“Alright, so, here’s the scoop,” Grotto said, leading Snooze to a blank patch of barren black rock and slinging an arm over her shoulder. The woman was quite a bit taller than Snooze, so this required her to stoop comically. She waved her hand out before her and cleared her throat.

“This,” she said, turning to look Snooze directly in the eyes, “is a great spot to begin.”

Snooze looked around. They had walked a good distance away from both the world simulacrum and the Book of Leaf, and she wasn’t quite sure she’d been to this precise section of her plane before. It was pressed back into the darkness of the void a bit more, with the vague illumination from somewhere beyond that kept things dimmer than her usual area of voyeuristic integrity.

“What’s special about this spot?” Snooze asked.

Grotto looked up at her, a little confused.

“Oh, Snooze,” she said with a goofy shake of the head. “It’s not about the area here, it is what it represents in context to everything else. You’ve already made a planet, but it works a little differently when making an Afterlife.”

“How so?”

“Well, it’ll make sense in a moment. For starters: you need to actively select an Archetype for your Afterlife, and build a framework off of that. Here, let me show you.”

Grotto spun in place and with a dramatic flourish stuck her hand out in front of her, and a dazzling display of sparkling magical energy bubbled down.

“Summon Scroll!” Grotto exclaimed and suddenly, the magical energy began reversing direction, floating up and away from the ground and gathered above Grotto’s open palm. It began to take the shape of several squiggly lines that wriggled through the air in an animation that Snooze would have described as ‘quaint.’ The motion eventually halted and the squiggles settled, and suddenly, the QUACK was holding a flowing blue orb.

“Snooze, meet the Scroll of Currents,” Grotto said, beaming at the little god. “My personal companion, and a pretty dazzling display of artisanal godliness, if I do say so myself.”

Snooze smiled. It was nice to see other gods that valued their companions as much as she did, even if she liked to pretend she didn’t.

“Pleased to meet you, Scroll of Currents,” Snooze offered.

“Well, you’re a polite one indeed!” a voice suddenly exclaimed happily. Snooze took a step back. It had a strong drawl, reminding her of old cowboy movies, and it caused her to freeze from shock.

A companion… that could talk?

Undeterred, the blue ball of energy continued speaking.

“Goodness, what do we have here? A godplane. Interesting. Bit of a drab locale, but that can be fixed up right quickly, I do imagine! Let’s see here, got ourselves a bit of a fix’er up project, but I don’t mind that especially so. It’ll be a hoot. I take it you’re the proprietor of this fine slice of the cosmos?”

Grotto continued beaming at Snooze.

“Pretty quaint, right?”

“How can the Scroll talk?” Snooze asked, still enraptured by the turn of events.

“I’ll field that one!” The Scroll of Currents exclaimed. “I chose to do so. It’s as simple as all that. All the God Life Companions can speak if’n they so desire--and are high enough level. You bear the Book of Leaf, and I know for a fact that they’re a regular chatty Cathy.”

“Book of Leaf is a motormouth...?” Snooze wondered aloud. It made sense, she supposed, considering that when Book had been planet-side it had been able to speak. Though, wasn’t the claim that it was because of Meat…?

Snooze would have to look into this matter further when she had more time.

“So, alright…” she began. “Are you here to help me with an Afterlife?”

The blue orb chirped happily--reminding her of Meat-- and then spoke again.

“I am indeed, little lady,” Scroll explained. “I’m a bonafide, genu-wine expert in all manner of Afterlife construction, destruction, placement and consolidation. Why, me an’ ole Grotto here have thatched together near a thousand Afterlifes in our time together. Really bonds a pair, Afterlifin’ does.”

“Perfect!” Snooze exclaimed. “That’s exactly what I need. I think.”

“You ain’t wrong. It’s powerful ugly business at times, a creature of tedium and time constraint. Not for the faint of heart be it. It’ll stretch your creativity and patience til it’s thinner than strand of snake beard.”

“Could you, um, maybe sell it a bit better?” Snooze asked. “I am not famous for my proactive concentration.”

“Ah, that’s true enough,” the Scroll of Currents said. “Yet you are famous, don’t think I haven’t heard of your magnificent exploits. I am chuffed to be able to assist you in any endeavor in which I am able to flex my abilities thusly.”

“Okay, well, let’s get started, I suppose,” Snooze said, looking to Grotto. “When you said you were going to give me advice, I didn’t know you’d be outsourcing it.”

Grotto chuckled.

“Why, Snooze,” she stated. “The Scroll of Currents is my advice. My advice device if you will. There’s nothing better to attend to your very first and tutorial maiden voyage into the world of Afterlifecraft than a being that has done so a nauseatingly prodigious amount of times.”

Snooze smiled, and realized it was because, for quite some time now, she’d been feeling a creeping sense of loneliness. However, between Book, Meat, Grotto and now Scroll, she was starting to feel a little better, and more aligned to her usual self. She even reasoned that Odd made things a bit interesting, and having access to speak with Riff--well, she was learning that her friendships had begun to pile up. It wasn’t a bad feeling at all.

“Okay, so what’s the first step?” Snooze asked.

She could not, under any circumstances imagine how something could break her out of this feeling of elation.

[ ELSEWHERE… ]

“I want to first and foremost acknowledge that the work that was carried out this season on the New Project was profound. We involved the administration and directors in the process of reviewing and refining as we went forward and because of that, the end result was of quality make. This project has been marvelous to navigate, and I want to extend my greatest compliments to those involved and their fortitude in provisioning timely results. Kudos to all.”

There was a polite--but not too polite--amount of soft clapping as the words were uttered.

A boardroom table that was vast to the point of impracticality struck down the center of an even more massive chamber filled with blue-white light, its polished top stretched into the recesses of where darkness might be if the light was of a normal make. All along the sides were myriad beings that sat or stood or hovered above and below the sides in a confederacy of important say-nothings. They would murmur or nod or harumph in quiet approval through the whole gathering as they waited for the next person to speak.

At the table’s head was the creature that had just finished speaking. He was something of an amorphous blob, if one could describe an amorphous blob as gaseous in nature. It was much like a swirling culmination of cumulonimbus clouds made of gelatin, shifting constantly, and whose voice emerged in a smooth timbre from somewhere within its depths.

This was Y Y, Upper Director of the Fade, and a fortunate beast that considered himself as a being with quite the managerial flair. Y Y had been in his position for the last two hundred years, and was on target for a promotion in the next century--which, if it was to be believed, was extremely above-grade and showed that the Upper Crust saw the creature’s potential. Y Y was of the proud variety, and rarely sought the opinions of those beneath him, nor those on a more lateral stride, save for moments like these: the boardroom.

Y Y loved the boardroom. In his mind it was the great equalizer--at least in so much that Y Y was equal to none and his opinion was most premiere above all others.

It was a silly game they played in the Fade. Those board members would argue and dispute and carve needlessly cruel and pointed barbs into one another with a verbal voracity that would be mortally wounding to… well, mortals, but in the end, they all voted the way that Y Y wanted them to. At least for important matters. Many issues the creature believed beneath him, and as such, pawned it off to his most diligent subordinate.

“Reufuedueuonk?” Y Y said, shifting his gelatinous cloud to one side and indicating what appeared to be a blank plank of neon purple stone roughly seven feet in height and eight inches wide. It was essentially a plinth of glowing amethyst that twinkled, increasing in the ferocity as it began to speak.

“Please refer to the data I have provided,” the creature said, and the voice that tumbled out was softer than one might think a solid slate of Yabberstone would have, and a pace of speaking that could be best described as ‘plodding.’

“If you look at the higher risk and then the lower risk, neither have changed in the last few millennia, and that influences us heavily. As was recommended by the six signatories of the amendment to the Resolution, the board should come to an agreement on what we communicate into the Enclave, and what we communicate out. If you’ll all read the document set before you, Resolution four-one-six-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-eight-one-zero-eight, dash, seven-point six-five, specifies that the perimeter for the new chambers located on Area D, Section Six, Slice Four-hundred-thirty must be modified to allow for the movement of the organics acquired. The projection is increasing the ndimension of the size by three delta-iotas.”

There was a murmur of contempt, with words like “organics,” and “meatsacks” thrown around, but eventually it quieted.

“We require a motion for the Resolution,” purred the purple plinth.

“I’ll make it,” a feminine-presenting wispy slip of sentient smoke said in a husky voice.

“We have a motion from Galtagrula the Eviscerator, do we have a second?” said Reufuedueuonk.

“Seconded,” called another voice from deep along the thick.

“Seconded by... Robby,” confirmed the plinth. “All in favor?”

There was a rumbling cacophony of ‘aye’s from around the massive boardroom table.

“All opposed?”

At the other end of the table was a single, “nay!”

“The ayes have it.”

There was a loud knocking sound from somewhere and the issue was settled.

“Motion carried on Resolution four-one-six-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-zero-eight-one-zero-eight, dash, seven-point six-five in relation to the perimeter modifications of Area D, Section Six, Slice Four-hundred-thirty chambers.”

“Now,” Y Y said, and the whole of the room quieted. “On to our final order of business for the meeting…”

“The rogue,” the purple plinth said.

This caused quite the stirring hullabaloo amongst those sidled up to the table. It was apparent that this issue was one most contentious.

“We are carrying quite a bit of loose flesh on this, Upper Director,” said Galtagrula the Eviscerator. “We are eating two sides of a plate for funding, and we are butting up against the DPA almost at every turn. This could reach an uncomfortable and disagreeable end.”

“If we need to align better with the Department of Public Authority, then we will do so, though we must decide if we adhere to that expectation every time,” a big, fat, blue lizard-like being mused. “Most of the districts around us have been holding that expectation, and as we heard from Magister Elork, the piece that increases the desire to consider this more cohesive collaboration are the explicit examples that have come directly from the Orders above.”

A creature that looked very much like a human man but with a smooth featureless face sighed, and opened their palms. Wedged into the flesh of each hand were mouths.

“The reality is that we’ve learned from sources outside of our own department what the rogue is up to, and whatever they are engaged in, it’s a growing concern.”

“That reality has really increased in the last few cycles. We know things now that we didn’t know even yestercycle,” said the lizard.

“I’d disagree, only slightly--with respect, of course, to the venerable Biro,” said one of the mouths.

The corpulent lizard nodded, holding up a placating hand as if to suggest that it was no issue at all.

“We are seeing an increase in our information, but there is still so much that we do not yet know, and we may need to consider the scenario that because of the magnitude of this event, it is possible the information we believe we have acquired might be only partially accurate--”

“...OR WRONG ALL TOGETHER!” shouted a tiny creature with a voice so low it sounded like thunder.

“Enough,” Y Y said, his swirling vortex of a body converting into storm clouds. “We will proceed as planned. No changes. If the Defartment of Pubic Deplority wants to share causality on this, they will need to bring more to the table. I’ll speak to Ch’Uulaagosh 9 this afternoon and sort that particular miscommunication out.”

There were no objections to Y Y’s demands, and so, the meeting was adjourned.

When everyone had vacated except for the two of them, Reufuedueuonk approached Y Y.

“The Lower Director asked about you, sir,” the plinth drolled. “Seemed important.”

“Everything is important to the Lower Director,” Y Y responded. “She can wait.”

“Perhaps she is suspicious?”

“She’s got a good nose for a bureaucratic deity, that’s for sure. But, we won’t worry about her just yet. I have no concerns at the moment.”

“As you say, sir,” Reufuedueuonk said. “Then, should we initiate it?”

Y Y seemed to ruminate on this for a moment before the clouds of gelatin seemed to relax, turning back into the soft and fluffy nature they were when the Upper Director was in a good mood.

“Sure,” he said. “Initiate. Get rid of them all.”