White, that is all Gwendolyn can see as she awakens, the sun shining down directly on her. She moves her arm to give her eyes a reprieve as she sits up, for the first time taking in her new surroundings.

Looking around she notices odd trees, ones with leaves that are long with gaps in between that do little to block the harsh sun. The heat only bearable because of the pleasant breeze that is shaking the leaves along with her long blonde hair.

Next to her, still incapacitated, is Drakthar. Once she notices him she goes to his side and shakes him awake. Having been roused, the now alert Drakthar glances around, this environment being completely unfamiliar to him.

“Where are we?” He asks as his eyes settle back onto the woman who woke him.

“I don’t know, I have never seen a forest like this before,” Gwendolyn comments, the large number of trees around her causing her to mistake a jungle for a forest.

“I remember now. The underground. We were pushed through those portals,” Drakthar recalls, remembering the last thing that happened before waking up here. Gwendolyn’s expression changes to a pained one as her mind shifts from curiosity towards her new environment to the events within the subterranean civilization.

Drakthar notices the escalating frown upon her face, reactively stating, “Do not cry. I don’t wish to console you right now”.

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t want to burden you,” Gwendolyn stems the tears to snipe back at him, only able to do so from the annoyance built up at his comment.

“Sorry, I’m not the best at this. We should forget about that for now and focus on where we are,” Drakthar apologizes and then suggests, wanting to discover where they ended up.

Gwendolyn recomposes herself before giving her analysis on their current location, “It doesn’t seem like any of the climates that are in discovered lands. The only places in the known world with trees are the Marshlands, the Mountains, and the Sacrosanct Empire… but none of those places have trees like this. Additionally, they do not have a climate this warm”.

“Then we are in a foreign land. We should walk in a direction until we find civilization,” Drakthar suggests, finding people who can tell them where they are being the top priority.

The two weary travelers silently trek through the jungle, the friends they were separated from the main thing on their minds. Their collective brooding ends when a loud screech emanates from atop a tree before them. Perched on it is a bird, rivaling the size of a smaller sand dragon, its feathers an odd purple color make it look almost unnatural.

Once alerted to its presence the avid fighters draw their axe and bow respectively and prepare for whatever the beast is planning to do with them. It flaps its wings, creating a small gust below it that causes the leaves of the tree to almost snap off.

As the bird takes to the air it continues its shriek, giving Gwendolyn ample time to lodge an arrow into its left wing. Its cries intensify as it descends, swooping down towards the two insects that have wandered too close to its nest.

Drakthar prepares for its onslaught, holding his axe, biding his time for the perfect moment. Once the bird is just within reach, its long sharp beak about to collide with his power armor, does he strike, bringing his axe around to the beast’s neck, cutting through it with ease, causing a fountain of blood to come from it as its head is removed from its body.

The head lies in the dirt, a confused look on the dead animal’s face as it met an opponent it couldn’t handle.

“Nice,” Gwendolyn tells Drakthar as she starts to wipe some of the bird’s blood off her.

Drakthar puts away his axe, an unimpressed look on his face as he glares down at the bird.

“Its feathers are so weird,” Gwendolyn comments as she plucks one off of it, hoping one day to show Xander how odd it is.

“It is close to nightfall,” Drakthar points out, signaling up to the darkening sky.

“I guess we should start looking for a good spot to camp then. I still have my tent so it shouldn’t be too bad,” Gwendolyn notes, starting to scout around for a good place to set up.

Once they find a flat spot below as much tree cover as they can expect in a place like this, they start to set up; Drakthar starting a fire while Gwendolyn puts up the tent.

She joins him at the fire once she is done, both of them sitting there silently for a while before Drakthar is the one to break the silence, “We’re going to find them”.

“Yeah,” Gwendolyn somberly agrees, not wanting to even contemplate otherwise. She clutches at the thing hanging from her neck, feeling both the locket and the golden tooth Xander gifted her.

She takes off the locket and opens it up, staring down at his picture in both sadness and determination.

“You sleep, I’ll take the first watch,” Drakthar tells her.

“It’s fine, I’ll stay out here with you. I couldn’t sleep if I wanted to right now,” Gwendolyn explains, too many things running through her head that she would have to quiet.

“Fine, you take the first watch then, I will sleep,” Drakthar states as he opens up the flaps of the tent and goes inside. Once he is gone the tears start to come, streaming down Gwendolyn’s face as she stares at Xander inside the locket.

Drakthar hears her sobs but decides to leave her to it. He knows there is nothing he can do right now to console her. Despite the noise, he is able to fall asleep, eager to regain his energy to continue on the next morning.

Outside, Gwendolyn tries to stop, trying to prove to herself that she is strong. Attempting to reject the emotions she feels due to them being a sign of weakness. But it is too late, a predator has already spotted her weakness, using it as an opening to move in.

The last thing Gwendolyn feels before falling unconscious is a blunt blow to her head, the predator moving on to its next prey, Drakthar.

Gwendolyn wakes up, the first thing she notices is the red carpet she is lying on. Her eyes follow it forward leading to a man sitting casually on a golden throne, his blood-red eyes peering down at her.

As she sits up she notices there are many around her, men and women lining the walls of the hall she was brought to. Next to her is Drakthar, chained to the ground due to giving their captors more of a struggle.

But the chains aren’t the first thing Gwendolyn notices about Drakthar, he has been stripped of his possessions, being forced to wear only a ragged pair of pants that are clearly too small for him.

It is only then that she notices the same is true for herself, her bag is missing, her bow no longer slung over her shoulder, and she is in an unfamiliar dress she knows isn’t hers.

“Well well well, it looks like the two mongrels that decided to trespass on my island have awoken,” the man with pitch-black hair and deep red eyes declares from his throne.

Drakthar pulls on his chains as the man begins to speak, realizing how tensile they are he snaps them; causing every man and woman watching to panic, except for one.

The man on the chair begins to complain as he raises an arm, “I see they didn’t do a satisfactory job judging your strength. No matter, I shall have you chained back up with something you could never break”.

As he finishes his statement a new set of chains fly in from the back of the room, tangling themselves around Drakthar and holding him to the floor.

“You won’t get out of these, they are made of the strongest material in the world,” the man informs him with his hand now clenched into a fist before him, clearly he was the one controlling these new chains.

“Who are you?” Drakthar asks, mystified by a man who can control chains without having to touch them.

The man sits back down and relaxes, pouring himself a glass of wine before elaborating, “Since you asked who I am, let me introduce myself. I am God, or rather that is what I am known as here and shall be known as by the two of you”.

“A man who presumes himself a God, we’ll see if that holds true,” Drakthar comments as he tries to burst through these chains as well, but it is all for not, the metal indeed too strong for him to break.

“I see by your feeble attempt to break free you seek to challenge the notion. Fine have it your way then, let’s play a little game you and I. If you can hide what you are thinking from me I will happily admit that I am not God, but, if I am able to tell you every thought you have you’ll have to admit my assertion is true. How about it Drakthar?” God suggests, confident in his ability to win such an impossible game.

“Fine,” Drakthar agrees without hesitation, not even realizing that God has spoken his name before he ever introduced himself. He starts to think of a memory he buried away for a long time, the day his parents left him to go on a mission into the Mountains, one they would never return from.

“I do not know why you would choose such an old and intimate memory, but I am afraid now I must mention it in front of all these people. You were thinking about the last time you saw your parents. Now must we continue on or will you accept that I am in fact God?” God correctly states what Drakthar was thinking.

“I don’t know how you are doing that, but it doesn’t make you a God,” Drakthar rebuffs his claim, although coming to the conclusion that the man before him can read his thoughts.

“Now, because you two have been wondering the entire time, let me answer the question you two both have on your minds. The day is the hundred and third, the year one-thousand and twenty-nine,” God informs them, having read their minds knowing they traveled through time and wanted to know when they were.

Both Drakthar and Gwendolyn’s faces light up, the date God gave them being the same as the one they were pushed through the portal.

“It would seem you are exactly where you are supposed to be,” God comments knowing each of their thoughts.

“That means maybe everyone else didn’t move through time either,” Gwendolyn can’t keep herself from noting, looking towards Drakthar with hopeful eyes, completely ignoring their current situation.

“Maybe,” Drakthar agrees, his tone still reserved, as he is fully aware of the others around him.

“I see, so this ring wasn’t for show,” God gets both of their attention as he holds up Gwendolyn’s wedding ring, starting to flip it within his hand over and over as if it were a coin.

“Give that back,” Gwendolyn demands, starting to walk towards the front where God is taunting her.

“You know I am greatly irritated that you were thinking of another man while in my presence, far less handsome than me, might I add,” he pulls out Gwendolyn’s locket and flips it open.

“Give them back!” Gwendolyn repeats now right in front of him.

“I do not think so. These possessions are mine now; I let you hold onto them for long enough. You see everything material belongs to me, and that includes this ring and locket, along with those two golden bows I found on you, Drakthar’s finely crafted axe, and the power armor,” God boldly declares.

“You’re leaving us with just a single set of clothing?” Drakthar asks, still being held down in the chains.

“Yes, but you will get an opportunity to earn more. Judging by how you snapped your bindings earlier I would wager you will earn a lot, but that is only if you accommodate me,” God tells them.

“Accommodate you how?” Drakthar questions, unsure of what plans this man has for him and Gwendolyn.

“You see Drakthar, I am a man who craves entertainment. I satiate that craving in various ways. For you, I would very much like to watch you fight so you will be joining the many men I have performing in my fighting pits. The more you win the more I will give you. It is a fair deal is it not?” God gives him insight into how this place works.

Drakthar finds himself agreeing with that sentiment, although that is if God hadn’t taken everything from him in the first place. But to Drakthar it doesn’t matter, if it’s a fight he knows he will get everything back.

“And you expect me to fight in this?” Gwendolyn asks, gesturing towards her dark blue dress, intent on doing so if it will get precious keepsakes back.

“No, I would not be so cruel as to make a beauty such as you fight in my pits. The dress you have on makes you so desirable, but you would be even more exquisite without it, lying on my bed surrounded by rose petals,” God paints the picture, telling Gwendolyn exactly what he wants from her.

“I would never, you’re disgusting,” Gwendolyn spits back at him.

“Ah, I can tell you are conflicted because of your husband, Xander was it? But I am afraid you are mistaking lust for love. I never meant for you to stop loving him in favor of me, I merely wish that we help each other feel a higher pleasure,” God elucidates, making it clear that there are no emotional attachments involved in his proposition.

Gwendolyn doesn’t respond to his further statements, instead, she glares directly into the eyes of the man she detests, trying to convey to him how much she loathes him with her expression alone.

God calmly stands until he is face to face with her, smiling as he continues, “Once again Gwendolyn you misunderstand. The decision is already made for you; I am merely waiting for you to give the correct answer. If you refuse to bask in the pleasure of being with me, then you will have to understand the pain of refusing me”.

“That’s enough!” Drakthar calls out in anger from within his chains. God’s eyebrows rise as he thinks he sees Drakthar start to bend the chains a little, but he remains restrained despite the herculean feat.

God composes himself, delivering one final order, “Yes, it would seem two very extraordinary strays have fallen into my lap. Take the two of them away. Welcome to God’s Island, let you both bring me entertainment”.