Melmarc’s eyes tried to pick out another black spot on the walls or the ceiling or the ground. That was what was different between today and every other day since his discomfort had started. It had bothered him since coming to the school, but now he was sure of it. The white and black design of the school was something unnatural.

  It was not a fashion design.

  Something was wrong.

  He checked his phone again, knowing that Uncle Dorthna had not opened the message even before he touched it.

  Maybe I should call him.

  It sounded like the reasonable thing to do. If Uncle Dorthna could just pick the call, maybe—

  [You have been found and chosen.]

  What the hell?

  [You are being moved to a new location by the Laws of Sapience]

  Melmarc couldn’t believe what he was reading. What the hell were the Laws of Sapience, and where the hell was he being moved to? And when?

  [Teleportation in 3…]

  He bolted up right from his seat. He had to leave.

  [… 2…]

  He wouldn’t make it in time. His eyes darted around in his head as he thought. What could he do? He had to do something.

  [1.]

  …

  [Teleportation in Progress]

  There was nothing he could do, so his eyes fastened on Pelumi. He found her looking for him. He had only one thing to say. It was all that he could do.

  “Find Ark.”

  …

  There was nothing less fun than trying to live like an ordinary human being. Yes, the wine was supposed to be nice, but such indulgence had since left Dorthna. He could not enjoy them even if he tried. In fact, if he was being honest, he had lived for so long that he still didn’t know if he had ever even enjoyed it without pretending in the first place.

  The apple, though, he thought, taking a sip of his wine.

  The apple had been an exquisite thing. Anyone who had ever been close enough to it would know that maybe they were being too harsh on Eve.

  “I’m not sure how to feel about it,” the lady seated opposite him said, ending her story.

  Dorthna took a moment to take a sip of his wine. He pretended to savor it, before placing the glass back down. Around him people sat, drinking amongst themselves while having different conversations about different topics.

  “Are you afraid of him?” he asked.

  The woman nodded. She had a buzz cut and a tattoo of a snake that wrapped around her neck. The rest of its serpentine body trailed down into her cleavage that she certainly thought was one of her greater appeals.

  “He’s a Delver,” she said, giving information that Dorthna already knew. “I know that people think they are all great and heroes, but he’s really just a monster. Every day I fear for my life.”

  “And now you’re on the run?” Dorthna asked.

  Again, she nodded. “It’s only a matter of time before he finds me.”

  “And you thought that with all this baggage it was a good idea to join a dating site?” He cocked a brow at her.

  “I just…” she frowned. “Running gets lonely. I’m not looking for someone to commit or anything, just someone to talk to, the onetime companionship.”

  “I see.”

  He picked up his wine glass for another sip, pausing when the liquid touched his lips. His eyes narrowed at something he was seeing out of habit.

  The lady, Erica, twitched, snapping to look behind her as if her abusive boyfriend—because he could not bring himself to call the man her ex since she hadn’t called the man her ex—was on her tail.

  “What?” she asked when she saw nothing out of place.

  Dorthna shook his head, taking the sip of wine he’d paused midway through. “It’s nothing you need to concern yourself with.”

  Even as he spoke, he saw the motes of black and blue mana struggling to come to life. He hadn’t seen them in a while, not since Melmarc established his dominance over the world.

  This was interesting.

  His phone vibrated on the table, and he picked it up. It was a message from Melmarc. He focused on it, reading the message from the notification instead of opening it directly.

  Uncle, I think something’s very wrong, it read. I’m hearing voices.

  Voices, Dorthna mused, knowing exactly what was happening. For only a moment, he considered replying before changing his mind.

  Sometimes, it was good to let the young discover what the problems were on their own. Sometimes it was nice to leave them without guidance, to let them figure things out.

  I guess I’ll have to keep an eye on Ninra for a while.

  The thought was funny to him since he had never taken his eyes off Ninra since the day that she was born. In this moment, he knew what all the Lockwoods were doing. He knew where all of them were.

  “John?” Erica said, drawing his attention. “Is anything happening at home?”

  “Nope.” He dropped the wine glass on the table and got up. “Your boyfriend, can I have his address?”

  Erica paused, startled into confusion. “Why? Wouldn’t you be more interested in going back to my place with me? I’m in a nice motel just around the corner.”

  The black and blue mana particles were growing stronger, popping out of nothingness. Dorthna watched her, stared at her. She was one of Melmarc’s properties, but Melmarc had no attachments to her. Melmarc did not even know that she was alive.

  Maybe I should save her, he thought.

  Then again, he didn’t really care.

  “You don’t have his address?” he asked.

  Erica shook her head. “I know the company he works for but not his address.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  The mana particles were increasing in actual size now, growing as big as the woman’s eye. It seemed things had finally ripped their way through, which could only mean one thing. He switched his mind to Melmarc.

  Yep, he thought. He’s gone.

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “Everybody!" he bellowed, his voice shaking the entire restaurant. "Eyes closed!”

  In front of him, Erica closed her eyes.

  You’re getting soft, he thought. The children are rubbing off on you.

  Dorthna couldn’t bring himself to agree.

  This is benevolence.

  He waited as the particles grew larger. He didn’t have to check to know that the eyes of everyone that could see in the restaurant were closed.

  Benevolence is for God, he thought.

  The very thought made him scoff.

  If only people knew who God truly was. If only they knew how he became God.

  Benevolence is not for God, he thought as the mana particles began to manifest. Because God is a lie.

  A portal came alive right behind Erica. Its form reached out, translucent tentacles of arms made out of hands reaching out. Its form as grotesque as they always were. Just before one of those arms touched Erica, Dorthna spoke.

  “Close.”

  It sealed itself up, disappearing as if it had never been in the first place. Silence returned to the restaurant. Eyes remained closed. Dorthna wondered why he had truly saved these people.

  Benevolence.

  At least he liked to think that was the reason. But it was truly not.

  He sighed and turned to the exit of the restaurant. The place had glass walls that helped him see outside. Something boomed in the distance. The ground beneath him shook as if from the effects of an earthquake.

  Then the chaos began, the cries, the wails.

  He knew he should not have had that conversation about the apocalypse with Aurora a few days ago. Still, he’d had it. It was what it was.

  A car zipped passed the road, running straight into the pole of a traffic light. Dorthna felt the driver’s death on impact. A simple death for a B-rank [Accountant]. A loss, but he could not bring himself to say it was a sad one.

  Another explosion boomed in the distance, shaking the ground once more.

  Dorthna walked out of the building to find nothing but chaos and pandemonium. Everything was coming undone. Three portals stood clear and tall one for each block it seemed.

  “So this is how it begins,” he mused. “Phase one.”

  Shaking his head, he walked away as portals continued to open around the world.

  The apocalypse was never a beautiful thing.

  But at least they have time.

  …

  Ark looked down at Spitfire. His tail had been wagging since the first class. Even now the demon was excited. What was annoying was that the only communication the demon shared with him was the sense of happiness and longing and enthusiasm.

  Spitfire was keeping things from him.

  Ark sighed as he returned his attention to his biology class. It would not be the first time that the creature was keeping things from him.

  He would just have to wait it out until Spitfire thought it was time to share with him.

  “Mr. Lockwood,” Mr. Henry said.

  Ark perked up. “Yes, sir.”

  “Can you tell me the strongest part of a [Tritosup]?”

  Ark shook his head. “Unfortunately, I cannot, sir.”

  He didn’t even know what a [Tritosup] was. Sometimes he missed regular old biology where he only had to worry about grasshoppers and normal everyday animals. It wasn’t like he was good at regular old biology either, though. But he at least knew what animals were being talked about when Ms. Eleanor mentioned a name.

  The class chuckled at his response while Mr. Henry frowned in displeasure. The man opened his mouth to say more, maybe reprimand him, but Ark wasn’t listening anymore. Spitfire was tugging on the hem of his pants.

  He looked down at the demon, ignoring his teacher.

  “What do you…” his words died on his lips as Spitfire reached out with one of his claws and struck a stray mana particle as if striking a chord on the string of a guitar.

  The particle vibrated, glowing bright and displacing motes of black particles from it. Ark’s eyes widened at what he saw. He looked from the particle to Spitfire then back.

  Spitfire nodded, as if reading his mind, then it turned and ran out of the class. Ark’s excitement was beginning to mirror Spitfire’s own. There was a touch of dread and worry in it, a fear of failure. But when had the possibility of failure ever held him down.

  Ark got up immediately and bolted for the door.

  “Mr. Lockwood!” Mr. Henry bellowed after him.

  “I’ll be back!” he called over his shoulder. “May I be excused? My stomach hurts. Thank you. You’re the best biology teacher I could’ve asked for.”

  He was already out of the class and sprinting down the hallway before he was even done with his run of words.

  Yes, he thought in excitement.

  Something exciting was happening again.

  The world had been too boring for too long.

  …

  Madness laughed like a child who thought they were supposed to be laughing even though they did not understand what was happening as he bashed in the [Titan]’s head one more time.

  Naymond winced as blood splattered. The woman was still alive, but only barely.

  After the last bash, Madness released her, allowing her to fall to the ground in a confused heap. Then he looked down at her as if something was missing.

  He cocked his head to the side before finally squatting down. Positioned properly, he started picking strands of her hair from her head one at a time. He was very meticulous about it, careful.

  “Ever wondered what hair tastes like?” he asked nobody in particular.

  Considering he and Naymond were the only fully alive people in the room, Naymond felt it safe to assume that he was being addressed.

  “Once,” he said honestly, “as a child.”

  The last thing he wanted was to be dissonant around this version of Madness who had just danced his way through a room full of Gifted as he beat them to an inch of their lives. And Naymond was not exaggerating. Madness had actually danced, waltzing and breakdancing through the entire room.

  It had been terrifying to watch.

  “What did it taste like?” Madness asked, looking at three strands of hair in his hand. “Was it something that you wanted to do again?” He looked at Naymond with empty eyes, and smiling lips. “Is it something you will share with a woman that chose you and cannot find you?”

  Naymond shook his head, doing his best to feign disinterest. “It tasted flat.”

  Madness had the strands of hair close to his mouth now. At Naymond’s words, he stopped.

  “Well, that was boring.” He got up from the ground and tossed the strands of hair aside. “Please send her to whoever she believes in.”

  While he walked away, Naymond cocked his gun and walked over to the woman, what was left of her life.

  When he had come to Romania, he had been prepared to kill so many, to lay waste to lives. To bring ruination.

  But not like this, he thought, sadness choking the very thought.

  This was not what he had in mind. This was… horrid, unfair. These people had not stood a chance against Madness. Not this version of the man that killed with a chandelier that somehow came loose with him touching it, so that it fell on someone’s head and broke their neck.

  This was not a massacre. This was not even a fight. Naymond didn’t know what to call it. And in all of it, all he was tasked with doing was ending the lives Madness brought his victims within an inch of.

  This is a mercy, he reminded himself as he pulled the trigger. The gunshot was loud in his ear. It boomed with sorrow as he ended another life that had never stood a chance.

  Then he walked over to the next person that was alive and did the same. Sadness was a weight on his shoulder as he did what he did. Through it all, Madness stood in the middle of the room with a sad expression on his face. He was a man mourning the death of people who should not have died.

  At least Naymond liked to think of it that way. It helped him humanize Madness, which was probably a stupid thing of him to do.

  “I see that you are not just some ordinary Delver,” a voice said. It was soft yet humorless, filling the room.

  Madness remained in place, as if he did not hear it. Naymond frowned at the tone, the lack of care. The easy dismissal.

  A woman stepped out of the wall as if there had never been a wall there. That was what got Madness’ attention.

  He looked at her now, specifically the wall she stepped out of.

  “Is it solid or is there a trick?” he asked.

  “Solid,” the woman said easily.

  That drew a frown on Madness’ lips. “Dissonant,” he said.

  It was a single word, but it carried with it the weight of judgement. Naymond knew what would happen next. Madness would pull her very mind apart and stitch it back together for the crime of lying to him.

  What he found worthy of thought was how Romania was going to explain the sudden disappearance of one of its most famous and prominent philanthropists. The woman in front of them, Miori Dotesky, was a supplier of blood. She singlehandedly made sure that Romanian hospitals never worried about a lack of blood in their blood banks. Due to her foundation, the government had officially announced that no hospital should charge a patient for blood. Some called her the blood queen with nothing but reverence in her tone.

  Naymond had always suspected that she worked for the council but had never had concrete proof.

  Miori looked from Madness to Naymond. Her attention settled on Naymond.

  “You must be the [Sage],” she said. “Naymond Hitchcock.”

  It’s always the powerful and kind, he thought to himself. The more powerful and kinder a person was, the darker the secrets in their closet.

  “So, you come to me,” Madness said suddenly. “On this day when blood is shed and the innocent die at the hands of a [Sage] to speak to me of dissonance existing in the temporal lobe of permanence that the world lives by.” He folded his arms over his chest now. “You come to me from walls and mirrors with dissonance and love that hides in the heart of the unknown. You come to me on a day when…”

  He paused, blinked as if something had happened.

  “Oh.” It was all he said before turning and walking over to Naymond.

  Naymond grew worried as Madness placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

  “[Sage],” Madness said.

  Naymond swallowed. “Yes?”

  “Survive.”

  A portal opened up behind Madness very suddenly and swallowed him whole. Then it disappeared.

  It had possessed no form.

  Miori and Naymond stood in place, stunned into silence as they stared at each other. Naymond swallowed again.

  It broke the silence, and Miori moved in a blur of motion.

  Naymond’s interface popped up immediately.

  [You have used skill That isn’t Fair]

  [That isn’t Fair (Mastery 31.93%)]

  The Gifted reaches forth and interrupts the formation of an active skill.

  A skill activated in the distance and Naymond prayed to God that he had moved in time.

  …

  Deep in the void, in a place where life did not exist and things are banished to nothingness, something stared. It was not the first of its kind, and Existence had live so long that it would not be the last. Yet, such a thing remained a rarity, a nigh impossibility.

  In its nigh impossibility, life stirred where it had no reason to exist.

  Within the depths of nothingness, something happened.

  Veebee opened its eyes.