Cholmas, Saana’s third moon.

A 'Space-ship' touched down, the heat of its ion thrusters scorching the orange rock constituting the moon’s surface. As its doors swung open, a pair of giant antlers popped out first, shaking with the rumble of their owner’s laughter.

Karnon turned to address his fellow astronauts. “Everyone, your next assignment on the cosmos is to have fun! Nourish your souls with the splendours of the universe!” Continuing to laugh, he jumped backwards, performing a slow-motion backflip and floating away.

A pink tornado and a God with a neckbeard followed from behind, both infected with the same perky, fearless curiosity of a Chinese tour group descending from a bus.

As Henry stepped out last behind these unusual characters, he was struck by the absolute silence of space. He could not even hear the sweat on his skin boiling away due to the lack of air pressure and the raw heat of the sun’s rays unfiltered by any atmosphere.

Inside the burning rays were hundreds of motes of yellowish-white Celestial Energy.

The Celestial Spirit rewards your deeds! 1% of the Energy necessary to build a connection has been accumulated.

The Celestial Spirit rewards your deeds! 2% of the Energy necessary to build a connection has been accumulated

Although it served no purpose with Karnon around, the full amount was absorbed within a single breath’s time.

Speaking of breaths, Henry wasn’t taking any, his blood instead being oxygenated by . For novices, the sensation of holding one’s breath indefinitely could be alarming, but he’d grown comfortable with it after countless underwater and volcanic battles.

Since he couldn’t exactly leave, he decided to join in with the others in letting loose. Exploiting the low gravity, he performed a few decuple front flips and biffed moonrocks hundreds of metres with his arm strength alone.

In terms of the amusement factor, he’d rate the experience 2.2 out of 5. The novelty of playing in space wore off quite quickly.

In Cholmas's sky, planet Saana had glowing crescents around the poles from the sun radiating on the opposite side. Although it was night on the side facing them, the planet’s features were partially lit up by the light cast by the world’s three moons.

The Parani Barrens, encompassing Suchi, was a featureless red smear. Henry's base island Chayoka across the sea was a cluster of green, the production cities his guild had built in the rainforests being invisible to the naked eye at this distance.

Contradicting the story given to the public, the storm generated by The Maalundi Maelstrom north of Karnon's homeland of Togavi wasn’t a solid weather structure smothering the area it covered. Instead, the outer perimeter was an indigo wind-wall about 250 kilometres thick, which didn't seem to affect the inner regions at all.

Whipping out a telescope, he inspected The Lynak Desert, where his old capital had been. The continent-spanning canal - dried up without a trace. What structures they’d built had either been destroyed or buried under the layers of desert sand.

"Figures."

In the Maalundi Sea north of his destroyed base, a series of enormous hundred-plus-kilometre bridges could be seen connecting the islands with the northern mainland. Called ‘The Titan’s Footsteps’, these wondrous bridges had been built around 2479 Before Present by the Maalundi people, who would later, in 1911 BP, be cut off from the rest of the world by the mysterious appearance of The Maelstrom. With it being winter in the north, the land was carpeted by snow, hiding any evidence of potential Maalundi survivors.

Henry glanced between Bes and Karnon, who were having a breaststroke race through the sky. Perhaps not so coincidentally, these two were the Gods most adversely impacted by The Maelstrom.

Togavi, being so close, had had its climate shift from a comfortable Mediterranean weather to a windier, colder, less-hospitable version of Scotland. This disruption caused about four-fifths of its population to die by starvation. The invasion that took place during the weakened state that followed would be the one in which Karnon’s sea serpent companion, Sarff, perished.

As for the Artist God Bes, his region had been an insignificant corner of the former Maalundi Empire that’d somehow escaped being consumed by The Maelstrom.

Henry his voice into a ball of wind and tossed it to the azure God.

“Is The Maelstrom powered by moonlight? Are you weakening it?”

Karnon stopped swimming and signed a negative reply, “No. Bes’s involvement is coincidental; we’d be here for weeks without his painting techniques. As for The Maelstrom, neither of us would dare tamper with it. They’re too powerful to offend.”

“They?”

“Forbidden knowledge.” Karnon tapped his chest and pretended to die.

All mentions of The Maelstrom’s origins had been purged from the history books. The truth could probably be found by hunting for obscure texts in remote crypts, but Henry didn’t care about the game’s lore enough to fund such a project. It was another mystery he was happy to let rot in his quest logs.

Karnon formed a ring with his fingers, placed it around his lips, and blew out a bubble that enclosed the four of them, the air inside smelling faintly of chocolate wedding cake.

“Gather up, my lovelies. I’ve received a question about today’s project whose answer you all deserve to hear.”

The three of them bounced over to the waiting God and seated themselves on a rock ledge.

“'Why was it, Lord Karnon, handsomest of the pantheon, that you sacrificed so much to assemble this motley crew of painter, princess, protégé, and perfect specimen? I understand it's about vandalism, but what about the backstory?' Superb question, my protégé. OK, so to establish the scene. Me and my long-departed serpent pal Sarff. Bottom of the Banyak Ocean. Hosting a cheese-tasting party with wines from across the globe. Two of us alone. Forgot to send out the invitations. My secret: didn’t send them out on purpose. More wine for me. So there we were, riffing back and forth on ideas for new projects when Sarff hissed something brilliant, “Maaaan, you know what would be funny? We should make one of the moons disappear. Then, come nightfall, everyone will be like, 'hey, hold up a quick minute, did I mix up the dates on my calendar? Weren’t there supposed to be three moons tonight? I only count two moons. Where did the other moon go?’”

Karnon paused for effect.

When the pause continued for longer than ten seconds, Princess Pateela blew a gust of confusion at Henry. “Is that it?”

“Yep. His motivations are usually that pointless.”

Bes tipped his fedora in agreement. “Indeed, m’lady. The ways of the trickster God are...unorthodox.”

“Dumb, he means they’re super dumb.”

As Henry’d mentioned earlier, there were critical differences in their goals and methods.

The Princess was about to swear before she remembered that she was still pretending to be deaf.

The three’s attention was drawn by howling laughter.

“Where...HAHAHAHA....where did...HAHAHA....where did the...HAHAHAHA...where...HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh my Gods, Sarff, you sharp-witted snake, what an inspired plan! The universe truly lost a once-in-a-millennia genius when you got eaten by that turtle!” Karnon flicked the Arcane Compressor over to the Artist God. “Get to work, Bes. Saana’s becoming a two moon planet!”

The Artist God hesitated momentarily as he thought of the practical implications of erasing one of the moons. However, what qualms he had were soon quelled by the thought of sunflower panties, the softness of their fabric, their sweet odo—artistic inspiration potential. Red in the face, he fingerpainted a cloud of ink beneath his feet, which carried him off at speed.

With the Arcane Compressor shooting out a torrent of black, Bes spread an even coating of Kamalite paint across the moon's rocky surface, the shimmering-parts of the paint clumping into larger circles to recreate the stars.

Karnon slid in between a stunned Princess and an indifferent Henry. “I know your concern, my protégé, but your heart may rest at ease. Bes and I developed an enchantment to make the Kamalitic pseudo-stars shift around in sync with the stars on the moon’s space-facing side, increasing the illusion’s fidelity. Saana’s inhabitants will struggle to spot the moon.”

Henry considered pointing out how that might not work because the moon would be viewed from multiple angles planetside but decided ultimately not to lest he increase the duration of their stay.

“Hasn’t today’s lesson been enlightening?” continued Karnon. “We’ve wrestled beasts, we’ve plucked pretty flowers, we’ve spoken to the wind, and we’ve painted the stars. Throughout this great adventure of ours, Nature has gifted us dozens of her priceless gems of knowledge. However, none has more been important than today’s core lesson, which was the real justification, not extracting free labour, for your abduction. Tell me, my protégé, has the epiphany struck you yet?”

“Does it matter? Just unlock the Celestial domain for me.”

“Don’t throw in the towel so soon! Your prize for a correct guess will be two whole—no, ONE whole decade of your territories being secure from disaster.”

The disaster that was Karnon.

Henry mimicked the azure God from their first meeting. “Don’t let anyone set limits on what you can achieve!”

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

The God scrunched his face in disgust. “Yuck, what a brain-dead conclusion! An Earthfriend should show temperance. Set realistic goals and heed the warnings of your peers, who might be privy to your blindspots. Unfortunately, no prize will be awarded except for today’s principal insight, which is...” Since his protégé’s guess had been correct, Karnon searched for inspiration until he spotted Bes painting, “...that an Earthfriend must be a kind of artist. In pursuit of our Paths, we must choose our tools carefully; we must strive endlessly with skill, boldness, creativity, enthusiasm, and grace.”

“Thanks for the wisdom, Professor K.”

“You’re VERY welcome!”

The azure God, raising his chin proudly like a teacher who’d taught a struggling inner-city class to appreciate romantic poetry by comparing it to rap music, patted his protégé’s shoulder.

You feel a spiritual connection to the sun, the stars, and the moons.

With the Celestial domain having opened its ear to you, you may call upon it to refine Nature into Celestial Energy.

Congratulations! You have unlocked the four domains of Nature, completing the Earthfriend tutorial.

Upon reaching level 20, to progress to a higher tier, you will need to visit an Oracle Coven to make Earthfriend your permanent choice of Martial Class. Should your choice change before then, the Oracles can guide you in how to switch.

A modest, barely noticeable smile formed on Henry’s lips. While the 'art project' of his ‘mentor’ was in the final stages of its production, for his own, the tools were only just finishing being assembled.

He envisioned the skulls of noobs compacted by his chameleon horn, their constipated expressions when their attacks were negated by a clutch shield, their bodies seizing up with electricity, and their chests being punctured by glistening spears of light.

While such pleasant scenes played in the theatre of his mind’s eye, he hopped down from the rock ledge and crafted the three Tier-0 Celestial spells.

'The arsonist behind the Centennial Blaze? A ray of light concentrated through a dewdrop.'

Light Spear

Skewer the target with a burning spear of light. Damage depends on number of Celestial charges spent.

Variable Cost (1 to 10 Celestial Charges). 1.66% Nature Energy Consumption per charge. 0.5-second casttime per charge. No cooldown. 60-metre range.

'The hunters had kidnapped the vixen from my earthen abode. As for her pups, whose furs were too small...burying them under the stars, I felt vengeance seething inside.'

Starburn

A fastmoving star that, upon attaching to a target, damages them for a small amount every 3 seconds for 15 seconds. Charge cost is refunded if spell hits a target. Additional applications do not stack but do refresh duration.

2 Celestial Charges. 3.33% Nature Energy Consumption. Instant cast. 5-second cooldown. 60-metre range. 120 metres per second projectile speed.

'"Each of the night’s sparkles”, she whispered repeatedly, “is a sun burning far beyond. Close your eyes, youngin’, and listen to their song.” Almost asleep, I was shocked when I overheard their deafening roar.'

Cosmic Power

Bless an ally, increasing both their and the Earthfriend's Magic Power by 15% of the Earthfriend's pre-buff Magic Power. An ally may receive from only one Earthriend at a time. Projectile speed increased by .

1 Celestial Charge (Continuous). Instant cast. 60-metre application range. 80-metre disconnect range.

Done.

Chayoka City, a secluded cafe located down a random alleyway in the city’s artist district.

A young Shaman was sitting at a streetside table with her hair tied up and hidden inside a baseball cap. Pulling down a surgical mask disguise every now and then, she took dainty sips of a Yamalai Yellow Spice Brew. Her eyes meanwhile, their irises inhabited by the multi-coloured Elemental droplets of her class, were scanning the lines of a book, the words illuminated by a combination of moonlight and a flickering streetlamp.

She was a bit perplexed by the novel's plot. In the present chapter, the nameless hero was challenging an Elvish Prince to a gruelling 11-game series of Dragon Chess, both of them having bet five Legendaries on the outcome.

After one round where all the Prince’s moves had been predicted, the hero mockingly revealed that he’d ventured into The Memory Plane to bring back the Memory Spirit of the Prince’s grandfather, the Prince’s Dragon Chess teacher, who was playing in his stead. In a twist, though, the next round was swept by the Prince, who, having anticipated the hero’s scheme, had himself brought back a Memory Spirit of an Elvish High King, his teacher's teacher. Another twist followed in which the hero revealed that he’d lied and, in fact, the Memory Spirit he’d brought back was of the Dragon Konosholotha, inventor of Dragon Chess.

While the Elvish Prince was tearing out his blonde locks in despair, the readers were clued into a final twist: the 11-game series was a ruse. The hero had trapped the Elvish Prince in a nightmare by combining the effects of six Legendaries gathered in previous chapters.

One, a Legendary necklace that allowed the wearer to bypass item requirement restrictions.

Two, a Legendary relic that nullified the Elvish Prince ’s own Legendary magic-immunity necklace.

Three, a Legendary ring that amplified the effect and duration of spell effects used to enhance a Spelltome for the Tier-7 Bloodmancer .

Four, Legendary eyeglasses with which one could peek inside a sleeper’s mind and alter their dreams.

Five, a Legendary glove that created a controllable clone, which the hero’d equipped with Legendary number six, a cloak with which one could infiltrate an enemy’s Spatial Bracelet as long as they could not be seen by the target.

Thus, the Elvish Prince's Legendaries were being stolen under his snoring nose.

With these new Legendaries, the nameless hero planned to confront the novel's final boss, a twenty-millennia-old zombie Godking who, unknown to the general player base, was preparing a ritual to extinguish all life on the planet to fuel his ascension to The Cosmic Plane.

The Shaman frowned. “Why are his plots always so convoluted and fake?"

As the sound of her voice rolled out into the Chayokan night, it caused the ear of someone at a nearby table to prick up in recognition.

This author's writing really baffled her. After her own stories became popular, he tried switching to her genre, hoping to mimic her success. The issue, though, was that his stories were crazy unrealistic. The power progression made zero sense, with the hero character duelling Gods and Cosmic Horrors and Abyssal Sleepers while everyone else in the world was five tiers behind. Most of the action was also ruined because the hero barely employed his Cutthroat skills, solving the majority of conflicts through either bribery or exploiting cheat game mechanics created by ridiculous combinations of obscure Legendary items.

The Shaman chose to share her feedback with the author himself.

Unblocking him from her friend's list, she found that his character was listed as offline.

-Silver Wolf: What are you doing?

She messaged anyway, knowing that he habitually played around these hours.

-Henry Flower: Spell target practice on the third moon.

The Shaman’s mouth tightened.

-Silver Wolf: Are you capable of giving a non-bullshit reply?

-Henry Flower: Not lying this time. A tornado’s tossing rocks for me to blast. I guess it's inefficient, but what else can you do when you're stuck on the moon?

The Shaman, a vein popping out on her forehead, was about to block him again when someone approached her in person.

“Excuse me, are you Silver Wolf?”

Looking up, Silver Wolf saw a Qi Master shuffling nervously before her table with her latest release clasped in his grip.

She donned her best smile, a little self-conscious that it might come across as forced.

Fame was taking some adjusting to.

The fan was confused by her lack of response.

Oh, right, the mask.

“Caught me red-handed! Would you like a signature?”

“Please, if it’s not an imposition.” The fan shoved the novel into her hand, knocking aside that preposterous Fanfiction of The Cripple written by her undeserving, wretched, vile, leech of an affiliate. “The third arc’s shock revelation caught me off guard. I was certain the baker’s daughter was the Wereleopard, given her unusual scar and preference for rabbit meat. My friend theorised that...”

Silver Wolf summoned a quill from her inventory and opened the book to its title page.

“Who should I address it to?”

“My username is...“ The fan caught himself at the last moment. Since her adventure stories had been pivotal in his decision to buy a VR unit, around character creation time, he’d...”My real name’s Humbert," answered Silver Waifu.

“Humbert...Humbert...eh? Don’t bother murdering my mum; cross-country driving makes me carsick.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.”

Few read the classics in 2050.

Using Scholar magic, she condensed a drop of golden ink at the tip of her quill and scribbled a heart-warming message.

Finishing with that, she doodled a cute picture of a wolf puppy.

Then a few puppy friends.

A field of flowers.

Silver Wolf really had nothing better to do. After her adventuring group split apart for the week, she’d sailed to Chayoka to hang out with her weird writing buddy. However, he’d actually left his bookstore for once.

Bored...she was so bored.

-Silver Wolf: Staying in Rangbit for long?

-Henry Flower: Already left.

-Silver Wolf: Where to?

-Henry Flower: Cholmas.

-Silver Wolf: Where’s Cholmas?

-Henry Flower: How can a professional adventurer have such trash lore knowledge? It’s the Togavian nickname for the third mo—

She blocked him again.

Annoying!

“Silver?” asked the fan, detecting her change in mood.

To vent her frustrations, she decided to give the first puppy a pair of menacing fangs dripping in blood. While drawing the second fang, though, she noticed that the light falling onto the page seemed to dim.

The normal response would have been to check the flickering streetlamp, but, by an inexplicable impulse, she gazed instead into the night sky.

A section of the third moon had vanished.

Suchi, The Headquarters of The Slum Empire, inside a command tent cloudy with a haze of tobacco smoke.

Ramiro’s commanders had been sent away and his message system disabled so he could concentrate. After cooling off, he’d regained his composure and begun a post-mortem of what’d gone awry to avoid being blindsided again.

In his hand, a Memory Sphere was playing a scene shot hours earlier at The Earthfriend Habitat.

“...I heard The Society’s pained calls,” said the azure-haired giant in the projection, “and I came here to answer them. To my surprise, however, I discovered that my blessing was unnecessary, for the Earthfriends of Suchi, unbeknownst to themselves, were already in the protective hands of a curious fellow...”

When Projection Karnon captured the fleeing figure in vines and spun them around, the footage paused on the captive’s face.

Ramiro brought the Memory Sphere close enough to his own face to almost touch his nose.

“Who are you?” Ramiro asked.

Of course, it didn't respond.

What mystified him most was the captive’s expression. Not fear, not astonishment, not awe at being apprehended by a God - it was irritation. Stranger still, the irritation was ill-fittingly mild, like that of someone realising they’d left their drying clothes out in the rain.

Who could look with such indifference at a God?

"Cough, cough."

At the entrance to the tent was a Cutthroat with prison tattoos.

Ramiro raised an eyebrow. “Any luck with Senior Director Okai Van?”

Duke Edwaldo shook his head.“No one recognises his abductors; let's assume he’s dead or compromised, divert resources away from The Company, and switch to overland smuggling. But that’s not why I’m here now. There’s an ongoing cosmological event that you should probably be aware of.”

“What is it?”

“A moon is...come out and see for yourself.”

Getting up from his seat, Ramiro followed the Cutthroat, exiting through the tent's flap.

Outside, all the guards were standing frozen, staring into the sky.

Helsinki, Finland. Saanatek’s central computer laboratory.

Crammed under an office desk was a pile of woollen blankets. When a researcher rushed over and shook the blanket-pile, the head of a pasty Finnish guy slowly protruded out like a tired tortoise from its shell.

“There might be a problem, Hannes,” said the researcher in an uncertain tone. “Karnon has erased the third moon. The forums are flooded with posts from Farmers asking if their crops will be ruined. A cult in Aion Laisije, interpreting it as a sign of the Dragons’ return, are plotting a mass-sacrifice. The Elves have—”

“What did he destroy the moon with?”

“Not destroyed. He painted over it.”

“The entire thing?”

“The side that's tidal-locked with the planet.”

Hannes blinked a few times, before sending a message to someone.

‘Buddy, is it a catastrophe?’

'Nope. My guild’s mobilising to handle any fallout. Contact Alex for details.'

Hannes gestured for the researcher to leave him be. “It should be fine."

With that, Saana’s genius lead developer retracted his head back into the blanket pile to continue his hibernation.