Bogeyman

Now, one thing some people commented on was: “What was the point of Devas going to this world?”

Devas mentioned some reasons before going to the Amalgama World, but I’ll add a few more here and be more specific:

First: to have a “base” world that isn’t Terraria. A world that is a modern Earth, without an apocalypse or overwhelming chaos. A place where he can establish himself, gather resources, access technology, the internet, and so on.

Second: he’s still messed up. As he himself said, Devas is not at 100%. Going to dangerous worlds right now would be stupid—especially with the Shadowflame still “evolving” and the Chalice being fragile.

A large part of his attention is literally focused on not being consumed by the “void.”

Give him a week, guys. Be patient.

Third: he just wanted to go home.

Something simple, silly, almost childish—but that’s how it is. The Earth of the Amalgama World isn’t his Earth, but it is a modern Earth. He always felt like a “foreigner” in the worlds he visited. Is there really any guilt in wanting to go home, even if it isn’t truly your home?…

[Hiraeth (pronounced “ree-ey-th”) is a Welsh word that describes a deep nostalgia or longing for a home one cannot return to—or that may never have existed.]

Anyway, I won’t ramble too much here.

Good night, and enjoy the read!

(P)(A)(T)/CalleumArtori.

[...]---[...]

It had been just over ten minutes since I arrived in this world.

I kept part of my attention on my surroundings while collecting the mission rewards. Honestly, the easiest mission I’d ever done:

-//-

Objective: Enter the world! (Complete!)

Reward: Minimap Update (Missions). Mission Book. (Complete!)

-//-

The Minimap Update was far simpler than I expected. Almost nothing changed, except for the fact that question marks could now appear on the minimap, signaling possible missions.

Even if a mission was outside the minimap’s range, the question mark would appear at the very edge, pointing in the direction where it was located.

At least for this specific mission.

I didn’t know how it worked for others, but since there were no more visible question marks, it was probably something exclusive to this being an initial mission.

The colors of the question marks also varied based on mission rank and whether or not there was a time limit to accept them.

I also had to get close to the mission’s location in order to accept it.

In this case, the body of the question mark showed the difficulty color, while the dot below it indicated the time limit. If the dot was the same color as the question mark, there was no time limit; if it was black, there was.

I could see the remaining time by clicking on the dot.

Overall, useful and straightforward.

The Mission Book was a bit more complicated, but still relatively simple. It was a physical book with a black leather cover and white, unlined pages.

Basically, a normal book. The difference was that it was divided into sections, each one representing a mission rarity or difficulty.

Whenever I completed a mission or found one on the map, the book updated itself automatically, recording it and organizing everything like a journal.

Even missions I had already completed were there.

One “White” difficulty mission, Demon Slayer; one “Blue” difficulty mission, Highschool of the Dead; and all the others of Rainbow rarity, which were the emergency missions in Remnant, dungeon missions, and world missions from Terraria.

Looking back… I really hadn’t done many missions outside of Terraria.

I closed the Mission Book I was holding in my left hand and stored it in my inventory. I grabbed the Slick Cane with my right hand and resumed my leisurely walk.

I also had my title concealment fully active, along with a constant state of “Hallucination” around me.

I had just looked directly at paradise, touched an angel with my own hands, and on top of that, I had a vague feeling that I might’ve licked that same angel too…

Any amount of concealment now was barely enough.

My insanity only went so far!

I walked casually along the right side of the highway I’d found after trekking for several kilometers, still on the asphalt. The Stream had dropped me in the middle of some random forest, and the nearest civilization was, apparently, very far away.

Well, at least I hadn’t been dumped in the middle of the ocean or Antarctica. Not that it would’ve really made things harder—just inconvenient.

Jinn had returned to the Spirit Realm, so my only physical company was Millia, tucked inside the inner chest pocket of my suit.

The surroundings were forest—more specifically, a humid temperate forest. I knew the exact term because Jinn knew and had explained it to me.

But knowing the forest type didn’t help much. It was a very common kind of forest across several continents, so I still had no idea where I was.

No cars, trucks, or motorcycles passed along the highway either, so I couldn’t ask for directions.

As I walked, I checked a few things. First, I went into the stream settings—specifically the option that hides the stream if there are viewers in the same world as me.

I had turned it on before entering the Amalgam World. It was more of a random precaution than anything else, and I hadn’t really given it much thought.

So I was a little surprised when I saw that I actually had viewers in this world.

“Three people…” I murmured to myself. “Well, I’m glad I turned concealment on.”

Ignoring the fact that seeing me enter their world only to immediately lose the stream signal would already be unsettling, imagine if, on top of that, those three people also got confirmation—within the first ten seconds of me stepping into this world—that Heaven was real.

It was a good thing concealment was on…

The stream didn’t give me their exact locations; I only knew they existed and had a rough sense of the direction their phones were in.

Once I figured out where the hell I was, I’d also have a general idea of where those viewers were.

All of them were more or less in the same direction. One probably got a phone first and then invited the other two. At least, that seemed likely…

I thought for a moment about disabling concealment, but decided against it. At least for now. After finishing the initial mission and getting things organized, I would.

Actually…

I pulled the stream camera in front of my face and turned off the concealment setting.

Then I brought my left index finger to my lips, made my right eye glow orange, and let out a soft “shhh.”

I turned the setting back on a second later.

I managed to hold it together for two or three seconds, my lips twitching, before I started laughing.

(“You’re disturbed.”) Ozma’s voice echoed in my head; his tone was clearly amused, despite the words.

From Jinn, I only heard laughter.

Was there a good chance those three people didn’t even see it? Yes—but screw it. Just imagining the possibility was already hilarious.

In the meantime, I also called Dylan back in Terraria. The phone rang twice before connecting.

When the call went through, I let out a relieved sigh.

I had a theory that the Stream wouldn’t allow anything in Terraria to contact me, since I couldn’t invite anyone from there into the Stream—but it seemed I was happily wrong.

After a brief exchange, the call ended, and I slipped the phone back into the Voidbag.

A satisfied hum escaped my throat. I vaguely looked up at the sky. The feeling was still there, even behind the clouds that had begun to darken.

I unconsciously smelled the air. It was early, but it was going to rain tonight.

I glanced at the minimap. The question mark representing the initial mission was a few kilometers away; there were just over thirty minutes left before it “expired.”

I didn’t pick up the pace. I took my time, enjoying the scenery. I had time.

[MagicalGirlSera-Tan]And you blame me for making him follow the [The Devil] Archetype?

[MagicalGirlSera-Tan]The very first thing he does upon entering the world is literally stare up at nothing, stand there for five minutes, and then casually say—with a look and a smile so insane they’d make Dionysus seem sane: “This world has a Heaven.”

[MagicalGirlSera-Tan]He even licked the air twice like a snake! Do you really expect me to believe [The Hero] was the better option?! Accept it—I’m right!(Emote of a magical girl laughing maniacally with joy)

I wisely ignored the messages that emerged from a crack in the ground and floated up to stop right in front of my face.

Serafall lies. My smile was gentle.

[Archetype: The Devil — Synchronization +66%]

And that stream message that appeared right after I stared into Heaven didn’t mean anything at all.

Curiously, [JustAnOrdinaryPeasant]—or Jeanne, in this case, since I was sure it was her, just not which Jeanne—was silent.

The only message she had sent after everything that happened was: “Devas isn’t evil, and he isn’t the Devil either. I trust him.”

Honestly… I didn’t quite know what to make of that.

(“If there’s a Heaven, then logically there should be a Hell as well.”) Jinn’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. She had stopped laughing, but she still sounded rather amused as she spoke. (“Can you feel it too?”)

I paused my walk, looked down, and tapped the Slick Cane against the ground twice in quick succession. I stared at the black asphalt for a moment.

“Yes, but it’s an even vaguer sensation. I feel a faint tremor beneath my feet, something extremely deep, and a weak scent of sulfur. That’s all,” I replied.

I couldn’t even sense the sins of whatever lay beneath that place. Nor could I see anything through the Transparent World. Hell felt far more distant and diffuse to me than Heaven did.

Why—or what that meant—I still wasn’t sure.

If the Shadowflame were “awake,” I felt like I could push that perception further, but unfortunately it was still “evolving.” It was taking longer than expected.

Still, I could tell the evolution would be complete within a day or two at most.

Funny… I’m pretending to be the Devil in a world where there’s a very real chance the actual Devil exists.

This is going to cause problems, isn’t it?

I lifted my head to look up at the sky.

But strangely enough, no matter how much I thought about it, why did this feel like a problem I wanted to happen?…

Shaking my head and scattering those thoughts, I resumed walking.

After a little over ten minutes, I got close enough to what was supposed to be my mission.

It was a mansion, somewhat isolated by the surrounding forest. Large, neatly arranged like a small gated community or private estate. White walls, single-slope roofs like ramps, and a well-kept garden.

A rich man’s house—something I could easily imagine seeing in a Hollywood movie.

According to the minimap, there was only one person inside the house. But my senses told me there were two living beings within: a small dog, which I assumed was a puppy, and a man.

Even without seeing him, information began flooding into my mind:

Male, adult, fifty-three years old, trained musculature, blood type O negative, multiple old muscle lacerations that never fully healed, several microfractures in the bones that never fully healed, liver showing early signs of cirrhosis, predisposition to multiple types of heart disease—

I grabbed the information mentally and compressed it back into blood. I raised my left hand to the side of my head and rubbed my temple.

The synergy between the Chalice and the Echo Humanitatis was terrifying…

At the same moment the house entered my field of view, a mission appeared before me:

-//-

[Baba Yaga (Part 1 of ???)]

Rarity: GreenWorld: Amalgam WorldTime limit: 19 minutes and 32 seconds remaining to accept.

Mission Description:John Wick, born Jardani Jovonovich, is an extremely tired man. After the death of his wife, the only thing he wishes for is silence and rest, alongside Daisy, a female Beagle who is also the last gift from the woman he loved so dearly.

However, fate has other plans.

Once an assassin, always an assassin.Once back in the game, the only way out is death.

Fools have yet to learn that when you play with the Baba Yaga, the only inevitable destination is defeat.

[..]

Objective: Prevent John Wick’s dog from dying and stop him from returning from retirement today.

Rewards: Black Card, Location of a mission [Pink]

[..]

~ “Si vis pacem, para bellum” ~

-//-

“Yeah… I figured this felt familiar,” I murmured to no one.

John Wick—I knew the name, of course. I’d seen the movies. Well, at least up to the third one. I’d been dragged into Terraria before the fourth came out.

(“You know the man?”) Jinn asked.

“Yes. An assassin… well, in this case, I think calling him just an assassin is still accurate,” I replied.

(“The boogeyman, then? That’s what Baba Yaga is—well, not literally, but close. Russian, right?”)

“Already learning the language?” I asked, starting to approach the house.

(“I focused on the major ones first. I learned the ones with Latin roots since they were easier to organize. I’ve moved on to Slavic languages now.”) She gave a small giggle. (“I’m taking it slow. I like learning them in my free time. It’s a nice pastime.”)

“…Wasn’t your free time spent reading history?”

(“That was last week.”) Her voice carried a hint of smugness.

(“I’ve already finished most of human history. Languages come next. Just because I’m connected to you and can speak every language like you can—thanks to the stream—doesn’t mean I won’t learn them myself.”)

In truth, I was almost certain I could speak any human language even without the stream, thanks to the combination of the Chalice and Echo Humanitatis—but I didn’t correct her.

(“I enjoy learning new things. In my leisure time, it’s for fun and pleasure; in my productive time, it’s magic, mystical symbols, and runes. Though… it’s not like I don’t enjoy learning those too.”) Another soft laugh.

You know, with how playful and silly she usually acted, I sometimes forgot that she was, in truth, a Spirit of Knowledge more than a thousand years old.

…This was the same damn situation as before with Alalia, wasn’t it?

I stopped walking. Pulled out a sheet of paper from the Voidbag and quickly wrote a few words on it before slipping it into my suit.

If I was going to be the Devil, then let’s do this properly…

I resumed walking, stopping only when I reached the front of the property.

The gate was open—or rather, there was no gate at all.

No cameras either, from what I could see or sense through the Voidbag.

Was that confidence, or did he simply stop caring after his wife’s death? Sure, only idiots would try something against this guy—but not even an alarm system?…

I passed through the entrance and walked slowly toward the front door. The path was white stone; to the side of the entrance was an open garage, with a Ford Mustang parked inside.

The car that started it all… A beautiful car.

Before ringing the doorbell, I finally answered Jinn’s question:

“To answer your question: no. John Wick is not the boogeyman.”

I rang the doorbell as I spoke. I instantly felt eyes lock onto me from behind the walls.

“He’s the man they send to kill the boogeyman.”

I may or may not have done that on purpose.

[…]

POV: Jardani “John Wick” Jovonovich

I turned my head toward the entrance the moment the doorbell rang.

I wasn’t expecting any visitors.

I lived far enough out that it wouldn’t be a door-to-door salesman or anything like that. Someone lost? Unlikely. Something related to “The Work,” then.

I was retired. But not to them.

I stood up from the dining table and grabbed a meat knife from the counter. It was cold; I was wearing a long-sleeved shirt. I slid the knife under my left sleeve—few people expect an initial strike that isn’t right-handed.

“Daisy, bed,” I said.

The puppy responded with a muffled, slobbery whine, food still in her mouth. Of course.

I stared at the front door for a moment.

I picked up the Beagle puppy with my right hand and placed her in the laundry room along with her food. I locked the door.

I steadied my breathing and walked slowly toward the entrance. No noise outside. No weapons, guns, no breathing, no footsteps.

I grabbed the doorknob with my right hand. I didn’t check the peephole. I turned it and opened the door.

On the other side stood a man.

A few centimeters taller than me. A deep black suit, from a brand I didn’t recognize. A cane in his right hand, made of something resembling bone or fossilized wood.

His left hand was wrapped in bandages—either injured or hiding a tattoo tied to whatever group he worked for. The inner lining of his suit sleeves was orange.

On his face, a soft, welcoming smile. Calm features. His left eye was covered by a simple eyepatch.

His right eye—

Death.

My body moved without my consent.

I opened my left hand, letting the meat knife hidden in my sleeve fall. I grabbed the handle and slashed toward the man’s throat.

He stepped back, dodging by a centimeter.

He struck forward with the cane, aiming for my head.

Death.

I kicked his shin with my right foot. I felt the bones in my foot shatter. I grunted in pain.

Something struck my throat.

Death.

I surged forward with my whole body, closing the distance before the cane could gain leverage. Right elbow first, aimed at the jaw. The cane intercepted midway, knocking my arm off-line.

Something rigid smashed into my collarbone.

Death.

I used the door as partial cover, pushing it forward with my shoulder. The man took a minimal sidestep. The cane slipped through the opening and struck my right hand. The knife fell.

Something hit my temple.

Death.

Feint right, strike left. The knife went straight for the armpit. He spun the cane behind his own body, smashing my forearm with enough force to bend the bone.

The blade didn’t reach.

Death.

I charged straight in, thrusting the knife directly at his chest. He took a short step into my space. His left hand—still wrapped in bandages—caught my wrist mid-strike. Enough pressure to lock the joint. The blade turned against me.

Hot pain below my ribs.

Death.

I tried to grab the cane with both hands. I managed it for less than a second. He released it without resistance and used his body weight to slam me into the hallway wall.

My head hit first.

Death.Death.Death.Death.Death.

Attempt after attempt—everything ended in death. Direct strikes, feints, attacks from every angle—neck, groin, armpit, head—every outcome ended in…

“Could you please stop trying to kill me for a second?”

I blinked, regaining my senses at the sound of his voice. My body tensed reflexively. I restrained myself from attacking.

The door was still open. Nothing had happened. I wasn’t dead. The man was still there.

Soft smile.

Death.

“Who—” My voice came out rough. I swallowed. “What are you…?”

The man let out a light sigh and switched the cane to his left hand. My body tightened, expecting an attack—but nothing happened.

Then he extended his right hand toward me.

“Pleasure to meet you. I’m Devas.” The same gentle smile. I focused on his lips. Right ey—

Death.

“As for what I am, I’m the same as you—” monster, assassin, devil—

“—Human.”

I didn’t believe that for even a second.

I stared at the outstretched hand for a moment. Hesitated, then clasped it with my right hand in a firm shake.

When we let go, his smile seemed to shrink just slightly before returning to normal.

He gently rested the cane on the ground and placed both hands on it.

“My apologies for interrupting your breakfast. But I’m afraid I’m lost—” I didn’t believe him. “—Could you tell me where I am? It’s been a while since I’ve been to this side of the world. How do I get to the nearest city?”

The man tilted his head slightly from left to right, creating a blind spot with the eyepatch.

I didn’t attack.

I’d seen this before. I’d tried this before.

It ended with my right eye pierced straight into my brain.

Death.

“We’re in Mill Neck, Nassau County, New York State,” I said slowly. “Residential area. No public transportation.”

I pointed toward the entrance with my right hand.

“The main road is a little over two kilometers north. Follow it for about fifteen minutes by car and you’ll reach Oyster Bay.”

“To the east, after the long curve, it’s just forest and scattered houses. Nothing useful. To the west, it’s a dead-end road.”

“If you’re on foot, it’ll take a while. If you’ve got a car, you won’t miss it. Just follow the asphalt.”

I felt my throat dry slightly. I hadn’t talked this much since before the funeral…

A low, thoughtful hum escaped the man’s throat after I finished. He stayed silent for a moment, then nodded.

“Perfect. I know where I am now. Thank you for the help.” He turned as if to leave, but stopped halfway. “Would you accept a piece of advice from me? A thank-you for giving me directions.”

… I hesitated, then slowly nodded.

The man slipped his free left hand inside his suit. I tensed even more—until he pulled out a sheet of paper and offered it to me.

I took it cautiously. Something was written on it. I didn’t need to ask.

“A small portion of the initial script of a story I watched some time ago. Read it if you want. It might be useful to you.” His smile turned strange. A cold shiver ran down my spine. “Well, that’s all. Once again, thank you for the help.”

He turned and started walking down the path toward the edge of the property, but stopped after a few meters.

He looked back over his shoulder. His right eye glowed orange.

Death.

“We’ll see each other later, Jardani Jovonovich.”

Then, right in front of my eyes—without me blinking—he vanished like a hallucination.

I stood there for several minutes, staring at the spot where the man had been. The air was cold. I looked up at the sky. The clouds were dark.

I went back inside without closing the door. I went to the laundry room and picked up Daisy. The little one had finished her food and was asleep. I sat down on the living room couch with her in my lap.

Then I started reading the words on the paper.

Just as the man had said: a script. Simple, no scene descriptions—just dialogue and names.

It described, bluntly, what would happen that day.

How I would go out with my Ford Mustang Boss, with Daisy. How I would stop at a gas station. How a punk named Iosef Tarasov would try to buy my car. How I would refuse.

I gripped the edges of the paper tightly.

How he would break into my house. How I would wake up being beaten. How they would kill my dog. How they would steal my car. How they would leave me bleeding on the floor.

They didn’t kill me… They should have.

“I left my card on the nightstand beside your bed, in case you wish to contact me.”

“Signed: D.”

I found the card exactly where he said it would be. Completely black, with an unsettling presence. A phone number engraved in blood-red, and nothing else.

I stared at the card for a few seconds. Slipped it into my pocket, put on a T-shirt and shoes, picked up Daisy, and headed to the garage.

“Signed: D…” My voice was drowned out by the engine roaring to life. “Devas. Devil… Let’s see what I’m dealing with.”

I drove to the gas station.

[…]

POV: Devas Asura

[Archetype: The Devil — Synchronization +16%]

Making things up, talking bullshit, and improvising—that’s my specialty!

Pretending to be the Devil was easy.

“And with that, we just wait for his call.” I watched the car drive away without moving.

(“And what if he doesn’t call?”) Ozma asked.

“He will. Trust me, he will.” I knew he would; after all, John Wick was human.

I snapped my fingers, pulling Proto-A out of the Voidbag. “But if he doesn’t and somehow surprises me, it doesn’t matter. I planted Nightmares in his shadow—and the dog’s—on top of that, the card itself is made of Nightmare Fuel. Either way, Iosef won’t accomplish anything, and John will stay retired until the sun rises tomorrow.”

Tyrian was in the dog’s shadow. I’d given him orders to make sure everything went smoothly. The mission would be completed, with or without the call.

It would be a shame if John didn’t call, sure—but it wouldn’t really be a loss.

Ozma didn’t reply. Still, I could feel his mental shrug before he went back to work. The old man was in the vegetable garden behind the beach house.

Well… one of the gardens. There were two now. One for Tyrian and one for Ozma. I’d say it was almost a rivalry, but only Tyrian cared about it, so that would be a lie.

Inside Proto-A, I closed the boarding hatch and started heading toward the command room.

Where the hell was the Continental again?…

After all, there was no better place to set up a fake identity and gather information about this world. Not to mention the missions I could pick up—stream missions, that is.

Assassination jobs weren’t really my thing, even if they paid well.

In Proto-A’s command room, I waited for Jinn to step out of my shadow so we could take off. Not because I couldn’t pilot it or because I was lazy and needed her to do it for me, but because she kind of loved flying this thing.

Problem was—she didn’t come out.

I turned my gaze inward, into the Spiritual Realm, to see where Jinn was.

She was on the beach. Naked—she’d been sunbathing just minutes ago—but instead of lying on her beach chair, she was crouched down, poking something washed up on the sand with her finger.

She must’ve felt my gaze, because she looked up.

(“Why is this here?”) She pointed at what she was poking: a white plastic chair.

Her voice came through outside the Mental Microphone.

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. (“It feels different… this isn’t a normal chair. What are you hiding…?”)

Hadn’t I dumped that fucking thing at the bottom of the ocean?! How the hell did it float back up?… At least the disguise I put on it was still intact…

I grabbed the chair with a thought and hurled it back into the sea, where the Nightmares dragged it down to the seabed again.

(“Ignore the chair,”) I said, outside the Mental Microphone.

Thank god the Spiritual Camera was always disabled whenever Jinn went for her naked swims.

Before she could reply, I grabbed the ocean itself and sent a wave crashing over her.

(“I’m taking off with Proto-A. Want to drive?”) I asked.

Distraction at its finest!

Jinn shot an annoyed, half-sulky glare up at the sky. She looked like a soaked cat—cute, to say nothing of sexy. I was being polite. Her eyes were still narrowed, but she let out a small huff and didn’t say anything.

She dried herself with a breeze, then jumped into her own shadow, emerging from mine in the real world. The birth of the Shadow Puppet had made crossing between sides much easier.

Jinn stepped out of my shadow already dressed: a simple light-yellow dress. Still, through the Voidbag, I could tell she wasn’t wearing panties or a bra.

She gave me one last narrowed look, then let out a soft giggle and walked over to the control panel.

“So where are we going?” she asked excitedly. “It’s my first time on Earth—I want to see lots of places!”

I grabbed the image I had of the Continental and sent it to her through our connection.

“First, we’re getting some identities.”

“Plural?”

“One for each of us.”

This was my home planet. If I was going to have a voice here, my friends would have identities too.

Jinn glanced over her shoulder at me.

“I’m blue. Ozma doesn’t even have a body, and Millia is a slime.”

“Minor details.”

She laughed softly and turned back to the controls.

I continued, “After that, we’ll stop by a bookstore to get books for your library.” This time, Jinn let out a little squeal of joy.

I tossed my phone to her; she caught it without even turning around. “Download as much content as you can find on the internet too. Books, movies, series, manuals—everything.”

I paused, organizing my thoughts.

“Let’s see if any missions show up on my minimap. We basically have the whole day free until the initial mission is completed. After that, we’ll see where the [Pink] mission spawns and head there.”

“Then we’re going to Japan,” I finished.

“Akihabara?” Jinn guessed.

“Yes—but not just for that.” I looked in the direction I knew Japan was, based on our current location.

“I’ve got a feeling the three viewers I have in this world are there,” I said.

Could they just be in that direction and actually be in a nearby country? Sure. But since I’d need to go to Japan anyway, there was no reason not to try my luck.

I shifted the Slick Cane to my left hand and slipped my right inside my suit, giving Millia’s “head” two light taps.

“We’re stopping at several places. Anything you want?”

As I spoke, I pulled the Full Moon Squeaky Toy, the Thief’s Dime, Lucy, and the Money Trough out of the Voidbag.

Millia jumped out of my pocket and climbed onto my shoulder as she said, “Can we buy some plushies from the cartoons I watched?”

“Of course. We’ll hit a mall later and you can pick whatever you want,” I replied.

With an “eype!”, she hopped off to go play with her friends.

The combination of a fox, a thieving coin, a talking axe, a flying pig that spat coins—which the thieving coin kept trying to steal—and a pink slime was ridiculously amusing to me.

I was in a good mood.

[...]---[...]

Speaking of John Wick, I didn’t “nerf” him by leaving his house unprotected. He was retired, careless, and out of shape—especially after his wife’s death. In fact, in the movie, a few random thugs managed to break into his house, beat him up, and kill his dog.

Only after that did he truly go back on high alert.

Even so, he’s still a monster. His first reaction when he looked into Devas’s right eye was basically, “Let’s see who dies first.” The character should return in the future.

Overall, this chapter serves as an introduction to the world. The next chapters will be more focused, and I’ll start moving the plot forward. I have a few things planned for this world. Devas will also take part in some Flash Missions.

I haven’t forgotten about SCP or LOTM, so don’t worry. They’ll show up too—though SCP is more of a long-term thing.

As always, good night and enjoy the reading!