Chapter 347

Return Home (VII)

Cain was quick to catch up to the news of Earth--and even quicker to realize they were no different than he anticipated. One of the many ‘great exoduses’ had already occurred, with approximately two-thirds of able-bodied men, women, and children of the world had moved into the Tower. Though a great deal of mankind was still left afloat the blue sphere floating in space, many ghastly sights still existed--ghost cities, once sprawling centers of life, were left abandoned.

Cars lined up their streets, looted buildings with tattered windows framing them, each turning into a newer animal kingdom. Most of the people still on Earth elected to either live within the few preserved blocks around the Towers, or much further away in either the dilapidated suburbs or the ‘wilderness’. Communities formed as communities do around the dogmatic idea that the Towers were hell-spewed temptations, or literal gateways to demonic reckoning. There weren’t many, but neither were they few.

As such, a clear-cut divide existed--and then there were the nomads in-between, who scoured the Towers in the pursuit of dreams, but longing home left them to stay on Earth for a while. It wasn’t much different than Cain’s experiences in the previous run. It was strange, he mused.

He’d changed the history considerably, altered the reality to the point that this world, this timeline ought to be a completely alien world to his last. And, in some aspects, it certainly was--Conquerors of today were leagues and beyond stronger than the Conquerors of the last timeline at the same point. But, in many other ways, it was the same world--perhaps slightly accelerated in the nature of development and evolution, but trekking the same road, following the same path, climbing the same mountain.

Perchance, he supposed, the summit itself would be the same--the thinner herd of Conquerors racing toward the top, with the middling adventurers filling up the boots of the majority, and those ‘left behind’ on Earth, shaping up a new world in their own, slightly alien image.

None of that mattered, however, as he was pulled out of his daydreaming by the arrival of Emma, Senna, and Lana. He’d promised he’d cook them all a nice lunch since it’s been quite some time, and the three had taken the opportunity to ‘doll-up for him’, as they said.

“Ah, it’s a steak,” Senna said. “Of course, it’s always a steak.”

“Hey, young lady. I’ve some machismo, manly stereotypes to uphold.”

“You really, really, really don’t,” she smiled and kissed him lightly as her arms wrapped around his back. “You’re the furthest thing from manly I can imagine.”

“Alright, snobbish one; at least Lana agrees, don’t you kiddo? Your daddy is a manly man, eh? Eh?”

“Ew, please stop using ‘daddy’,” Lana rolled her eyes. She had grown considerably, Cain noted, since he last saw her--in fact, she was almost six-three by now, shooting past even Emma, head-to-head with Cain himself. “You’re neither a southerner nor a pimp. Wait, you’re not a pimp, are you?!”

“You’ve turned our daughters against me, Em’,” Cain commented as Lana hugged him as well. The group had settled on the balcony of the apartment they used to live on back on Earth, overlooking the fairly rundown L.A. “Uncool.”

“Yes, yes, blame it all on me,” she said, sitting down. “Our kids have just grown-up, C’. You think they still call me ‘mommy’ and ask me stuff? Do you know when was the last time either asked me to go shopping with them? Or to go to a spa or something?”

“Enough with the guilt-tripping, both of you,” Senna quickly said, popping open a bottle of wine. “So, daddy--”

“--ew, don’t,” Cain reeled back.

“You asked for it,” Senna grinned. “Anyway, daddy, tell us about your trip. Mom mentioned something about you becoming a God.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“It’s alright, don’t worry,” Senna said. “We’re all equally prepared to sing hymns in your name and do other rituals. As long as there’s no animal sacrifice involved!”

“Well good,” Cain nodded. “I’d love to hear my daughters sing for me. Alright, first song is called ‘All Hail Cain’, and it goes like this--All Hail Cain, and then repeat it a hundred times. Go!”

“Egomania aside,” Emma chuckled as Cain slowly began filling up their plates with food. “Maybe you can finally tell us something about the trio you brought with you? Not many things scare me, C’, but whenever I look into their eyes... it’s like I’m staring into the depths of some bottomless abyss.”

“Well, you kinda are,” Cain replied. “All three are thrice-Awakened Conquerors that could obliterate you all with a fart.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“Ah, don’t worry--they won’t. I’m stronger than them,” he snickered. “They were so awed by me that they’ve chosen to follow me. For now, though, just like me they’ll be sitting on the sidelines.”

“Yes, that explains everything,” Senna rolled her eyes. “You’ve shoot well past us, huh? I was expecting it, but damn, it stings.”

“I fought another King and won and fought some other transcendental beast and won and have unlocked my second Awakening,” he said. “One that I’m yet to take, so no, I don’t have any answers yet. So, yes, I did shoot past you. But you’ll catch up.”

“Highly doubt it,” Emma said. “We pretty much only slept and shat besides pushing the Tower ever since you left and yet look at us. Thin paper compared to you.”

“Well, there’s your issue--you can’t compare yourselves to me,” Cain said. “Unlike you three, I’m a fuckin’ moron. A few brain cells left, at best. All I’m good for is shooting fire and yelling slurs. I need you loves to think for me!”

“What are your plans now?” Emma said while Lana and Senna snickered. “Well, while you and Senna go off to figure out how to kill U’nul, I’ll be spoiling Lana.”

“Really?! You’re gonna let me fight bosses?!!”

“Alright, I guess I won’t be spoiling you.”

“Dammit! Why?! Everyone else is doing it!” Lana grunted.

“... ah, the sentence,” Cain said.

“Yep. She’s been at it for a while,” Emma echoed the sentiment. “Remember when you used it first?”

“I was, what, thirteen? Maybe? Anyway, remember Dirk?”

“Short, bushy eyebrows?”

“That’s the one,” Cain nodded. “Anyway, Dirk wanted to be cool so he told a bunch of ‘cool kids’ and me that he was throwing a party. There was gonna be booze, there was gonna be ladies, there was gonna be all manner of illegal shit, right? Anyway, the party was at 11 at night, so, in order to convince my dad to let me go, I used the line.”

“No way!”

“Hell ye’,” he nodded. “I was all, ‘but daaaad, everyone’s doin’ it’. Color me surprised when the old man didn’t let me go drink and dine.”

“What a prick,” Emma chuckled.

“What about you?” Cain asked while Lana and Senna remained silent. They enjoyed listening on the tales of their parents from the distant past, especially the latter.

“It’s actually tied to you,” Emma replied.

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah. We weren’t dating yet, though,” she said. “It was when Mr. Crabhands put us together for that project on the Bronte sisters. Anyway, I went up to my dad and told him I’d be ‘doing stuff with you at your place’. The prick slapped me so hard I went back in time for a moment,” Senna and Lana shuddered and looked at Emma in horror while Cain shook his head.

“That the time you wore a scarf over your face when we met in the park?”

“Yup. God, I nearly melted on that day. It was so fucking hot. Anyway, when he slapped me, I went all silly and said the good ol’ ‘but everyone’s doin’ it!’.”

“Slapped you again?”

“Thankfully on the same side,” she replied.

“That’s horrible!” Lana exclaimed suddenly. “Grandpa... used to beat you?”

“Us,” Emma said, pointing at Cain and herself. “He used to beat us. Until, one day, Cain broke his nose. He walked on pins and needles every time you came over. On the days when he thought you were angry, he literally locked himself up in his room.”

“... how are you so casual about it?” Senna asked, fire burning within her, as ugly memories of her own youth surged. She’d forgotten, largely because Emma and Cain had fought for her to forget, giving her the home she always dreamed of. But the memories were still there and they still stung as painfully as ever. “Aren’t you... angry?”

“We’re... old,” Emma said, smiling gently and fondling Senna’s hair. “When you’re old, you’re too tired most of the time to be angry. But, we were. God, we were really angry. But we had each other, no matter what else. Whenever Cain knew I got slapped, he rushed to fight the old bull. He told me it was to ‘protect my honor’, but I knew it was because, the next day in school, nobody noticed my slightly bruised eye next to his purple face. Eventually, though, grandpa got old and brittle and all the booze he drank finally caught up with him, and Cain got bigger and stronger. And so, it stopped.”

“... just how many more depressing stories have you got in that bank?” Senna asked, sighing, exhausted.

“A few,” Emma cracked a smile. “But, the thing about the depressing stories is that they all get buried under the weight of happiness. Sure, sometimes they surge up and hurt still. But then... then you see a face, or hear a voice, or just look outside the window... and the thunder rolls over you, and all that sadness... vanishes.”

“Hey, uncool,” Cain called out. “I’m supposed to be the parent who monologues!”

“Oh, I’m sorry--go ahead, please, monologue.”

“... you put me on the spot.”

“No such thing. You love being put on the spot,” she said. “I genuinely think you live for it.”

“So, your daddy’s kind of a God now,” Cain switched the topic. “So, now, officially you two can be pronounced Angels! Isn’t that amazing?!”

“Ugh...”

“Jesus, dad...”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m Jesus, but--”

“No, no, no buts--don’t finish that thought!” Lana said. “You’re not Jesus--full stop! That’s it! You’re... you’re dad! A weird guy with a funny laugh and bad jokes for days!”

“... alright, ouch.”

“But I love you for all of it!” she quickly added.

“Okay, less ouch. Enough, now. I’m actually hungry. Let’s dig in into my speciality--”

“--please let it be something without a ‘daddy’ in its name.”

“--daddy’s McDelicious steak!”

“Haaaah... at least, I suppose, you never change. That’s good, right? Yea, let’s pretend it is. It’s good.”