“So,” I asked, cigar in hand. “How would you like to be my secretary?”

I was sitting in my office, looking out of the glass wall. The monochrome city was beginning to come to life, even after only two days. Alas, it was still a work in progress.

It wasn’t quite as trap-riddled as the first floor was, but it was still a dubious proposition for our old and weak. Hence, most of the people here were young and adventurous, scouting out the area so it could be safely used as a residential zone. It would be a damn shame for the city to be infested with shadow demons or some shit.

“Who died and made you king?” asked the blondie, who was sitting on the couch facing my desk.

I laughed. “The whole world, sweetie, weren’t you paying attention? Someones got to lead this operation, and if you can find someone better, be my guest. I’d be happy to relinquish my position.”

No, I wouldn’t.

“Please,” she scoffed, readjusting her glasses. “We all know that we need your knowledge, and that you're going to abuse the fuck out of it..”

I raised my hands in exasperation. “Then why ask in the first place?”

“To see how you reacted.”

Women. “Did I pass your test?”

“Do you care?”

“No. You going to take the job or not?”

She sighed, looking to her clipboard, which was presumably glued to her hands. “Someone’s got to run the numbers. Food, water, housing, production, amenities...I can handle it. Assuming, of course, that’s what the job entails, and not just looking pretty.”

I smiled, my reflection visible in the glass. “If that was all, then I’d do it myself.”

“Uh-huh. On that note, I’ve got a question.”

“Hhmm?”

“Why are you still staring out the window? I'd appreciate it if you looked at me while we talk.”

I turned around, meeting the eyes of a rather exasperated-looking woman. “What, you don’t think I look imposing?”

Now the eyes were...almost sad. “You just look like an asshole. An old, pallid, wrinkly asshole.”

That hurt. “I’m in my 40’s! These are my golden years!”

She just sighed. “Sure. Now that we see eye to eye, we need to talk personnel”

I took a seat, defeated, while she flipped the page on the notebook, clearing her throat.

“The school is coming along rather nicely, as it's giving native English speakers something to do. Walther is doing well in the role, and is content with it. John is currently acting as head of security, and is organizing a militia to defend our walls and search for survivors.”

I blew smoke. Good, good. It was nice to have people on the ball.

“Bertha’s in charge of the food. She’s managed to gather a sizable gaggle of moms to handle enough food for everybody, though it's been mostly gruel and soups due to the sheer amount of people they need to feed. As far as medical goes, we have a handful of people with applicable skills, nurses, vets, and even a surgeon.”

I’d have to meet that guy. “What’s his name?”

“Salvador. He’s Italian, but bilingual. Considering the number of people we’ve brought in crushed by rubble or mauled by monsters, the team is doing an incredible job, though there have been deaths.”

Yeah, no shit. I’d need to check on him, vet his personality. “It sounds like we have a pretty good thing going. What’s the catch?”

She flipped another page. What was she even writing? Reminders? “With you spending all your time ‘studying the intricacies of magic’, we need someone to handle the...people problems. Lots of dumbasses are fighting for resources, housing, and just in general. Nobody can agree on where they want to live, or the supplies they are rationed. Some are leaving, hoping to find their families, and others are having mental breakdowns and/or causing problems.”

Ah, people, the biggest wrenches in any plan. “So, we need someone to manage the masses, right?”

At that very moment, my beautiful hardwood doors slammed open, and in walked Bradley, looking rather haggard.

Blondie and I shared a pained look, and I knew then that we were truly on the same wavelength.

“James!” He yelled. “Something has to be done!”

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll speak to John and see if we can’t organize a peacekeeping force for you. For now, you’re just going to have to deal with it yourself as best you can.”

Bradley looked back and forth between blondie and me, confused. “I...What?”

I smiled knowingly. “You want to take on some responsibility, right? I applaud that go-getter attitude. So, yes. You have my permission.”

Many emotions ran across his rapidly twitching face. I could tell he wanted to jab at me being able to give him permission in the first place, and bitch about my attitude. But mostly he was just confused.

“...Why are you being so helpful?” He finally asked.

Oh this kid was adorable. Like a younger, dumber me. Then again, we’re all dumb at that age. “I get it. You want to be a leader, right? Have people look up to you? Be able to give orders?”

Bradley’s expression was so twisted I couldn’t even identify it anymore.“I just want to help out around here."

I leaned forward, clenching my hands together. “Do your best. I’ll let you know when I’ve gotten you the manpower.”

The young man didn’t notice the shadow slowly lowering from the ceiling, but Blondie did. She looked rather alarmed, and went to warn me. She then noticed the smirk on my face, and opted to bury her head in her notebook instead.

“Another question," said Bradley. "Why are you such an asshole?”

I shrugged. “Why don’t you turn around and find out?”

He raised an eyebrow, and glanced behind him before he had a chance to think about it. He found himself staring into bloodshot, red eyes, and a horrific Cheshire smile.

I suspect the people several stories below me assumed that we were testing an air-raid alarm. If only I had a phone, then the awful truth would have been recorded for all of eternity.

Instead, the only evidence was a suspicious trail of liquid on the staircase down from my office. Was it sweat? Piss? The world may never know.

Yukiko giggled cutely. “He jumped so high!”

“That he did,” I said, nodding sagely. “That he did.”

Blondie smiled weakly. “Hello, miss…?”

Yukiko spoke in English, though with a thick accent. “Hello, Sarah. I'm Yukiko”

Oh, so that was blondies name. Glad I didn’t have to ask.

“Hi...Yukiko. You’re pretty big.”

She just tilted her head in confusion, so I spoke up. “She doesn’t speak much English.”

“I figured as much. How did she know my name?”

I shrugged again. “She's been crawling on the ceiling or otherwise hiding, watching you guys pretty much this whole time.”

For once, her notebook was forgotten. “How?! We would have noticed her! She’s gotta be eight feet tall!”

“She is exactly eight feet tall, as it would happen. And the reason I know how and you don't is why I get the fancy chair.”

Sarah blinked, and realized she could no longer see Yukiko. “...That is so fucking creepy. Jesus Christ.”

"That's extremely rude."

She shook her head, staring at the spot where Yukiko was."...James, If there's anything I can compliment you on, it's your incredible ability to roll with the punches."

"I'm sure you can think of more than that, honey."

She stared into my eyes, frowning violently. Perhaps not.

A knock on the door saved me from whatever verbal abuse I was about to suffer. I recognized the faint wisp of a core on the other side.

“Come in, John.”

He entered, looking rather...sheepish. “Sir...there’s something you need to see.”

Oh boy.

John and I passed around dozens of my peons as we made our way out of the tower. Most of them ignored us, giving wide berths and occasional looks of pity due to my crutches and multitude of bandages.

It pissed me off, but they’d see me with fear and respect soon enough.

Still, it was nice that the place had some life. Most everybody moved with an express purpose, some hopeful, some determined, and others just trying to distract themselves from reality. There was no merit in an empire of dirt, so the people’s happiness was my happiness.

John was leading me to a familiar spot. The alleyway where I found my goal in life. Not to say I recognized the placein particular, more that the huge, now grey orc corpse hasn’t been disposed of yet. It smelled awful, but pretty much everything did around here, as the massive murder pile was also still largely untouched.

”We are going to need to take care of this eventually,” I remarked.

John snorted. “We? I doubt you’d be all that interested.”

I shuffled my crutches around in exasperation. “Oh but if only I could!”

”You mean to tell me that if you were hale and healthy, you’d pull up your pant-legs and dive right in with the rest of us?”

This is where I’d nod solemnly and say yes, but John’s a bit too important for me to bullshit him. “Nah. I’ve got more important things to do.”

“Like hoarding all the magic to yourself?” he snarked.

His tone is pissing me off, but not everybody can be a good little doggie like Goro, and never question me. I didn’t know this man well enough to pinpoint his concerns, so I’d have to weasel them out. Though I could certainly guess.

I’d have to save it for later, as we came upon the rest of his little posse, who were all standing in the puddle of dried orc blood, arguing amongst themselves.

”Dmitry, please! We can’t just blow up the portal to another dimension!” yelled a young man’s voice, squeaking with the exertion. He was wearing standard US army gear, with an m4 clutched in his hands. Despite the age and tone, he didn’t strike me as all that nervous. The kid had seen a fight or two.

The next man had a slight Russian accent, but spoke in near-perfect English. “I don’t see why not. Call it a premature threat removal.”

He was clearly not army. In fact, I’d take a wild guess and assume that he’s from the Russian ground forces, if the uniform and ak72 were any indicators. Funny world, this.

The third and final man spoke up. He was Army, black, and built like an angry truck. “That’s not our decision to make.”

The young man rage-spasmed like a child. “Then who’s the fuck is it?!”

”Mine,” I said, entering the scene as imposingly as I could on crutches. John followed shortly behind me.

Dmitry gave me a once-over. “Says who?”

”Me,” I said, smiling kindly. “Now, tell me why I'm here.”

The three men looked to each other, and then to John, who gave an unenthusiastic shrug and began to speak. “The...portal is fluctuating at random intervals. We decided to deal with it sooner rather than later, before it decides to shit out another horde of monsters.”

I nodded sagely. “An astounding demonstration of superior foresight. I’ll check it out.”

Despite the uncertain looks, none of the men moved to stop me as I struggled to not let my crutches slip in the blood, moving towards the split in the fabric of the universe. It may have looked like it would cut apart anyone who got close, but I knew it was just visual effects - it didn’t have enough power to do anything, not yet.

I reached out my hand, close enough to feel the energies moving. the young man stepped forward to steady me, and to pull me back if need be. A nice gesture, but should prove unnecessary.

The gate didn’t have a core. It was more of a symptom as opposed to a source. In fact, the mechanism was so woefully simple that even I could intuit the design. It simply drew ambient aether from the opposing end, and gathered it until it had enough to rip the path open. It would then stay indefinitely, as it fuels itself from the very connection it now sustained.

Simple, but oh-so effective. Not so much that I couldn’t destroy it.

Oh yes. I’m reasonably confident that I can fuck up its energy draw and thus render it inert. I would be lauded for it, and we would be safe for the near future. Some might consider it the obvious choice.

But those people aren’t cut out to be a leader in this new world. Death lies on the other side, that much is certain, but so does opportunity. New magics, new peoples, new worlds, new technologies. If I bury my head in the sand here, one day someone who didn’t will take everything from me.

Greg, Tatiana... both pose a threat to me. And how many more simply lurked in silence, or didn’t even bother joining the council? How many people are out there with weapons, cores, and means beyond me?

We won’t survive by hiding here, waiting for the storm to pass. I won’t allow it.

I lowered my hand, accepting the kid’s help to balance myself.

”Well?” asked John, arms crossed.

I gave the portal another look. “We have about a month until this thing opens again.”

Dmitry growled. “We can’t destroy it?”

”You could,” I said, “But it would trigger an explosion of indeterminable size.”

That was technically true, but it's only been a few days. The explosion wouldn’t be all that catastrophic.

The Russian tsked, eyeing the portal as if it wronged him personally.

”How can you tell?” asked the young man, genuine curiosity in his tone.

I wiggled my fingers. “Magic.”

”Cool!” He said. “Can you teach me?! I’m Bradley!”

The big guy chimed in as well. “Count me in. And, uh...I’m Darius.”

I looked over to John, who was clearly very interested in our little conversation. I smiled. “I’m still trying to understand it myself...but we have time to learn together, now don’t we?”

Bradley nodded enthusiastically, and John just snorted.

I attempted to clap my hands together, but forgot I was wearing crutches and failed miserably. I lost my balance and pitched forward, but Bradley grabbed my right, and Darius my left.

I spoke as if I wasn’t being supported like a decrepit old man. “Now, we have a whole month to get this operation going, and to set up a defensive perimeter around this wall. I trust you, John, and your team’s ability to see us through this.”

John looked around, taking in the devastation around us as if for the last time. From the piles of corpses, to the flipped cars and makeshift barricades, and shattered remnants of civilization all around us.

”This is going to be a damn short month,” he remarked.

And so it was.