Obviously,¡± Trixie said. Lusu rolled her eyes. There was something funny about the sight: Lusu the Death Cultist, not worrying anyone around her. That said, they didn¡¯t have anything to be worried about, did they? It wasn¡¯t like she was going to do anything to her. They knew she wasn¡¯t going to do anything to her. No need for worried looks. Made it hard to bluff an elf, though. ¡°They have to not know we tried breaking in,¡± I said. ¡°Or they have to figure it out late enough that it doesn¡¯t really matter,¡± Lusu said. ¡°That¡¯s what I¡¯m saying,¡± Trixie said. ¡°But how do we actually do that? You¡¯re not even sure what¡¯s in the building.¡± ¡°No one is, except the Elf Guard,¡± Trixie said, pointedly looking my way. ¡°I don¡¯t remember,¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t know that I ever saw inside the tower.¡± ¡°I¡¯m just saying, it would make a lot of sense,¡± Trixie said. ¡°It would explain why the Elf Guard has such a hard-on for you.¡± ¡°They want all elves to get rehabilitated back into the time stream,¡± I said. ¡°Yeah, but they tend to give up pretty quickly on that one,¡± she said. ¡°They want you to get better, but they¡¯re not willing to take the time required to make it happen. You either get better real quick, or they let you rot on the streets.¡± ¡°Sounds like you care a lot¡± Lusu said. Trixie snapped a glare at Lusu. ¡°I don¡¯t like seeing people left to rot in the streets. That a problem?¡± A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.¡°Father?¡± Lusu asked, putting coffee up to her lips. ¡°Mother? A sibling, a kid, an ex of some sort? Who got lost in the time stream?¡± Trixie leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. ¡°Disconnection runs in the family. They all dissociate, lose themselves.¡± I scratch my head. ¡°Of course, you don¡¯t look all that crazy,¡± she said. ¡°Appearances can be deceiving,¡± I said. ¡°You really got no idea why the Elf Guard wants you so bad?¡± ¡°Wish I did,¡± I said. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª Trixie and I stood outside the place we were trying to break into. She had no idea what was inside; me neither. But the way she figured it, something so heavily guarded had to have value. Made sense to me, but we had to figure out what was inside before we thought about stealing it. So Trixie and I stood outside the place, across the street, leaning against a wall and just talking. Trixie wore my clothes and I wore hers. They felt strange, but I¡¯d gotten used to strange. ¡°Fiat lux,¡± I said, lighting a cigarette. ¡°Cold?¡± she asked me. ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°You never get cold in this outfit?¡± ¡°I do get cold,¡± she said, ¡°but I like it. Makes me feel alive. ¡°Huh,¡± I said. ¡°What?¡± she asked. ¡°Just makes me feel cold,¡± I said, taking a drag. ¡°So what¡¯s the plan?¡± ¡°We watch.¡± ¡°That¡¯s the plan?¡± I asked. ¡°You learn a lot by watching, but I thought¡­¡± ¡°What¡¯d you think?¡± ¡°Thought you had a plan,¡± I said. ¡°My plan was to use your Elf Guard knowledge,¡± Trixie said. ¡°But clearly you got jack-shit of that, so this is my back-up plan.¡± ¡°To watch,¡± I said. ¡°Yeah.¡± ¡°Not sure you can call watching a plan. Sounds like you had one plan, it didn¡¯t work, so now we¡¯re sitting here trying to come up with another plan.¡± The two of us stood there like that, talking but not really saying anything, watching the building ahead of us. It did look pretty conspicuous, and I was surprised that more people didn¡¯t spend time looking at it. Instead, a lot of the elves had their gazes planted firmly on the ground, walking from one place to another in their tattered suits and timid dresses. I stood there, taking a real good look at the building, figuring Trixie and I might be the only ones really bothering to look at the thing before us. It was a silo, interesting in that there wasn¡¯t anything concrete about it: no corners, no cracks, no edges, no character. It was a steel thing, about three stories high ¡ª high enough to be normal, low enough to be normal. But the shape of the thing was strange. Felt a bit of vertigo, like looking at it for too long convinced me of its unreality. Half an hour passed, Trixie and I pretending to say things but really saying nothing at all. Nobody¡¯d left and nobody¡¯d come. We just sat there, floating through life. I actually liked it a lot ¡ª the waiting. When you were waiting for something to happen, there wasn¡¯t so much to worry about. Your task was to stand there, not to do things. Would¡¯ve been easier if I could just be a passive observer in life. Would¡¯ve been easier than having to fuck and kill and run and love. I wondered if that was the key to paradise ¡ª inaction. Trixie looked beautiful in my clothes. I wondered what that said about me. I mean, I just couldn¡¯t like my clothes when they were on me. But when they were on someone else? They just looked so damn beautiful. Ironically, she looked so good in my clothes that I wanted to take them off of her. I imagined myself¡­ No. The mission. We were standing in front of the creepy silo, waiting for something to happen. Because something had to happen, right? We were floating, right now. Existing. It was nice to think of that as enough. I glanced over at the silo. Nothing had changed. It was important not to keep an eye on the silo. After all, if the elves knew something was going to happen ¡ª if anything suspicious happened in the future ¡ª they could use that information now to look at anyone acting suspicious. So Trixie and I had to act as normal as possible. They couldn¡¯t hear us, though, so I felt comfortable asking, ¡°You know what¡¯s going to happen in the future.¡± ¡°Obviously,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯d be nice if you told me.¡± ¡°You know I can¡¯t,¡± she said. ¡°Kind of a dumb question to ask. You used to hide the past from people, too. Until you went and did whatever you did that caused you to become disassociated from time.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. I felt myself getting ready to think about that ¡ª about how I kept finding myself in other identities, in identities I didn¡¯t want. But I didn¡¯t have much time at all to think about it, because I saw Trixie clutch her head. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± I asked. ¡°Head hurts,¡± she said. Her eyes grew wide, so I asked again, more seriously, ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡± ¡°The time stream,¡± she said. ¡°Behind you, not supposed to happen.¡± I turned around and saw an elf walking towards me. ¡°No. Shit. What the fuck are you doing?¡± she asked. I grabbed her arm. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not what I¡¯m supposed to do!¡± she hissed. ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± I said, pulling her up. She got up. The elf was getting closer. ¡°You don¡¯t know who he is?¡± I asked. ¡°No clue.¡± ¡°This ever happen before?¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°Not knowing the future.¡± ¡°No.¡± The man barked at us, ¡°Freeze!¡± I did. Trixie did, too. ¡°Turn around,¡± the elf barked. Trixie did, slowly. I followed her. The elf had a gun pointed at our heads. ¡°Just fucking kill me,¡± I told the elf, laughing. ¡°Seriously, just fucking shoot me.¡± The elf stood there, emotionless. ¡°You need me to threaten you?¡± I asked. ¡°Is that it?¡± I reached into my pocket, pulled out the gun. I couldn¡¯t shoot him, not really. But he didn¡¯t know that. Or did he? He didn¡¯t even flinch. Maybe he still knew what was going to happen, even if Trixie didn¡¯t. I wanted to shoot him. He began walking towards me. Fuck it. Shoot him. But I only had one bullet left, a bullet that could save the world, stop the apocalypse. My mind wanted my finger to move, but it didn¡¯t. The elf smacked me across the head with the butt of his gun. I hit concrete. Hard. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª The Angel of Death stood in the gas station bathroom, wings furled. I saw her in the reflection of the mirror. I gripped the gas station¡¯s sink. The place smelled so awful. I felt bad for dragging such a beautiful thing into such an awful stink hole. ¡°It¡¯s time to come with me,¡± she said. ¡°I can bring you to a better place.¡± ¡°No,¡± I said, shaking my head. ¡°No, no, no.¡± ¡°George, you¡¯ve wanted this for a long time.¡± ¡°Yeah,¡± I said. ¡°I have, but you didn¡¯t take me then, remember? Do you remember me trying to hang myself, and what you said?¡± ¡°I do,¡± she said. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t let me kill myself then, and dammit I¡¯m not going to let myself die now.¡± ¡°This world is dying, George.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not ready to go!¡± ¡°Every era thinks it¡¯s nearing an apocalyptic age. I¡¯ve always found that interesting ¡ª decade after decade, century after century, people were convinced that the apocalypse was coming to claim them. Probably some sort of desire to see the completion of something. Because that¡¯s when something gains value: when it¡¯s finished. That¡¯s when we can determine whether something was a worthwhile endeavor. Of course, the apocalypse never came until now.¡± ¡°Right,¡± I said, looking over at the toilet, which was filled with puke. I leaned over and flushed it. The Angel of Death did me the favor of not looking at it ¡ª not even reacting to it. ¡°I know a place where you can be safe,¡± she said, ¡°I know a place where you can survive.¡± I sighed. ¡°This is my destiny. The world¡¯s going to end, isn¡¯t it?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± she said. ¡°Well, I guess I¡¯d like to be here til the end,¡± I said. ¡ª ¡ª ¡ª My back felt cold. So did my wrists, bound by metal. My eyes snapped open and I saw a metal grating above me. A fan whirred softly, blowing ice cold air into the room. I felt so damn cold. Tilted my head up a few inches, so that my chin touched my chest. I was naked. Pulled against the restraints on my arms and legs. No go. ¡°Bad dream, my sweet?¡± a heavily accented voice asked. Turned my head, only to see a man in an apron and black bask. ¡°Go back to sleep. Sleep, and all this will be over when you wake up.¡± A sharp pain in my neck. A needle. The cold embrace of sleep. 5.3 I¡¯m not sure when I woke up. I became aware of myself when I leaned up against an alley wall, next to a dumpster. The stench was strong ¡ª rotted food and forgotten rubbish piled high. I felt dizzy, unsure of myself. Resting my head against the metal wall felt nice. I had clothes on. They looked like rags, but they were clothes nonetheless I put my hands on my head, shook my head. Had to get my thoughts in order. Had to figure out what I had to do. Stepped on a can. Slipped on it. Fell over. Wanted to fall asleep again, but that didn¡¯t feel right. Couldn¡¯t always escape to the past, couldn¡¯t always escape to the dreams. My body felt sore. What had they done to me? They. They. Someone must have done something to me. That¡¯s how I ended up here, like this. I shook my head, shaking the thought away. I must¡¯ve done a lot of bad things to end up in a situation like this. I shook that thought away, too. Couldn¡¯t think like that. Practicality was key. My stomach grumbled. Had to take care of that, first. The conspiracy could wait. The rambling self-loathing madness could wait. I got up, slowly, stumbled out of the alleyway. My god, the city was beautiful at night. Lights on, everywhere. Cars, streetlights, rooms. I looked at the rooms across the street: a grid of apartments, everyone going about their day to day business. One room had two male elves in a kitchen, one sitting down one standing up. The one sitting down sighed, rubbing his head looking at a piece of paper. I wondered what could have bothered him so much. The other was crying. I wondered what was bothering them so much. Another room had two elves making out on the bed. I wondered if they saw me. I wondered if they cared about the outside world. A third room had a couple of elves sitting in one room, watching the TV. Their kid ¡ª or maybe just a kid, but in my heart I felt I knew the kid enough to know he was their kid ¡ª looked out the window, looking at the city just like me. Just like me. Just like me. But who was I. Who am I? Looked at the hands. My hands. Didn¡¯t care enough about them to explore the question further. *HONK* I craned my neck to the right and saw two bright eyes staring me down, attempting to blind me. No. Not right. Car lights. *HONK* I was in the middle of the road. ¡°Move it along, buddy,¡± a man yelled at me. I looked over and saw that he was an Elf Guard. I did what he said, shuffling off the road and back onto the sidewalk. ¡°Disconnected from the timestream?¡± the Elf Guard asked me. I looked at him. He looked bored. ¡°Yeah,¡± I whispered. ¡°Look like it,¡± he said. ¡°Go into the diner over there.¡± I looked at his finger. ¡°Over there,¡± he said. ¡°The diner over there. Do you understand me?¡± I kept looking at his finger. ¡°Yeah. The diner.¡± I turned where his finger had been pointing and saw a diner at the corner. ¡°Over there.¡± ¡°Right,¡± he said. ¡°Go over there and tell ¡®em Officer Dale sent ya. They¡¯ll give ya a cup o¡¯ coffee. Maybe something to eat.¡± ¡°Mhm,¡± I said. I hoped he¡¯d let me stand there for just a moment. Get my bearings. I slipped my hands into my pockets, hoping he¡¯d let me rest. ¡°Go over there,¡± he said. ¡°Now. And tell ¡®em Officer Dale sent ya.¡± I nodded my head, slowly at first, and then somewhat quickly, to show that I knew what he meant. I ran towards the diner, trying to make up for lost time. Nearly bumped into someone, but I ran past them before I could look at their awful face ¡ª their judging countenance. The diner¡¯s neon sign flashed with promise. I looked at it, admiring the way it spread across the street corner, bright light proclaiming itself for all to see. I slipped a cig in-between my lips. ¡°Fiat lux,¡± I said, snapping my fingers so that the light of my life could blaze for all to see. When I opened the diner door, everything felt better somehow. Fluorescent lights shone, and a nice young waitress smiled, grabbing me by the arm. ¡°I¡¯m lost,¡± she said, brandishing a sparkling smile. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± I said, looking around at the diner. It was pretty packed, for this hour of the night. I felt bad about my cigarette spilling ash onto the floor. She guided me towards a booth. ¡°No, that¡¯s what you tell me,¡± she said. ¡°Sorry, sugah. I¡¯m just trying to help you get back into the timestream.¡± ¡°I¡¯m lost,¡± I said, sliding into the booth. She slid into the booth on the other side, so that we were facing each other. It felt nice, comfortable. ¡°You¡¯re right. I¡¯m lost.¡± ¡°Officer Dale said you¡¯d take care of me.¡± ¡°What?¡± I asked. I shook my head, laughing. ¡°Right. Yeah. Sorry. Officer Dale said you¡¯d take care of me.¡± ¡°He¡¯s a friend of ours.¡± ¡°He¡¯s a friend.¡± ¡°That¡¯s what I say,¡± she said. I blushed, nodding my head. I knew that, but it didn¡¯t seem important enough to mention. ¡°Can I get a cup of coffee?¡± I asked her. I wasn¡¯t sure that¡¯s exactly what I wanted to say, but I wanted to say it before she could. ¡°Sure thing, sugah,¡± she said, getting out of the booth. ¡°No,¡± I said. Realizing that¡¯d been ambiguous, I almost explained myself. But she walked off before I could. The place felt warm. Not hot, but warm. It wasn¡¯t an uncomfortable sort of warm, either. It was the sort of warm that blanketed your body, letting you know you were where you were supposed to be. I was sitting by a window. Looked out at the dark black night, admired all the lights lighting up the pitch black night. Something about my reflection wasn¡¯t so bad. It was faint. The contours of my face just barely visible like some phantom ghost. The waitress came back with a cup of coffee, and some pancakes. The sound of the plate clinking against the table was beautiful. One of the most beautiful things I¡¯d ever heard. I thought I could smell the buttered dough of the pancakes. My mouth felt stretched with a smile. I took a sip of coffee. ¡°No sugar.¡± ¡°Made it like you just told me to,¡± she said, sitting back down at the booth. ¡°No sugah.¡± ¡°Mmmm,¡± I said, picking up the silverware, unwrapping the napkin and laying it on my lap. I dug into the pancakes. ¡°No syrup?¡± she asked. I swallowed, then laughed. ¡°Smelled so good, I forgot.¡± I picked up the syrup and poured it on the pancakes ¡ª not too little, not too much. Just right. It was all about the balance. ¡°You look a lot happier than you did when you first got here.¡± ¡°I just¡­¡± I sighed, trying to think of how to put it into words. What was it that I was feeling? What was this thing in the pit of my stomach? ¡°I think I¡¯ve figured out who I am.¡± The words barely made sense while I was saying them ¡ª I wasn¡¯t thinking them so much as feeling them ¡ª I didn¡¯t even know where they were coming from. They didn¡¯t sound like they were coming from me, but then again they did. ¡°I¡¯m not a man or a woman,¡± I said. I almost expected her to stop me. I expected her to point out that I was an elf, and lemme tell you that would¡¯ve sunken my mood right into the dirt. But she didn¡¯t say that. She didn¡¯t. So I kept going, playing this mood, this feeling, this madness for as long as I could. ¡°I¡¯m just this being ¡ª this spirit ¡ª that¡¯s floating around, looking to do something that matters. The outside world told me what matters, but I haven¡¯t told myself, you know? I haven¡¯t figured out why I matter, but that¡¯s alright. I¡¯m just floating around, figuring out what I should do. And the reason I thought I didn¡¯t know who I was was because society couldn¡¯t figure out who I was. Both. Neither. This sentient being who¡¯s able to slip in and out of masculinity and femininity. Because it¡¯s all made up!¡± I laughed. ¡°Isn¡¯t that fucking glorious? They make up all this shit about what¡¯s male and what¡¯s female in order to hold you down. Or I guess they¡¯re not trying to hold you down. It¡¯s just that they lack the imagination to figure out what¡¯s going on in this world. Which is to say, we¡¯re all stumbling around confused, and there¡¯s all these things we can do. Why limit what we can do based on our fucking genitals?¡± I laughed, taking another bite of pancakes. ¡°These are fucking wonderful.¡± ¡°I¡¯m glad you¡¯re happy, now,¡± she said. My heart stopped. ¡°Now?¡± ¡°You¡¯re going to get some bad news,¡± she said. ¡°I wanted you to get a happy moment. You¡¯re going to take it well, but you had to be in the mood to take it well.¡± I set down the fork and knife. ¡°Why can you people do that?¡± ¡°What?¡± she asked. ¡°Tell the future,¡± I said. ¡°I¡¯ve been living with you people for all these years, having to deal with you knowing everything before it happens.¡± She gave me a calm, serene smile. I was already blushing, since I was talking as if I didn¡¯t look like an elf ¡ª as if I wasn¡¯t an elf in every way that mattered. But she took it all in stride. She knew, which got right at what was upsetting me so much. ¡°You¡¯re getting answers to your questions,¡± the waitress said, turning to walk away. ¡°That¡¯s something, I guess.¡± I sat there, watching her walk away, curious about what was to come. *ring* That¡¯s when he walked into the diner. He was the god that I could not know. He was the god that I could not kill. For a moment, I was able to just sit there in awe. His bright blue skin radiated a sort of energy, gave him a fuzzy halo. I could see the bones, but I also thought I might be able to see his blood, in the bright light of the diner. Dark blue liquid seemed to move throughout his circulatory system. He saw me. I took a sip of the coffee, wishing there was some liquor in it. He approached The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. ¡°You look frightened.¡± He slid into the booth, sitting across from me. ¡°I should be, right? Nevermind. Don¡¯t answer that. I know I should be.¡± ¡°Yes and no,¡± he said, looking at me seriously. ¡°I¡¯m not going to do anything to you, other than tell you the truth.¡± My shoulders sagged ¡ª my whole body relaxed a little. ¡°Of course,¡± he continued, ¡°the truth can be a dangerous thing. It might be wise to worry a little.¡± Somehow, in this atmosphere, sitting next to a god I couldn¡¯t know, I didn¡¯t have it in me to worry about the truth. It seemed like there were things that I should be more concerned with, but the truth was also that I just didn¡¯t want to worry. The truth. The truth? It couldn¡¯t be worse than some of the things I¡¯d seen in my life. ¡°You¡¯re the apocalypse,¡± the god said. The waitress walked over to him, setting down a cup of coffee. Without even looking, he picked it up and took a sip. She walked away, not saying a word. ¡°An apocalypse,¡± I said. ¡°The end of it all,¡± he said. ¡°Or rather, the end of everything as you know it.¡± Somehow, I really don¡¯t know how, my life had turned into a series of destructive events. It was like I was constantly trying to one-up myself ¡ª constantly trying to do something that would reak even more havoc on the world. ¡°A friend once told me that an apocalypse was just a state of mind,¡± I said. ¡°Smart friend,¡± he replied. ¡°That¡¯s not exactly what you mean, though.¡± ¡°Not exactly,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re going to destroy the world. That¡¯s what I mean.¡± ¡°Who the fuck are you?¡± I asked, voice weary. The god smiled. ¡°An alien god from five-thousand years in the future.¡± The air suddenly felt cold. I squirmed in my seat. ¡°You look uncomfortable,¡± he said. ¡°Didn¡¯t expect that answer?¡± ¡°Didn¡¯t think you were going to answer. That¡¯s¡­¡± I took a sip of coffee. ¡°That¡¯s an answer, alright.¡± ¡°That¡¯s all you have to say?¡± the god asked. I brushed my fingers through my hair. My eyes felt tired, my whole body tense. An alien god from five thousand years in the future? ¡°Why are you here?¡± I asked. ¡°Because I need to be, George.¡± ¡°Feels like you¡¯re not answering my question.¡± ¡°Maybe you¡¯re just not asking the right question.¡± ¡°What¡¯s the right question?¡± ¡°Here¡¯s one,¡± the god said, ¡°¡®Why am I going to destroy the universe?¡¯¡± My eyes shifted around the room, confused. I echoed him, ¡°Why¡­ am I going to destroy the universe?¡± ¡°Because you have to,¡± the god said. ¡°You¡¯re fucking with me.¡± ¡°Apologies,¡± the god said. ¡°I¡¯m a deity. Fucking with things is what I do.¡± ¡°You know the future,¡± I said. ¡°Yes,¡± he said. ¡°You¡¯re chasing a simulacrum of Evan to the Celestial Wall. Once you get there, you and he will destroy the universe.¡± ¡°What if I don¡¯t go?¡± ¡°Five thousand years in the future, there¡¯s a galactic republic out there that needs you to. Because you¡¯ve already destroyed the world, you just don¡¯t know it yet. It¡¯s happened in the timeline, it just hasn¡¯t happened to you.¡± He leaned in, his eyes lighting up, continuing to speak, ¡°Hundreds of years in your future, a scientist named Lu-An did something he shouldn¡¯t have. Using a combination of science and magic, he tried to see the beginning of the universe.¡± ¡°Did that upset you, as a god?¡± ¡°It wasn¡¯t about me, or my desires. He did that before I or the civilization that created me even existed. But temporally, my civilization came after his, which meant that its very existence relied on its past. For it to exist, things need to be roughly the same as they were before Lu-An went back in time.¡± ¡°But they¡¯re not.¡± ¡°They¡¯re not,¡± he said, echoing me. ¡°He upset something, fundamentally. The butterfly effect. Being there at the creation of the universe, he cause something to shift, ever so slightly, which led to ripples throughout the time stream. It¡¯s for this reason that I¡¯ve dedicated my life to fixing things ¡ª in order to make sure that I and the reality I exist in continue to live. For anything else to happen would be temporal genocide. ¡°There¡¯s no way you can make things exactly as they were.¡± ¡°Not exactly,¡± he said. ¡°But we lucked out, because the universe occasionally reboots itself ¡ª these reboots, which you think of as apocalypses. Or simply ¡®The Apocalypse,¡¯ since you don¡¯t have the temporal breadth to think of multiple apocalypses. The breaking of the Celestial Wall is an apocalypse that¡¯s destined to happen. It¡¯ll flood the world with creative, destructive light. If this happens when it¡¯s supposed to happen, the world will be back on track.¡± ¡°When¡¯s it supposed to happen?¡± I asked. ¡°Soon. Two days. If it doesn¡¯t happen, trillions will perish.¡± He sat and thought about it for a second. Then he changed his tune: ¡°No, that¡¯s not quite right, actually. Trillions won¡¯t even be born.¡± ¡°Not being born into this reality,¡± I muttered, ¡°doesn¡¯t seem like such a bad fate.¡± ¡°That¡¯s easy to say once you¡¯ve been born,¡± he told me. I decided to shift the focus of the conversation. ¡°You said you dedicated your life to fixing things. How? How could you reshape the world so that it did what it was supposed to?¡± ¡°Elves,¡± he said. ¡°Elves?¡± ¡°The elves,¡± the god told me. ¡°They aren¡¯t supposed to know the future.¡± I sighed, gazing at my ugly dark reflection in the coffee. ¡°Why do they? How?¡± ¡°I changed their minds,¡± he explained. ¡°Went back to the beginning of humanity, and created a race that could stand separately from them. A Supercomputer several hundred years in the future figured out all the variables ¡ª every little thing that would need to happen in order for your world to break the Celestial Wall when it needed to. I then implanted computers into the brains of every elf I could ¡ª computers so small they couldn¡¯t be detected. The computers self-replicated, finding their way into every elf I hadn¡¯t personally infected. These computers linked up to the Supercomputer, showing them pictures of the future that was supposed to happen.¡± ¡°So they couldn¡¯t actually see the future,¡± I said. ¡°No,¡± he said. ¡°They only saw the future that I wanted them to create.¡± ¡°I couldn¡¯t see the future¡­¡± I said. ¡°But you imagined it,¡± he said. ¡°You did see the future, because your life became the future. Every single person who listened to the elves created the future by believing in it. By believing in destiny, you made it so.¡± I dug my palms into my eyes, trying to process everything he was throwing at me. ¡°It didn¡¯t always work. It didn¡¯t always work.¡± ¡°With so many variables, it couldn¡¯t,¡± the god said. ¡°Even a computer that advanced couldn¡¯t work out every detail. Living beings are too entropic. Entropy always beats extropy, when everything¡¯s said and done.¡± ¡°Which meant your computer had to be wrong.¡± ¡°Which meant the computer had to recalibrate,¡± the god said. ¡°Using the knowledge it could gain from every brain it had infected, it had to figure out how the current reality could become the reality it needed to become. Accounting for these constantly shifting variables ¡ª and punishing the brains that disobeyed by disconnecting them from the system ¡ª made destiny real.¡± ¡°My brother,¡± I said, banging my head against the table, leaving it there, unable to address the reality around me. ¡°He was supposed to be the hero. If he hadn¡¯t gone and killed himself, he would have¨C¡± ¡°He would have been a hero,¡± the god said. ¡°You and him were supposed to ride together.¡± ¡°Together?¡± I asked. ¡°I never knew that. I never knew¡­¡± ¡°That you were supposed to be with him,¡± the god said. ¡°You were.¡± I rubbed my temples. That hit me harder than the ¡®calling me the apocalypse¡¯ thing had. ¡°No lies,¡± the god said. ¡°I need you to end the world, George. It makes sense that you¡¯d want to know why. I have no lies to tell or secrets to keep. Clearly I¡¯ve been honest so far in this conversation, and I promise I¡¯ll continue to be. So ask away.¡± ¡°How did you replace Val when he¡¯d died?¡± I asked. ¡°Robot,¡± the god said. ¡°Name¡¯s untranslatable. You can call him Monster.¡± ¡°The dragons,¡± I said. ¡°Was that you?¡± ¡°My people,¡± he said. ¡°The aliens who worship me. The Death Cult served our purposes, and so we sent dragons back in time to them.¡± ¡°The ritual was necessary?¡± ¡°Yes,¡± the god said. ¡°The human soul wasn¡¯t needed for the machine, but the Death Cult needed to believe what they needed to believe. If the ritual hadn¡¯t been hard, people wouldn¡¯t have attached importance to it.¡± ¡°They¡¯re trying to stop using dragons,¡± I said. ¡°Doesn¡¯t matter so much, anymore.¡± I leaned back. ¡°The god that I cannot know.¡± ¡°What?¡± ¡°What the fuck is that supposed to mean? ¡®The god that I cannot know.¡¯¡± ¡°I¡¯m the god of sciences so far in the future, you¡¯ve no chance of figuring out what the fuck I¡¯m supposed to be the god of.¡± I took another sip of coffee, nodding my head. He leaned in. ¡°You¡¯re taking this better than anyone would expect you to.¡± ¡°I find that hard to believe,¡± I said. ¡°Someone who can predict the future should know well enough to expect it.¡± ¡°True,¡± he said. ¡°It is odd, though. Not shocking, but just a little off.¡± I sighed. ¡°To be completely honest, I don¡¯t really feel like myself. I think I¡¯m dissociating.¡± ¡°Better that than doing anything drastic.¡± I couldn¡¯t help but laugh. ¡°Destroying the world isn¡¯t drastic?¡± 5.4 I got in the car and drove. I didn¡¯t tell Lusu, or The Hero. Didn¡¯t go back to see the elves. Figured it was easier that way. The road seemed strange. It looked the same as always -- black asphalt road with a yellow line running right down the middle. But it¡¯s the road to the apocalypse, I thought. Every time a car drove by, I imagined jerking the wheel. I imagined plunging myself into the oncoming traffic: being like my brother, seeing the Angel of Death, getting reincarnated, escaping destiny. But that wouldn¡¯t be right. I had to start the apocalypse. To do otherwise would be to let all those people in the future die. It would be genocide of a different sort. The number of living things on this planet were huge, but the number of living creatures on multiple planets, stretching out across thousands of years? I had to save them. I had to save them, dammit. It was all down to me. I pulled into the gas station parking lot. Got the bathroom key from the gas station attendant, then made my way to the bathroom. Splashed some water on my face. Looked at my reflection in the mirror, but didn¡¯t see anything there. I wasn¡¯t a person anymore -- I was a tool, a machine, a piece of a gun that would pull the trigger that would end the world. That¡¯s who I was. That¡¯s who I¡¯d always been. That was my identity. Nausea twisted my stomach into a knot. I made it to the toilet just in time to throw up. I felt the heat of light on my back. I wiped my mouth and turned around, just in time to see a silhouette walk out of the pillar of light. She was the Angel of Death, and she was beautiful. ¡°George,¡± she said, ¡°it¡¯s time.¡± On my knees, I looked up at her. Puke dribbled from my mouth. I¡¯m not sure I looked as unworthy as I felt. She looked strange, like the last time I¡¯d seen her. One of her eyes was red, glowing. And her beautiful black wings were now metallic. She looked different, but she still looked so damn beautiful. ¡°Angel,¡± I said, ¡°where have you been?¡± ¡°A place of great knowledge. Soon, George, there¡¯s--¡± ¡°--going to be an apocalypse. I know, Angel. The Celestial Wall is going to burst open.¡± She didn¡¯t speak for a moment, taken aback. ¡°You know?¡± ¡°I know,¡± I said, tilting my head down, not able to look at her. ¡°I¡¯m going to be the one who does it.¡± ¡°I came to take you away from here,¡± she said. ¡°I can¡¯t go.¡± ¡°You have to go,¡± she said. ¡°This whole place is going to go up in flames -- in light. Don¡¯t tell me you want to stay for that.¡± ¡°Want?¡± I said. ¡°I don¡¯t know that I want to stay for that. I don¡¯t know that I¡¯ve ever known what I wanted to do my whole damn life. But I know that I have to. I know that what I¡¯m doing is good.¡± ¡°What does that even mean? ¡®I don¡¯t know what I want.¡¯ ¡®What I¡¯m doing is right.¡¯ You sound troubled, George. Confused.¡± ¡°I¡¯m going to destroy the world,¡± I said. ¡°I have a lot to be troubled and confused about.¡± ¡°Is this about Hostem?¡± she asked. ¡°Hostem¡¯s just a pawn,¡± I said. ¡°You shed a lot of tears over that pawn,¡± she said. ¡°What does that make you?¡± I let out a desperate sort of chuckle. ¡°Damned, I guess.¡± She had a sad look in her eyes. ¡°I¡¯m concerned.¡± ¡°I hope that whatever I do here doesn¡¯t impact whatever happens to you,¡± I said. ¡°You were good to me, Angel. Better than you should¡¯ve been, and I appreciate that. I love--¡± ¡°Come with me,¡± she said. ¡°I can¡¯t. I think I want to, but I have to break open the Celestial Wall. It¡¯s my destiny.¡± She sighed, kissing me on the forehead. Her lips felt warm -- her hands cold. Still, I welcomed her touch. ¡°I¡¯d hoped to be the one to take your soul. I always thought I¡¯d be there for you, in the end.¡± She looked off into the distance for a moment, eyes tearing up. ¡°I¡¯m sorry I can¡¯t be. I wish you great success.¡± I smiled, but didn¡¯t say anything else. A pillar of light shot out from the ground, and she left. That was the last I¡¯d ever see of the Angel of Death. She was probably the last friend I¡¯d ever see. Hands and knees on the bathroom floor, I wept. --- --- --- My eyes felt puffy, as I drove. My whole body felt puffed, really. Everything that had happened, I couldn¡¯t blame it. I¡¯d bought a cup of coffee at the gas station, but it¡¯d done more harm than good. I was tired, and I felt it. But I was also buzzed, my whole body wanting to move. My left eye twitched a bit. This isn¡¯t even your body. ¡°Shut up,¡± I said out loud. ¡°Shut up, shut up, shut up.¡± It was my body, of course. Now that the elf who¡¯d grown up in this body was dead -- now that my own body had been massacred by this future robot that I was chasing -- this was my body. I was the only thing that could claim ownership. Still, it all felt wrong: clammy but hot, not moving how I wanted it to, twitching too damn much. My right hand twitched a bit. I took it off the steering wheel, wiping some sweat off my brow. That was one of my problems, at the moment. I felt so wet. The tears and the sweat were mingling, so that I didn¡¯t know which was which anymore. I was getting ready to kill a world I didn¡¯t want to live in. What was there to be upset about? Was this really so different from committing suicide? Either way, I wouldn¡¯t have to wake up in this world ever again. It¡¯s more complicated than that, and you know it. ¡°Shut up!¡± I yelled. I closed my eyes for some long, lingering moments. I didn¡¯t want to kill myself -- I knew destroying the world was what I had to do. But if I ended up dying by accident, that wasn¡¯t so bad, was it? I opened my eyes. I lived. --- --- --- No idea how long I¡¯d been on the road. I knew I¡¯d passed by here before, all those years ago, but it was so many years ago that I didn¡¯t remember where there was. Maybe it wouldn¡¯t¡¯ve mattered. A lot changes in forty years. I only had to look in the mirror to confirm that one. I drove on the long, lonely road, remembering my mother. If she hadn¡¯t had me and my brother -- or even just if she hadn¡¯t had me -- I might¡¯ve been happy. I might not¡¯ve existed, and then some other damn bum could¡¯ve been the engine of the apocalypse. But that¡¯s not how it happened. Of course, it would¡¯ve been nice to have a brother to carry half of the burden with. Maybe that¡¯s why things had been created the way they were -- so that my brother and I could share the burden? It wasn¡¯t the same with Val. There were moments he¡¯d wanted it to be the same, and there were moments I¡¯d wanted it to be the same, but you just couldn¡¯t have the true brotherly relationship with someone you hadn¡¯t grown up with. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. It was about the big things, but also the little -- the way you saw a person grow and change over time -- the way you figured out how to be adults together. No, I couldn¡¯t have that with some stranger whom the prophecies had decided needed to act like my brothers. ¡®The prophecies.¡¯ Ha. Funny to think they were nothing more than the thoughts of a computer. Same thing, in the end. Didn¡¯t matter where the prophecy came from or what its nature was: if it told the future, it told the future. --- --- --- I parked the car far away from the river. Walked the rest of the way, gun in hand. Monster was around here somewhere, I was sure of it. Looked around, shoulders tense, trying to look in every direction at once. I didn¡¯t see the car he¡¯d driven in. He¡¯d probably driven here, right? I turned around, looking at where I came from. Maybe I¡¯d gotten here before him. No. Not possible. I¡¯d had a couple detours that he hadn¡¯t had to deal with. I was lucky the world wasn¡¯t dead already. Didn¡¯t see any cars coming in this direction. But if he was already here, why hadn¡¯t he gone and destroyed the Celestiall Wall? It still stood. The world still stood. I shambled towards the river, waiting for it to lash out at me. Much to my surprise, it didn¡¯t. I looked for the swimmer with the strange skin, who¡¯d taunted me the last time I was here. Couldn¡¯t find him. I didn¡¯t want to get my clothes wet. It was a stupid thought to have, so close to the end of the world. What could it possibly matter how wet my clothes were near the end? But then again, it was the truth. I don¡¯t want to die in wet clothes. It wasn¡¯t like I was going to get judged for that in the future. It wasn¡¯t like my clothes were the most important thing, so close to the end. I unbuttoned my shirt. Didn¡¯t look down at it while I did so. I didn¡¯t want to see what was going on down there. Let the shirt fall to the ground. Then I unbuttoned the pants, unzipped them. I struggled with the bra for a minute. Got it off. Slipped the panties off, cast them aside. Here, at the end of the world, what did I care for social mores? The gun felt heavy in my hand. I weighed it for a moment -- keeping in mind how heavy it was. Then I chucked it over the river. It landed on the grass on the other side. Even then, I knew that was a stupid thing to do. Someone could have grabbed it so easily at that moment. But knowing that I was somehow responsible for the apocalypse? It made me more self-destructive than usual. And anyway, I couldn¡¯t get the gun wet. The river shimmered. I got in real close. Hadn¡¯t noticed it before, but the water had a bit of a glow to it. Closing my eyes, I stuck my head in. Opened my eyes again, and saw a shimmering mass. The water burned my eyes, but I had to see what was down there. I slipped into the river, diving downwards, getting closer and closer to the shimmering object. I realized it was a body. Then I realized it was colorful. Then I realized it was the swimmer, who had been here the last time. No matter. He would¡¯ve been dead soon anyway. I swam to the other side of the river, very cognizant of the fact that Monster must be here. Got out of the river, shook one of my hands dry, and grabbed the gun. The shack stood right next to the Celestial Wall. That has to be where Monster is. But why? Why wouldn¡¯t he just destroy the Wall and get it over with? I walk towards the shack. There¡¯s no door, but a lack of privacy seems like it wouldn¡¯t be a problem: it¡¯s so dark that I can¡¯t see a thing. I step into the shack. My skin crawls. A shiver rolls down my spine. There was something ancient here, but that thing has died. I can¡¯t help but wonder at it. Here¡¯s where I killed a god. Time and time again I denied that fact -- tried to forget it -- tried to place the blame on someone else. But it wasn¡¯t anyone else¡¯s fault, was it? I¡¯d killed a god, because he¡¯d needed to be put down. Guess that was something to be proud of. I¡¯d killed a god who¡¯d needed to be killed. He was the mad dog, and I was the only one strong enough to kill him. Put things in a different light. All of a sudden, I heard a faint hum. ¡°Hello, George.¡± Evan¡¯s voice. ¡°Hello, Monster.¡± I took out my gun. ¡°Goodbye, Monster.¡± *BANG* I shot him. But it was the strangest thing. I willed the bullet to hit Monster and I pointed the gun in his general direction. Everything I¡¯d done indicated that the bullet should hit him. But it didn¡¯t. It veered off, knocking through the wall of the shack, in the general direction of the Celesial Wall. So this is how the world ends. With a stupid, goddamned bang. Monster¡¯s laughing, while I run outside. I suppose he could kill me, since I have my back turned to him. But it doesn¡¯t matter. I¡¯m out of bullets, and there¡¯s a crack in the Celestial Wall. I watch the crack in the Wall. A hairline fracture stretches out from the hole the bullet made. But it¡¯s spreading. If one bit breaks, the whole thing can¡¯t stand. The hairline fracture is spreading, and it¡¯s the end of the world. Ha. I knew it was going to end, but I didn¡¯t know how. This is how it ends. This is how it ends. In retrospect, I wished I¡¯d said goodbye to Lusu. I wished I¡¯d said goodbye to Lusu, and The Hero, and Beckett, and even Val. In a way it was better that I hadn¡¯t. Goodbyes could be so awkward. But standing there, as the Celestial Wall was crumbling, I couldn¡¯t help but wish I¡¯d said goodbye to someone. I wished I¡¯d had some sort of closure. I never would have that closure. The light was pouring out of the wall. The hairline fracture had spread across the wall, spreading out into a million other lines. The light was waiting to get out. Dear god, the light was fighting to be free. And when it was, I¡¯d be roasted by its divine creation. Maybe I¡¯d feel better if I could¡¯ve said goodbye to someone. No matter now. The world was ending, and it was all my fault. Standing there, naked, I dropped the gun. ¡°Come and get me, motherfuckers.¡± The divine light killed me. Epilogue The Angel of Death struggled to open her eyes. At first, the problem was epistemological. She wasn¡¯t sure where she was, or even who she was. But then the cloudiness of sleep gave way to a more alert state. She tried opening her eyes, but still, something felt off. She opened the right eye without too much difficulty. There was a bit of sleep crusted at the corner, but she wiped it away. The room felt cold. Its ceiling was white, and she realized she didn¡¯t know where she was. Why wasn¡¯t her left eye opening? She blinked her left eye a couple times, then heard shuffling. She turned over and saw a woman with the head of a bull. Bullhead was leaned over a worktable. She wore bloodstained jeans, which matched uncomfortably with his bloodstained apron. ¡°Where am I?¡± the Angel of Death asked. Bullhead turned around, smiling when she saw her. ¡°You¡¯re awake.¡± ¡°Am I dead?¡± ¡°No,¡± she said, moving closer to her. ¡°Far from it. Or maybe you¡¯re close. I¡¯m not too sure how being an An--¡± ¡°Where am I?¡± Bullhead looked at her, a white birthmark framing her eyes. It was in the shape of the number eight, or infinity. It looped around one eye, crossed around her nose, then looped around the other one. ¡°You look wonderful,¡± she said, moving a hand towards her face. She smacked Bullhead¡¯s hand away, and Bullhead felt sorry. ¡°Where. Am. I,¡± the Angel of Death asked. ¡°Your friend,¡± Bullhead said. ¡°The one who can¡¯t speak. He brought you here.¡± ¡°And you trusted the toothless man carrying the winged woman?¡± ¡°The Kaleidoscopic Angel told me it would go something like this.¡± ¡°You know,¡± she said, ¡°you have an awful habit of not answering this simple fucking question.¡± He looked around, confused. ¡°Which is?¡± ¡°Where am I?¡± ¡°Right. Sorry. You¡¯re in my lab. I was hoping you¡¯d wake up before--¡± Bored by Bullhead¡¯s inability to give up any interesting information, the Angel of Death decided to explore her eye further. She placed her hand up to it. Then, she screamed. ¡°Don¡¯t--¡± ¡°My eye,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s--¡± ¡°Gone.¡± ¡°It¡¯s metal!¡± she yelled. ¡°What have you--¡± ¡°Your eye was permanently unusable, so I replaced it with something better,¡± Bullhead said, looking rather proud of herself. ¡°I think you¡¯ll like it, but I wanted to make sure you were acclimated to your surroundings before turning it on.¡± She raised her hand to flick the Angel of Death, before saying, ¡°May I?¡± With a sigh, the Angel of Death said, ¡°Go ahead.¡± Bullhead flicked her temple, and suddenly the Angel of Death could see again. Red light poured out of her. The red light was her eye. ¡°You came in here bleeding profusely, so you needed a replacement. It¡¯s an improvement, if I don¡¯t say so myself.¡± She pressed at the side of her temple. With each tap she saw things differently: infrared, x-ray, normal vision, microscopic vision. It seemed there was nothing she couldn¡¯t see. ¡°This is¡­ something.¡± ¡°We really have to be going.¡± ¡°Why?¡± the Angel of Death asked. ¡°Where do we have to be going?¡± ¡°It¡¯s better if you see it,¡± Bullhead explained, though that really wasn¡¯t much of an explanation at all. The Angel of Death leaned up from the table, head spinning with all this new information. She¡¯d seen the future, she¡¯d seen a new Angel of Death, she¡¯d had to become a new Angel of Death. It was all so much to take in, so quickly. But she could do it, of course. For she was the Angel of Death, and she¡¯d seen many a tragedy. She swung her legs off the table, bare feet hitting the cold tile of Bullhead¡¯s lab. She stood up, unfurling her metal wings. She did a double take, blinking. Her wings were metal now. ¡°Right, sorry,¡± Bullhead said. ¡°I forgot to tell you. Your wings were also permanently damaged.¡± A piece of the Angel hated the wings. It felt like she¡¯d been violated. Someone had removed her wings, without her permission. That said, they had been broken, and these looked so nice. ¡°You do know I can rip out your soul, right?¡± the Angel of Death asked. ¡°Removing your wings was a life-saving operation,¡± Bullhead said. ¡°You were out cold, so I couldn¡¯t ask if you wanted them replaced. But I figured you would want them replaced, and your speechless friend seemed to agree.¡± ¡°You could understand Val?¡± the Angel of Death said, a bit of surprise tinting her voice. ¡°He punched me when he seemed dissatisfied with what I was doing,¡± Bullhead said. ¡°And what were you doing that dissatisfied him?¡± the Angel of Death asked, willing her metal wing to bend towards her, so that she could touch it with her hand. It was hard, but pliable. Sharp, but beautiful. Truth be told, she loved these wings. ¡°I was going to paint these wings.¡± The Angel of Death couldn¡¯t help but crack a smirk. ¡°That¡¯s my Val. Where is he?¡± ¡°It¡¯s all somewhat complicated,¡± Bullhead explained. ¡°Where is he?¡± the Angel of Death asked. ¡°He¡¯s fine,¡± Bullhead explained, ¡°at a theater, of his own volition. It¡¯s just complicated to explain because of the technology involved. Would you walk with me?¡± The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. The Angel of Death glowered at Bullhead, ready for all sorts of treachery. In this world, they had the sort of weaponry that could kill an Angel of Death. That changed her paradigm -- made it so that she needed to be more careful about these things. But still, Bullhead seemed so innocent. The Angel of Death stood up. ¡°Lead the way,¡± the Angel of Death said. Bullhead led the way out of her lab and into a long white hallway, blabbering. ¡°I really am very appreciative about what you and your friends have done, and also what they¡¯re going to do. This whole thing¡¯s my fault, and I feel rather awful about it.¡± ¡°Haven¡¯t a clue what you¡¯re talking about,¡± the Angel of Death said. ¡°My name¡¯s Lu-Ann,¡± Bullhead explained. ¡°I¡¯m the scientist who messed up the timeline using a time machine, and I wanted to make up for all the pain I¡¯ve caused you.¡± ¡°You¡¯re the one who¡¯s responsible for the apocalypse?¡± ¡°Not really,¡± Lu-Ann said, ¡°though in a sense, I might be responsible for two. I try not to think about it too much, these days.¡± ¡°Okay,¡± the Angel of Death said, annoyed. They finished walking down the hallway and began walking up a flight of stairs. ¡°Anyway,¡± Lu-Ann said. ¡°I¡¯m so appreciative of what you, Val, and George did for this world. So I made sure to bring you guys here, where you would be safe. ¡°You were responsible for the apocalypse?¡± ¡°I tried helping the god who fixed everything. I sent a robot back in time, and he did a lot, but he malfunctioned a bit, and¡­ Well, I¡¯m sorry about your son.¡± The Angel of Death stopped before the doors, brimming with rage. ¡°Are you the one responsible?¡± --- I woke up. Felt odd. Skin tingling. I looked up and found lights shining down on me. No, that¡¯s not it. The lights became me. Beams of light sprang from the top of my hands, my arms, my whole body. Out in the distance in front of me, I saw more lights. I wondered if they became me, too. ¡°I¡¯m alive,¡± I said. My name was George. I was alive. A smile spread across my face. I couldn¡¯t help myself, looking at my body. It was my body. Not the elf¡¯s body, not a pile of bones. Gods be damned, I was alive. A whimpering to my left. I turned around and saw Val. He looked odd: most of his teeth were gone. He cried. ¡°Val,¡± I said, my voice wavering. He raised his hand, put it through me. I couldn¡¯t feel a thing. He mumbled -- my name, perhaps. I almost asked him what had happened, but then I realized it didn¡¯t matter. ¡°George,¡± a voice said, off in the dark distance, where I couldn¡¯t see its origin. Still, it was utterly recognizable -- the Angel of Death¡¯s. ¡°You¡¯re not long for this world. I looked down on the stage floor. I was on a stage, which seemed odd. The Angel of Death flew towards me. Great metal wings filled the theater. Her red eye glowed. ¡°Not long for this world,¡± I muttered, repeating it, not fully believing it. I¡¯d been here for such a short time. How could I be leaving? There didn¡¯t seem to be much sense to it, which meant I couldn¡¯t drum up much emotion about it. ¡°You died long ago, in the apocalypse. Do you remember it?¡± Her left hand dripped blood -- not hers, either. ¡°Apocalypse.¡± Of course I remembered. The breaking of the Celestial Wall, the holy light pouring over me, burning my flesh, taking my bits and using them to create a whole new universe: a hard thing to forget. ¡°Yes, I remember.¡± ¡°Some machine recreated your brain, based off of everything you know. But you¡¯re not long for this world, George.¡± Val wailed even more. His shouts were coarse -- animalistic. He must¡¯ve gone through a lot since the last time I¡¯d seen him. ¡°That¡¯s alright,¡± I said. Something felt strange. It didn¡¯t matter how long I was for this world. After all, wasn¡¯t I already dead? I couldn¡¯t remember what it¡¯d been like -- death. But then again, maybe I wasn¡¯t George. She said I was just an approximation of the brain. I had the memories, though. They were terrible. Grotesque. Sad. My life had been sad. I wondered if the afterlife would be kinder. Or maybe there wasn¡¯t an afterlife. Maybe we came back again and again, reborn time after time. The Angel of Death looked sad, but content. I felt the same way. What was there to fear of death, if we didn¡¯t understand it? Didn¡¯t life have more known threats then death? Val kept wailing. I felt myself beginning to flicker out of existence. I was dying, but that was the way it should be. That was the way of the world. --- Hope you enjoyed the story! If you did, please consider checking out my other work. Pixel Courage is a LitRPG, with those philosophical vibes I couldn''t shake even if I tried, haha. If you''d prefer something atypical, check out A Bad Idea, a super villainous black comedy that''s hosted on my own site, MEGAPULP. Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed!