Chapter 13: The Road Ahead.

There are no new corpses this time. My emotions are both reset from the weird detached hermit life and dulled by the nature of this place, so suddenly I feel more stuff but all of it is muted. I think it’s good that it’s muted. I think I’d be screaming my fucking lungs out otherwise.

Chronos waits patiently at the edge of his seat, hands crossed over a knee. I immediately grab the shot glass in front of me, downing it. It stings like hell. Gin. I don’t care. Even muted, the emotions crowd my brain like fat smokers outside a pub.

“Jesus Hyeronimus Ebenezar Christ in a handbasket. Fuck me. Fuck. Me.”

Chronos patiently waits for me to be done, which happens relatively quickly considering the circumstances. I guess Perfect Soul helps, as do the properties of the Time God’s domain.

I politely decline Morag’s offer for a second shot.

“Better not make a habit of it,” I tell her.

She shrugs, brings the bottle to her obsidian lips, then takes a long sip. Her bafflement tells me she doesn’t get it.

“The bite is part of the experience,” I inform her.

With measured gestures, she pours the rest of the bottle on the floor. Well. I’m not cleaning that up. I turn back to Chonos. How do I eloquently convey what I think of the situation?

“Enderlith is utterly fucked.”

That should do it. Well done, Steve. No better orator since Julius Fucking Caesar.

“Things certainly appear dire,” the god allows.

“Is it, you know, always that bad? Every Year of Judgment?”

“No.”

I wait for more explanations because I’m a fool who forgot who the god was. To be fair, it’s been a year. A year. A whole, entire year.

I’m 28 now I suppose. I didn’t even try to keep track.

Maybe loneliness got to me.

“I could really use a word of encouragement right about now.”

Chronos smiles with a sort of sad patience that makes me wonder if he’s genuine, or just so old he’s perfect at playing a role.

“You are my champion, Steve. Right now you are weak because this is, from your perspective, the beginning of your journey, but you are full of potential. You are the living avatar of one of the two dragons. You are, quite literally, unstoppable.”

He leans forward.

“It’s not that time is on your side. You are time. Slow. Patient. Inexorable. Even I can no longer stop you. Fail, stumble, it doesn’t matter. You can always try again, better prepared, more armed. When you die, we will be waiting here for you. And you will die, again and again and again. And it will not be the end of you. All the catastrophes you see, you can act upon. All the people you meet, you can meet again. Every project you can dream of, every lead you can pursue, every attempt you want to make. All yours. All free for the taking.”

“Right…” I say, then again. “Right. Ok. Thanks, Chronos. Let me do something real quick. Before I forget.”

I practically run to my note table to write down the damn phone number because who knows if I’ll remember it three months from now if I get distracted. I also write the name ‘Tulku’ since this is apparently important, and after some hesitation, I write the name of Krane and his description. Can I get amnesia? Fuck I hope not. I write all I think is relevant and that I remember just in case.

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

When I look up, Chronos and Morag still wait where I left them. They are remarkably chill as far as my godly expectations go. Fewer smitings and more wine. Why, I’m almost ready to convert.

Chronos winks. I return my attention to my notes. My original plan was to focus on physical awakening next, then get a mage tradition afterward. Does the absolute shitshow this past year turned out to be change my plans at all?

I don’t think so. If I really, really want to make a difference, then I need to become stronger. Millions will suffer while I do so, but the simple truth is that there is little I can do as I am right now. Even gathering allies requires people to trust me, and the sad truth is that the people of Enderlith won’t trust an unawakened the same way I wouldn’t trust a filthy man on the street. Right now I look like a complete loser. This must change.

Even if it means allowing the suffering to occur. It’s an investment. And they won’t remember dying, right? Right?

If I repeat this to myself enough times, I might end up believing it. So, next loop is the awakening one. I need to reach the third level of physical awakening before the end of the year so I can spend my points on the skill that will allow me to start every loop as a first level physical awakened. Fortunately, I have a plan. That plan also includes recruiting Krane to try and make the year marginally less shitty for everyone else. With Krane’s help, I might be able to do something about the explosion. We will see.

I sit straighter now that the notes are properly altered. In theory, I’m ready to go again but… I just don’t feel like it. I guess I can check the skill machine again, if anything. I could use a short break. I stand and sigh as I approach the arcade cabinet.

I think Chronos is taking the piss, just a little bit. His archaic skill machine is intentionally obtuse but I refuse to ask him for something more modern just for the sake of convenience. Mostly, I refuse because he knows everything I think and therefore he already knows that old piece of junk annoys me, yet he refuses to change it so there. With a sigh, I review the list of what I’ve already acquired.

Steve Prentiss.

Qualia points available: 711

Physical awakening: N/A

Mage tradition: none