“Hmm…” Max hummed with his thumb to his chin.

Before him a stark and yet impossibly complex formation of spatial lines interacted with each other, forming a long and wide cylinder. Space shocks outlined the perimeter of the cylinder, creating a flexible and ever buoyant spring like casting. Between the circular casting, a hole through space elongated as if through an infinite mirror.

On one end Max stood along with a rocky environment decently high up in an unnamed mountain. He was far from Lesterwood, far from Salarin for that matter, on a small island made up of a single mountain. He and Emi had spotted the untouched land while teleporting overhead, deciding it would be a good place to stop for a little while.

They were heading away from Salae, farther than Max had initially wanted to. But the informant one of the [Assassin]’s spoke of scared him. There was someone predicting their movements, someone how could see or knew where he’d teleport to and from. Even if said teleport was high in a mountain near a nest of monsters.

Staying in Salarin simply wasn’t an option anymore.

On the other end of the cylinder was a similar rocky landscape not unlike the one Max stood on. But, unlike his, this mountain was on the edge of the horizon, almost as far as the eye could see. This second island was isolated as well, making the two islands twins untouched by mankind.

At least, until Max and Emi found them.

The cylinder was a tunnel, that much was apparent. It was similar to the Divine tunnels the Gods used to teleport individuals to their Domain’s, but while theirs were pure white, or black in Peneil’s case, Max’s was plagued by random colors. The cylinder was mainly blue with some streaks of grey mixed in, a reflection of the surroundings. Water and rock.

“I think… I think I didn’t make the shocks tight enough.” Max said to the others. “Some space is bleeding through.”

“Space bleeding through?” Isaac asked, his eyes relishing in the swirls of magical space.

“The color. It should be solid white but space is getting in somewhere.”

It was progress, however, and that was all Max really cared about. The question now was, how did the bleed through effect the tunnel. As always a small rock was the test subject, hopefully this time it wouldn’t disappear for weeks then suddenly reappear in the middle of a party.

The rock slid along the tunnel until the first major gap in the shocks. It skidded out, falling into the ocean below like an airplane dropping luggage. But, in the rock’s defense, it did make it decently far out to see and towards the other island.

“Okay, stand back everyone.” The Lost Lord said.

A blade of spitting white-blue space formed and drew in the surrounding world. As he waved the Astral Blade around, it sliced at the fabric of existence, leaving a trail in its wake. The wake snapped together a few seconds later, but a clear after-image was formed.

Using his fake arm, Max reached into the tunnel. He waited a moment to see if his arm exploded or something, only feeling a small pull towards the end of the construct.

Good. He thought. Now, just like with Peneil….

The blade sliced into the tunnel’s walls at a particularly tight area. Like sheering giftwrap with scissors the sword easily cut into the lining. The walls moved to recreate themselves, but Max had pushed his hand through, blocking the effect.

He peered in, leaning a bit, and looked through the hole. A different world met his eye, a different climate brushed against his skin, a different air entered his nostrils. Teals and cyans dominated the leaves and trees, along with vibrant reds and oversaturated yellows.

Movement circled around the open sky, birds flapping and cawing with unnatural and uneasy colors. They each had massive beaks and even larger talons. Below, near the purple grass, were moving mushroom people.

Some carried pickaxes, pushed trolleys, and or waved primitive weapons in the air, hoping to dissuade the overhead attackers. The working mushrooms walked in lines, up and down a mountain of green obsidian. Some walked in the other direction, carting along ornate and raw gems of glowing variety.

In the distance a rolling storm of pink and black clouds muted the horizon and squandered the air. Outlines of massive, winged creatures blotted within the cotton candy like vapor after every flash of brown lightning.

Giggling sounded like a street performer a few blocks away. It echoed through the lands and out the small rip in reality in a way that toyed with Max’s senses. He felt his inner being vibrate and shake as the laughter grew closer.

A cold sweat dropped along his back causing his spine to physically shiver along with his internal being. For no longer than a breath, Max checked the infinite beach, not wanting to remove his eyes off of the Astral for longer than a moment. The grey beach was perfectly still and calm, a reversed context from how he felt.

Which was odd… it was almost like there were no issues at all… like it was all in his head.

Oh! Max realized.

He snapped his attention back to the hole in space, quickly removing his grasp and allowing it to reform. He let the tunnel fail by ending his mana supply to the construct, which resulted in space merging back together in a slow cascade.

“Did you hear that?” Celenia asked. “A child giggling?”

Max sent his experience to his bonded partner, allowing Emi to see and hear what he felt.

“Yes.” Alia said. “It reminded me of the time I visited an orphanage.”

“I don’t see any orphanages out here.” Isaac said gesturing to the open water.

Max cleared his throat, “It was the Astral. But that’s not important right now.”

Alia stammered. “T-the Astral?”

“We’ve got to go. We’ll talk about it later. Someone shook the shaker stones.”

Celenia’s eyebrows rose, “Which one.”

A grey perfectly spherical rock appeared in Max’s hand. It vibrated like a silent phone. “Lesterwood semi-emergency site three.”

Before they left for the vacation, Max had spent quite a bit of gold buying and having upgrades placed on a decently large stock of stones. He had labeled them a location, a situation, and a specific spot. Depending on the stone Max would either come running or pick up a message at his leisure.

In this case, someone in Lesterwood needed to speak with him or one of the others in an important capacity. Site three was a predetermined spot in the neighboring forest, just inside the range of mana messages. There were safety concerns with this type of conversation, but it was the best they had.

“Okay, let’s go.” Celenia said.

Lesterwood’s forest, a patchwork amalgamation of Max’s life on Nava. His first step, his first breath, his first… everything. Spell, kill, near death experience, level-up. His life on this hellish planet started here, a few days walk from his home city. From his friends. From his life.

There were good memories and bad, all of which had made Max who he was today.

He and Emi arrived in a flourish of spatial mana. Teleporting very large distances was a bit of a ritual. From preparing the mana and spell to visualizing the end location with a proper image, Max had learned early on that Greater Teleport was a spell that took time to execute correctly.

Interestingly enough, he could make it all the way to Lesterwood with mana to spare. He wasn’t sure how far the twin isolated islands were from the city, but he was certain it was further than Esmel was to Lesterwood. Which meant the boons from his evolved class [Lost Astral Lord] were doing significant work.

Checking around the nearby trees, the duo found nothing out of the ordinary. They didn’t think it would be a trap, but there was always a threat. Maybe Eden got to Clammy. Maybe he tricked Vel. Who knows, it was best to be paranoid when lives were on the line.

After only a few seconds, a blue sparkling bird made up entirely of mana flapped down from a branch. Max held his hand out for a landing pad, taking the letter from the mana message as it completed its task.

The letter read:

Max, this is Clammy. I made a deal with a high-importance noble of Salae to get the Healers back into the capital. I may have used your name and status as friends with God Subuntu to get my way. I know it was reckless but the entire time I didn’t get a vision of the future, so I think this is the correct course of action.

The noble says Eden has been isolating himself after an attempted assassination. Meaning he has done nothing to fix the issue with the Church of Healing. People are sick, dying, and most importantly, nobles in Salae are losing money.

This is our entrance into the political rivalry Alia will need to combat our brother. Sorry for making you a part of this, but you were the only option I saw to get everything in order. Not to mention I didn’t think you would be key to let people suffer because Eden is an ass.

Whether Eden meant to attack the [Head Priestess] or not is of little debate. I doubt he meant to, that is simply unlike him. But then again, I wouldn’t have expected a King to hire [Assassins].

I have a few other potential meetings set up with other nobles of note, but none as promising as this one. Salae needs the Healers back, we need to be in the good graces of the few who can oppose Eden. I see this as a win-win, I’m sure Alia would as well.

Max, there are rumors going around the upper echelons about Eden. None of which are good. People are scared what his next move will be. He’s been executing people for minor crimes, locking himself away, and has been seen muttering to himself.

I think, if these are true, that Eden is broken. The faster he is removed from the throne the better.

Please try to talk to Subuntu. Salae is in trouble.

-Clammy.

Max read the letter aloud to Emi. They both sat in silence organizing their thoughts. It was important to get the Healers back to Salae, that much was true. But Subuntu knew that. Hells, all of the Healers knew that. That was their job after all. Heal those who couldn’t afford city healers. Heal those who most would scoff at.

There were greater background forces at foot, that much was obvious as well. An assassination attempt on Eden was worrisome, but also presented an opportunity. It meant there were others that looked down upon the King’s rule.

Eden had pissed off someone enough to the point of hiring an [Assassin] as well as enough to anger a God… what were the chances they were over the same thing?

Max didn’t know. But he knew exactly who to talk to. It was time to call in a personal favor.

But first, he needed to take care of an errand. He removed a small wooden box from his inventory, wrote a small letter, and teleported the items into Lesterwood. The letter was a user guide towards the box’s content, inventory rings. Max had created a few dozen at this point, all with varying degrees of upper size limits.

While a few were small in comparison to others, they all could hold a guard platoon’s worth of equipment. The exploding part was still an issue, however, so explicit warnings had to be given out to any potential buyers. Not that Max thought this first batch would be sold, or at least, not all of them. The letter also outlined friends that were to be given a free ring. Clammy, Reep, Shatterwind, etc.

Finally, Max wrote one last letter addressed to Clammy. It was short and sweet, only explaining that he would try his best with her request but there were no promises he could change the God of Healing’s mind.

After that, an hour went by as he and Emi explained what happened to Alia and the others. She was positively frightened by Clammy’s description of the rumors surrounding Eden. She knew better than anyone that the castle had been on lock-down since her mother was kidnapped and her uncle murdered.

There should not have been anything close to an assassination attempt on the King. Unless someone was lying or purposefully allowing things to pass.

A few teleports after that Max and Emi arrived in New Mundo, the Healer city of tents. A few buildings were having their foundations laid, others were just starting to have walls put up. It wouldn’t be long until the city was a full-fledged city.

Max didn’t waste time. Last time he was here he almost died, so he took to the air scanning the tents for threats or veils of Salae. He didn’t find anything, which was what he expected. Why would the Healers keep around Salaen troops if they were actively removed from the kingdom?

“Excuse me?” Max said to a Healer working behind a desk. “Can you tell me if there is a shrine to God Subuntu around?”

“Most center tent, near the primary construction.” She said without missing a beat.

Max didn’t know if it was paranoia but as he and Emi walked along the streets, he felt eyes tracing his movements. It was like the Healers were watching him, waiting for him to make a mistake.

The central tent happened to be the same one [Head Priestess] Lusia worked out of, which also meant it was the one that was destroyed in the assassination attempt. Although it didn’t look like it had been destroyed.

Max found the shrine easy enough.

You have entered a place of the Divine.

Before he could kneel or speak, a notification prompted across his and Emi’s vision.

Subuntu, God of Healing, wishes to speak.

Accept: Y/N?

After Peneil’s abduction, Max wanted Emi to travel with him when he spoke to the Gods. He expected a bit of arguing to get his wish, however. But evidently that worry was moot.

They closed their eyes and selected Y.

The Godly Domain was much the same as the last time Max visited. A pristine garden with white marble buildings sporadically and strategically placed around an ornate fountain. Stone paths limbered around the serenity, allowing ease of movement through the flowers and herbal plants.

It was sincere and tranquil, much like how one would believe the God of Healing to be.

Max and Emi gazed at the primary attractions of the garden, reading through the small accompanying signs while they waited. Just like last time, Subuntu found the Lost Lord himself, rather than how Yepu or Sahhgen had trails to their homes.

Subuntu was familiar but wholly alien. Max had met royalty and other Gods, but there was something about the God of Healing that preened an otherworldly power. Whether it was the nonchalant grace the man walked with, his keen eye and aged palms, or his confidence to never condescend those below him, he didn’t know, only that Subuntu was something else.

Subuntu knew his position of Godship was because of the people of Nava, not because he himself was someone special. All he was, was a lowly healer, one that saw the decency in life and wished to correct the pitfalls that harmed such existence.

The God was that of humility, unlike most of his brothers and sisters.

“Max, Emi, good to see you both.” Subuntu said, his beard jostling with every word.

“Likewise!” Emi chirped.

Max nodded along with his bond’s words, “I’m sure you know why we are here.”

“Indeed. For the moment, let us take a stroll, I have somethings to show you two.”

The trio began to walk through the garden where Subuntu pointed out magical plants and herbs. It almost seemed like the God was showing off his collection, but there was a backhanded sense of teacher and student in the air. It was apparent that each bud, each floweret was important and that Max and Emi should keep an eye out for them during their travels.

They arrived at a cloud of colors and images. Flickers of people shone through the fluffy material, showing important aspects of important lives. What they were doing varied heavily. Some filed and filled paper work, others worked to heal the blind, a few stood before battles of life and death with a chip on their shoulder.

For only a moment Eden appeared. He sat at the edge of his bed, head in his hands, elbows on his knees. He was disheveled and dirty, a rotten stink was present even though the clouds didn’t produce smell. The King was muttering to himself, even going so far as to snap at the air when a particularly important mutter was needed to be said.

The images rotated again, this time showing a small child in a meadow. She frolicked and played in the tall grass, a stark contrast to the previous showing.

“What did Eden do to cause you to remove aid from Salae?” Max asked.

With a hum Subuntu answered. “It is not what he has done, it is what he will do. What he will become.”

The image flickered to a man standing before a podium, a grin in his voice, and a joke in the air. The man said something and the crowed rolled with bellowing laughs.

“What is this?” Max asked, having remembered the memory statue he was tested with from his last visit.

“I call it the vision cloud. They do not have a proper name, as they are not for market. Such a tool would be horrid in the right, or should I say wrong, hands.”

Emi spoke up. “Who are these people?”

“Individuals I have marked as important for the future of Nava. Some [Kings], like your acquaintance, others [Warlords] or future Healers of great renown.”

The image flipped to a woman holding the hand of a dying elder.

“Are we being watched?” Max asked knowing the answer already.

Subuntu only smiled. “To answer your earlier question, I do already know why you are here. You wish for me to return the Healers to Salae.”

“I take it Clammy is also someone you watch?”

Again the God didn’t answer, he only smiled.

Max sighed. “I don’t know why she wants them back, only that she gains some sort of political foothold. And while I wish for Eden to fail as King, I trust my teammate and don’t particularly want to see citizens die because of his mistakes.”

“The Healers will return, I sent the orders as soon as you entered this realm.” Subuntu said.

Emi frowned. “Just like that?”

“Just like that, yes.”

Max frowned. “Why?”

Subuntu didn’t sigh, didn’t squint in irritation. The question was relative and expected. “Our last official meeting ended with my arrogance getting the better of me. I used you, and now I am returning the favor.”

“But you just said you ordered your people back to Salae before I spoke my request.”

Subuntu smiled greatly. “Yes I did. Forgive me, I presumed your request ahead of time. Forgive me. A God such as I should be better prepared in the ways of polite conversation. Allow me to alleviate my ignorance and offer you some information for my mistake.”

The string of sentences were filtered with a smirk, like the God was flaunting his words like a child bending the rules.

“Uhh… okay…” Max tried but trailed off.

“What do you know of the five Primordials?”

“I recognize the word, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard of them.”

Subuntu smiled ruefully and spoke with a raised eyebrow. “A pity. Before I begin, just know that there are somethings a God can not mention. In fact, I doubt any being as powerful as us can speak of the matter under the rules of the Divine.”

Max hesitated but nodded. “I understand. I think.”

“There are five Primordials, each representing an aspect of life that they control. King Eden Salae is a prospecting candidate for one such being. Nix, the Doppelganger, was an agent of another.”

“Nix was a vile creature. Does that apply to Eden?” Emi asked.

“Not necessarily. Nix was host to a different Beast compared to what Eden may house.”

“And those Beasts hold different goals.” Max said flatly.

Subuntu smiled. “Indeed they do. Some like to watch the world and course correct, others like to interfere and slaughter millions. But that is all I can say on the matter.”

It was then Max realized why the God of Healing pulled his Healers from Salae to begin with. Gods could not interfere directly with the lives of Nava. Sure, they could aid their followers or the ones who beg for help, but they cannot simply smite down their foes.

Which meant Eden was one such foe. Or at least, what he could grow to be.

In a way, Subuntu was asking for Max’s help. The God couldn’t or wouldn’t do it on his own, which made the responsibility fall to one of the few with the means and will to take control of a potential Kingly threat. After all, Max was already an enemy of the state. One without other kingdom’s backing. One that could work in the shadows, moving pieces around like the good little soldier he was.

“I do not appreciate this.” Max said promptly.

Subuntu’s smile fell, he scrunched his lips. “What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean. Watching me? Watching my friends? Playing your hand at my expense. Bending the rules to better fit your narrative while making it seem as though you do it for mine. You use my life as a tool to get what you want.”

The God tried to speak, but Max talked over him.

“I thought it was over with Ofes, then you dawned a New Era using my likeness and knowledge. I was taken, forced from my world into this one. Why, WHY can I not live my own life. Why do I have to kneel in the presence of those who have taken an interest of me?” Max scoffed. “I’ll deal with Eden, but I think we are through after this. Remove your mark.”

Emi mimicked her partner’s scowl, but chose not to speak. Instead the garden stayed silent and still. The only movement was the rotating cloud surveillance video that cycled through the thousands of individuals that the God watched.

Subuntu, despite the harsh words, didn’t look angry. He didn’t feign understanding, as he thought everything he was doing was for the best. He may speak with a non-condescending cadence and move like that of a parent figure, but the man was still a God. He understood many things Max’s mortal mind couldn’t.

In a way, however, Max’s mortal mind understood plenty of things the once Human God had long forgotten. In the realm of immortality, one’s lowly feelings had no place in the greater picture. It was one of the reasons other Gods seemed distant, unnerving, cruel.

Divinity was a step away from humanity as mortal life was infinitely far from immortality.

In this moment Max thought of Isaac. While the man had not been alive for as long as Subuntu had, his actions spoke for his own character. Tortured and imprisoned for nearly all of his life, the man could still smile, could still banter, could still grieve, could still be happy. Would Isaac turn into a reserved powerless God?

“If that is what you wish, I will heed your request.” Subuntu finally said.

A sucking presence eluded over Max’s body, followed by the disconnecting feeling of being hollow. The mark was removed, that much was apparent, but the Lost Lord didn’t care about the awkwardness. Instead he felt out with his magic, touching the space that lingered nearby.

He noticed something odd. Not that the mark was missing, no. Rather that something was still there. His Pocket World. It traveled with him to a God’s Domain. He felt for the entrance, finding it react to his will. He could open it. He could allow his friends passage into a world they were not invited to.

He didn’t, obviously, but the stray idea that he could rippled through his mind. Where else could he bring the people in his Pocket World?

“It is finished.” Subuntu said. “I will send you back.”

The reason Max even felt out with his magic to begin with was for this moment. He didn’t want to put his hands in the Divine any longer. Why would he allow one to teleport him, a [Space Mage], when he could do it himself. One could argue that was a favor, couldn’t they?

“No need.” Max said, flaring his mana to the fullest.

An image of his goal location came to life in his mind. He saw the forest of Lesterwood, the same spot he had been nearly an hour or two ago. An ending, or entrance depending on how you looked at it, formed in the dense trees. A similar one appeared next to its creator, tight and without error.

The experience of crafting dozens of inventory rings made Max rather adept at creating space shocks. Mixed with his prior experience of creating space tunnels, he knew how to combine the two without a doubt in his mind. The trial on the isolated islands were close to perfect, there was some bleeding, but nothing he couldn’t handle.

“Goodbye, God Subuntu.” Max said, taking Emi in his arms.

The God only nodded, solemnly and mutely. A moment later, the two guests stepped into their own exit and returned to their proper realm.

Subuntu smiled after the Lost Lord and his bond disappeared. While he couldn’t exactly guess why Max insisted on leaving of his own accord, he was glad he did. The young man showed the much older man something impressive. Who would have thought he would have learned the intricate components for one of the few Divine ordinance spells, Realm Hop.

While it wasn’t unheard of for a mortal to learn a spell given to the Divine by the System, it was unquestionably rare. Divine Will was the easiest to replicate, but that only happened once a century in the greatest of leaders or the strongest of thinkers. Realm Hop on the other hand?

Subuntu racked his brain trying to remember if anyone had ever done what Max had.

His musing was ended as a few presences invaded his home. Invade wasn’t the correct word as these beings didn’t invade unless there were times of war. But the fact of the matter was that they came to the God of Healing’s Domain without invitation, something that was frowned upon in the land of the Heavens.

Subuntu could do the same, making use of Realm Hop, if he wanted. But he had already skirted the rules enough today, he didn’t want to risk anything else for a while.

“Bunnty!” A voice called. “How was your meeting? There was a shift in my predictions!”

The Goddess of Gambling was one of the more elusive Gods, although she had a hand in most of the events of the world. No one truly knew her name, only that she ruined lives and or created dynasties. She was an addiction, a curse, a savior, but most simply called her Fortune.

“I have asked you several times not to call me that. I am starting to believe you are ignoring me.” Subuntu stated flatly.

“Ignore you? How could you insinuate such a thing? I am truly shocked!”

A second voice, this one shifting and never stationary, spoke, “She has a bet with Izipae about how long it would take you to beg for her to stop with the pet name.”

Fortune’s smile fell, a stoic mirror image of Subuntu’s.

“Well then, Izipae wins in that case. I will never beg. Now that I know of course.” The God of Healing said.

The gambler’s expression shifted instantly, a predatory smirk and narrowed eyes culminated on a flicker of magic. A celebratory chime sounded in the distance, along with the cheer of illusionary streamers. She giggled as her rewards were summoned into her hand, a small vial of brown liquid and a bag of pure luck.

Not that she needed it in this moment.

“That was from a bet with Hxut. He gambled a vial of Heart of Mud against my luck. All I had to do was get you to say, “I will never beg.” Easiest win of my life, I swear!”

Subuntu didn’t look impressed, however the other God did. Ssawp, while one of the Big Three, was just as elusive as Fortune. They did what they wanted, went where they wanted, talked to who they wanted. Orchestrating Rebirth and Change was something only a very powerful being could handle, after all, it was the basis of everything on Nava.

The third and final presence in the Healing God’s Domain was annoyed. Very annoyed. Her siblings’ antics usually didn’t get to her, but after the event that just took place… she could do without the games. Which was ironic, because Ofes was the best at games besides maybe Fortune.

“Are you done?” Her voice was neater than her usual Godly tune, as she was speaking to essentially coworkers rather than her usual clientele of the pious.

The other Gods went silent.

Ofes’s face twisted into a smile. “Subuntu. Why did this happen?”

The man’s eyebrows rose. “Are you suggesting that this is my fault? I told you months ago that you were pushing him too far too fast. He’s smart, otherwise he wouldn’t have made it this long.”

The Goddess of Light was like stone, unflinching and unnerving. “You are to bring him back to our side. Quickly, might I add. The other one has grown rather restless since Max arrived.”

“And whose fault is that?” Fortune asked.

“I told you not to capture him Ofes, didn’t I?” Subuntu asked, his tone mildly accusatory. “But we are not here to talk about him. Max is the important problem right now.”

“Did you at least tell him about Salae?”

“I did the best I could. You know the limits.”

“Did you make the correct hints?”

“Indeed. Max should have everything he needs. For the time at least. Maybe in a few centuries we can make peace.”

Ofes’s light filled body flickered. “Centuries?” She laughed. “I think not. Months, Healer. Months.”

Fortune nodded along. “I think she is right, Bunnty. A rogue Lost Lord is not good for any of us.”

Subuntu ignored the nickname and said. “See that is the difference between us, and what created this problem to begin with. Max’s potential life may not be good for us, but that sure as Hells doesn’t mean it will be a bad life for him. Pushing him to our course is not going to work from this point on. He noticed our hands way too early. He’s noticed things none of us intended him to.”

Ssawp rolled their every aging eyes. “No, he hasn’t. He only is paranoid. He only sees the scope of his life, not how things came to be to begin with. He has seen nothing other than the barest of minimal.”

Ofes agreed. “If you are making things too obvious, of course he is going to notice, Subuntu. Showing him that cloud of yours was a mistake. A bad one at that.”

The God of Healing scoffed and sparked a huff of Divine magic. “He noticed something was wrong as soon as I alerted him of the assassination attempt. You all said to play it off like I was protecting one of my own, but we all know Max has been used before. He looks for avenues for becoming a tool of someone else’s.”

“I disagree.” Ofes tried.

“Then why did it take him this long to contact me? Max of a few months ago would have stuck in nose into the matters of the Church instantly. He would have begged my [Head Priestess] for answers or visited one of my shrines. But he didn’t. Instead he stayed away until one of his friends asked him for help. You can’t be foolish enough to think the Lost Lord ignorant, can you?”

“Watch your tone, Healer! I made you who you are today, do not forget that.” The Goddess of Light snapped.

“You made me? Just like you helped Peneil? How’s he doing by the way? After you asked me to heal him, I mean? Still unresponsive and lethargic?”

“You healed him?” Ofes growled. “Some Healer you are for a God to be in such a state. If Scale was still alive, he would have healed Peneil.”

Subuntu gnawed his lip. “There is nothing wrong with Peneil. I tried everything. He is in that state because something is fundamentally broken or because he wants to.”

“Right, because a meeting with Max could do that to a God.”

“Peneil was in a fragile state for centuries before Max was even born. Did you not notice? Did any of you not notice? One of our brothers sick and wasting away? In need of help. In need of an intervention. Or were you all too focused on your own goals to see something so plain.”

The meeting of Gods was silent at Subuntu’s words. No one met his eyes, each looking away as guilt flooded their very beings.

“And you call yourselves Gods. Pathetic.” He paused for a moment, looking for a rebuttal. “Max is to be left alone. Officially. Continue to move your pieces as you see fit, but no direct contact with him or his inner circle. In time I will make a move for his friendship once again, this time making it a true one rather than a phony business relationship.”

Again no one reacted to Subuntu’s words.

“Now, leave.”

One by one the Gods disappeared. First Ofes, wearing a perpetual frown. Then Ssawp, who looked thoughtful. Lastly was Fortune, who stepped to the God of Healing and kissed him on the cheek.

Before Realm Hopping, she whispered. “Goodbye Bunnty and good luck.”