CHAPTER SIXTEEN

In all the universe, only one small, seemingly insignificant spot remained untouched by the death throes of Creation. This simple cottage in an unassuming patch of forest was under the protection of an elder god's miracle. The protection was not quite intentional. Tod himself was completely unaware of this particular subconscious exercise of nigh-omnipotence as was the cottage's single, furry inhabitant.

The Cat was hungry. She did not, technically, need to eat. She was immortal, but she rather liked eating.

It ranked just behind napping as her favorite thing to do. Grooming was a close third. So as she waited for her caretaker to return from wherever he had gone off to, she napped and groomed, and napped and groomed some more. Still, her caretaker did not return, and she considered getting up and catching something herself.

It had been several millennia since she'd actually stalked her dinner. She vaguely recalled the thrill of prowling around, the exhilaration of catching the scent of prey, and the rush as she pounced upon her meal.

The Cat strolled towards the door but stopped halfway. It seemed an awful lot of work. She curled up on the floor and wondered just what had happened to her caretaker. It was not like him to be so irresponsible. For a moment, she worried something might have happened to him. The thought troubled her greatly. If he didn't come back, who would scratch behind her ears? Already, the vaguest sensation of an itch was developing. A swirl of colors in the center of the cottage caught her attention. She spent a full minute debating on whether it was interesting enough to make her get up and investigate before deciding it was.

The Cat curiously prodded the swirling mist. It felt slick and oily. She hopped back, shaking the slippery sensation from her paw. She resisted the urge to lick it as her instincts told her there was something not quite right with the fog. It expanded and thickened, forcing her to unleash her fiercest hiss. Despite that, it continued to grow. She arched her back and flattened her ears. The gathering of errant molecules filled the cottage. The Cat bolted out the door.

The sound of the roof shattering stopped her flight. She turned and watched the atoms join together into the twenty foot tall Overlord of the Damned. His yellow eyes beheld the Cat, and Kalb grinned with sinister delight. "Here, kitty, kitty."

One monstrous hand scooped up the Cat. He held her up by the scruff of her neck. She hissed and spat, nicking his nose with a swipe of her claws.

Kalb chuckled.

"Let me go," she growled.

"No," he replied with a smug grin.

The Cat called upon her shape shifting powers and became a large and fearsome Northern Hill ogre, a breed of monkey-like thing that brought terror into the hearts of all Wa'suria. Kalb was unimpressed.

His viper tail snapped at the snack, but he slapped it down.

"Not yet."

Dissatisfied, the serpent sank its fangs into the small of his back.

Kalb spread his black wings and soared into the air. He paused above the cottage just long enough to hurl a fiery wad of spittle that set the forest ablaze.

The Cat became a swamp goblin, and her slick skin nearly slipped free of his grip. The Overlord of the Damned snickered, and she reverted to her natural form.

"That will be enough of that."

He took a moment to enjoy the aflame cottage before opening a portal across the realms and crossing over to the cursed Hollows once again.

The Realm of the Damned had suffered much during his absence, but a domain of eternal torture was difficult to truly destroy. The Lake of Jagged Frost was on fire and looking decidedly unsharp. Mount Skraah, the realm's tallest peak, had been reduced to a mildly impressive hill, greatly reducing its boulder pushing value. The Pit of Squirmy, Terribly Unpleasant Things was now just a plain (though still not terribly pleasant) smoking hole in the ground. The damage beyond that was mostly insignificant.

Kalb disliked this turn of events. Over the ages, he had grown to despise the Hollows, but it was still his kingdom. He would remove the troublesome intruders. Then, he would kill Tod and take the elder god's power for his own. And then, as a nigh-omnipotent despot he would twist Desaphanus's precious universe into a glorious perversion.

"Won't that be fun?" he asked the Cat.

She hissed and squirmed in his grip.

He winged his way towards the sounds of battle, arriving on a raging skirmish. On one side, a pair of Tenalpian war eggs. On the other, his own infernal minions alongside Desaphanus's holy servants.

Kalb cracked a grin. He could never have envisioned such a cooperative effort. Were Desaphanus still alive, the old sourpuss would have been fuming. The thought amused the Overlord of the Damned to no end.

He held back for a moment and watched the battle unfold. Xyreen, the Overblown Ego of Desaphanus, actually stood in the midst of the conflict, attempting to bring some semblance of organization to the fight.

She was doing a surprisingly good job. The eggs fired in every direction but were outmaneuvered by their opponents. It was only a matter of time before the eggs suffered defeat, but Kalb didn't feel like waiting.

He leapt into the middle of the fight with such force, the ground cracked beneath his feet.

The eggs turned on this new threat, but even state-of-the-art Tenalpian military technology was no match for the Overlord of the Damned in his own domain.

They fired a colorful assortment of death rays. Kalb called upon the stone. It raised up to shield him from the blast. He stamped his foot, and a giant claw of stone grew from the ground. With one quick swat, one egg was hurled into another. They met with a hard crack and wobbled in the air.

A crackling ball of black electricity formed on his open hand. He flicked it towards the eggs and turned away, not even bothering to watch as the ball engulfed its targets. The gleaming metal ships boiled and popped, reduced to slag in a matter of seconds.

Kalb's Legion gawked.

Desaphanus's Army gaped.

Staggia stepped from the throng. "You're alive."

"Indeed, I am."

Kalb cast his gaze upon the collection of angels and demons. His eyes stopped on Xyreen.

"I must say I'm surprised you'd sully yourself in the trenches, my dear."

Xyreen flashed a hard glare. "These are hard times, Kalb."

"Indeed they are." He handed the Cat over to Staggia. "Take good care of this. I'll be needing it later.

So, my dear Xyreen, what will it be? Shall we fight amongst ourselves, or can the eternal conflict be put aside long enough to take care of our common inconvenience?"

Xyreen knew the answer best for the universe, but she was loath to make it. The Overlord of the Damned and Divine Wisdom of Desaphanus had never gotten along very well, even in the time before his Fall. Back then, she'd resented his place at the side of the creator, and he had gotten no end of amusement in reminding her of that. The many millennia had not dulled her resentment.

"I am the lesser of two evils," he observed. "Admittedly, by a very small margin."

"For the sake of the universe," she spat out through a tightly clenched beak.

And somewhere, she knew, Desaphanus was rolling over in his grave.