249, 1/2

Erick stood with Quilatalap on a barren road between two immense stretches of golden wheat, under a black sky that was Darkness Itself. Erick wore black, which Erick rapidly realized was a very bad look for him at this particular moment, while Quilatalap also wasn’t doing anyone any favors with his black fullplate and his eyes shining white.

A soft wind blew across the fields, carrying with it the scent of storms… Or maybe the white shield upon Erick’s left arm was making that ozone/petrichor smell. The Lightning Shield crackled with white sparks from each of its five points—

And Erick realized something else about it at that moment.

Prior to its rescue from the Breaking, the Lightning Shield had been sparking mad, trying to escape from the [Abyssal Bubble Cage] the Shades had used to imprison it. And then, it had come to Erick. When Erick put the Shield on his left wrist it had seemed to lock into place in the air, floating against his very soul and arm and body like it was his own [Animadversion] silver-spike all-Reflection shield, and it was calm. No sparks. No worries at all. It was just there, weightless and protective in ways that Erick did not know it could be protective.

But it was sparking again.

Erick wasn’t sure how he knew what the Shield was feeling, but it felt as though the Shield was fending off an attack… or preparing for an attack? Erick had no real way to know.

He did know that the Shield was angry. Erick could relate. He was furious, too. Not nearly as angry as Quilatalap, of course. But still angry.

High Priestess Tiza Nindi was here, instead of waiting outside for an official ceremony to transfer the Shield into the hands of Sininindi’s church so that they could better prepare against the Prophesied Storm. She looked smug, too, and that pissed Erick off rather a lot. For a brief moment, Erick imagined his fury had risen to the level of Quilatalap’s, but then Erick’s fury went back down to an acceptable level.

Sailor Asmus at least looked contrite, as he walked with Tiza and the other person down the road, toward Erick and Quilatalap. The professional side of Sininindi’s Church was supposed to be part of the transferal ceremony, too, so in that way, it made sense for him to be here.

But what the fuck was Oozy Stormcaller doing here?

And why the fuck did he have a Benevolence ring around his neck?

Erick, as always, tried to approach the coming probably-problems with dignity and understanding.

He had to walk a bit faster than decorum demanded, though, because Quilatalap was walking angrily and fast. According to Quilatalap, whatever these three intruders had done to get into this dungeon had included violence of some sort. Erick’s limits for that sort of thing were a lot higher than Quilatalap’s right now.

But he would still get to the bottom of this.

The only real question to ask and answer before this confrontation started, was did he want to tell Quilatalap about the Benevolence ring? That fact would completely derail this entire conversation, overshadowing everything, and it needed to be said, but it also meant that Quilatalap’s chances to control the coming conversation rapidly diminished.

But, of course, he had to tell Quilatalap.

Quilatalap would understand.

Erick whipped a [Hasted Shelter] around them along with some Privacy magics to make the [Hasted Shelter] unrealized to the outside world, as he said, “Oozy Stormcaller, the third one, was [Reincarnation]ed by me months ago. I told you that story already. How he has the red bones and an odd [Reincarnation] and a [Blessing of Empathy]. Well now he’s here and there’s a Benevolence ring around his neck.”

Quilatalap had stopped when Erick cast his spellwork. He listened. He sighed deeply. Then he said, “Fuck— Okay… Let’s just kill them all— Oh come on. They don’t have to stay dead. I’m just giving options.”

“… Thank you for walking that response back so quickly.” Erick moved on. “He may be here to help protect against the Prophesied Storm, which would explain the ring—”

“Sometimes I wish you could have made your Benevolence markers a mark of assassination.”

Erick just stared at Quilatalap. He could not believe that Quilatalap would ever say such a thing, for if Benevolence worked that way it would be open season on every person ever Marked by Benevolence, which would then cascade into disaster after disaster, or misunderstanding after misunderstanding, leading to the complete collapse of Benevolence as a ‘thing that is wanted’. It would get Erick hunted by Rozeta and all the gods of the Pantheon. It would get Benevolence Banned. Holding his own anger in check, Erick almost straight-up asked Quilatalap if he was ‘Erick’s’ Quilatalap, but that seemed improper; too much. So, for a long moment, Erick was stunned.

Quilatalap frowned down at Erick, saying, “What.”

“… If you can’t tell me why what you just said was deeply troubling, then I am going to start to think something fucky is happening right now.”

Quilatalap jolted a little. “… What?”

Erick frowned. “What you… Just said?”

“What did I just say?” Quilatalap asked, scrunching his face at Erick.

“That sometimes you wished I could have made Benevolence markers a mark of assassination.”

Quilatalap winced. “I did not actually say that; don’t go policing my thoughts, now.”

“… Did you not say it? Because I heard you—” Erick glanced through the mana, to the past, while speaking in the present, “I see you said the words.” He came back fully to the moment. “Do you not remember?”

Quilatalap frowned a little. “I did not say those words. I am looking at the past right now, and I did not say them. I might have thought about them occasionally but I would never say them, because I know how that would go; a short benefit to all, and then crashing horror and a Forgotten Campaign and a Banning… I think I might have subvocalized them. This whole thing with… These people.” Quilatalap turned his sight outward, to the land beyond the Private space. “It takes a lot to get me angry, and I think these people have done that. Can we talk about my thoughts on Benevolence markers later?”

“… Sorry, Quilatalap.” Erick knew what he saw, but he wasn’t going to make a big deal of it right now. “Maybe I am upset, too. Do you want to take a moment and speak to the dungeon?”

Quilatalap blinked. “Yes. Absolutely. One second.” He closed his eyes and began channeling mana to speak to the dungeon.

It would take him longer than normal since there was a heavy time dilation between this Private space and the dungeon space, so Erick just waited, having a think of his own. Quilatalap was probably a whole lot angrier than he let on. He had said that these three people from the Church of Sininindi would have needed to break through extensive defenses to breach this far into the dungeon which had included ‘guardians’ of some sort. Quilatalap could probably revive them… But they would likely never be the same. People often weren’t the same after reviving, for death was a massive trauma. Most delvers who experienced the [True Resurrection] that most dungeons had these days went on to forswear ever delving again. And maybe they could try delving again later when their soul healed and they felt up to the challenge and reward again. People with souls, as living beings, could heal their souls; they could heal that soul trauma. Undead had to fix their trauma themselves, and sometimes undead guardians with very complicated, sapient souls, needed to be rebuilt from the ground up. This perma-killed the undead—

Quilatalap came back to himself and he was angrier than before. His eyes flickered with the red of Carnage as his Rage slipped out. He maintained, though, pushing his Rage down.

He simply said, “It’s worse than I figured. They have killed the repros of me that were Vanya and Soltic. They have instituted a repro of Tiza into the dungeon core. That repro is still regaining consciousness, but they have used an artifact of Time to speed up the process. She is functioning at 75% effectiveness. Tiza-2 is functionally in charge of this entire dungeon now, though she’s only been at it for an hour or two; only as long as we were back there in the Shadow Dungeon, recovering the Shield. They’re going to attack us as soon as you lower this Privacy.”

Erick skipped right past being surprised and a whole bunch of other emotions and went straight to furious—

Quilatalap continued, “They have likely found our house. If not, then it is only a matter of time. And so, I have instituted the self-destruct sequence on our house. I am leaving this dungeon with you, Erick. We’re not confronting them.” As he spoke, he vented his Rage. With a calm, centered voice and psyche, Quilatalap said, “We’re leaving.”

Erick took a moment to calm himself, too.

Quilatalap needed several more moments anyway. He turned his gaze outward, at the dungeon he had worked so hard to make. At the bridges he had tried to build. Erick watched as Quilatalap silently wondered if it was all for nothing, if there was never any hope of being allowed to live openly on Veird, and if Sininindi had been fucking with him and how badly she had been fucking with him. A hundred other unsaid questions passed through the large man as he cast his sight across the golden wheat fields and at the rest of the frozen world out there, while time passed incredibly fast in here, in this [Hasted Shelter] and other magics.

Erick said, “I would have you escape, please. I need to confront them.”

“Sure.” Quilatalap said, “Confront them outside of the dungeon, though. Tiza-2 is gleefully plotting how to fuck you up if you confront the original here.”

“Prudent. Which way is the fastest escape?”

“Unless we’re in Storm Lockdown, any sort of declaration that you want to leave right now would work, but such an action would place you outside on the valley floor, in the center of the largest, open space. Tiza has likely accounted for that, but even so the ‘largest open space’ is still at least a second of safety. It’s safer than staying here.” Quilatalap held out his hand to Erick, saying, “Let’s both go at the same time. You can leave this Privacy here.”

“Could she have rerouted the escape clause?”

Quilatalap paused, his hand still held out. He dropped his hand. “I will need to check on that.” He focused on Elemental Book again. Slowly, grey magic seeped out of him, into the world.

Erick waited.

An escape clause was an emergent thing that every dungeon had hard-coded into it, because [True Resurrection] needed a place to put the revived person, and that place to put a person had to be a safe zone, and that space often became the very same escape zone that people could evacuate to. So the designation of that space, and what it meant, was one of the things that people could change if they thought to do it, and Quilatalap would have thought about that. The escape clause at the Benevolence Dungeon could be rerouted, for sure; sometimes it went to the entrance if the revived or escaped person still had lives left, and other times it went to a secure holding room if the person was on their last life so that they knew that continuing in the dungeon would kill them.

All escape clauses could be rerouted.

Later, he would ask Quilatalap if the big guy was feeling okay, because while Quilatalap was obviously furious he almost never made small, easily overlooked but very large mistakes like he was making now. Normally, a question of safe direction like Erick had asked would have been met with ‘the escape clause is secure, and if it is not then we’re fucked beyond fucked, so let’s go out blazing from that location anyway’. Or maybe he would have a better idea—

“The escape clause is secure,” Quilatalap said, coming back to himself. “Tiza 2 is getting deep in the Rules right now but she’s only been able to enact a few. Benevolence is subdued. Lightning and Divine magic are heightened. I believe she is planning on fighting here.”

Erick held out his hand. “Then we fight elsewhere and I open with words, not [Grand Fireballs].”

Quilatalap put his hand into Erick’s. “I would like to hear—”

A shadow stood up from the floor.

It was Verrod of Vast Skies, Champion of Melemizargo. He had put away the speedo and donned a black suit that was several centuries out of date.

Erick inhaled, and then let out a shuddering sigh of complete annoyance. He had thought that Verrod had simply been Melemizargo looking in on current events, but nope! It was worse than that. It was a Shade that should have never come back to life, and yet here he was. Was it just him? Or did the other Shades escape from the Breaking Ritual, too?

Verrod grinned as he saw Erick’s turmoil. “I’m supposed to accept a [Blessing of Empathy] to be allowed in this world. Give it to me, Erick Flatt, Fire of the Age, and be prepared to give more to others—”

Quilatalap scowled at him, demanding, “Who did you bring with you.”

“A few assorted accomplices. They’ve already left this ‘dungeon’, by the way. I stuck around because My God demanded I stick around, and so here I am. Initially, when you left the Breaking Ceremony, I suspected I knew about 90% of what all of this was all about, but that number is steadily decreasing. I’m at around 5% comprehension at the moment.” Verrod said, “Destroying the ‘Shadow Dungeon’ as we left was rather cathartic in a few ways, though.”

That was not nearly a good enough answer for Quilatalap.

Verrod noticed, smirking even wider, his expression turning truly gleeful.

“How many of you are there?” Erick asked, keeping his rage out of his voice.

“Around 15 of us survived that absolute purge. It’s enough.” Verrod held out a hand, saying, “Get on with the Empathy, Erick.”

“You’re going to be out of commission for a while and Rozeta is going to have words with you and I am going to have words with you and a whole bunch of other shit is going to happen at my discretion. You are to report to Ascendant Mountain which was probably called ‘Infamy’ back in your day; it is the largest of the Three Sisters, southwest of mainland Quintlan. That is where Melemizargo now makes his main home. Do not go to Ar’Kendrithyst.” Erick asked, “Do you agree to both the wording and spirit of these declarations?”

Verrod stared hard at Erick, his joyful smile fading slightly, and then altogether. He almost dropped his hand, but then he did not. And then he put aside his anger, and said, “I agree.”

Erick slapped his hand with a [Blessing of Empathy].

Power flooded into Verrod, breaking down his soul and rebuilding him from the core outward, like the flexing of a sphere, turning it briefly to sand and then back to solidness. Small tears gathered in his eyes like liquid light. Those tears fell from his stoic face, leaving behind tracks of illumination that dried fast, turning to flaking ash, before fading away in the manasphere.

He didn’t collapse, though.

“… I’m impressed, Verrod.” Erick said, “All the Shades I’ve ever done that to have broken down into sobbing messes—”

Verrod broke down into a sobbing mess, going down to his knees and then down to the ground. He turned halfway to shadow as he sunk deeper and deeper.

Erick softly said, “I am going to take care of you, Verrod, but you have come into this real world at a very difficult time.” Verrod turned a little more solid. Erick added, “I truly hope you didn’t scatter threats throughout this dungeon and elsewhere in your escape from the Shadow side of things—”

“Oh Holy Dark,” Verrod said, his grey face seeming to turn white as horror dawned within. He was on his feet again. “I made a mistake. I did not follow My God’s command as well as I should have.”

Erick was not surprised, but too much was going on right now to deal with this. “What happened?”

“… I have some Shades to cull— Oh. Okay.” Verrod breathlessly jolted as his emotions did something turmoil-ish inside of him. He softly said, “I don’t think I could kill anyone like this. Even the thought…” His voice trailed away.

Erick said, “We’re leaving the dungeon now and you’re going to fix your mess, Verrod. Ask the other Shades to help you. Quilatalap and I have to deal with this Storm Church mess. Everyone ready to escape?”

Quilatalap glared down at Verrod, his eyes full of uncomfortable concern. “… I’m ready.”

Verrod breathed and regained his composure. “Ready.”

“Quilatalap. Your go,” Erick said.

Quilatalap spoke to the air, “Emergency dungeon exit right fucking now. I’m not joking. Escape, escape es—”

The world flickered black—

– – – –

—and then came back together under a blue sky surrounded by thick clouds and the sun shining right down through the center of them, like Erick, his boyfriend, and the hanger-on Shade, were at the bottom of a massively large well. They were on the northeast-ish floor of the dungeon valley, standing upon solid stone, far away from everything. There was no attack. There had been no diversion to another location. They were in the real world, for Ophiel was already out here and flying far and wide, showing Erick everything Erick wanted to see.

And so, the first thing Erick did was to ask Verrod, “Where are the other Shades?”

Fallopolis and Goldie stepped out of nearby shadows. Fallopolis glanced at Verrod then said to Erick, “We’ll be taking him if you would be so kind, Erick.”

“Gladly.” Erick asked Fallopolis, “Have you found the others who escaped?”

“We have found 16 of them. They’re already at Ascendant Mountain, for My God is taking a heavy hand in this reintroduction.” Fallopolis strongly requested, “We humbly ask that you Empathy them when you get a chance.”

“I’ll be doing that when I can.” Erick felt a certain weight fall off his shoulders as he watched nothing too untoward happen in the world, and as Fallopolis seemed to be in command, even though she wasn’t…

Erick paused.

Verrod had been the Champion of Melemizargo back in the Breaking Ritual. His soul had shone like the most iridescent white/black thing that Erick had ever seen, but it was still nothing compared to Melemizargo himself. It was more like a fraction of Melemizargo’s power, put into a very small person.

That’s what Verrod-the-Champion had looked like.

He did not look like that anymore. He looked like a normal Shade, or maybe worse. Like a tattered soul.

Erick paused as he Looked at Fallopolis. And then he turned his All-Seeing Eye up to full blast. Fallopolis was strong of soul and body, and her soul was iridescent black/white.

Goldie and Verrod, by comparison, looked like a normal Shade and a severely weakened Shade.

Erick said to Fallopolis, “I didn’t think Championships could be moved around like that.”

Fallopolis tried not to grin, but when it was apparent she was failing that attempt, she let it happen. “I promise to be the same Fallopolis you have known all this time, Erick.” And then she waved her black kendrithyst staff at the air at her side and a whirlpool of black appeared. “Come along now, Verrod. A lot has happened since your time, and you and I are going to have a talk about how many Shades you actually brought back.”

“It was 47,” Verrod said, distraught and rapidly. “Most of them were the crazy ones. I released them to soften up whatever was out here or get killed and make it easier for the rest of us.”

Erick almost roared—

“I am handling it, Erick.” Fallopolis requested, “Please let me handle—”

Golden lightning flickered across the northern sky like a dragon fluttering fast through the clouds.

Fallopolis jerked her finger toward Verrod. “Into the gate!” She shouted to the world. “All of you!”

Verrod moved fast as a shadow, into the black. Without warning and for a kilometer around, 27 other shadows coalesced out of the nearby air, rising from the ground halfway as they rushed forward, the glowing white eyes of Shades of every race the only thing they showed of themselves as they bowed to Erick and Fallopolis on their way past, into the portal.

Goldie requested, “I would like to stay for this, my lord.”

“Granted.” Erick said, “We got a Ringer, Goldie. Keep an eye out.”

Fallopolis shuddered, muttered about how she was glad she didn’t have to deal with that, and then she bowed a fraction before she vanished into the black portal.

Goldie remained, standing resolute in the news of a Benevolence ring spotting, her black sword floating behind her, her black leathers and that giant sword looking especially menacing in the bright sunlight. She was ready for anything.

Erick glanced to Quilatalap and saw that the man was gripping his Void spear strongly; he was ready, too.

Erick stood ready to receive whoever might show. He was flanked by one Shade and one not-Shade, with the Lightning Shield upon his left arm and Ophiel in the sky— In a moment of clarity, Erick sent a telepathic message to House Benevolence, to Poi, detailing everything that had just happened.

Ten seconds later, Poi’s voice came to him, ‘I’m sending some reinforcements, and I will have them hold up at the gatehouse. Aisha and Teressa are looking into the Benevolent Sky. I will have their report in a minute.’

‘Send it along when you can. Please inform Solomon and Kromolok of Tiza’s happenings. I am not requesting physical help from either of them, but I do want their input. Inform them of the Shades but leave the new Shade problem to Fallopolis for now. I want the Mind Mages to track any massive Shade problems from any of the escaped Shades, and I will be fixing those problems later.’

‘Understood. Sending messages now— The Throne is responding. Mind Mage Rodrygo is asking for a lessening of hostilities as he tries to coordinate with his people to find out what happened.’

‘I’m standing here, Poi. Waiting.’ Erick thought for a second, and both sent his next thought, and spoke it for the convenience of Goldie and Quilatalap, “Tell the Throne about non-secret information of what happened in the dungeon with Tiza, and what we suspect happened. After what she pulled, I want to know what is going on in Storm’s Edge before she comes out and talks to me.”

Goldie softly asked Quilatalap what happened, and Quilatalap started talking small words.

Erick waited for Poi to get back to—

‘Did you lend out a [Benevolence Detector] ring earlier today?’

Erick felt a good handful of terrible emotions at that moment. Yes, he had lent out a ring. Number 7 out of the bunch. ‘Wiloza Tidewalker has it. The records should show that.’

‘That’s the problem. We don’t know who that is. We can’t find the ring either. It’s gone.’

“… You don’t know who Wiloza Tidewalker is?” Erick asked, also sending that as he spoke the words—

The world flickered red.

– – – –

Shades vanished through a black gate and Fallopolis followed.

And Erick realized he had been here before.

He remembered everything of how he had communicated with Poi, and how Wiloza and the [Benevolence Detection] ring #7 was gone, and how he had tried to inform the whole world of what was going down here, but how time had been reversed, just like how it had been reversed in the Breaking Ritual zone. Back then Erick hadn’t been fully aware of what was happening.

But now, he was aware.

He almost opened his mouth to speak his concerns—

But a distinct, inexplicable feeling of wrongness and terror and aversion held his tongue, drawing out the moment long enough for him to realize that something fucky was happening, and Benevolence itself was telling Erick ‘do not do this’. It was a sixth sense. It was something that rarely happened, but when it did, Erick listened.

He adjusted his thoughts.

He plotted a course forward…

And the feeling vanished.

Erick sent to Poi, ‘I have experienced a problem. I cannot tell you about a lot of it right now, but I think, if I do this correctly, then nothing horribly bad will happen. Just tell Teressa and Aisha to check on the Benevolent Sky. I also want the Mind Mages to help find the Shades that were released by Verrod. Here’s a packet on that.’ Erick sent Poi information on the ‘47’ released Shades, and how many of them were already with Fallopolis on Ascendant Mountain. ‘I don’t believe any of those specific numbers, so make of that what you will.’

‘… Okay. Done. The alarm is half-raised over here. Can you give me more than that?’

‘I do not believe that is wise right now. I will probably go incommunicado shortly. Please give me Teressa and Aisha’s recommendations before that. Also, tell the Sea Foam Throne to get Tiza, Asmus, and Oozy out here.’

‘Done. I’ll be in touch.’

Erick nodded.

There. This felt more stable, for some reason. Erick wasn’t sure, but he had a very sneaking suspicion that this was the anti-meme in full effect, and it had some sort of [Return] power, and some sort of personhood-erasing power since Wiloza was missing, and also… as he had those thoughts, and as nothing happened, he was pretty sure that he had… become immune somehow? Erick wasn’t sure on that part, but he was rather sure that the anti-meme couldn’t read minds.

And yet, why didn’t Debby just tell Erick about the anti-meme through [Telepathy]?

Oh. Well.

Well, maybe the anti-meme couldn’t read minds, but it could certainly alter time and space, so all it did was check on people through the time stream and then alter time based on what those people did when they knew about it, or spoke aloud—

Ah.

Wiloza was a disappeared person now. Speaking her name was tantamount to throwing chum in the water…

Erick was rather angry, but he could pretend that Wiloza did not exist, even though, logically, that was simply fucking crazy. Every major power in the world had an archmage on staff, or at least on call. And Wiloza had a lot of family, didn’t she? That’d be a lot of memories to erase… Except it wasn’t erasing memories, was it?

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

Oh.

It was altering reality itself.

… Maybe the Red Leviathan wasn’t controlling ‘time’. Maybe it was controlling multiversal dimensions, like a god could control reality, like how Melemizargo had turned Erick into a centaur, and then a fairy, and then a book, that one time, except that’s not what Melemizargo had done at all. He had translated Erick into a new reality.

Perhaps the anti-meme was doing the same to disappeared people; tuning reality itself toward a desired outcome…

Maybe.

It was a working theory.

Another working theory was to not upset the cart too much and thus the anti-meme wouldn’t upset him with more ‘time reversals’—

Poi’s voice came to Erick, ‘The Prophesied Storm is either happening in the next hour or in four months. What do you want to do?’

Archipelago Nergal was home to 22.5 million people.

Erick’s answer was instant, but he took the time to speak as well as send his message, “The dungeon is absolutely not ready to handle the future where the Storm happens right now, and so, I am going to give up a lot of ground here to make sure the Storm happens four months from now.”

Moments passed.

Goldie was loose and ready for war.

Quilatalap grunted, forcing his Rage to gutter at that moment.

Poi replied, ‘Looks like… it’s still up in the air a little, but the distant time frame is slightly more solid.’

‘Thank you, Poi. Give me live updates until it settles one way or another.’ Erick spoke aloud, “Just have to get through this meeting, and the Archipelago is safe for four more months.”

Quilatalap quietly whispered, “Fine.”

Erick said, “Sorry, Quilatalap. I am going to secure your amnesty, but it appears your time and the subterfuge here at Storm’s Edge is over. I doubt there will be any reclamation of your people or your work.”

Quilatalap wanted revenge for the loss of his repros and his guardians and all of the people he lost, but he could settle for taking what he came here for and then leaving. He had needed to do that many different times over his very long life. The loss of the work was much easier to swallow. He could rebuild this dungeon anywhere, and maybe even resurrect the people elsewhere, too, but the loss of the Pantheon’s once-in-a-thousand-years-amnesty was what would have really hurt.

Quilatalap breathed easier, but he was still angry as he said, “That will have to be enough—”

Golden lightning flashed down to the ground twenty meters in front of Erick.

Tiza, Asmus, and Oozy stepped out of the golden lightning.

“Sininindi’s Shield, Erick,” Tiza said, walking forward, hand out, her countenance hidden behind her half-mask, but Erick still saw her smugness and her petty joy. “Now.”

Quilatalap blasted her with a ray of [Absolute Death].

After a split second of a divine golden shield disintegrating away from the Head Priestess of Sininindi, Tiza disintegrated from her heart outward, her face barely recognizing her death before even that dispersed on the wind. Her clothes and her mask fell to the stone ground in a soft clatter.

Quilatalap was satisfied.

In that very same second, he brought Tiza back to life, exactly where she had perished. Good as new. He even managed to put her clothes back onto her body, though everything was a little disheveled. Erick knew that he could have put those clothes on perfectly fine; he had purposefully left her askew.

‘It’s starting,’ Poi sent.

Lightning crashed across the world.