Chapter 1 [Good Talk | Kyle]

"I'm afraid the catastrophe is already upon us…" An old man looked wearily over the group of men and women gathered before him. The last members of the Human Races were assembled in this underground chamber, a testament to how few were left.

The Council had done everything possible to preserve the Humans' way of life. Magical and physical barriers had been erected all around their territory… but it hadn't been enough. There, the last hundred survivors stood, looking up at the old man with fearful yet resolute gazes.

He sighed, his age showing in his raspy breath. For months, he viewed the situation from every angle, but he couldn't see another way out. The Elves and Dwarves to the east and west had been eliminated. To the north, the great Dragons were being pushed back, having refused to assist or join the Lower Races.

The ground trembled slightly, likely from another of the many barriers being shattered as the Demon army made its way inward. He turned his attention to the walls, floor, and ceiling where tens of thousands of intricately carved runes had been etched into the earth.

After inspecting the Formation, he nodded and placed four fingers from his right hand onto his left shoulder. The others repeated the gesture, some with three fingers and others with two.

"It's time," he motioned to the members of the Council, who worked to situate the remaining Humans into each of the carved circles spread throughout the massive Formation. Some individuals stumbled as another explosion shook the chamber, this one much closer than the last.

They brushed themselves off and proceeded to their proper places without a change to their demeanor. There was no time for indecision or losing composure. These individuals were hand-picked for this assignment, and they knew what was at stake.

The few open spaces in the outer Formation were soon loaded, and the Council rushed to fill the inner ring. Standing in one of four spaces in the center, the old man watched as the Formation was filled… and then he began to chant.

His voice resounded throughout the chamber, carrying much further than any Human should have been capable. A blue aura shone around him, and tendrils of translucent blue extended, reaching toward the auras that now radiated from every man and woman present.

As one, each tendril meshed with another aura, and every Human began to chant in sync with the old man. A cacophony of voices merged, and a brilliant blue luster erupted from the surrounding Formation. Runes projected from the ceiling and cast themselves down upon the individual mages. Pain erupted in each of them, but none dared stop chanting.

Inside their minds, a peculiar event was taking place. The vast oceans of energy that comprised each of their consciousnesses were being shredded and condensed. One by one, the last members of the human race began to fall as the condensed power was ripped from their bodies.

Those who fell first stood on the outer ring of the Formation. Blood erupted from every orifice as the energy departed, leaving them nothing more than dried husks on the radiant floor.

Before long, only the Council in the inner ring was left standing. The vast pools of energy within each of them took longer to condense, prolonging the pain and suffering of rending their souls. They fell slowly, one after another, as their bodies shrunk and aged.

The Formation greedily drew in every remnant of their essence, not stopping even when only four individuals remained standing in the center. Three elderly women chanted and gazed at the grizzled man in the center with hopeful eyes.

His hands worked furiously, drawing pattern after pattern in the air, each bursting into light as they took the shape of intricate Runes. He spun slowly, tears welling in his eyes when he saw the blood streaming from their bodies.

The chanting stopped, and the man forced himself to watch as the first two women fell. His hands almost stopped moving as his body instinctually tried to reach out. He slowly turned to face the final member of the Council.

"I love you," it was hardly a whisper in the rushing vortex of energy that surrounded them, but he heard it clearly. The last of his being reached out, struggling to form a connection with what remained of hers.

"Let us live our next life in harmony," through their connection, every emotion they felt in that moment was shared between the two. The woman collapsed, her knees striking the ground before she fell flat at the altar.

The tears the man held back gushed forth in a torrent, turning a deep red as his essence continued to drain. His hands moved faster, one Rune after another erupting from his fingertips. Abruptly, the man ceased his movements… and his body disintegrated.

A maelstrom of energy burst from his being, flooding the room with a haze of blue light. The Formation worked furiously, flickering in and out of existence as it tried to draw in this wellspring of energy. After several minutes, the room was void of every trace of the essence that had been given, and the Formation gradually faded into nothingness.

***

Thunk!

The cavern wall shuddered violently. Debris fell from the ceiling of the stone lair, showering the bloody scene below.

Thud! Craack!

Cracks splintered across the wall, and one chunk of stone after another tumbled inward. A shriveled grey face poked through one of the gaps, its four eyes peering curiously into the room. The eyes moved independently of each other as they surveyed the scene.

"It'ssss all clear…" the creature hissed and backed away from the crumbling wall. Another impact bashed the wall, and the weakened structure gave way, collapsing to reveal three hideous forms waiting on the other side. One proceeded casually, its body made of nothing but tentacles and hundreds of multi-colored eyes. A slick, inky substance secreted from its limbs as it moved forward.

Its many eyes darted around to chamber, surveying the bloodied and broken corpses of the humans littered about the place. The stone was clean aside from the blood splattered across the place. No tricks, no last-ditch efforts. The Humans had come to this place to perish where their cores couldn't be taken.

"Hahaha!" the aberration's voice resounded through the chamber, sounding as if it came from everywhere and nowhere. Four of its eyes swiveled to the small, grey creature. "Tell the Lord the Humans are finished."

Swiftly, the creature retreated. It sped up the recently carved tunnel and leaped out beneath the night sky. A colossal figure stood silently, perched above the makeshift entrance and looking patiently at the stars above.

"Lord-" the diminutive creature made to speak but was directly interrupted.

"One day, it will all be ours…" the terror's voice rumbled, shaking the ground beneath it.

"Lord…" the creature swallowed and tried again. "Our business with the Humans has concluded. It seems they preferred to end themselves rather than allow us to assimilate their power. There wasn't a trace of life in the chamber."

The Lord only spared the creature a glance at the news, "There is more to what you saw than self-destruction. Not that it matters now."

"My Lord..?"

"Just prepare the troops to move out," the Lord spoke evenly. "It's time we end the Dragons' resistance."

"As you wish," the grey figure bowed and rushed away.

The towering creature continued its observance of the night sky, its eyes not shifting from a single point. As it scrutinized the space, a cluster of stars shifted and glided across the heavens.

None of the Lord's servants were present to hear the sad sigh that escaped its chest.

***

Kyle's eyes fluttered open. He looked around frantically for a moment before realizing he was home, sprawling back on the couch. He calmed down, and a movement on his lap made him look down, where he found his six-year-old daughter splayed across his legs with drool hanging from her lips.

He chuckled silently and wiped the drool away with the tail of his shirt. The little blonde-haired girl snorted and wriggled closer, curling up tightly against his stomach. Kyle tenderly patted her head before settling back on the couch with a frown.

That dream…

Gently massaging his temples, Kyle sat back with his eyes closed and tried to recall what had happened. He'd dreamed of some of those characters before in different settings. That particular dream… well, it had just been depressing. He opened his eyes and gazed at the return grille in the ceiling.

Hmm… looks like it's time to change the air filter again. Damn. I swear I just did it not too long ago, didn’t I?

He glanced at his watch and saw it was already two in the morning. Moving slowly, he lifted his daughter and carried her to bed, cautiously maneuvering around the many stuffed unicorns that covered her bedroom floor.

"I love you, Littles," Kyle tucked her in and kissed her forehead before stealthily leaving the room. He crept across the hall and walked carefully into another room, biting his lip when he stepped on a tiny Lego.

He limped over, knelt by the wooden bunkbed, and saw his youngest son sleeping peacefully with a stuffed Cthulhu in his arms--a toy he'd begged for during their last visit to the bookstore. It wasn't really in their budget, but he couldn't deny the little runt.

It hadn't been an easy year. At the end of the previous year, Kyle's company went under due to the pandemic, and they only managed to settle their debts by cashing out his 401k. He'd worked a few odd jobs from there, which had been floating them along throughout the year, but funds were getting tight again.

He'd tried to find another job repairing industrial heating and air units, but most factories were still shut down, and no one was hiring. On the residential side, no one he spoke with wanted a diagnostic technician. They wanted salesmen. Still, he was good with money, and his kids were warm and fed. That's what mattered. There… just wouldn't be any extras for a time.

Ah, well. That little gig I got in the mornin’ ought to pay pretty good if the problem is what I think it is. I know damn well that ol’ Stumpy ain’t had his equipment maintenanced since he went in on that strip mall last year, so the coils gotta be filthy. Filters prolly ain’t been changed either. I’ll give ‘em a good price and try an’ get a quarterly contract with ‘em. Hell, maybe he can get me in touch with the other owner. Pretty sure Stumpy said ol’ boy has a few other facilities that need lookin’ after. One with an ol’ chiller that’s been givin’ ‘em trouble in the warmer months. Hard to find a tech ‘round here that’s worth a damn that ain’t workin’ for someone chargin’ an arm and a leg.

Kyle pulled the covers up over his boy—knowing they’d just get kicked off again after a half-hour or so—and stood, looking at the neatly made and empty top bunk. His oldest son would have been there, but he was at his mother's for the week. Summer had only recently ended, but Kyle was already looking forward to the next so they could spend more time together. He laid his hand on the untouched pillow and sighed before leaving the room, grunting as he stepped on the same Lego as before.

Gods damnit!

He hobbled over to the fridge, grabbed a cold beer, and walked out the back door, not wanting to end the quiet that pervaded his home. That would end in a few hours when he woke his wife to prepare breakfast. Kyle would get the kids up and ready for their lessons, and his mother would arrive in the late morning and facilitate their homeschooling—she was good with that, but he did have to watch her lest she push his kids as hard as she’d pushed him. That was something he didn’t want them to experience, and he didn’t want them growing up feeling like they weren’t good enough just because they brought home a B+ instead of an A.

Maybe if I hadn’t growed to hate it so much, I’dda gone to college instead o’ goin’ into the trades. With some kinda physics degree, maybe they’d let me teach full time out at the community college instead o’ just the two nights a week I get now. Teachin’ full time wouldn’t be too bad now that I ain’t gotta work myself to death no more. Not that I regret the path I chose. I ain’t in debt an’ the money’s damn good when there’s work to be had… He twisted his back awkwardly, and it cracked in several places… but damn, if it ain’t bad on these bones.

Hell, I might could still go if I wanted. Prolly been too long for ‘em to accept my four-point-eight GPA from my ol’ transcript. Hmm… I think Miss Green is still the counselor down at the school. I’ll give her a call on the way to that job tomorrow an’ see what she thinks. If there’s a way to skip some o’ the classes an’ just take the Math an’ Physics exams needed for a degree, I’d be willing. Lucky I got in a trade where I still use most of what I learned in those subjects. Might be fine in English. Eh… prolly wouldn’t do so well if Chemistry or Biology are required…

He sat his drink on the side of his grill, then relieved himself off the edge of the porch before cracking open the can. Kyle took a deep swig of the sweet nectar and sighed in contentment. He stretched his shoulders and looked around the yard.

The brisk October air felt nice on his skin, so instead of going back inside, he climbed onto the kids' trampoline and gazed up at the night sky. This was his favorite time of year. Not too hot, not too cold, just right for drinking a glass of whiskey on the porch swing or working on one of his projects in the garage without sweating too much.

He glanced at the nearby swingset and played back the past weekend. His ex-wife and her husband had come over so all the kids could play together. Kyle threw some patties on the grill, and his wife—Leah—made a casserole while keeping their glasses topped off.

The kids had a great time, especially once the neighbor's kids came to join the fun. Their parents followed, driving their golf carts and bringing their own beer to drink as they chatted and watched the youngins run around.

This was a mostly good neighborhood, and the house had been in his family for a while. Kyle had taken over the mortgage after his cousin hit the slammer for drug abuse—it took months and a lot of money to bring the place back up after what it went through, but they'd done it. It was either that or it went to the county, and Kyle wouldn't let the house his grandpa built go, not like that.

Even after making the place one of the nicest in their little community and making friends with most of the neighbors, there were still a few who looked at him and his wife as if they were the criminals. He'd tried to be amicable at first, but after having the cops called on him every time he played his music a bit too loud—even in the middle of the day—he'd stopped with the niceties, even going so far as to turn his music a bit louder—during reasonable hours, of course. If they wanted something to gripe about, he’d be happy to give it to ‘em.

Kyle had known a few of the deputies, which helped the situation, but they'd had to follow protocol regardless. After so many visits without there being any evidence of wrongdoing, the two busybodies who’d made the complaints were flagged as 'nuisance callers', and the problem fixed itself. Sure, it was water under the bridge at this point, but that didn’t mean those occurrences hadn’t been embarrassing. Even after the officers profusely apologized, it didn't change the fact that they'd been seen in the yard, and word spread. It had taken a few barbeques and some beer to fix his reputation with the other neighbors—which he wouldn’t have bothered with if it weren’t for some of their kids being the same age as his. Looking back, it had been worth it.

At least things are better now.

Kyle turned to look at the large brick home where he'd spent countless days as a boy. He took another sip of his beer, then sighed.

Even if Grandpa built it, it's just a house. I'dda left if things had kept on. The last thing I want is for my kids to get picked on cause o’ some crusty old couples. What I wouldn’t give—

A flash of light broke Kyle's gaze away from the house. He jerked his head and squinted at the stars, wondering if it had been his imagination. Then, there was another flash, and a line of white streaked across the night sky. He opened his eyes wide to watch it pass.

The hell was that?

Kyle watched the sky closely. That hadn't been a meteorite or any sort of space debris—which he'd seen plenty of thanks to his countless nights driving through little nowhere towns when he was working. No, this had been more… true to the term "shooting star."

Another flash… and then another. Again and again, the stars brightened in the night sky and zipped away until it seemed it was the Earth itself flying through the night. He watched in awe until the sky stilled some minutes later.

"What in the Sam Hill…?" Kyle glanced at the can he was holding, took a long, hard look at the beer, wondered if something was in it, then turned back to study the sky.

Hmm… that ain’t right… Where's Cepheus..? Grus..?

Kyle stared uncertainly up into the night. As usual, there were hundreds of thousands of teeny lights twinkling in the darkness. Yet these lights seemed… foreign. He jumped up, and his foot caught on the trampoline's springs in his haste to scramble down, twisting his ankle and causing him to fall face-first into the dirt. One arm stayed high in the air, holding his drink upright.

I swear. If it ain't one thing, it's another. He glanced at his hand and grinned. Didn't spill a drop.

"Ungh," grunting, Kyle hauled himself to his feet, chugged the rest of the beer, rubbed his back, and then stumbled inside to grab his phone. He flipped it open, glad to see that there was still a connection. With a few swipes, he'd opened pages on Twitter and Reddit to see if there were any posts about what just happened.

Nothing.

I know I ain’t imagined that… Well… Kyle looked at his empty beer can. Nah… Whatever that warp speed nonsense was, it really happened. Maybe there'll be an article in the morning.

He tossed the can in his recycle bucket, then hobbled toward his bathroom and began to strip. He unclipped the Glock 19 that stayed tucked in his belt and put it on a nearby shelf—one too high for his kids to reach. His belt was next, then he tossed his shirt and jeans in the hamper. Standing in front of the mirror, he couldn't help but make a face at the changes the years and beers had brought to his body.

Kyle wasn't quite thirty, but his dark brown hair was already receding—though he'd taken to growing the top long, shaving the sides, and braiding it back down the middle. After dressing up for a few Viking and Renaissance conventions with his friends, he'd just decided to keep it that way. He had brilliant eyes that regularly alternated between cloudy blue or light grey. A thick, curly beard hung from his chin and stopped at the top of his oversized belly.

Out of habit, he flexed his biceps. His shoulders were broad, his neck was thick, and his chest was beefy and covered by hair. He still had thick arms from lifting weights and turning wrenches, but he didn't eat right, and the most cardio he'd seen in years had been with his wife in the bedroom. Kyle's thighs were as thick as small trees, and his calves were sturdy, a testament to spending nearly a decade toting an eighty-pound toolbag up and down ladders for work. Hauling hundreds of pounds of tools back and forth across scorching factory roofs did wonders for his squat max.

Even though everything else looked fine, he couldn't help but frown at his gut. Too many nights at the bar with his friends and being spoiled by his wife's cooking had ruined those washboard abs he'd held so dear in his late teens.

Kyle splashed water on his face and toweled off before climbing into bed, where he pulled out his phone and checked again for any news. Many folks were talking about the incident now, but he couldn't find any official announcements about what the hell happened.

At least I know I didn't imagine it.

Kyle snorted. Since there wasn't any relevant information, he switched to his light novel app and spent the next few minutes reading the latest releases. That done, he thumbed through his other apps hoping to catch a new episode of one of his favorite animes, but nothing had been released yet.

"Mmm… Kyle..?"

"Oh hell, I'm sorry, honey. I didn't wake you, did I?" Kyle asked softly as his wife moved closer. He breathed deeply as the softness of her body pressed against him. "Sorry. Gettin’ the little critters to sleep took a while, an’ I passed out in there on the couch."

"Mmmh…" she buried her face between his arm and pillow. "Maybe the next one won't be such a night owl."

He didn't answer, only holding her close and staring at the ceiling. They'd tried for another over the past year, but there were… complications. Only recently had it seemed that Leah stopped blaming herself for… the incident… and wanted to try again. Anger flared, and he balled his fists as memories of that night resurfaced, but he forced them down and let out a sigh.

Alright, cool your jets. Nothin’ like that’ll happen again. Not with me standin’ in front of her.

He gathered himself and decided to change the subject. Making her feel bad by saying something stupid was the last thing he wanted—and if that were an Olympic sport, he’d take home the gold.

"Oh, yeah! The damnedest thing happened earlier. There were thousands o’-"

Kyle was interrupted by a loud snore coming from under his arm. He chuckled and kissed Leah’s forehead before rolling over and getting comfortable.

"Good talk."