As agreed, Glimpse pulled me out of storage first. I scanned around quickly. From my perspective, it had been late afternoon a moment ago. Now, the sun had set, and only a few rays of light lent the sky a purple tinge in the west.

"We're clear?" I asked.

Yes, Ray, no one within three miles, and their scouts passed through here an hour ago on their way north. They won't be back. Glimpse sent.

"Outstanding. Spit them out and let's get settled in while we wait for the main forces to sight each other."

Men and Huskar began to pour out of the necklace in Glimpse's claws. Blinking at the change in light for a second, they quickly began to form a perimeter, troopers spreading out to surround us as more emerged.

"Lord, that's everyone. Can the bird scout for us now?" asked Pertabon. He was crouched down, like all Huskar, as there wasn't much in the way of cover in this arid land. We'd been dropped off in a shallow depression, but the gently rising slopes around us didn't provide proper cover for the huskar, some of whom were nearly eight metres tall.

Watching the Huskar do that awkward crouching walk to try to reduce their height by half made me smile for a moment, and then Kril arrived.

"You need the kills, Ray," he said without preamble. "You lead the charge and 'nuke' them with Burning Skies. How many mana potions do you have left?"

I'd acquired a few more since the last time I checked as the weekly refresh came round… I checked my personal pocket dimensions and grimaced.

"Forty-nine left."

"Use 'em and share 'em," he ordered me. I scowled at him in response.

"This isn't going to be our last battle. I know where the others are now." I could feel Mortimer like a buboe in my mind. I could sprint to him in less than half an hour. He was gradually creeping away from me to the north, so if they'd noticed us, the man himself would not be paying us a visit anytime soon.

"Fuck them. This is the big, high necromancer. How close are the others?" Kril snapped.

"Not close. But that reserve of potions is three-quarters gone, and I won't be able to restock. The rest will have had more time to get stronger. I won't waste them just to–"

"Just to save the lives of your warriors?" Kril hissed at me. "Mond! You'll need the strength of your warriors when the others come for you!"

"Shut up, Kril. Warriors are born to die in battle," Jandak interrupted. "Perimeter scouts are in place. Where's Glimpse?"

"Just dropping off the kill team," I said absently as I checked in on the bird.

"They were pissed!" chuckled Jandak, and Kos nodded in agreement.

"They wanted Souls already. But they're good lads, despite their… oddities," my brother-in-law added.

"We're not hitting them until the main army engages, so we'll have surprise on our side." I glanced around. "No fires! It's a cold camp tonight!" I barked. "The main legion forces will draw fire while we eat them from the flanks. It's a good old hammer and anvil scenario."

Kril grumbled and complained, but went off to join the mage-Huskar and discuss plans with them. I pulled a pile of furs out of my storage and spread them out on the ground. Kos and Jandak did the same, setting themselves up on either side of me, spears and blades close at hand.

"Mond… Thanks." Jandak spoke in a quiet and uncertain voice. I looked over as I snuggled deeper into my bed for the night. He had been angry at me. Pissed off about Mune, furious that I'd abused my control over him. I'd hardly had a polite word from him since it happened.

"No worries, bloke." I wasn't going to push.

"I was angry." Blunt as ever.

"I noticed, mate. I'm sorry I used the bond to send you away." Gah. This was getting uncomfortable. We were battle-brothers. Feelings were not discussed.

"If you hadn't, I would have died against Gallagher. You couldn't have saved Kos and me. So one of us would have died. And I'm faster than Kos, I'd have attacked first."

"Faster to reach the stewpot," Kos joked.

"I'm glad you survived, brother, but I want revenge for Mune," Jandak snarled from his bedfurs.

"The fighter is dead. The necromancer won't be much of a battle, and he was in charge of Gallagher," Kos offered.

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"Don't count that fuck Mortimer out yet," I said gently.

"Without his giant beasts, he's goat feed. We've got the legion, the Coven, the tribes. And we've got us!" Kos chuckled.

"Mond. Raymond." Jandak never used my proper name. I looked over at him. He was curled tight in a ball, the long back hair of his mullet sticking out of the nest of animal furs he was wrapped in.

"What?" I asked.

"Let me lead the charge tomorrow. You and the casters need to soften them up and deal with the dross, but let me face his champions."

"You've got a kid, bloke. I want–"

"My son will be ashamed of me as I am. I need to cut through our enemies. To win back my honour." I could almost feel the words 'that you took from me' hanging in the air. Bloody crazy Stone Age assholes. Why couldn't I find normal friends in a new world?

"It's that important?"

"Yes." His voice was flat and cold.

"You can lead the legion troopers after the mages burn their mana. It will come down to the cut and thrust after that," I offered.

"Thank you, Mond." He settled deeper into his bedding, and his breathing became quieter.

"Is he asleep?" whispered Kos.

"No," Jandak snapped. "Shut up, Kos."

My brother by marriage snorted and rolled over.

Tomorrow was the day. All these months. The horrors of the bandaged men, the ambush at Hellath, the revelation of the amalgams, and the genocide involved in their creation. I slipped into sleep with visions of horror and grey, melting flesh in my mind.

I awoke in a bronze temple with a smirking Aresk looking down at me.

"Great job, Ray! First kill accomplishment goes to us!"

"To me. He… shouldn't have had to die," I replied, looking behind me. A chair rose from the plaza, and I sat down to face my god.

"I thoroughly approve of your choice of perk! Now we can hunt the others down and win this for sure! You've robbed fish-tits of her power, some of it anyway. Death is on your side, as is Vulcan. We're building quite a little coalition with me at the head of it!" The bronze statue paced back and forth, gesticulating happily as he spoke. "You and me, kiddo, we're going places in this version of the game!"

"We, we, we, me," I snapped back.

"You can't lead a coalition of the gods, you're just a mortal, a mote, a speck of existence. Ray, I am the only one the others will treat with real respect."

I wasn't sure about that. Death had been courteous enough while I was in his domain, and Velkit had lent me his aura a few times when dealing with Sulk and Klip.

"Pah! They saw we were on the rise! They weren't acting to support you, but us!" Aresk chuckled. "And I know you don't like it when I read your thoughts, but you've reached the point where they practically scream at anyone with divine senses. Senses you now possess in some small degree." I thought for a minute and watched the smile playing at the edges of my patron's mouth.

"The Gaze thing?" I guessed.

"Yes! That was a canny choice, boyo! The trash Mortimer sold demi-godhood to were gullible fools, but you've taken the first step towards leaving mortality behind and joining the celestial brotherhood!"

What. The. Fuck.

"I know! It's been so long since anyone has gotten this close! Who was the last? Not Narbo. He was a tinkerer, he liked to play with material things, fucking aethiest. What was his name? Targitaos! That was him! He went back to Earth and became a proper hero. Had to give up most of his power, though. But you don't want to go home anymore, do you? No more homesick, revenge-obsessed Raymond Cobbler."

"I've never heard of the bloke." The armour and weapons on their bronze plinths seemed to spin a little faster as Aresk became more excitable. A happy god was arguably worse than an angry one.

"Oh, don't be a baby! I'm not going to hurt you, am I? You heard of Hercules?"

"Yeah. Kevin Sorbet, right?" I snapped.

"Close enough. Targitaos is the bloke the Greeks nicked the idea from. One of ours who won the game."

"All I had to do to go home was die. Gallagher knew–"

"He didn't know shit! Kronos is a tricky fucker, as you'd expect from Old Father Time. Trust me, boy. I have no idea what it would be like to have a real Hero on Earth in the modern age. Imagine what you could do!"

"Get ganked by corporate assassins or government kidnappers?" I said wryly.

"Ha! Maybe, but I think you'd do a bit better than that! You'd retain a portion of your power, especially now you've partially departed the realm of mortality."

"So I can live forever?" The bronze statue burst into laughter and slapped his thigh with a loud clang that made my ears ring.

"Not even close, lad. But you'll live longer than most men, and if you can win the game… anything is possible."

"I can keep my life here and take my revenge on Poseidon?" I asked. A wash of power went out from my patron, and my chair keeled over backwards. I was pressed into the ground. "Dick… move…" I grunted.

"I've got plans, human. I'm not a mere thug, no simple berserker, although both of those archetypes are among my favourites. You'll get what you want, after I get what I want." The pressure vanished, and my chair righted itself, so I was once again sitting facing a smiling metal golem.

"What plans?" I asked.

"Ray, don't be a dickhead. If I can read your mind… mortals! Suffice it to say that you'll get most of what you want as long as I get most of what I want. Deal?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Honestly? Nope. If you say no, I'll withdraw my support, the tattoo won't work anymore, your army will fracture, and you and your tiny band of nomads will be hunted down. You could probably run for a long time. You're sneaky, I like that about you. But it won't just be you on the run, will it? Think of your spawn, of Fay, and your friends. You'd be killing them all."

Gods are dicks.

"Hah! We certainly are, at least from the point of view of little mortals. I'm sorry, Ray, but it's very much a you scratch my back first kind of a deal when it comes to us celestials. It's only right and proper!"

"What should I expect tomorrow?" I snapped.

"Oh, the usual. Swarms of undead, miasmic clouds of disease and death. Haven't you ever read any books about evil necromancers?"

"No, I had a life."

"Did you, now? A life of hiding who you were, never trusting anyone? Always alone except for dear old Freddy, who you could barely stand to be around for longer than strictly necessary? Now you have a life, my boy. A son, a wife, mighty warriors by your side, and a host at your back! Your life is a song for the ages now! Before, you were just a petty killer. Now you're a titan bestriding the world!" The statue swelled to gigantic proportions, leaving me staring upwards at a face suddenly far away.

"It was what I'd built!" I snarled.

"There's my boy! Go on back to 'real' world now and do what you were made to do!"

The plaza faded out, and my eyes snapped open to the pink light of dawn.

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