***The Crystal City***

***Ascathon***

I don’t have much time to think before Tjenemit and a group of nine guards arrive at the junction. Sporting his usual trim attire, Tjenemit looks all like a leader while the guards in their blue uniforms follow him like cute, little puppies.

Just as expected, the Council member doesn’t look pleased as his eyes sweep over the dissolving mess on the floor and my shredded arm. “What happened here? I thought I told you not to leave the room!”

“Yes,” I reply. “But there was this whole alarm thing going on, and I at least wanted to know whether I should make a run for it. No sense in dying for nothing if I just could have evacuated with everyone else. Then I heard noises from around the corner and, you know my curiosity, I just had to check.”

I pat onto my chest, trying to look innocent. “And who would have thought, there is this black, inky thing that could have come straight out of some bad horror movie, throwing itself at me. Of course, I had to defend myself, even ripped its arm off. But it kept coming.

“And colour me surprised when it struck straight through my aura as if it wasn’t there. Almost took off my arm with its claws, see?” I hold up the healing arm which still shows signs of injury. “That pissed me off, so I took it apart.” I gesture at the floor. “Maybe we should bottle it up? Before it completely dissolves, whatever that stuff is.”

Producing a vial from my pocket, I scoop up some of the goop and seal the vial with a stopper. “It’s just good that as someone who thinks of himself as a scientist I always carry something to gather materials. One never knows when such things come in handy.”

Tjenemit plucks the vial out of my fingers. “I will be taking that, thank you very much.”

Thief! That’s mine! I took it! Mine!

But judging by his sour expression, I may be better advised to keep my mouth shut, so I forcefully suppress the instinct to jump him in order to exact righteous revenge for this blatant theft. “Of course. You may want to know that there was a second one of the things down that way.” I point out the corridor in which the other monstrosity vanished. “It seemed like it wasn’t very keen on sharing the fate of its buddy. If I may suggest to hunt that thing down before it attacks another innocent passerby.”

Tjenemit’s eyes narrow and his expression loses all humour, if it can even be said that he had some to begin with. “You said something about noises? What was the creature doing to draw your attention? Or was it simply making noise for the sake of it?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. I didn’t see anyone when I arrived. But now that you mention it, it sounded like it was fighting somebody.”

Seria and her companions must have more than enough of a head-start by now, so it’s best to cover my own ass by being at least partially truthful. “It seems kind of obvious that there must have been someone who stumbled upon the creature before me. Unless it was deranged enough to be fighting with itself. It didn’t strike me as the most intelligent of beasts.”

“Enough! You have cost us enough time!” He turns around, indicating two of his man. “You two, check out the corridor that leads to the service tunnels. The rest, go and check the restricted area for this second creature.” Turning back to me, he steps in close. “If I find any indication that you were intentionally stalling for time by dishing out useless details, I’ll-”

“Sorry!” Raising both hands a little too quickly, I splatter a few droplets of blood onto his perfect robe which is embroidered with countless symbols and fine artwork, showing off his wealth and power. It isn’t as if any god would have problems getting himself an expensive outfit, but only very few actually go so far as to flaunt their wealth like that. “You see, I was never that keen on any form of military service for exactly that reason. I am simply unable to give proper reports if I am high on adrenaline! It has nothing to do with you or any kind of ill will towards my superiors!”

Instead of answering, Tjenemit looks down at the splatters of blood on his fine outfit.

“Ah, sorry. Just send me the bill,” I add hastily. Damn. As far as Council members go, Tjenemit is the calmest of them, but I am quickly using up all the composure he seems to have left.

Thankfully, that’s when we get interrupted by screams from down the corridor where the bulk of Tjenemit’s guards went in search of the monster.

Cursing, Tjenemit cuts reprimanding me short and follows the screams as quickly as possible without running. “Come. I may use you as a meatshield to make up for your incompetence!”

I don’t reply, following the Council member like a cute little puppy.

What we find around the corner and through a door that leads into something like an intelligence service’s office isn’t exactly pretty. Several of the glass walls which separate various working areas are broken and paper is strewn all over the floor. In the heat of battle, a large part of the office was already destroyed.

The seven remaining guards who Tjenemit sent in order to deal with the monster found their prey, but it seems like they are unable to subdue it.

One guard is lying on the floor with blood bubbling up from between his lips. The monster cleaved his chest open and exposed his innards for all the world to take a look. A second one is trying to stop the bleeding from a severed foot.

The remaining five have the creature driven against a wall, circling it in a half-circle. But that’s as much as they achieved, as none of them is really willing to close the distance and take on the thing.

It’s the first time that I get to take a really good look at the thing without being in mortal combat. The thing seems to consist as much of an inky substance, as of physical shadows. What makes it hard to describe apart from its general humanoid form and some distinct features are the writhing movements between its flesh and the permanent state of dissolving and recreation the thing seems to be caught in. The overall result is that the creature’s outer edges seem to constantly blur and sharpen in unpredictable patterns.

“What are you doing?” Tjenemit barks. “Just kill the cursed thing!”

“It’s immune to magic, Sir!” One of the men calls out, using a conjured sword to slice a piece off the monster as it tries to strike out in order to maul another man. A third guard casts a ball of energy which hits the monster, but the spell seems like nothing more than a light-show on the creature’s skin as the energy dissolves without effect.

Sensing an opening, the creature jumps forward, breaking the circle of guards. It barrels into one of the men, throwing him onto his back and laying into him with its claws. The guard’s aura pulses in an instinctive, defensive reaction and forces the other guards to step away.

“Multiverse! Save me from incompetent fools!” Tjenemit points a finger at the thing, casting a tiny spell formation. The spell matrix blazes into existence and channels a ray of pure energy through some kind of miniature gateway which makes it seem like a blaze of brilliant light erupts from his fingertip.

Shielding my eyes, I watch as the ray of light stabs through the creature’s chest. Tjenemit moves his finger upwards, splitting the creature from its chest up in two. Then his finger flicks here and there, dicing the thing to pieces within moments. Arms tumble to the ground and the torso falls away in pieces until there is nothing left to hold the legs together and they too fall away to the sides.

Impressed, I eye his fingertip, wishing that he hadn’t controlled the creation of his spell matrix so tightly. I would have wished to know the exact activation sequence he used to allow a powerful anti-shielding curse to hitch-hike a ride on a simple disintegration ray. Because that’s what he must have used to strike through the thing’s defences where his men failed.

It seems like I went a little overboard when I killed my own opponent. Good to know that the things aren’t truly immune to magic, and that effects which are designed to penetrate magical defences work.

That’s when a door in the room’s far left corner opens and none other than El Shaddai, leader of the Council, enters the room. “What’s going on in here?” He is clad in an unassuming grey tunic, but everyone would recognise the leader of the Council immediately. There are very few who are daring enough to try to copy his looks. The bald head and the metallic, golden skin are like a trademark.

I often wonder from where in the multiverse El Shaddai got his body. It could be that he is some form of elemental, like Willow. But nobody who saw Willow and El Shaddai next to each other would put them in the same category. Where Shaddai’s features are like a chiselled statue, Willow is much more organic with slight imperfections. The leader of the Council has none of those, making him seem more like a golem than a living being.

In an attempt to make myself as unnoticeable and inconsiderable as possible, I step slightly away and behind Tjenemit. Sure enough, Tjenemit steps forward to face El Shaddai, gaining his full attention.

“That’s what I wanted to ask you. How did these things get in here?” Tjenemit points at the diced remains of the monster.

El Shaddai looks at the dissolving remains of the creature. I don’t know if it’s just me, but the Council member doesn’t seem in the least surprised to find this thing inside one of his inner sanctums. Shouldn’t someone whose security was just broken be less concerned with the presence of another Council member, and more with the unnatural invader on the floor?

“I don’t know. I only know that someone broke the observation window while I was deep in trance, communing with the sphere.” He points out a shattered window at the wall. “While I was meditating I didn’t notice anything unusual. When I opened my eyes, I left the observation room because of the damage and found you here.”

My eyes narrow involuntarily at that. Which sphere? An observation room? Is this somehow connected to how the Council manages to find any deity who tries to escape their attention?

Sadly, that’s when Tjenemit remembers my presence. “I think you have been helpful enough.” Regally gesturing for his guards, he points towards the door. “Someone, see to it that he returns to Eris and finishes his work. Don’t leave him without supervision. Once he is done, make sure that he leaves the facility without further ado.”

While the others take care of their wounded comrades, one of the uninjured men steps forward eagerly, sensing the chance to extract himself from his superior’s presence.

I don’t challenge his wisdom in this course of action. Nodding at Tjenemit, I turn around and leave without saying a word. Then I head back to Eris’s sickroom while the guard follows me dutifully.

This gives me time to have a few thoughts about what I just experienced. The fact that there are strange creatures roaming the Council’s facilities. That some Council members know nothing about these things, while others seem to be in the know. What about the sphere and this room which seemed like an intelligence service?

It paints a currently incomprehensible picture. Up until now, I was under the impression that the Council is on the same course for most of their policies, but apparently, that’s not the case.

We arrive back at Eris's sickroom and I spend the rest of the day with repairing what's possible to repair and rebuilding the rest in hope that she would at least end up as a functioning person. Tampering with a human mind isn't so easy and I end up guessing more often than not at which part belongs where.

Finally, I finish my work with the trepidation that Eris will always be a little unhinged.

Tired and worn out, I allow the guard to escort me outside the facility where fate decides to continue playing more games with me.

As soon as I set my foot outside the door, a flash of light envelops me, the world enchantment doing its work.

I appear in something like a large, damp cellar with over a dozen men and women in black robes chanting in some sort of ritual. What seems to be their leader is waving his hands in the air, trying to control the magic which is channelled from his followers through him and into the summoning circle beneath my feet. They all have hoods over their heads, hiding their faces.

At this point, I can't even muster the effort to be surprised.

Tired of it all, I allow my eyes to wander through the room until I notice that the summoning circle was drawn with blood and that there are bodies of various ages dumped in a corner. It speaks to my tiredness that I am neither appalled by the summoning method, nor by the gruesome death cult who managed the feat.

Tilting my head upwards, I let out a groan. “Why do I always get the maniacs?” I ask the ceiling.

Of course, there is no answer. A god has it tough when calling upon higher powers.

“Heed my command!” The cult-leader points a finger at me. “Grant us eternal life!”

As he pours more power into the circle, I feel a slight tingle in the back of my head which causes me to give the circle a little more attention. Sure enough, it isn't just a mere conglomeration of useless symbols. This is definitely an attempt at influencing the target inside the circle against its will.

“Why isn't he saying anything?” one of the followers asks.

“Maybe we did something wrong? What if he isn't bound by the commandments?” another one voices his own doubt. At that, the crowd behind the leader starts stirring. If they heard about my reputation, then some of them surely can imagine what fate has in store for them.

Sensing the growing panic, the leader raises his hand and gestures towards a cage which eluded my attention up until now. “Get another blood sacrifice. We may need more power to influence the god.”

One of the sect-members starts towards the cage which contains a sobbing woman with a child in her arms.

“I will grant your wish,” I announce, maybe a little too theatrical. But I am just too pissed off at this point. I am tired, my head hurts, I had to do as I was told the entire day, and now this stupid world enchantment whisks me away to who knows where into one of the most unpleasant environments I can imagine.

At least my reverberating voice had the intended effect, causing complete silence within the room and drawing the full attention of all the cultists.

Gesturing for the leader, I point in front of me on the floor. “Come here and kneel down, so that I may enlighten you on my path.”

Almost eagerly, the man with the red hood comes forward and falls to his knees. Now that he is close I can even see most of his face, not that I care about some guy's mug.

“Open your mouth and hold out your tongue,” I incant in a religious manner.

The man turns around to look at his followers, but his greed is stronger than his surprise about the strange command. Facing me, he opens his mouth and stretches out his tongue.

Reaching out quickly, I grab the large muscle and rip it out of his throat.

The natural result is a lot of screaming, followed by gurgling as the man drowns in his own blood due to the improperly executed amputation. Next, I teleport to the man at the cage and rip a metal bar out of the prison.

While the crowd is still stunned, I swing the improvised weapon with enough force to make it swish through the air with a rather nice tone.

The cultist's jaw disintegrates in a spray of blood and bone.

Then the hunt is on as I chase screaming cultists through the cellar, breaking bones and heads while taking great care in holding back my strength. After all, I want at least some of them to remember this.

While bashing in a woman's head, I notice that some are trying to get out through a heavy, locked door. So I choose them as my next targets, laughing about their stupidity as I rush towards them. Who locks himself inside a room with a monster?

At some point in my hunt, I start humming, being reminded of playing chase with my friends during another reincarnation. It was a good one, but my parents from back then never liked it when we were playing that particular game. Suddenly, I remember parts of the song which was always sung while the game was played.

“Schwere Schritte auf den Stufen.

Niemand hört uns, wenn wir rufen!

Niemand hört uns, wenn wir schreien!

...

Wer hat Angst vor'm schwarzen Mann?

...

Wer hat Angst vor'm schwarzen Mann?

Lässt du nachts die Lichter an?

Und wenn er kommt, was tust du dann?

Dann laufen wir, laufen wir davon!

...

Wer hat Angst vor'm schwarzen Mann?

Lass ihn niemals an dich ran!

Doch wenn er kommt, was tun wir dann?

Dann laufen wir, laufen wir davon!

Lauf, lauf, lauf!

Davon!

Lauf, lauf, lauf!

Davon!”

Slowly, their screams wane as their numbers dwindle. Accordingly, my ire slowly subsides until I am the only one left standing.

Huffing and puffing, I overlook the carnage until I notice that someone is watching me.

Myrm is standing next to the cage with the sobbing woman and her child. Very slowly, without saying a word, he turns his head from left to right, inspecting the massacre. I can only imagine how I must have looked like chasing the cultists while humming a tune.

“What the ever loving shit are you doing?” he whispers.

I drop the metal bar and try to correct my attire. Not that it matters, with blood and pieces of brain all over it. “Nothing much. They tried to force me to do stuff with a poorly executed blood-ritual. I didn't consent and decided to blow off some steam with the good old methods.”

Walking over to the cultist leader who is writhing on the floor while holding his throat, I pick him up and cast a healing spell on him. “I'll take this one, you can have the rest.”

Waving at Myrm, I take a pathway, pulling the cultist with me before the deity can complain. I still have a grudge with him, but now is neither the time nor the place for petty revenge.

The captured 'treat' and I appear on the central corridor in my secret base, where I drop the man like the piece of trash he is.

“Finally!” I sigh. “Home sweet home.”

Turning, I walk towards my private quarters, waving at passing succubus. “Dia? Diana! That's you right?”

“Yes, my lord. Today all bloody? I like the style!” Raising a hand, she starts nibbling on her thumb in anticipation. Then the grey-skinned and barely dressed beauty nods eagerly. “It's like in the good old days when you came back to the castle after another conquest. Should we have some fun?”

“Not right now. I am too tired.”

“Aw...” she pouts.

Pointing back, I indicate the cultist who is looking around with wild eyes, trying to get his bearings after the miraculous healing.

“Say, Diana. You are up for some rough stuff, right?” I ask.

“Surrree,” she purrs. “All of us are trained for all kinds of experiences. You know that.”

“Good! That guy was a really bad boy and deserves some punishment. You can have him, including his soul. Just make sure that he doesn't die too early, or the world enchantment will fuck with me again,” I explain, already eager for sleep.

“You are too nice! To give me a personal present!” Not waiting for another second, she step-dances towards the cultist and pounces like a cat onto her prey.

Too tired to care, I saunter off to my rooms to wash and head for my bed where I am soon joined by my purring pet. The ghost cat's paws wander slowly over my body until it reaches its preferred spot. It circles once on top of my chest before it settles down for sleep. And then I am out like a light.