210. No Longer An Empire

Jay poured out a bottle of Epic Quality rum Lilith had made for his birthday. The liquor sizzled into vapors on the fresh grass laid over Hailey’s grave. He did the same for Rick’s grave, tipping the bottle slowly until it emptied.

His eyes raised and glanced around a field of grass and white headstones marking Malcolm Campbell Memorial Park. Nobody in the Protectorates got anything special for their headstones other than some words written into the surface of the unidentifiable white material. Each stone was provided from a special stock in YoAnna’s ancestral vault.

Richard O’Kelly: The Jolliest Bastard Around

Hailey Allen: The Most Wicked of Geniuses

It was dark now. The ceremony had ended hours ago, and mostly everyone shuffled off. The only ones remaining were Jay, YoAnna, and their Champions, holding a silent vigil that had lasted for hours.

Before the ceremony, Jay had reasoned they would find ways to laugh. That would be the best way to honor Rick and Hailey. But Jay couldn’t muster the energy to joke. Nor could Casey. Nobody could, really.

Whoever was able to speak without choking up had said some words during the ceremony. But there weren’t enough words in the Multiverse to describe the feeling of hurt aching inside all of them.

Jay was an empath for negative emotions, after all. The Champions were drowning in the stuff. He turned to look at them, seeing the division between the fifteen rulers of Earth.

Mike wouldn’t look him in the eyes and kept his attention on Lilith who clung to him. Macy who stayed in their orbit while spaced out, her mascara streaking down her cheeks. Something was wrong in Mike’s head, but it was up to him to voice it.

Beyond Mike’s clique, there were Frank and Dennis hanging out shoulder-to-shoulder under a tree, sharing bottles. They’d been drinking non stop since the Mighty YoEeka docked.

A nightly breeze brought the scent of heavy cigarette smoke to Jay’s nose, shifting his attention to a more darker sight. Tim and Emily. Jay didn’t keep track of how many cigarettes they’d burned through together, but he wouldn’t be surprised if the Protectorates ran out of boxes soon. They looked like sin vomiting on the streets. They looked like bad decisions waiting to happen. Anger, darkness, and nightly vengeance. Tim and Emily were a concern depending on how they direct their rage.

Outside of the grave, Gatanna’s seated form loomed above the treetops. Fuzzy and Cutie were at her side as the Yogatzilla let out an occasional moan of sadness. Fuzzy had her little hands full with both Gatanna’s sadness and Cutie’s shattered confidence.

“So, uh, does anyone want to head down to the wine cellar?” Casey asked.

Everybody looked up at her with flashes of anger, annoyance, or plain misery. Casey stood her ground, emitting a calm attitude that stood out like a beacon in the night.

“It’s been a while,” Jay said. “Let’s go.”

The leader led the way, and everyone followed. Casey hung back to gently urged the slowest Champions. It took some coaxing on Fuzzy’s part to have Gatanna change into her stalker form, allowing her to slither like a naga and not take up too much space.

They left behind the graves, followed a well-used trail, and took a paved road to the mansion. Patrolling Soldiers stopped to salute them, posing a claw over their heart before Jay dismissed them.

Voices of celebration, booming music, and shouts sounded out from Lionguard Village. A bustling metropolis made itself heard from outside the Pantheon Estate. Protectorate City was undergoing a metamorphosis to accommodate and make use of the surge of people, some of the last remnants of humanity. A lot of them were young, incredibly young. The adults they had there were a precious few now.

The Champions reached the mansion, took a staircase going down, and followed an underground hallway. The setting was warm and filled with the scent of cigar smoke and wood. One of the doorways led to a hangout for [Lesser Fomorians], a private place for their purple-skinned and energetic servants.

The Champions caught a few in the hallway, and the attentive servants stood out of the way and waited to be called upon if needed. If not, they kept their silence, reading the mood of their masters and mistresses flawlessly.

At the end of their journey, Jay pushed open a circular wooden door and entered the wine cellar, a larger complex than one would imagine when first hearing of it. A wooden staircase led them down forty feet to the base floor. Giant wooden barrels surrounded them. Some bore runes that glowed blue or purple or magenta, emitting magical power for the sake of making a mystical batch of wine. Not all of the barrels were for wine, either. The cellar included multiple subsections for different alcoholic drinks.

“In the back, there is a drink I would like us to have,” croaked a voice with little to no power. It took the group some time to realize the voice belonged to YoAnna. “I was saving it for when you all reach Rank 6.”

Rank 6 was considered the beginning of the upper realm of ranker power. Henceforth, you completely leave behind the usual origins of mortal weakness. It didn’t offer complete immortality, but the likelihood of dying to old age or aging at all diminished. Though, as YoAnna’s Champions, they might already have some of those benefits.

“You sure you want to bust it out?” Jay asked.

YoAnna moved ahead with a strange grace that reminded Jay of a ghost, as if she was gliding across the floor. She looked away from him to hide her face, and right on her trail was Brit. The two had been arm-in-arm since the Champions returned, consoling each other like sisters. It didn’t help that Jay might’ve acted a bit too cold to his wives during his time away from work.

“I wonder what it is,” Casey mused, finding her spot behind Jay.

“Let’s see.” Jay followed the path his wives drifted through the cellar.

A pulse of divinity entered the air. The space around them shifted with a purpose. In half a minute, Jay crossed a boundary that took him from the cellar he knew to a more ancient and guarded place.

Dark tree trunks curved around wooden barrels with gold and white leaves covering the ceiling, illuminating the space. The floor was covered in soft, loamy dirt, and from it sprouted black bushes with golden berries. They seemed to have stepped into another world that glinted with gold above and gold below.

Up ahead, one barrel stood out. It was in the yawning mouth of a titanic lion skull, its fangs pinching the barrel in between.

YoAnna stopped in front of the tap and waved her hand, summoning human-sized barrels that stood upright like table stands. One by one, she summoned tall glasses and poured a silver-white drink into each. Once filled, she made them reappear in front of each Champion until they all had a drink.

“Kleo,” Jay called softly.

The [Faerie] squirmed around inside of his chest. Before he tried to call for her again, she slowly crawled out in a dark purple flash and sat on his shoulder. A smaller glass appeared in her hands before YoAnna poured one for herself.

“YoSora’s Laughter, named after my ancestor from eons ago. She was the Multiverse Drink Mistress, and her drinks were favored by many of the [Gods]. This was a time of peace and revelry, a time when the Protectorates made many friends who would go to war with them for any cause. That time has faded, but YoSora’s Laughter remains here for her descendants.”

YoAnna turned to look at them all. Her eyes were blacked out, and her scar was prominent. “This is a Mythical Quality drink. Rank 8. No harm will come to you. It is a drink that is at its tastiest the more powerful you are. But once you drink it, you will feel some compulsion to speak what ills you. You may or may not laugh, but perhaps you will feel lighter.”

Mike took a sip first. The drink fizzled and popped on the way down. The sip turned into a gulp followed by more, as if he couldn’t stop himself from drinking until it was empty except for the foam. His portal-like eyes spun rapidly with Mana particles. Then he fixed his gaze on Jay.

“They’re dead because of us,” Mike said hoarsely. “Me, Lilith, you, and YoAnna. A childhood friendship like ours is a weakness any villain would love to exploit. And Jessica had the power to exploit it. Twice.” Mike combed through his hair shakily. “But Rick and Hailey got in the way. Rick and Hailey died because of–”

Tim became a blur of movement, and before anyone could jump in the way, Jay pressed down with his Gravity Affinity. He stopped anyone who would impede the punch Tim served Mike, knocking the [Mage] through bushes of sweet mythical berries.

YoAnna barely batted an eye at the loss of the berries. Lilith had an acid vial in her hand, but a continuous press of Jay’s gravity warned her from intervening.

“Don’t minimize Rick and Hailey,” Tim said gruffly, eyes red. “They died fighting a monster. Not everything is about you and your fucking childhood bullshit.”

When Mike didn’t move for a few seconds, Tim relaxed a little and lost some of his edge. His eyes veered toward his drink waiting in Emily’s hand. That was when Mike struck with a simple mana bolt that knocked Tim off his feet and into a tree trunk.

“For a second, I thought about letting that punch go,” Mike said. “You will find that I don’t have much patience to be nice right now.”

“Let them fight,” Jay said as Tim got to his feet.

In the course of a minute, the two brawled. Tim blazed with his yellow aura, dashing across the room while avoiding mana bolts from Mike. Each missed shot struck a barrier formed by YoAnna, eliminating further collateral damage.

Tim didn’t bother pulling out a weapon and used his fists to pummel the barriers Mike formed for himself. Anima and magic clashed, Mike’s bolts streaking like blue comets, his barriers crackling with sparks from each hit, as Tim moved like a gale force wind and kept pouring out a barrage of endless punches.

When it seemed like the stalemate would hold, Tim suddenly formed a magic arrow and punched it into one of Mike’s barriers, popping it. A fist flew through the opening. Mike’s genius was fast enough to respond, but he had anger and alcohol in him.

Mike got hit with a good one that broke his nose. He crashed down, sat up, and was about to keep fighting when a purple magic field surrounded him. Jay sent Mike flying up into the ceiling and pinned him there.

“That’s enough.” Jay gave Mike a hard look. “There’s truth to what you’re saying, Mike. But you must remember Jessica was achieving her goals with each Champion death. Little would’ve changed if it was you or Lilith that died instead of Rick and Hailey other than the obvious loss of your powers and positions.” There was more Jay could’ve said attributing to their friendship but left it at that.

Mike’s eyes trembled with inner pain. Once all the tension left his body, Jay released him into Lilith’s awaiting arms and the health potion she had in hand.

Tim was panting like a dog, still tense and ready to fight. It took a few minutes of silence and people enjoying their drink around him before Tim relaxed again and dragged his feet back to his corner. Emily handed his drink to him and rubbed a cold hand around his back.

“The 777th,” Emily said between sips. “Tim and I want to slay the Heavenly Realms Dungeon.”

“So be it.” Jay raised his glass. “To the death of the 777th.” Mostly everyone followed the toast before taking sips.

“Was there a narrative angle for me to hurt her more?” Frank asked. “I did my damndest and felt useless out there.”

“Where are we lacking?” Dennis asked.

“Power. You need more power,” Jay said. “Continue training. Crawl the fuck into the guts of dungeons. Fight and slaughter and discover. Ponder and change. If you feel inadequate, then you fix it by being the best [Fighters] and dungeon crawlers you can be.”

“Aye, Conqueror,” said Frank and Dennis. They raised their glasses again for another toast and sip.

“What about some of us who aren’t real [Fighters]?” Macy asked.

Jay watched her out of the corner of his eye. “Put your all into your craft. And have faith. Your path will diverge for the better soon enough. It’s what Hailey wanted, and it’s what we will ensure.” Jay’s Conviction was palpable, and Macy eased into it, granting him more trust than he expected.

“I wish for more freedom,” Lilith said in monotone. “Please, stop holding me back. Point me at our enemies and let me work.”

“So be it.” Jay took a sip without a toast. “All options are on the table, Lilith. If they are our enemies, make them scream for mercy if you must.”

“Thank you,” she croaked.

“Are we useless?” Cutie asked in the spur of the moment, her eyes burning. “Just let us know. The three of us got left behind. And maybe that’s our fault. I couldn’t do shit against that archangel. Gatanna went down first–” Cutie paused as Gatanna let out a long and hurt moan “–and Fuzzy’s only good for helping.”

“Helping helps, doesn’t it?” Fuzzy asked. “No. Nevermind. I sound stupid, don’t I? I’ll shut up.”

Jay waited for the three monsters to settle down. Everyone waited on his answer. “You are familiars. Your existence is to benefit your owners, and they in turn will help you grow more powerful and capable. The fault lies with your owners for not using you wisely.”

“He’s right,” Mike said hoarsely. “I should’ve utilized you more, kept you close, or given you means to stick with me better. I could’ve implemented designs to help you resist the holy powers better.”

“You did implement those designs!” Fuzzy squeaked. “We weren’t prepared for Rank 6 power. I should’ve stopped and buffed Cutie more, but I was scared for Gatanna. We were focused on her Health.”

“I can heal,” Gatanna hiss. “I ate plenty. I didn’t need the help.”

“Was all our practice for nothing?” Cutie asked. “She made us look like idiots until you pulled out another narrative cheat.”

“The practice was not for nothing,” Jay said. “Think. What were our lives a year and half ago? Nothing like this. Frank, how long does it take for people to become masters at anything?”

“Their whole lives.”

“And we’re taking on a Rank 6 while we’re Rank 4s and a low Rank 5? After only one year and some change?” Jay held up his empty glass and YoAnna refilled it for him. “Our losses are heavy. Our mistakes can be cataclysmic. But I will not let you forget our achievements are far beyond what is normal for crawlers, rankers, or what have you, right, YoAnna?”

“Yes, Conqueror.”

Cutie looked down at her fizzly mythical drink. “Master Mike, we need more time together. I’m your familiar, and sometimes it feels like there’s distance between us.”

“I agree. Let’s fix that going forward, Cutie.” Mike looked at Fuzzy. “You, too.”

“We should move forward with more testing and experimentation for my Adaptive Affinity, Mistress Lilith,” Gatanna said.

“Agreed.”

Jay nodded, feeling the heaviness surrounding his Champions lighten a little. It would take time for them to truly heal, which was a process that wouldn’t go smoothly either, and not always in a positive direction.

Tim and Emily looked like they were going to dive into a suicidal mission to give out wounds as big as the holes in their hearts. Mike continued to avoid Jay’s gaze, which put their friendship on ice for now. And the Champions were less together and more divisive than ever before, especially with the next batch of drama Jay was anticipating to spill over.

“Why did you give Casey the power to kill you, Jay, YoAnna?” Brit said with a cold fury that filled the room with her Conviction.

“I’ve been thinking about it. Maybe it’s just a backward way of making me really strong in certain situations.” Casey shook her glass, ready for her fourth fill of YoSora’s Laughter.

“I wasn’t talking to you.”

“Had my name in your mouth, so I’m obviously included.”

Jay harrumphed loudly, his voice carried by powerful gravity. He scanned the room slowly before shifting over to Brit and grabbing her hand with both of his. Without having to say anything, her fury dissipated. She looked shaken and uncertain.

“It’s not your fault,” he said softly, patting the back of her hand. “It’s not.”

She nodded stiffly in response before Jay turned to look at everyone else.

“It’s hard to kill me. It’s hard to kill YoAnna. But there are worse things than death. Casey’s role is a necessity for us. Which reminds me.” Jay’s eyes of Gravity, Divinity, and Calamity glimmered brightly. “Casey Allen, I elect you as Vice-Chair.”

“Wait, what?” Casey gaped.

“I also wish for you to transition to a more fitting role as a Champion,” YoAnna said quietly. “You are a killer, Casey. My Killer.”

Casey replaced a Title! [Helper Chair of the Multiverse Protectorate Pantheon] → [Vice-Chair of the Multiverse Protectorate Pantheon].

Casey replaced a Title! [YoAnna’s Champion of Challenge and Change] → [YoAnna’s Killer of Challenge and Change].

“On YoAnna’s wicked scar, it’s like we’ve come full circle.” Frank chuckled darkly.

“And Casey is still Casey with a Champion Title starting with a K.” Dennis shook his head. “She’s gonna outshine the rest of us [Fighters] hardcore.”

“Well, I guess I’ll start calling her sensei now.”

“Sensei Casey, this unworthy student begs for instruction.”

“Guys, stop,” Casey whined, her cheeks turning scarlet.

Jay kissed the back of Brit’s hand. He finished another glass of YoSora’s Laughter before he wrapped his tail around YoAnna’s waist and started toward the exit, his [Godling] following without question. Brit stayed back and watched them go in distraught silence.

“Okay, hold up, you two can’t just leave like that.” Casey jumped in the way. Half the Champions tensed, as if fearing for the worst. “Why am I Vice-Chair?”

“Because if you do kill us, just make sure you’re doing it for a good reason. The responsibilities of an entire pantheon will rest on your shoulders afterward,” Jay answered.

“Isn’t that crazy? What if I want that power for myself?”

Jay’s three eyes glimmered. “Do you?”

Casey opened and closed her mouth, unable to answer. Her gaze drifted to YoAnna before looking away. Casey moved aside.

Jay walked his deific wife to the edge where the secret cellar space bordered the usual cellar area. He looked back at his remaining Champions.

“Begin your evolution. Brit will watch over all of you. YoAnna will watch over me. If we have time, we’ll discuss the changes to our pantheon’s government and dig into the details of what we’ll face. But know this. We are no longer an empire. Truthfully speaking, we were never an empire.”

Jay looked forward and let out a slow breath.

“My Champions. We were taught a grave lesson. Our arrogance made us blind to the truth that was right on top of our heads the whole time. The USA was a distraction. A puppet to the larger villains at play. We were never an empire because we’re already being accosted by an empire. The Multiverse System.”

He raised his hand and emitted purple distortions of gravity bending the air and reality above his palm. He stared into the neon fluctuations with rapt fascination.

“How silly were we. How foolish were we. To keep our eyes so focused on the roman circus conjured before us. The hundreds of little fires we tell ourselves to put out. The constant pressure to do all we can for this one planet. And then to see it all demolished, thinking we are victors as long as we are survivors. Unaware of the men and women behind the curtains, laughing at us like we’re their trained monkeys.”

Jay closed his fist. “We are not their monkeys. We are our own entities. So I will stop at nothing until a new path is carved and our power is the pinnacle.”

“Does that still make you a hero of comedy?” Frank asked.

Jay turned and flashed them all a bestial smile, his three eyes glowing even brighter. “More than ever before.”

For the first time, Kleo spoke up. “Mike, Emily, gather all of Hailey’s notes. When Jay and I are done evolving, I want to look over them.”

They nodded in agreement.

Jay removed his sword belt and placed it and The Sword of Comedy on a barrel. “In two weeks time, the Uk-Guk-Gara Incursion will arrive.  You are more likely to evolve ahead of me. Please prepare as much as possible. Vice-Chair Casey will have access to a set of orders I’ve created. See my will done, Champions.”

“Aye, Conqueror,” all the Champions said, pulled out of their melancholy to give a unified verbal assent. It was good to hear all of their voices before he left.

Minus two.