The apocalypse is a side.., p.11
The Apocalypse is a Side Quest: Book Three, page 11
Vines lashed forward, wrapping around the figure. Yet again, there was a slight twist, and the figure slipped free as if Nathan were grabbing at wind.
“It’s not working!” Lily shouted.
Nathan furrowed his eyebrows, then an idea struck.
“Next time, grow briars from your vines. Hook whoever’s trying to run.”
Before Lily could respond, another wave of water exploded toward them. The rush of the current filled Nathan’s ears, the gurgling hum of magic-charged water.
His eyes snapped forward, absolute focus flooding his mind. He thrust out his hand, grappling for control of the element. This time, he knew he was stepping into a fight.
Instead of trying to seize the entire mass of water, Nathan focused on splitting a narrow path directly in front of him. The enemy’s magic lashed out, attempting to redirect, to bite back against his pinpoint strike—but it was too late. The water parted, and Nathan charged through, untouched.
Vines burst from his arm, briars glinting in the foggy light. They shot forward, coiling around the figure. A yelp rang out as the thorns dug into flesh.
The figure writhed, but Lily held firm.
“Got them!”
Nathan stepped closer, the vines tightening their grip. As the fog thinned, the figure’s shape became clearer.
Wait. That’s not a mask. And why is the skin purple? And those are way too many arms—
“Can you get this off me?! It really hurts!”
Nathan froze.
A massive octopus—nearly his size—glared up at him, its tentacles tangled in thorns.
Nathan stared at the octopus for several long seconds. The octopus stared back, its two rectangular eyes glaring daggers at him.
“Whoa, sorry,” Nathan mentally pulled the vines away from the octopus. “Thought you were someone else.”
“Who did you think I was?”
“My sister.”
“You were going to try to spear your sister with a half dozen thorns? Man, you must really hate her.”
“We have a complicated relationship.” Nathan paused. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
“I could ask you the same question. I’ve never seen anything like you down here before. Actually, I’ve never seen anything like you at all.”
“When you say ‘down here,’ you’re referring to…?”
“The Golden Realm, of course. Where we are. A land of infinite peace, where the Eye of the Great One cannot see us.” The octopus drooped over. “It’s also a dreadfully boring place, unfortunately.”
“I’m sorry—Great One? What are you referring to?”
The octopus pushed itself off the ground and hovered in midair.
“Hold on a second,” it said. “You chase me down, attack me—injure me! Why should I listen to a single thing you have to say?”
Nathan rubbed his chin. “I could feed you.”
The octopus stopped. “I’m listening.”
Nathan reached into his inventory and hesitated. What kind of things would an octopus like?
“I have this fish.” Nathan pulled out the Bass of Many Fins. “Would you be interested in this?”
The octopus froze. “You have what?”
“The Bass of Many Fins. It’s something I picked up on a prior circle—”
The octopus snatched the fish out of Nathan’s hand and devoured it wholesale in front of him. Which was something Nathan never thought he’d say—or see—in his life.
After a minute or so, the octopus finally finished its meal.
“Another one.”
Nathan glanced at his inventory. A single droplet of sweat rolled down his forehead. He had exactly one left, and that would be the end of his newfound leverage.
“Answer my questions first. I think that’s only fair.”
The octopus flattened three of its tentacles against the ground. “That’s completely unreasonable!”
“You want the fish or not?”
The octopus seemed to deflate at Nathan’s words. “I thought you circle-dwellers were supposed to be dumb and stupid. How dare you make a fool out of me like this?”
“Just answer the question.”
The octopus picked itself up and hovered in the air.
“Where do you want me to start?”
“Well, for starters, what is this place?”
The octopus reached up and scratched its blubbery head. “It’s the Golden Realm.”
Nathan struggled for words. The octopus was clearly taking a lot of knowledge for granted—where was he supposed to begin?
“But… what is it? Like, is it another dimension or something? And what’s up with the portals that lead into it?”
“I don’t really know what to tell you. This is the Golden Realm.”
Nathan was rapidly getting the feeling that this would be an unproductive line of questioning.
He decided to change tactics. “Where did this place come from? Like, who created it?”
The octopus shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Nathan resisted the urge to scream at the top of his lungs.
“You mentioned something about us being ‘circle-dwellers,’ right?”
“Yeah, you’re from a circle, aren’t you? I can sense the amount of internal energy rushing around inside you. Man, and it seems like you really did a number on your core, too.”
“I went through this ritual to rank up… I don’t think it was a good idea. It was kind of a cheap counterfeit ritual.”
“Yeah, that’ll do it. Can destroy your internals that way.”
“Getting back to what I said… So, this place connects to the circles?”
“It connects everywhere. I can visit other planets, drop into one of the apocalypses, go anywhere I want.”
“Um, do you happen to know any Mafia fish?”
The octopus blinked.
“No, I don’t use their method. They’re unrelated to me. I don’t really leave here anyway.”
“Why?”
“It’s so much more uncomfortable out there. Once you get used to the energy here—and the stabilizing effect this place has on you—it gets hard to leave.” The octopus sighed. “Though it does get lonely. Last time I saw an intelligent being besides you was probably ten years ago.”
“Who was it?”
“Oh, my parents. Before we got separated.”
Nathan grimaced. “Sorry.”
“Yeah, stray killer tuna attack. We got separated in the confusion. But it’s fine. That’s the thing about living in the Golden Realm. You’re almost guaranteed to split up eventually because of… well. This.” The octopus gestured at the surrounding landscape—nothing but fog for miles.
“And time flows weird here, right?”
The octopus tilted its head. “Depends on where you are. Some areas have time dilation, but you learn to avoid those. Mostly, it’s the same as the circles.”
“How do I avoid the dangerous zones? The ones where time gets messed up?”
The octopus raised a tentacle and tapped one of its eyes. “Not hard. Just watch for areas with unusual energy concentrations.”
“I don’t have an eye for what ‘unusual’ looks like.”
“Tough luck.” The octopus crossed its arms. “Now, about that last fish—”
“A few more questions. Then you’ll get it, promise.”
“Fine. Make it quick.”
“…Why stay down here? You said it’s uncomfortable on the circles, but that can’t be the only reason. I can’t believe you’d choose this kind of loneliness.”
“Yeah, it sucks.” The octopus exhaled. “The only company I get is dumb fish. Intelligent beings are rare.”
“So why?”
The octopus fell silent for a long moment before answering.
“You don’t sense it? That thing in the background, always there… the presence watching you. It’s everywhere. No escape—except here.”
“What presence? What are you talking about?”
“Her. Don’t you know who she is?”
A chill shot down Nathan’s spine. His mind snapped the pieces together—what the octopus was saying, what Thalassa had told him long ago. The rot under creation, she’d called it. Nothingness.
“You’re talking about the Mother,” Nathan said.
“Don’t say it aloud!”
Nathan clamped his mouth shut.
The octopus tensed, hovering rigidly. “She can’t hear us here… But it’s taboo to even refer to her.”
“What is she? A god? A monster? Some fundamental force?”
The octopus recoiled with each question. “I don’t know how to explain. She just is. There’s no word for what she is—’being’ might not even be right. The thought of going out there terrifies me. This is the only place I can’t feel her. I don’t know how you people stand it.”
“I… never even noticed. What does it feel like to you?”
“It’s like… your skin is constantly being pricked with needles. Not hard enough to cause real pain, but enough to notice. And sometimes… if I think too hard about her… I swear, it’s like I can see her right at the edge of my vision. In fact, it’s dangerous for you just to know this. You can’t think about her for too long, otherwise she starts to notice. Once you leave, you’re gonna have to do your best to not think about this conversation.”
Nathan frowned and furrowed his eyebrows. “Is she really that powerful? Just thinking about her makes her notice?”
“I’m telling you, that’s what it feels like to me. And that’s what my parents taught me.”
Nathan clenched his jaw.
Against something of that magnitude… was there even a point?
No. Nathan wasn’t going to fight her. Why would he? It was like Thalassa’s vendetta against B32. There was no reason he had to get involved.
Sure, it would be disconcerting to know there was some kind of eldritch entity lurking beneath the fabric of existence, but would it actually affect his daily life? It wasn’t like that entity was out to get him specifically. No, the only things trying to kill him were Gabriel and B32—and both seemed far less powerful than whatever this “Mother” was.
“Thanks for the warning, but I don’t think I have to worry about it,” Nathan said. “If the worst it does is give me bad vibes, I’ll be fine.”
“Bad vibes? You’re not terrified of this thing?”
“I’ve lived twenty years without knowing it existed, and it never affected me before.”
The octopus didn’t respond for several seconds. Finally, it opened its mouth—or what passed for a mouth—and closed it again.
“I see.”
Nathan paused. “What is it?”
“…You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“What this is all about. The point of the circles. The reason you’re here?”
He didn’t know.
“Tell me.”
The octopus moved back a few steps.
“It’s just gonna make you miserable, buddy. My advice? If you want to avoid what’s coming, learn to live here and give up.”
“Wait, I’m not done asking—”
“No, I think that’s enough. Best of luck, mystery man.”
Before Nathan could grab it, the octopus propelled itself away with a jet of water into the air. He reached out but missed by a mile.
He considered chasing it, then stopped. He probably wouldn’t get any more answers out of that guy.
And besides… that reaction.
Nathan already suspected what the octopus would say.
And he didn’t like the answer.
Chapter Sixteen
Nathan stepped out of the spirit realm and swam back to Mara.
When she spotted him, she waved at him with her gun.
“You’re alive!” she said. “I’m really glad you’re back, because I have no idea how to get to the outpost from here.” She paused. “Gonna be honest. Thought you were done for.”
Nathan walked onto the island, hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I’m surprised I’m still alive too.”
“Did you explode at any point?”
“Again, surprisingly, no,” Nathan said. “I did have a conversation with an octopus, though.”
“Sorry, can you repeat that?”
“I’ll tell you about it later.” Nathan glanced at the setting sun. “We’re gonna have to move fast if we want to make it back to the outpost.”
“What are we using for a boat?”
“What’s wrong with the one we have?”
Mara scratched her head. “You mean besides the giant hole you put in the deck?”
Oh, yeah. There was a giant hole in the deck.
Nathan raised a finger to argue, then lowered it slowly. “That’s… a fair point. Lily can patch it up, though.”
Lily shivered on his arm. “Did somebody say my name?”
“Yeah, we need you to fix the ship.”
Nathan headed over to the boat, and Lily extended her wooden roots. He broke them off to form a makeshift deck. After that, the prisoners were brought on board—
Nathan looked at where they’d been.
“Mara, where are the prisoners?” he said.
Mara glanced back at the sandy beach, where the imprints of the captives still remained… and their bodies were gone.
She turned back to Nathan and shrugged.
Nathan rubbed the bridge of his nose.
When they arrived back at Fort Nathan, he was immediately taken aside by Chad and led toward the town hall—or presidential palace, as it was officially known.
“Can I ask why we’re in such a rush?”
“Just follow me. Also, why do you smell like sushi?”
“It’s a long story.”
“One I’ll hear at some point. Because you’re not going to forget to tell me important information, are you?”
“Definitely.”
“I’m glad we’re on the same page, then.”
The doors swung open to the palace, and already, multiple members of the council were there. Bree, Kason, and Fuge were pointing and gesturing at figures on the table.
“What’s going on?” Nathan said.
“What do you think? The second target’s been selected. That is, if you’re ready to sign off on it.”
“Second town? You mean for a raid?” Nathan crossed his arms. “Isn’t that a little risky? What do you have in mind?”
“It won’t be as risky as you think,” Bree said. “For context, let us show you something.”
She opened Dither and flipped to the videos section, selecting one with a thumbnail of what was supposed to be an open palm facing the sky but looked more like someone had accidentally sat on the camera.
The video started playing, and when Nathan saw the subject, he froze—then immediately had to stifle a laugh.
It was Gabriel, alongside the younger boy who followed him around—Clarence. Gabriel was clearly reading from cue cards held just off-camera, his eyes darting back and forth.
“It has come to our attention,” Gabriel said with dramatic pauses in all the wrong places, “that a MAN by the name of… Nathan… Lee is spreading slanderous LIES against us.”
The video cut abruptly to a blurry, sideways picture of Nathan amid his exploding of an enemy monster. Someone had crudely drawn devil horns on his head with what appeared to be MS Paint.
“We of the Harrowed Hand are publishing this video to correct the record,” Gabriel continued, now inexplicably wearing a different colored shirt. “It is not US who are the monsters, but the man known as Nathan Lee.”
The video cut to an image of Gabriel awkwardly handing out what looked like stale bread to a sickly-looking child who was clearly just Clarence with dirt smudged on his face.
“The Harrowed Hand is a peaceful organization,” Gabriel said while the camera wobbled precariously, “dedicated to the survival of humanity… and puppies.”
“Puppies?” Nathan mouthed to Chad, who shrugged.
A few more images flashed by—Gabriel and Clarence “protecting” people from monsters that were obviously just cardboard cutouts, distributing supplies that still had price tags visible.
“Nathan Lee, on the other hand,” Gabriel’s voice suddenly dropped to a whisper, “is a demon in human form.”
The video cut to footage of Nathan knocking the head off one of the Harrowed Hand members back on the First Circle—except it was playing in reverse, making it look like Nathan was magically attaching the head back on.
“How did they even get that footage?” Nathan muttered.
“I don’t know, but keep watching,” Chad said, barely containing his laughter.
Gabriel’s voice resumed, attempting to sound smooth but coming across like a text-to-speech program having a stroke.
“Nathan Lee has been responsible for death the likes of which have never been seen. He has slaughtered dozens, if not hundreds, if not THOUSANDS,” Gabriel said, his eyes widening dramatically with each increase in number. “He… eats children for breakfast. He turns water into poison. He once punched a kitten just because it was Tuesday.”
The camera zoomed in uncomfortably close to Gabriel’s nostrils.
“The stories they tell of him are just that—stories. The TRUTH is that he is a power-mad, insane madman, ready to destroy the world for his own ambitions.” Gabriel paused dramatically before whispering, “He doesn’t even recycle.”
“Stand with us. Stand with the Harrowed Hand,” Gabriel concluded, throwing his arms wide and accidentally knocking Clarence out of frame with an audible “oof!”
The video ended with what was clearly supposed to be an impressive logo, but was just the words HAROWED HAND misspelled in Comic Sans.
The entire room was silent for several seconds.
“Who even edited this?” Nathan asked.
“Whoever it is, they’re all probably ten feet in the ground for this mess,” Mara said.
“Total amateurs.” Chad shook his head and sighed. “No one takes the craft seriously anymore.”
“Uh-huh.” Nathan tilted his head in confusion. “No one actually buys this, right?”
“No one,” Chad said, pointing to the sidebar. “Actually, the comments are just people making fun of him. This one says he looks like ‘Justin Bieber if he was raised in a bunker and had never seen another human.’”
“It’s not working!” Lily shouted.
Nathan furrowed his eyebrows, then an idea struck.
“Next time, grow briars from your vines. Hook whoever’s trying to run.”
Before Lily could respond, another wave of water exploded toward them. The rush of the current filled Nathan’s ears, the gurgling hum of magic-charged water.
His eyes snapped forward, absolute focus flooding his mind. He thrust out his hand, grappling for control of the element. This time, he knew he was stepping into a fight.
Instead of trying to seize the entire mass of water, Nathan focused on splitting a narrow path directly in front of him. The enemy’s magic lashed out, attempting to redirect, to bite back against his pinpoint strike—but it was too late. The water parted, and Nathan charged through, untouched.
Vines burst from his arm, briars glinting in the foggy light. They shot forward, coiling around the figure. A yelp rang out as the thorns dug into flesh.
The figure writhed, but Lily held firm.
“Got them!”
Nathan stepped closer, the vines tightening their grip. As the fog thinned, the figure’s shape became clearer.
Wait. That’s not a mask. And why is the skin purple? And those are way too many arms—
“Can you get this off me?! It really hurts!”
Nathan froze.
A massive octopus—nearly his size—glared up at him, its tentacles tangled in thorns.
Nathan stared at the octopus for several long seconds. The octopus stared back, its two rectangular eyes glaring daggers at him.
“Whoa, sorry,” Nathan mentally pulled the vines away from the octopus. “Thought you were someone else.”
“Who did you think I was?”
“My sister.”
“You were going to try to spear your sister with a half dozen thorns? Man, you must really hate her.”
“We have a complicated relationship.” Nathan paused. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
“I could ask you the same question. I’ve never seen anything like you down here before. Actually, I’ve never seen anything like you at all.”
“When you say ‘down here,’ you’re referring to…?”
“The Golden Realm, of course. Where we are. A land of infinite peace, where the Eye of the Great One cannot see us.” The octopus drooped over. “It’s also a dreadfully boring place, unfortunately.”
“I’m sorry—Great One? What are you referring to?”
The octopus pushed itself off the ground and hovered in midair.
“Hold on a second,” it said. “You chase me down, attack me—injure me! Why should I listen to a single thing you have to say?”
Nathan rubbed his chin. “I could feed you.”
The octopus stopped. “I’m listening.”
Nathan reached into his inventory and hesitated. What kind of things would an octopus like?
“I have this fish.” Nathan pulled out the Bass of Many Fins. “Would you be interested in this?”
The octopus froze. “You have what?”
“The Bass of Many Fins. It’s something I picked up on a prior circle—”
The octopus snatched the fish out of Nathan’s hand and devoured it wholesale in front of him. Which was something Nathan never thought he’d say—or see—in his life.
After a minute or so, the octopus finally finished its meal.
“Another one.”
Nathan glanced at his inventory. A single droplet of sweat rolled down his forehead. He had exactly one left, and that would be the end of his newfound leverage.
“Answer my questions first. I think that’s only fair.”
The octopus flattened three of its tentacles against the ground. “That’s completely unreasonable!”
“You want the fish or not?”
The octopus seemed to deflate at Nathan’s words. “I thought you circle-dwellers were supposed to be dumb and stupid. How dare you make a fool out of me like this?”
“Just answer the question.”
The octopus picked itself up and hovered in the air.
“Where do you want me to start?”
“Well, for starters, what is this place?”
The octopus reached up and scratched its blubbery head. “It’s the Golden Realm.”
Nathan struggled for words. The octopus was clearly taking a lot of knowledge for granted—where was he supposed to begin?
“But… what is it? Like, is it another dimension or something? And what’s up with the portals that lead into it?”
“I don’t really know what to tell you. This is the Golden Realm.”
Nathan was rapidly getting the feeling that this would be an unproductive line of questioning.
He decided to change tactics. “Where did this place come from? Like, who created it?”
The octopus shrugged. “I don’t know.”
Nathan resisted the urge to scream at the top of his lungs.
“You mentioned something about us being ‘circle-dwellers,’ right?”
“Yeah, you’re from a circle, aren’t you? I can sense the amount of internal energy rushing around inside you. Man, and it seems like you really did a number on your core, too.”
“I went through this ritual to rank up… I don’t think it was a good idea. It was kind of a cheap counterfeit ritual.”
“Yeah, that’ll do it. Can destroy your internals that way.”
“Getting back to what I said… So, this place connects to the circles?”
“It connects everywhere. I can visit other planets, drop into one of the apocalypses, go anywhere I want.”
“Um, do you happen to know any Mafia fish?”
The octopus blinked.
“No, I don’t use their method. They’re unrelated to me. I don’t really leave here anyway.”
“Why?”
“It’s so much more uncomfortable out there. Once you get used to the energy here—and the stabilizing effect this place has on you—it gets hard to leave.” The octopus sighed. “Though it does get lonely. Last time I saw an intelligent being besides you was probably ten years ago.”
“Who was it?”
“Oh, my parents. Before we got separated.”
Nathan grimaced. “Sorry.”
“Yeah, stray killer tuna attack. We got separated in the confusion. But it’s fine. That’s the thing about living in the Golden Realm. You’re almost guaranteed to split up eventually because of… well. This.” The octopus gestured at the surrounding landscape—nothing but fog for miles.
“And time flows weird here, right?”
The octopus tilted its head. “Depends on where you are. Some areas have time dilation, but you learn to avoid those. Mostly, it’s the same as the circles.”
“How do I avoid the dangerous zones? The ones where time gets messed up?”
The octopus raised a tentacle and tapped one of its eyes. “Not hard. Just watch for areas with unusual energy concentrations.”
“I don’t have an eye for what ‘unusual’ looks like.”
“Tough luck.” The octopus crossed its arms. “Now, about that last fish—”
“A few more questions. Then you’ll get it, promise.”
“Fine. Make it quick.”
“…Why stay down here? You said it’s uncomfortable on the circles, but that can’t be the only reason. I can’t believe you’d choose this kind of loneliness.”
“Yeah, it sucks.” The octopus exhaled. “The only company I get is dumb fish. Intelligent beings are rare.”
“So why?”
The octopus fell silent for a long moment before answering.
“You don’t sense it? That thing in the background, always there… the presence watching you. It’s everywhere. No escape—except here.”
“What presence? What are you talking about?”
“Her. Don’t you know who she is?”
A chill shot down Nathan’s spine. His mind snapped the pieces together—what the octopus was saying, what Thalassa had told him long ago. The rot under creation, she’d called it. Nothingness.
“You’re talking about the Mother,” Nathan said.
“Don’t say it aloud!”
Nathan clamped his mouth shut.
The octopus tensed, hovering rigidly. “She can’t hear us here… But it’s taboo to even refer to her.”
“What is she? A god? A monster? Some fundamental force?”
The octopus recoiled with each question. “I don’t know how to explain. She just is. There’s no word for what she is—’being’ might not even be right. The thought of going out there terrifies me. This is the only place I can’t feel her. I don’t know how you people stand it.”
“I… never even noticed. What does it feel like to you?”
“It’s like… your skin is constantly being pricked with needles. Not hard enough to cause real pain, but enough to notice. And sometimes… if I think too hard about her… I swear, it’s like I can see her right at the edge of my vision. In fact, it’s dangerous for you just to know this. You can’t think about her for too long, otherwise she starts to notice. Once you leave, you’re gonna have to do your best to not think about this conversation.”
Nathan frowned and furrowed his eyebrows. “Is she really that powerful? Just thinking about her makes her notice?”
“I’m telling you, that’s what it feels like to me. And that’s what my parents taught me.”
Nathan clenched his jaw.
Against something of that magnitude… was there even a point?
No. Nathan wasn’t going to fight her. Why would he? It was like Thalassa’s vendetta against B32. There was no reason he had to get involved.
Sure, it would be disconcerting to know there was some kind of eldritch entity lurking beneath the fabric of existence, but would it actually affect his daily life? It wasn’t like that entity was out to get him specifically. No, the only things trying to kill him were Gabriel and B32—and both seemed far less powerful than whatever this “Mother” was.
“Thanks for the warning, but I don’t think I have to worry about it,” Nathan said. “If the worst it does is give me bad vibes, I’ll be fine.”
“Bad vibes? You’re not terrified of this thing?”
“I’ve lived twenty years without knowing it existed, and it never affected me before.”
The octopus didn’t respond for several seconds. Finally, it opened its mouth—or what passed for a mouth—and closed it again.
“I see.”
Nathan paused. “What is it?”
“…You don’t know?”
“Know what?”
“What this is all about. The point of the circles. The reason you’re here?”
He didn’t know.
“Tell me.”
The octopus moved back a few steps.
“It’s just gonna make you miserable, buddy. My advice? If you want to avoid what’s coming, learn to live here and give up.”
“Wait, I’m not done asking—”
“No, I think that’s enough. Best of luck, mystery man.”
Before Nathan could grab it, the octopus propelled itself away with a jet of water into the air. He reached out but missed by a mile.
He considered chasing it, then stopped. He probably wouldn’t get any more answers out of that guy.
And besides… that reaction.
Nathan already suspected what the octopus would say.
And he didn’t like the answer.
Chapter Sixteen
Nathan stepped out of the spirit realm and swam back to Mara.
When she spotted him, she waved at him with her gun.
“You’re alive!” she said. “I’m really glad you’re back, because I have no idea how to get to the outpost from here.” She paused. “Gonna be honest. Thought you were done for.”
Nathan walked onto the island, hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I’m surprised I’m still alive too.”
“Did you explode at any point?”
“Again, surprisingly, no,” Nathan said. “I did have a conversation with an octopus, though.”
“Sorry, can you repeat that?”
“I’ll tell you about it later.” Nathan glanced at the setting sun. “We’re gonna have to move fast if we want to make it back to the outpost.”
“What are we using for a boat?”
“What’s wrong with the one we have?”
Mara scratched her head. “You mean besides the giant hole you put in the deck?”
Oh, yeah. There was a giant hole in the deck.
Nathan raised a finger to argue, then lowered it slowly. “That’s… a fair point. Lily can patch it up, though.”
Lily shivered on his arm. “Did somebody say my name?”
“Yeah, we need you to fix the ship.”
Nathan headed over to the boat, and Lily extended her wooden roots. He broke them off to form a makeshift deck. After that, the prisoners were brought on board—
Nathan looked at where they’d been.
“Mara, where are the prisoners?” he said.
Mara glanced back at the sandy beach, where the imprints of the captives still remained… and their bodies were gone.
She turned back to Nathan and shrugged.
Nathan rubbed the bridge of his nose.
When they arrived back at Fort Nathan, he was immediately taken aside by Chad and led toward the town hall—or presidential palace, as it was officially known.
“Can I ask why we’re in such a rush?”
“Just follow me. Also, why do you smell like sushi?”
“It’s a long story.”
“One I’ll hear at some point. Because you’re not going to forget to tell me important information, are you?”
“Definitely.”
“I’m glad we’re on the same page, then.”
The doors swung open to the palace, and already, multiple members of the council were there. Bree, Kason, and Fuge were pointing and gesturing at figures on the table.
“What’s going on?” Nathan said.
“What do you think? The second target’s been selected. That is, if you’re ready to sign off on it.”
“Second town? You mean for a raid?” Nathan crossed his arms. “Isn’t that a little risky? What do you have in mind?”
“It won’t be as risky as you think,” Bree said. “For context, let us show you something.”
She opened Dither and flipped to the videos section, selecting one with a thumbnail of what was supposed to be an open palm facing the sky but looked more like someone had accidentally sat on the camera.
The video started playing, and when Nathan saw the subject, he froze—then immediately had to stifle a laugh.
It was Gabriel, alongside the younger boy who followed him around—Clarence. Gabriel was clearly reading from cue cards held just off-camera, his eyes darting back and forth.
“It has come to our attention,” Gabriel said with dramatic pauses in all the wrong places, “that a MAN by the name of… Nathan… Lee is spreading slanderous LIES against us.”
The video cut abruptly to a blurry, sideways picture of Nathan amid his exploding of an enemy monster. Someone had crudely drawn devil horns on his head with what appeared to be MS Paint.
“We of the Harrowed Hand are publishing this video to correct the record,” Gabriel continued, now inexplicably wearing a different colored shirt. “It is not US who are the monsters, but the man known as Nathan Lee.”
The video cut to an image of Gabriel awkwardly handing out what looked like stale bread to a sickly-looking child who was clearly just Clarence with dirt smudged on his face.
“The Harrowed Hand is a peaceful organization,” Gabriel said while the camera wobbled precariously, “dedicated to the survival of humanity… and puppies.”
“Puppies?” Nathan mouthed to Chad, who shrugged.
A few more images flashed by—Gabriel and Clarence “protecting” people from monsters that were obviously just cardboard cutouts, distributing supplies that still had price tags visible.
“Nathan Lee, on the other hand,” Gabriel’s voice suddenly dropped to a whisper, “is a demon in human form.”
The video cut to footage of Nathan knocking the head off one of the Harrowed Hand members back on the First Circle—except it was playing in reverse, making it look like Nathan was magically attaching the head back on.
“How did they even get that footage?” Nathan muttered.
“I don’t know, but keep watching,” Chad said, barely containing his laughter.
Gabriel’s voice resumed, attempting to sound smooth but coming across like a text-to-speech program having a stroke.
“Nathan Lee has been responsible for death the likes of which have never been seen. He has slaughtered dozens, if not hundreds, if not THOUSANDS,” Gabriel said, his eyes widening dramatically with each increase in number. “He… eats children for breakfast. He turns water into poison. He once punched a kitten just because it was Tuesday.”
The camera zoomed in uncomfortably close to Gabriel’s nostrils.
“The stories they tell of him are just that—stories. The TRUTH is that he is a power-mad, insane madman, ready to destroy the world for his own ambitions.” Gabriel paused dramatically before whispering, “He doesn’t even recycle.”
“Stand with us. Stand with the Harrowed Hand,” Gabriel concluded, throwing his arms wide and accidentally knocking Clarence out of frame with an audible “oof!”
The video ended with what was clearly supposed to be an impressive logo, but was just the words HAROWED HAND misspelled in Comic Sans.
The entire room was silent for several seconds.
“Who even edited this?” Nathan asked.
“Whoever it is, they’re all probably ten feet in the ground for this mess,” Mara said.
“Total amateurs.” Chad shook his head and sighed. “No one takes the craft seriously anymore.”
“Uh-huh.” Nathan tilted his head in confusion. “No one actually buys this, right?”
“No one,” Chad said, pointing to the sidebar. “Actually, the comments are just people making fun of him. This one says he looks like ‘Justin Bieber if he was raised in a bunker and had never seen another human.’”
