"I think I have to get a closer look at that," Nime stated, as she looked at the mountain. "If a god has truly resurfaced here it could lead to endless troubles."

  "Some code of ethics from the people who killed nine tenths of this city?" Banks asked raising an eyebrow.

  "We aren't a homogenous group," Nime stated. "And while I admit to caring little for humans of this age, I'm a bit wary about strange gods suddenly waking up. Besides it might lead to a good fight if nothing else."

  "It's called the Festering Stream," Banks stated. "It's a god that rules over entropy, the collapse of civilization and the ending of ages. It's represented by stagnant, sweet smelling water."

  "That is a new one," she said, drumming her fingers against her arm. "Any relation to the River?"

  "Maybe," Banks said. "I'm not crazy enough to use it as an alternate water source to refine my Sacred Body if that's what you're asking."

  "Where's your sense of ambition," the orc said grinning.

  "That thing rots civilizations," Banks stated coolly. "I'm already lazy enough. I don't want to stagnate any further. I also happen to as a matter of fact quite like civilization."

  "I don't like civilization," the orc admitted. "In truth I don't even have many good feelings about this future so far beyond my life and the life of my race. But even I don't think the return of that god is a good thing."

  "You're lying," Banks said. "You've basically given up on my sister arriving and you're determined that if you're going to die it's going to be by stopping a god."

  "Read me like a book," the orc said, as she stepped forward leaving Banks behind. "But this isn't such a bad deal. Since the next two days are going to disappear then it means that my continued life ultimately doesn't matter. But from a different perspective it means that my death, should it even occur, isn't permanent. Once again Nime slips the reaper."

  "You won't remember any of it," Banks pointed out. "Likely we will meet again and then we will have a similar first interaction."

  "I did a lot of amazing things that I don't ultimately remember," Nime stated. "Besides you will and whether I win or lose I'm sure that you will tell a different version of myself that I went to fight a god. As long as you remember won't I still exist in a way."

  "I genuinely hate that mindset," Banks sighed. "But I am going to."

  "Unless you see your sister," Nime quibbled. "Then you just tell her to hurry up and fight me." She stopped a few dozen meters ahead of him before crouching down. Banks jumped back a few dozen more meters as the ground cracked beneath her feet for a split second before a blast of wind hit as the sound barrier was shattered in an instant. Like a reverse meteor she flew into the sky curving downwards and slamming far off into the distance causing the earth to quake. Banks waited for a good few moments hoping for either an explosion of mana or some dreadful force of impact, but none arose. Whatever confrontation would occur it would not be one of sheer power against power, probably something subtler. Either way, no fun to watch.

  He was surprised to find a twinge of disappointment, although whether he wasn't sure whether it was due to the fact that he wouldn't get to see a kickass fight, the fact that he wouldn't get a second pair of hands to help him lug away loot, or something else that he was not quite self aware enough to identify. Needless to say, there was a market that was still unlooted, and he decided to not let that travesty stand. The apocalypse always brings out the best specials.

  xxx

  Banks sat cross-legged at the window side table idly reading a menu at an open restaurant. In his left hand a dancing image of a Rainbow Salmon, a fish that was said to bring good luck to anybody that ate it. This image was courtesy of a ring that he had acquired from a trinket shop, the cheap kind that you would give to children as a birthday or Christmas present. Unfortunately many of the really heavy magical creations were locked in such a way that they couldn't be operated until he paid. Double unfortunately this security system was not one that he recognized and seemed nearly omnipresent. He was quite miffed that a cape that supposedly transformed into massive raven wings was essentially locked to him, until he found an appropriate ne'er do well. It did still present a stylish figure though, looking like several feathers stitched together but without the unethical questions regarding clothes made of feathers.

  He bit a piece of Sable licorice, nearly moaning in pleasure as the feeling in his mana veins. Cracked, worn and torn veins were slowly restored by the cold feeling bursts and the remaining clogs slowly collapsed, dissolving into clumps of ethereal mana. Sable licorice was absurdly expensive but in terms of Mana Vein development it was basically second to none and the feeling of mana flowing in, then flowing out in increasing waves was the best that he had felt in a long, long while. He brought his hand to his face and was unsurprised to find it covered by a thin layer of grime as turbid mana long held within his body was squeezed out. At the current rate he would soon reach the cap of one thousand, all thanks to the power of looting.

  "Good Afternoon, I will be your waiter today," a voice like honey spoke up and Banks turned his head to see a familiar face, before he nearly burst his sides laughing. Standing in front of him, holding a notepad and dressed in a waitress uniform with a skirt was Trisk Trinorim, most probably the architect of all the shit that was going on inside this town. It was a pink waitress uniform with a matching cap and he was putting on that brusque customer service worker half-frown employed by those who lived in nations that didn't rely on getting tips. "When you're ready to order sir."

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  "What, was there no money in destroying the city so you have to pick up a sidegig," Banks chuckled.

  "Money isn't really an issue, but there is currently nothing else that I need to do at this present time," Trisk stated. "The disadvantages of being too good at your job. I will let the others run around trying to sort out their own lives for now."

  "I wouldn't know," Banks admitted. "Never had that problem. Why are you in a dress?"

  "I wouldn't expect this kind of bigotry from somebody who can travel in time," the man said. "Maybe I identify as a girl."

  "Great, there are pills in the fifth millennia that can change your gender," Banks said. "Let me out of the loop and I can go and grab one for you."

  "Oh, you sound like you're familiar with them?" Trisk inquired.

  "Spent a year as a woman, was an interesting time in my life," Banks said. "I'm fairly certain you're just wearing a dress to fuck with me, though."

  "Guilty," Trisk admitted. "Still, do you want anything from the menu. I visited this place in the past and the food is quite good."

  "Yeah, do you have Three Windows Soup?" Banks asked.

  "No, and we don't have Saint Beetle Brew either," Trisk said. "Honestly, do you think that if I had Three Windows Soup I would give it to you and not drink it myself."

  "Honestly the fact that you wouldn't give it to me and drink it yourself is likely the reason why you will never, ever obtain it," Banks said mercilessly.

  "And you have had the opportunity to drink it," Trisk queried.

  "I did," Banks admitted, thinking back to that fated day. "But I didn't. Enlightenment is a terrifying thing." The simple bowl of thin silver soup, two orbs floating in a strange rotation, like planets orbiting an invisible star. He ran that day, but even now he could never quite forget the date. That soup was still there, always there, still warm, still waiting. Despite his immortality, he feared that to consume it would taint his future and past memories, until this 'him' died.

  "Well I can whip up a mean Imperial Breakfast," Trisk said cheerfully.

  "Oh, really, that's great," Banks said jolting back to the present. "I like my eggs scrambled."

  "Right away," Trisk said as dozens of threads materialized around him, stretching out to the kitchen, slipping into the door. "It will be around ten minutes."

  For a few moments the two sat in awkward silence as Banks had one last piece of licorice and the two stared out of the window, not really talking. Time stretched as a few random drops of orange and black slid down the window, a remnant from the eruption half an hour ago.

  "So, summoning a god," Banks stated after a long whilte.

  "Not really summoning," Trisk admitted.

  "So unsealing a god then," Banks corrected. "Why?"

  "Why not?" Trisk asked. "We agreed that you would not probe any further into the situation. Don't tell me you've changed your mind."

  "I haven't," Banks quickly said. "But you have to admit that under a lot of circumstances unsealing a god is a bad idea. Unless you're a devotee of that god, but you don't strike me as a cultist."

  "When you hear 'God' what is the first thing that pops into your mind?" Trisk asked.

  "I can practically hear the capitalization of the term," Banks said leaning back into the comfy cushion of his chair. "God, huh. I suppose...it would have to be the first Modern God Dyeus."

  "Modern," Trisk stated cocking an eyebrow.

  "That's the part you react to," Banks mused. "I mean god worshipped by humans. Not some eldritch horror from beyond the stars, or some primordial spirit of nature, or some terrible creature from prehistory worshipped as a god. Dyeus was the first god and it's creation led to the destruction of the nursery and hundreds of thousands of years of humans existing as tribes ruled by their own individual lesser gods."

  "Sounds like a terrifying being," Trisk said idly, as the door to the kitchen swung open and plate after plate flew in, laden with sausages, eggs, bread and some local vegetables. It was the spitting image of a standard Imperial breakfast.

  "The downside of trying to create an omnipotent all encompassing god," Banks said as he picked up a knife and fork. "For all their genius, they never considered what would happen if they created something that embodied all disease, and all cures, all predators, and all prey, all death, and all life, all cold and all hot, all evil and all good. The resulting being was born only briefly before it blew itself apart and took a good portion of the planet with it. All modern gods were born as a result of the explosion and humanity was rendered far lesser for a long, long time."

  "But is it the god's fault for wanting to be born?" Trisk asked and Banks felt a sudden understanding. Trisk Trinorim last of the Trinorim royal family slaughtered by the Undying Emperor, he couldn't have had an easy life despite his power.

  "Of course it wasn't the god's fault," Banks said taking small bites of his food. "I doubt that god was even sapient. Or if it was then it must have embodied mindlessness in equal measure. It was precisely the fault of those who had the mind to create the god, and because of their action the Eye of the Apocalypse still covers one twentieth of the planet surface."

  "I've never seen the Eye," Trisk admitted.

  "How could you, it's on the other side of the planet," Banks said. "Nobody lives there, few can survive there. It's a place where the laws of the planet are particularly malleable and where gods are born and die regularly." For a few minutes the two sat in silence as Banks ate, before a feeling of dread started to crawl up his neck as a familiar set of senses locked on.

  "Mind if step away from you, for a bit," Trisk said, as he got up from the table and took a couple steps backwards. "Looks like you being eyed up by something a bit fierce."

  "Okay, how the fuck are you perceiving that," Banks said. "That thing doesn't even exist in normal space."

  "I eat my vegetables," Trisk said. "Is that a god by the way."

  "It wasn't formed by the splintering of Dyeus," Banks said. "Could count as an Ancient God I guess, but the definition of that is just anything that isn't a Modern God. Pretty hard things to define actually."

  "I can imagine," Trisk said. "Oh well, enjoy the next loop."

  "I wi___" Banks started seconds before he was sliced to shreds by higher dimensional jaws.