I need air. There is smoke all around me, I'm going to suffocate to death soon. Something big smashed me to pieces, blackness. Relief at last, and then I was back again, choking on the smoke. My heart is racing, the start of a panic attack. Relax dumbass! It is going to be over soon, you are not at the bottom of that lake again, yo-

I started to throw up, choking on my puke. Pure stomach acid, nice. The smoke started to clear a bit. Fuck it. I reached for my dagger and slit my throat. I fell to the floor, drowning in my blood. Wait, that floor, I see faces. No, what? Just close your eyes and wait. I closed my eyes, counting. One sheep over the fence, two sheep over the fence, three sheep over the fence... Soon...

Death, ahhh some rest. Then back to the smoke. Why is it always disappointing when I wake up again? I know it's coming, yet it is still disappointing every time. Shut up and focus! It was still hard to breathe, but I could see a bit better at least. I took a look at the floor and wished the thicker smoke would come back to take my vision again. Corpses, so many corpses. Humans and imps alike, all horrifically mangled into unnatural positions. They all looked at me, judging me.

"STO-" *cough* *cough* "STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT!" I screamed, kicking one of them in the face. The smoke cleared more and my fear grew. More dead, thousands of them. I couldn't see the ground, only mountains of corpses. But I didn't only feel fear, No, no, and it is not the guilt the faces of the dead gave me either. I feel powerful, I feel relief maybe?

The sun shined through the smoke highlighting something shiny among the dead. My smile disappeared. It can't be, it can't be. A helmet the shape of a bucket, dented but still recognizable. A silver mask shattered, its owner's face so brutalized it does not look human anymore. A young woman with light brown skin and big eyes. A little girl, her red hair darker now with the color of dried blood. That's enough. I closed my eyes. I could still smell them, but I tried to ignore the smell.

The sky darkened. Clouds? I didn't open my eyes to answer that question. Rain started to fall on me. I could hear the thunder.

BOOM BOOM BOOM.

No, not thunder.

BOOM BOOM BOOM.

I tasted the rainwater, metallic. Fighting my fear I opened my eyes.

BOOM BOOM BOOM. The sound came from big war drums. It was raining blood. Now that the smoke cleared completely, I could see that I was standing on the highest mountain of corpses. Below me were the tribes of the jungle. Some of them were wearing armor made of bones, some of humans some of different animals. Others were holding corpses from the pile screaming and crying. As soon as I looked at one of them, they stopped and put their head down. I can feel their fear and it adds to my own. They are afraid of me.

"Great and terrible sky father, god of destruction, smith our enemies with furious thunder!" preached the jungle priest with terror in his voice. "I beg you, spare your lowly worshipers, I know that you have mercy. The sky cries for the dead after all."

I tried to speak, to tell them I won't hurt them, but I couldn't breathe and barely any words came out. "I hAyi II Dhoo DOh-" All of a sudden the rain turned into a storm, quickly flooding everything. Before I knew it I literally couldn't breathe as all around me turned into a clear water ocean. I tasted salt in my mouth now instead of the metallic taste of blood as I slowly drown. Something was weighing me down.

I looked at my legs, and I somehow became even more horrified than before. A familiar magical metal ball was attached to my leg. No no no no no on on no. THIS IS NOT EVEN A LAKE THIS TIME. I looked to my sides seeing more people drowning, some were still struggling but most were already unconscious or dead. Lucky bastards. I'm doomed, I'm so doomed. And I was so close to death this time as well. I struggled in frustration yet predictably nothing changed. After a while, I stopped struggling, looking at the void below me.

To my shock, the void turned into a sea of stone men. I had never seen so many of them. People of the old world, forgotten at the bottom of the ocean. At least they are already dead.

It was harder to think. I reached the maximum pain of drowning. PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN PAIN Water was painfully entering my lungs, and for a while, I couldn't focus on anything else. Then I reached the stone men but one of them was different. I didn't recognize it at first but it was Bucket's armor all rusty. And then it started moving. He was still alive in there but couldn't move much only wiggling a bit. His armor looked more like a cage now. PAIN PAIN PAIN. Can't help him now, only the water will by killing him.

Dammit all! pAiN PaIn pAIN PaIN PAIn PAINNNN I was trying to space out as much as I can, but the pain was unyielding and unending. Moving down from a state of pure panic to extreme anxiety from time to time was all I could manage. It felt like an eternity has passed. I tried slowly moving in one direction but it was feeling like I wasn't moving at all, just more stone men. At least I couldn't see Bucket anymore, he was struggling longer than expected, still moving as I last saw him. PAIN PAIN PAIN Don't worry, he is not like you, he will die.

But then I saw something different. It was shining in this shallow ocean. As I got close I knew exactly what it was. It was an elegant silver knife, one of a healer, not a Killer. Or maybe a knife of a torturer. It doesn't matter as it will be the end of my torture. I just knew it was able to kill me, maybe the only thing that can. I struggled as I have never done before. Almost there. I GOT IT! The knife was mine.

All of a sudden I could hear sounds beneath me. I saw people, They weren't stone men, but still alive and drowning. They looked somehow familiar. I could help them before I die. Without warning, a strong current pushed me knocking the knife out of my hand. With panic, I looked for it and saw it washing away from me. The weight on my leg was gone now. I could still get it. Go you idiot, swim! But for some reason I didn't move, not because I couldn't but-

I woke up in my bed confused and disappointed. I looked around, no corpses, no water, no stone men and no knife. A wooden chair, a stone workbench in a simple wooden hut. just my normal room in our new camp. I'm drenched. I took some of the liquid with my finger and tasted it, not metallic like blood or salty like seawater just sweat. SHIIIIIIIT only a fucking dream, I had my own death in my hand and it was just a fucking dream.

"Another nightmare?" said a female voice scaring the shit out of me.

I looked to my right to see Owl looking at me a bit worried. Her clothing barely covered her athletic yet a bit curvy body, full of battle scars. She slowly touched my arm with two of her fingers.

"It is just me dumbass, you are ok," she said, giving me her usual mischievous smile. I feel a bit calmer now. Then she punched me in the shoulder.

"You did good, death is better than being a slave to these crazies and without your bomb trick, we would have never freed the others. If anyone tells you otherwise we will kill them."

It was sweet of her to try and comfort me, but my recent guilt was far from the only thing worrying me. "Relax you little lunatic, the biggest one telling me otherwise is me and I'm immortal remember?"

"Oh well, if punching you won't help I can think of something better to make you forget that nightmare." Her smile was even more mischievous than usual now.

I laughed and grabbed her hand pushing her down on the bed. About 15 minutes later I got out of my hut with a big smile on my face. My nightmare forgotten, at least for a bit. Not paying attention I almost smashed into Inquisitor Francis as he walked towards me with purpose in his steps. The Inquisitor was completely bald, he had a bushy black unibrow, small eyes the color of fire and circles around his eyes that made it look like he never sleeps. No matter what he always looked angry and disappointed with a hint of disgust. But today his face looked different, I think he tried to look friendly but it somehow looked more terrifying than his normal face.

"So, what is my verdict today, Inquisitor?" I said with a smile.

"If I was in charge I would keep you alive, but one miss-step and you would go to the torture chambers, but not forever as I said a month ago, maybe one year," said the Inquisitor matter-of-factly.

Even though he was not in charge right now, it still sent a shiver down my spine. Well, at least my punishment gets better with time. At first, he said he would kill me again and again until I die or until god is resurrected and here to punish me himself. So basically an endless execution. Images of people who tried exactly that flashed through my mind. I took a deep breath. Need to focus now.

"Sooooo umm I, I need your help, immortal," he said in a sheepish tone I never imagined I would hear from him.

"Look, I already told you I'm not going to let your men use me for target practice"

"No, no, that is not what I need you for. I want you to convince Bucket to order the PURGE of those demonic vermin walking among us."

Wow, he is somehow more angry and disgusted than usual.

"Be honest with me Inquisitor, I'm not the first one from the inner circle you came to with this modest request of yours."

"No, the ax-wielding barbarian laughed in my face. He might be a demon himself for all I know. Especially now with his new mutations. His true form revealed the abomination he always was. Even the great masked healer, one of us, refused to help me. So I came to you, the so-called "god of destruction" by the heretical jungle tribe. Show your submission to the true God by your service to me! With that, you may be redeemed one day."

One of the imps named "Stitches" turned out to be a great asset in John and I's research. Even the jungle tribes accepted the imps by now. Seems like Bucket giving them the leading imps to do with as they please and time did the trick. But of course the Inquisitor wanted them all dead, they are literally demons after all.

"I know you are not a man accustomed to compromises, but, if you want to have a chance to spread the belief in your dead god in this region, the Hierarchy who got a huge army has to fall somehow. That means you don't get to choose your allies. For now, you have to suffer the presence of tribes who believe in foreign gods and even demons."

"There is truth in your words immortal, yet it is still hard for me to accept, I need some time to think." With that, the Inquisitor left, mumbling words like "pure heresy" in a grumpy voice.

I took a few steps and looked at the crater my bomb left in the middle of the camp. Rocks and clay blown to pieces, some of it still covered in glowing gold material. For a moment I could see the mountains of corpses from my dream fill the crater. Shut up will you? Look at the edges! New huts made out of shroom wood, we are not only distractive. We also helped build a new camp, this time filled with free people. Stop torturing yourself you piece of shit.

Two jungle warriors passed by me. one with the black leather armor he got from his former captor, the other with the bone armor from my nightmare. They stopped as they saw me and took a knee mumbling a prayer in their language. And just like that, my mind was consumed by my fears again. I did my best to look away clear my mind, and focus on something in the background. All futile, all I could do is try my best not to throw up as flashbacks from my nightmare and from the reality of the distraction I made flooded my mind. Stop thinking, just take action!

I started to descend the crater towards the lab in the bottom. My explosion exposed old ruins from the old world. They were still filled with hundreds of crystal men, eternally stuck in the last position they held before the death of god. As god died a huge explosion of power swept the world turning most of us into crystal or stone sculptures. You could still see the terror on some of their faces, some of them are embracing or crawling into a ball covering their heads.

The ruins were a maze of silver steel and white bricks. The lab was a circular room mostly preserved from the old days. It used to be some sort of lab even back then. In it, we found ancient lab equipment, most of it useless but some was still functioning. Using information I got from the secret library and the help of John and Stitches, we filled the room with tubes and alchemy equipment to brew all kinds of wonderful and horrific things. With the mushroom farms, we had endless ingredients to do with as we pleased.

Getting inside the lab I saw Stitches working and mumbling to himself. The imp was completely bone white and missing one ear. He had scars all over and well, stitches. He could unstitch his limbs and even head and still somehow stay alive, if he is even alive in the first place. Bucket wanted to execute him with the rest of the more high-ranking imps. Stitches were the camp healer and torturer so the freed slaves wanted him dead. I convinced Bucket he was too useful to kill.

As far as I saw it, imps seem to be closer to dogs than humans. They find a master to serve and follow his will without much agency or moral center of their own. By that logic Stitches was just a tool and not to blame. Although it maybe was just my way of justifying keeping him alive even when I felt he deserved to die 100 times for what he did.

"I'm everything, NO, no. I'm nothing, nothing? NOTHING?!? HOW dare I?! Madness-lunacy," mumbled Stitches to himself In his usual anxious yet sharp voice

"How are you doing Stitches?"

"Hey boss, I'm marvelous, despite what the voices say," said Stitches with a face of manic joy. He took a syringe and jammed it in his neck pushing all the unknown liquid in it into his veins. Whatever it was it made him visibly more composed. "We made huge-big progress, yes. With my improvement of your healing brew, we can-can harvest the glowering substance of the beetle-thing and then regenerate it."

"With that and the mushroom farms, we can make endless bombs, bigger ones, more destructive."

"Exactly my clever master. We will be glorious gods! Gods of destruction, horrors. No, no, we will be the best-greatest gods! YEEES."

Seem like whatever Stitches took was starting to wear off. He was back to his ambivalent ravings. It is surprising how functioning he managed to be while being in this state of inner civil war most of the time. I wonder if he was always like that or if imps slowly start to inherit the traits of their master somewhat. From the ones I asked, I know he was always insane, even more so than the normal imp. But was he always so self conflicted?

I took a look at one of the crystal men still in his original position from right before his world ended. He was squatting and seems to be writing something on the wall. The text he left is entirely gone. I wonder if it was something like "Don't repeat our sins". Probably not, maybe "X was here". A vain attempt to keep something of him to stay before he is gone. Well, it was unneeded, here he is, immortal in a way.

Will I help develop weapons that will destroy the world again? Well, what does it matter for you ha? I will be dead soon, and heaven and hell are gone. When I'm dead my corpse won't care what happens with the world. And don't try to hide the feeling of satisfaction in the idea of having a hand in distraction on that scale. We, I mean I know that I'm not just self-destructive, or maybe not? Maybe the destruction outwards is a replacement for self-destruction. Feelings are confusing. Maaan, I need something sweet or alcoholic, maybe both at once.

"I don't want to interrupt your meticulous planning, but what shall we do next?" asked Stitches with anticipation.

"We are going to make bombs and lots of them of course. The Hierarchy may have numbers but we have innovation. Start extracting as much glowing mater- no, Sun Dust as you can."

"YES BOSS, I love the name, Sun Dust, yes."

With that, I left the lab, hearing Stitches' mumblings get quieter and quieter. I didn't leave the ruins yet, I still need to visit the killer. I went to the big room near the lab. I think it was used as a dining hall in the old world, we had to move the crystal man to make room for the growing mass of flesh occupying it now. Muscles and fat with hands and feet small and big growing randomly from it in the body color of random tones. On the bottom, chest, head, and right arm still intact, was Hunter reading a book I gave him about chess. On his head was a crown of flowers Alice made for him so he will feel better. He refused to take it off even though the flowers died long ago.

"Still bored killer?" I asked.

"Extremely"

I got close to the table in front of Hunter and started to prepare the chessboard on it for a new game. I made that set myself using wood and my dagger. It has been years since I had a chess partner. Not many know this game in the new world. Hunter may look like a brute, but he had a talent for strategy. He got to a point of almost winning against me in a short time, and I have years of experience. With that book I gave him, it was just a matter of time before he will turn the tables.

Hunter put down the book and helped me.

"I have new strategies to try, let the kings' hunting begin," said Hunter with a bit more excitement than usual.

"New for you, old for me."

"I will hunt your king successfully one day, old man." Hunter took the first move this time.

"Well, with that odd mind-reading ability you started to develop you may be right."

"Can't read minds, just get the feeling of a soul, read its memories too. But your mind is a confusing labyrinth of old memories and knowledge. You may be able to conjure memories intuitively, but I as an outsider in your mind, have to work harder. Besides, I can't tell the difference between memories from dreams, fantasies, and reality."

"Not yet. The bigger you get the stronger that ability becomes. Who knows what new terrifying abilities you may yet develop."

"Is your old age finally getting to you? I already told you I can't get any bigger. If I didn't learn to stop the growth my body would have started to consume my soul. Even at that size, I can feel the strain on my soul."

"If you weren't so stubborn we could have cut you out of that flesh blanket of yours, starting your growth from a small size again, this time outside."

"I will get outside by myself when I can control my body again. Besides, I can use that flesh to potentially build a new giant body."

That got his pride, distracted him, and he made a wrong move. Or maybe it was just a trap, can't know for sure with him.

"Ha, maybe if you become a murderous giant, the tribes will see you as their god of destruction instead of me."

"I can feel your fear of becoming that "god of destruction", that and something else, some sort of pain"

"Unfamiliar to you? You cold killer, it is regret and maybe a bit of shame."

The killer laughed and took his next move. "I may know regret even better than you, as old as you are."

"What is your biggest regret then?"

"You first." He said with a smile moving his queen to attack.

"Fine fine, I will go first." So many regrets, Not helping a certain group, helping the wrong man, trusting in others too much, Isolating myself for years out of pathetic fear. I did some good if I can even know what is "good" anymore. I had some fun. But compared to the struggle and pain, it is just not enough, lacking focus maybe. No, no, I know what it is.

"I regret not finding a purpose in my long life to justify the struggle of it. Did I just suffer for nothing at all?" I said finally.

"Maybe not regret but deep fear. You feel it now because your end is finally near."

"Ha, you may be rig- no, you are right. But why? God is gone, and so is heaven and hell, death is the end. it doesn't matter if I found a meaning to justify my pain or not, death will take it all. The pain and the worry about it and any meaning found or not found. Even if I left a mark on the world that will live after I'm gone, my corpse will not care."

Hunter took a moment to think. "But you are not a corpse yet. As long as you live you still care. More than that, you want to die because it will remove the pain and struggle, yet maybe you are not ready to die because you didn't find a meaning to justify it."

"So I want to die to stop the pain but I'm not ready to die because I didn't find a meaning to that same pain? That is kind of stupid"

"Humans are not logical, or at least way less so than we like to pretend we are. You should know that by now, old man."

"Yes, I know." I caught a mistake he made, taking his bishop.

"That is the regret, now the shame. I think you are ashamed that you liked the destruction you made." He pressed the attack going for my king. "destruction of a strong foe can be very meaningful, not as a base sadistic joy of the act itself but the knowledge that you destroyed something powerful."

"Ha Ha, the inquisitor may be right about you" I will win in 3 moves. "You may be right about me liking it, but I don't think I will find meaning on that path. Destruction is just a tool for me, to get to the real target I want to destroy."

"It is your life, your choice. Still, a shame that you chose to hunt yourself."

Checkmate.

"Another game?"

"Of course, these games of ours are the only thing keeping me from going insane, that and-"

Before we could even move one piece to restart the game, Bucket entered the hall with two big barrels on his shoulders. Since we took over the camp he upgraded his armor. It still looked like the random pieces of scraps it was, but now it had parts of black and white metal, especially in the chest plate. Its shape also looks more elegant, curvy to make sword slashes and maybe even arrows bounce off it. I wanted to make him a cape but he said capes are stupidly impractical in battle. Well, he didn't have to wear it to battle. No, shut up you, late it go.

"Time for a drink boys," he said with infectious enthusiasm.

"Do you have something new for me?" said hunter with enthusiasm you hear so rarely in his voice.

Normally Hunter can't get drunk or even tipsy. His body was immune to alcohol like many other poisons.

But with a mix of extremely poisonous mushrooms for a normal man and the expertise of Bucket in the art of brewing beer, we made beer together that even gets Hunter drunk. I didn't mean to make him a drink at the time, I tried to make a chemical weapon. I used a still-alive piece of Hunter's flesh to test it. I failed successfully.

"Yes, John said it is extremely deadly, I think you will love it," said Bucket putting down one of the barrels having a crude red skull drawn on it.

Hunter took the barrel, drinking straight from it. Seeing this cold killer so genuinely excited about something new like a little kid is strangely adorable. I got my mug from under the table and filled it up. Not the best I had but still pretty good.

"I never asked you 8, what is the best drink you ever had?" asked Hunter with a sinister smile.

And he said he can't read minds yet. That aside, it is a good question. Alcohol and other drugs can take my pain away, at least for a bit and I don't suffer the physical part of addiction, can always kill myself and get a new body. "I had so many different kinds that I can write a book on the topic for a year straight and I will still not mention half of them." I took a moment to scan my many memories of good drinks. "Maybe a wine from the old world I found stuck in a time-stopping anomaly. NO, I have a better one. There is that one old woman who can make a drink made out of pure happiness or something. Well, but it required human sacrifice to prepare."

After more thinking, I said "No, I know the best one. There is a wandering old man that will offer you his blood saying it is the best drink in the old and the new world. He is not some con man or mad man for his words are the truth. Even a drop of his blood will give you a feeling 1000 times better than an orgasm."

"And what is the price?"

"Well, weeks later after the old man is long gone, the skeletons of the ones who enjoyed his blood come to life."

"What does that mean?" asked Bucket, his famous helmet already off, drinking his mug in one go and filling it up again.

"Their skeletons tore their way out of their flesh and started walking, towards what destination? Who knows."

"This world is filled with way too many horrors, just the more reason to enjoy a mug of beer with friends when you still can."

A knight of justice, a cold killer and a suicidal immortal, an odd group of friends. Well, it fits this chaotic world I guess. I almost forgot how nice it feels to relax in the company of friends.

"You know, I wish I could have stayed drunk forever," I said, refilling my mug.

"Aren't we all? Old man."

"No, but specifically for me, it makes me for just a little while truly calm. Like taking a vacation from myself."

"What's a vacation? Like taking a break?" asked Hunter.

"Something Like that."

"Being at war with an enemy you can't kill or flee from is extremely exhausting," said Bucket. "Maybe you can find a way to make peace between the different sides of yourself. Not out of love for each other but out of necessity. Or at least make them talk to each other for a change, not trying to dominate the others."

"I don't know, It is like trying to make an inquisitor and a wild demon sit and talk instead of trying to tear each other to pieces." We made war for literal years, is peace even possible with that much bad blood? "I will think about it."

After a moment of silence, Bucket said "Being a leader is, complicated." He took a deep sigh. "It used to be simpler for me, to help people how I can then move on. Now my decisions influence many people at once, some of them are bound to harm at least someone. The jungle tribe wants the imps punished for what they did to them, which is understandable, but we can use them in the war and even save some of the lives of our troops in the process."

He stopped to take a drink and then continued. "Do we even want to stay here? It is a good defensive position, but the hierarchy knows we are here. We can fill it up with bombs and go deep into the jungle. Use the camp as a trap. Yet, the jungle is dangerous and the jungle tribes are xenophobic. Speaking with Thunder-Crow it seems they were wary of strangers even before they meet the hierarchy."

"The right decision is not so clear anymore, too many variables," I say.

"Yes, exactly."

"You are not alone you know"

"The old man is right, we are here to advise you, to take some of the responsibilities of leadership off your shoulders. For better or worse we are in this together."

Bucket laughed. "Let's raise a glass to our strange alliance then!"

"To our strange alliance." I raised my mug and so did Hunter.

"To our strange alliance."

After a bit of time, I started to feel that I need to pee. "Hey bucket, do you have your mace thingy nearby? I need to pee, too lazy to go outside."

"Ha? yes yes, one sec." He got out of the hall and came back with his mace in hand. He clumsily hit the wall flipping the little switch on it. As soon as the portal opened we both froze.

Beyond the portal looking straight at us and sitting on a tower of giant bones, was an old man. We seemed to be pretty shocked as well. He had a cloak made out of deep green scales. His white hair was messy and his skin burned from the sun.

Looking at how shocked we seemed Hunter asked "What is it?"

"Bucket, can you close the portal for a sec?" I asked politely.

"Yeeees, I can" He closed the portal.

"Good, now we wait a bit"

"Come on old man, WHAT IS WRONG?" asked Hunter angrily.

The alcohol made him more emotional than usual. "Just be patient like the great hunter you are"

As far as Bucket knows the forest beyond the portal is uninhabited. Was he wrong or did it change? Maybe the old man is one of Bucket's victims, still alive, waiting years for vengeance. So many possibilities, so many questions.

I picked up one of Hunter's axes. "Ok, now open it again."

This time, there were three young men. They were unarmed and knelt as soon as they saw us. They had the same kind of cloak the old man had but in different colors. The man in the middle had gold scales on his cloak the others black. Their heads were shaved and had odd shapes. The man in gold had a big dent on the back of his head. The one to his left had a dent on the left side of his head. And the one to his right had some sort of burns all over his face and many claw scars.

Before we could react, the one in gold spoke "I may be blind, but I can feel your magnificent aura. Mace Father you came back for us, just like the prophecy told." The blind priest had tears in his eyes.

"Hic, by Mace Father you mean me?" asked bucket in confusion, trying and failing to stop his laughter.

"We are the sons and daughters of Worm the Prophet. With holy violence you blessed him with knowledge of your holy plans. But now you are here to commend us yourself. Use us like you use your mace."

"Bone!" Said the man to the left with the wisdom of an old scholar.

"Very true Bone The Wise, couldn't have said it better myself," said the priest.

Hunter snickered in the background.

I'm too drunk for this. I used the axe to slit my own throat. A couple of minutes later I was back, naked and sober. The men in the portal looked at me with awe.

"Magnificent, you are The Infinite One," said the burned man. When his shock died down his face of awe changed. Even with his burns and scars, his deep confusion was clear. "Wait, your member is surprisingly average-sized for a god of fertility."

I burst out laughing. God of fertility ha? Ironic considering I'm sterile.

The blind priest hit the burned man in the face. "We do not judge the divine, we accept it with blind faith."

The burned man turned to Bucket with fear. "Mace Father, forgive me for I have sinned." He bowed deeply.

Bucket drunkenly stepped forward and grabbed the man. The man screamed for his life probably expecting divine punishment. Instead, Bucket hugged him. "I forgrib- forgive you. Come drink with us! It is my order as your god dad." He dropped the burned man on his face going for the barrel to get more drinks.

And so The Children of The Mace joined their father in drinking and laughing. I had many questions for them, like how much time has passed from the times of Worm The Prophet? I and Bucket threw him into the portal maybe half a year ago, according to the moon cycles. But with the state of the world now the moon was not a reliable source anymore. The moon may change its shape at different lengths of time or not change at all in some places. Days and nights may have different lengths in different places as well. To my surprise, it has been many generations for them. Time moved away faster in the forest beyond the portal than Bucket thought. Or maybe the time there was not stable. Slowing and increasing in speed compared to the rest of the world.

Another more practical question was about their fighting capabilities. Apparently, they had thousands of warriors. Their weapons were primitive but the armor they made from the local giant lizards was surprisingly effective. With these fanatics and my bombs, we may actually survive the counter-attack of The Hierarchy. If we saw that we are losing we could also just retreat into the portal and destroy it. We would be trapped there but it was way better than being trapped in the dungeons of The Hierarchy.

The destruction I will bring in this war made me excited and scared. Focus! It is no time to fear my destructive side or cry for the future or past dead. I have lots of work to do. Time to go back to the lab.