“I have the target.”

-Grix Bloodshark, Vanguard for the Clean Bite Trauma Team

A shark in Blood Falls is a common sight, though Grix Bloodshark’s circumstances had a few notable differences to those that bear his likeness. For most sharks in Blood Falls belonged to the Blood-Born, and thus were content to move lockstep with the face of said race; the Darah Daging. Grix, however, came from outside of Blood Falls, and indeed no one knew how it was that his egg came to harbor in such a violent place, but his fate was sealed as a familiar three-headed man picked up the glossy bullet-shaped object from the river banks and brought it home with him.

Over the years that followed, the man that would later be known as Trisakti molded Grix into a force of nature, enhancing and sometimes remaking parts of the shark’s body with magic, genetic engineering, and cybernetic enhancements. And that investment had paid off handsomely so far, which earned the shark some leeway in how he deals with things, whether it be by simple bribery or outright murder.

Right now though, what Grix Bloodshark could really use was a time machine, and while he was at it, an A.I. that was specifically trained to learn on how to properly apologize to one’s niece that one thought had been kidnapped by a stranger with dubious intentions. As it was, the mountain of gifts he was currently bearing on his back was a small mercy from the pissed off gal.

“Alright, I’m going to need that row and this row, as well as this, this, and also that.” M’al Mai Chaur spoke to the small army of store attendants surrounding her, with a few breaking off to quickly carry out her orders. Many of them recognized the “Bloody Shark Bastard”—an epithet earned by Grix from one particularly annoyed Darah Daging Commander—and was understandably terrified to climb atop his back, but the store manager’s gaze kept the peons moving and the tower of goods’ height to increase even more.

“Okay, I’m done with this store. Let’s move to the next one.” M’al Mai Chaur quickly moved out without sparing a glance to her poor uncle. Truly, the tribulations of a shark in the Retribution Fields were endless, especially if that shark was Grix Bloodshark.

Trisakti’s daughter went to the only school that accepted the little girl; the Trium Institute for Illustrious Futures. Given who funded it and the members that comprised it, some voiced concerns that a stratified hierarchy of nepotists would form around the higher ranking members of the Trium Illustricate, with upper progression locked out to those from the lower ranks. To that end, several spells and social engineering methods were put in place to anonymize the identity of both the students, the staff, and even the security of the place.

None of this mattered much to Sri, given that she had difficulty remembering people’ names and faces to begin with. Niki and Lula fared little better, with Niki relying more on her sense of smell and Lula simply didn’t care. That being said, some perks of being the only daughter of the Trium Illustricate’ sole ruler was impossible to escape, and one of them was being escorted to said school with a full security detail and having everyone she meets being constantly evaluated and monitored for any “improper” actions, words spoken, or even random stray thoughts they had while talking to Sri.

“Mission time! Mission time! We’re spies on a mission, because! Pew! Pew Pew Pew! Pew Pew!” Sri mimicked sounds of a laser gun she saw on a show she watched just last night, with Niki and Lula looking at her with concern.

“It’s not going to be that simple, Sri. It could be dangerous, knowing what… ‘Father’ deals with at work.” Lula’s face scrunched in disgust as she forced herself to speak the word she thought she’d never speak again.

“Sri. Careful. Not. Cartoon. Real. Life.” Niki circled around Sri with protective intent.

“It’ll be fine. I’m basically an adult now. I don’t even run upstairs without looking back anymore when I turn off the light in the living room. Can you say the same, hmm?” Sri crossed her arms and puffed her chest at her sisters.

“I’m pretty sure I can control darkness, Sri.” Lula said while trying her best not to cringe at her little sister’s behavior.

“Claws. Teeth. Sharp. Chomp.” Niki demonstrated with a couple air bites.

“I know the two of you are the coolest and dad’s favorites, but watch out! Sri is gunning for you.” Sri mimed shooting Lula and Niki with her guns, with the two of them miming getting shot and dying horribly in turn.

All in all, a perfectly normal trio of sisters.

The Retribution Fields had no night save for the areas under the influence of a Godhome. Even then, what constituted “night” differed greatly from place to place. Some decided that night was when the population below were to be culled by roving bands of mindless beasts and fanatics whipped into a religious frenzy. Others thought it meant an impenetrable fog should consume the land and bring forth confusion, death, rewards, and sometimes even good luck to those stuck outside. But what everyone seemed to agree with was that night was the time of darkness, when light fades from sight and shadows reign supreme.

In Blood Falls, this was a problem compounded by a gift no one asked for; a moon crafted from an alien’s corpse. It appeared one night without warning, and its arrival heralded the greatest chaos Blood Falls had ever experienced. It got to the point that deities poured out of Blood Fall’s Godhome and enacted containment purges. By the time everything calmed down, 98.75% of all life in the region had been exterminated from existence. The moon responsible was sunk into the Eternal Sea by the deities, and all seemed well with the world.

Now, night was approachin once more for Blood Falls, and under the black waves of the Infinite Sea, the moon stirred from its slumber. High above it, on the edge of the Godhome, Karistina Larisfin watched the first waves of change extend out into Blood Falls’ shores. Its first appearance was an event before her time, but its reemergence was an opportunity the God couldn’t pass up.

“You, uh, looking forward to it? The moon, I mean.” A man spoke up before Karistina had the chance to make herself scarce. The annoyance that flashed through her face was readily suppressed once she saw who had spoken to her. Clad in gold and blues, with armor that looked more at home in a museum than the battlefield, was one of Blood Falls more infamous figures; Yarast Omegon, the God of Final Mercy.

Unlike most war gods, Yarast believed that conflict as a whole was meaningless and sought to resolve them as quickly as possible, whether by separating the two involved parties away from another physically, letting them vent their anger and frustrations on his imposing body, or by giving days-long, weeks-long, and even months-long lectures that’d eventually either bore the combatants that heard it or make them beg him to stop. Surprisingly, such avenues more often than not have borne fruit, though not for the reasons that Yarast Omegon often proclaimed was why his way worked.

“Not really, to be honest. I’m sorry, I was just leaving.” Karistina turned around and started walking away from Blood Falls biggest political land mine. It took everything she had not to burst into a dead sprint out in the open, and once she took a left turn into an alley and a portal back into her private realm, only then did she let herself exhale the breath she was holding.

“That was a close one. People would’ve thought we knew each other if I had stayed there any longer.”

“That’s too bad. I really do want to get to know you better, Karistina Larisfin.” The God of Minor Scars froze as a blade tore through space. Her worst nightmare walked through the gap made and gave her a smile as brilliant as the sun. Once her shock passed, Karistina immediately summoned everything she had in her and launched a devastating barrage of spells towards the intruding God. She hoped against hope that Yarast would take the hint and leave, but as the dust settled and the God of Final Mercy stood no worse for wear, Karistina slumped to the ground and laughed in despair at her fate.

“Now, now, don’t go breaking on me now. That was a very impressive attack for a shut-in like you. It really scratched an itch I had on my back right here.” Yarast twisted his back towards Karistina and pointed to the point in question. “Real impressive stuff, but I’m sure what you really want to know is why I’m here and what I want from you.”

“That’d be a start, given you’re the one invading my home right now.” The God of Minor Scars willed herself to a nearby chair and sent for some refreshments with a finger snap. “Now, speak your piece, war god. The floor is yours.”

“Thank you for being so understanding, Karistina.” The war god pulled a couch to his side and started lounging on it like a tiger. “I’ve been thinking about the way that I do things, or rather, what I refuse to do in the name of peace. Violence; I’m not a big fan even despite my… history. And you know change is not easily enacted in the eternal world we live in.”

Karistina rolled her eyes as her glass of wine arrived with a selection of grilled hearts and dreams. It seemed the start of yet another one of Yarast Omegon’s lectures, though this one was unfortunately a private affair that the God of Minor Scars could not escape on her own.

“Have you heard about the war god Dumas Absad and the luck goddess Aath Lazit? A completely toxic affair through and through, and it’s a relief they’ve broken up now, but not before they had a son. Micha Ostor was his name, I think? And you think why is anything I say relevant in any way? Well, that child had a curse paired with him, and that curse is why I’m here now, to help you help me find it.” Yarast Omegon spoke as though he was doing the God of Minor Scars a favor.

“You lost me there, Yarast. What about a curse? There’s plenty everywhere. There’s supposed to be several dozen working on you right now when you trespassed, but it might as well be throwing wet blankets at you for all it’s worth.” Karistina finished her glass and not seeing the end of her conversation anytime soon, decided to have the whole wine bottle brought to her instead.

“This curse has stolen part of that godling’s innate power and evolved into a league of its own. It has the power to corrupt destinies, to alter events even when they’ve been set in stone. And it’s only growing stronger even we speak, spreading through Blood Falls as an invisible corruption. Even I can’t fight it, at least not directly.” The last line got Karistina’s attention, as it was unheard of—to her knowledge at least—to hear Yarast Omegon admit being unable to resolve a conflict in his own twisted way.

“How do you know all this? War gods are not usually so well-informed about anything that’s not about conflicts.” Karistina’s wine bottle arrived at last and she took no time at all in taking two big gulps and relaxing further into her seat.

“This blade is not just for cutting. It’s also for getting to the point.” Yarast laughed at his own joke before continuing. “I’ve cut my way into a possible future where that curse became all-powerful, dooming the Retribution Fields and all Godhomes into an eternity of conflict. And it was not content to sit idly by either, as I have seen wicked tendrils probe and tread the paths between universes. The beginning of the end of everything.”

“That’s… a fascinating story, war god. Are you sure you’re not secretly the God of Hidden Lore, are you?” Karistina laughed outwardly even as her mind weighed the truth of what Yarast had spoken. It was easy enough for anyone to lie, and deities lies the most out of everyone else, but a more insidious problem lay with those who truly believes in their own lies. Their conviction shakes faith and creates doubt where none used to live, and the God of Final Mercy utterly believed in what he was saying. It was madness, and not the kind that was usable in any way to the God of Minor Scars.

There was something else that could be used, however, and as Karistina Larisfin took a good long look at Yarast Omegon’s immaculate body, she involuntarily sighed in admiration at the perfection in sight. Before this home invasion, no one sought to use or manipulate the God of Final Mercy because he was so strong and stubborn that no acts of violence could dissuade him nor tactics of subtle persuasion could make him change his mind. It was another thing entirely for the war god to make pleas, however, and Karistina was going to use that opening for all it was worth.

“I see that words are of no use to you, God of Minor Scars. Perhaps you’d wish then to see the proof of my claims, and behold the horror of the future I aim to prevent ever coming to pass.” Yarast Omegon’s hands were on his blade at once, and it was only by Karistina quickly holding her hands up to stop him that the God of Final Mercy stopped.

“Please don’t destroy my house, and let’s just say that I’ll help you even if I don’t believe everything you say. But I have terms that I want you to fulfill in turn for my help.” The God of Minor Scars threw away the empty wine bottle in her hand and walked up to the Yarast Omegon with a slight sway not entirely caused by her inebriated state.

“My first term is for you to lay with me for however many times I wish for the duration of our compact.” Karistina placed her hands against the Yarast Omegon’s abs and marveled at its firmness. “I wish to be satisfied completely, the only way a war god such as yourself can satisfy.” The God of Minor Scars sunk her nails into skin and licked her lips upon seeing blood run free.

“And my second term is for you to protect me at all times from danger, also for the duration of our compact. I do not care how you wish to protect me, only that I never want to feel at any time threatened by any threat that comes my way.” Karistina leaned in closer and had a taste of the war god’s blood. It tasted sweet, like honey.

“And my third and last term, Yarast Omegon, God of Final Mercy-” The God of Minor Scars lifted herself up until she was face to face with the war god. “-is for you to give me your complete trust right up until the very end. Do you accept these terms?” The silence that followed could’ve swallowed the world for all Karistina cared, for the answer that came brought to a head of all her wildest dreams.

“Yes, I do.”