Alan was stuck with Itsy tilting her head back and forth inches from his face. Her eyes were light brown, lips chapped to all hell, and a tiny amount of mucus clung onto a nose hair for dear life.

“You said you have a whole big alliance waiting to challenge Jaeger’s Pact. Unlikely Guds, right? Well looks to me like you’re the unlikely goods. Stupid merchant. Ack! I’m the stupid one, aren’t I? Marched right into your trap. Damn clever lads, y’all are.”

Alan considered all his options. If she sent a prompt to Bubbin somehow, his whole army might about face and charge Hightower, or worse, Strangey Town. He could tell her the truth about how Bubbin feels about her, but then he’d just come off as petty. Instead… best to just play it straight.

“I have big aspirations, Itsy. And you’re a part of them now,” Alan said.

She puckered her lips so close that Alan leaned back. Neesha took a step forward for her arm, but Alan shook his head slightly to tell her no.

“So you have not one?” Itsy frowns. “Not one realm besides Strangey?”

“Oh, we have another, Itsy.” Alan raised his eyebrows. “Mine.”

She scoffed and straightened. “Oh, no you don’t. You’re not pulling another fast one on ol’ Itsy. No way.”

“It’s true,” Neesha said, grabbing her arm.

Itsy swung out of her grasp. “Don’t touch me, stone crazy.” Then pointed a finger in Alan’s face. “What’s to stop me from sounding the alarm right here and now, eh? Bubbin will come flying in a jiff.”

Alan shrugged. “Go ahead.”

“Excuse me?” Her nostrils flared.

“You heard me, Itsy. I’m not playing your games. Everyone else, follow me. We have a kingdom to make.”

Itsy gasped and stomped over to block Alan again. “Tricked the Bubbin to clear you a path. Tricked me!”

“It was a promise of necessity. One I intend to keep.” Alan continued walking, swaying to the side whenever she’d come and block. “I could’ve slipped away as a shade with my friends, but instead I took a gamble that you’re reasonable… that you don’t want to see the universe burn under Jaeger.”

She laughed the next time Alan passed her.

“You are a wonder, Alan Right. With big, big balls.” Itsy grabbed Alan by the collar, then smiled. “I ain’t going to rat on ya.”

“Hm?”

“Nah. Think I don’t know what Bubbin was up to? That little prick has been trying to kick my ass to the curb for years now. Sister to Gosfor’s hand.”

“You just told us that, remember?” Alan said.

She thumbed her own chest, ignoring him. “Yep. Little ol’ me. He told you too, I heard it. Idiot doesn’t realize his Talvuld mouths every stupid little thing he says, even when the megaphone’s off. Grew into quite the good lip reader, ey?”

Alan rubbed his chin as citizens continued to walk past them with shoulders slouched. He had to keep up with Junos if he was going to get anywhere, but Itsy just piqued his interest. “What’s your play, then?” He finally held her eyes.

She scrunched her lips side-to-side. “Dunno. I Kinda like you blokes. Well, some of you, anyway.” She winked at Flint not for the first time. “Maybe, for now, I’ll just see where it goes. Guide you to a few war Titles maybe, so you don’t drown in the mud the next time you peek into Ojin, ey?”

“Fair enough,” Alan said. “This way I don’t have to drum up another set of shackles and a gag,” he joked, kind of.

“Cheeky,” she scoffed.

Neesha ran up to his other side. “So what’s the plan?”

“When Junos walked by, did you notice anything weird?” Alan asked.

“Everything about him is weird.” Neesha shrugged.

“Aha, I think I’ve got it!” Flint hopped up and down, robes flapping. “His helmet! The stuff of nightmares. Yes. Yes. Yes.”

“Mhm.” Alan agreed. “Another face plate on the back of his head. This god that we’re talking to sounds nothing like the one I convened with on our last visit. I’m thinking…”

“He has two personalities,” Flint finished. “Very interesting.”

“Said he was entertained last time. If that’s so, we want him entertained again before we talk to him,” Alan surmised.

“How the heck are you going to do that? The threat of war bores him,” Neesha said.

“I have an idea.”

On their way to follow Junos, a floating rock soared overhead and dipped down like a car screeching to one-eighty. Atop it was a familiar frizzy-hair braided woman that he hoped to see, and to boot, the void castle lord himself – Sinclair.

“Madam!” Alan moved to hug her. “Sinclair.” He broke away. “You two are friends now?”

Mardonnus dusted herself. “Who do you think helped rebuild his castle?”

“After you destroyed it, you mean.” Sinclair arced an eyebrow in jest.

“Pish posh. Anyway. Alan, don’t follow Junos,” she spoke low.

“I have to. He’s the key to starting an alliance.”

She gripped both of Alan’s arms. “You’d have a better chance convincing Jaeger to lay down his weapons.”

“You give up too easily, Madam. What if I had backed down against a mighty watcher like yourself?” Alan said.

Her eyes brightened for a fraction of a second, then dulled again to despair.

“You all lost reputation by trying to convince Junos to help, didn’t you?”

She nodded sadly. “It drains us all to live in a realm we’re no longer welcome.”

“Those of us who still have our reverence are afraid to lose it, to be frank.” Sinclair held the lapels of his robes tightly. He then gasped when noticing Lucius at Alan’s heels. “My prince.”

Alan sighed. “I’m sure Madam Mar has filled you in.”

“She did. But to see it true.” Sinclair winced.

“Which indeed, it is,” Alan assured. “Where’s Elkire and the Fate Chasers?”

“In Ojin, scouting,” Mar says.

“Well, can I leave him in your custody, to be given to them once they return?”

She waved her hands. “Heavens no. I will not harbor a traitor of that caliber in my tower. To be honest, I do not think even Elkire would accept him at a time like this.”

“But the Pegs?” Alan was shocked.

“Does he offer back what he stole?” Mar asked.

“Not quite.” Alan looked to the floor.

“As I thought. Look around you, Alan. The Fate Chasers are lucky to have gryphons to escape on. Our morale sinks by the minute. They cannot collect the Pegs without a home to work on them with. What’s worse, on a whim Junos could release the traitor and set him on the town for some ‘entertainment.’”

“Jeez.” Alan shook his head. “It happened so fast.”

“Junos is on a rampage,” Mardonnus sighed. “Armies march right outside our most common Ojin entrances. We are in peril, and our god will have no part. I’m afraid it will take our beloved towers under siege for him to act. And even then, I fear.”

Alan took a deep breath and resumed his march toward Junos. “C’mon.”

I goddamn hate gods.

So glad I pressed the ‘no thank you’ button when I was asked.

Watching all of the hunched over warriors and the distressed banners brought a cloud of gloom over Alan’s head. It shouldn’t be this way. Hightower Brack is great. Though he wanted Durger’s company, Alan kept him stowed away in his sword to spare him, especially considering he was never face-to-face with his mad god.

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He couldn’t help but recall a time when his dad took him to a traveling carnival in the desert, but the actors decided to go on strike just as the audience got there. It was the same feeling then with all the sad kids kicking rocks. But his dad did something great – seeing a box of old clown shoes and half-eaten make-up, he pretended he was going to the bathroom and did himself up. When he came out, kids’ eyes started to brighten. Alan’s eyes lit up too.

His dad danced and made an ass out of himself.

That’s what I have to do. I have to fucking dance for this childish god.

Yellow Saro lined his arms just from pulling the memory. He wondered why Blessed Yellow was always attached to his father… but now wasn’t the time.

Alan picked up the pace, jogging into the growing crowd along a wide-brick road. He stopped once pushing close enough to glimpse the giant fountain so big it could’ve been considered a lake.

“Who braves my jest for realm-wide entertainment? Who dares swim in the current of sharpskin to appease their god?”Junos extended his mighty fang sword pointed to the sky. Lightning zapped it before he dipped it into the lake.

Pulses of electricity buzzed all around like little fish hopping out of the water.

“Step right up. Ease my boredom. Come one, come all Brack citizens of valor.” Junos swung around, looking over his people.

“He really has lost his shit.” Alan grimaced as warriors cowered from making eye contact with the god. He reached into his pouch and took two coins between his fingers. One was Yogi – the gigantic armored bear – and the other Gardstrife – his blades-for-hands suit of armor. With a spur of the moment plan, he looked to his friends. “On my mark, start making a commotion and drawing people my way. Neesha, keep the prince out of the god’s eye.” He handed the chains over to her.

“Hurry Alan.” Flint yanked at his own beard when watching a bulky armored warrior readying to jump into the lake.

Alan tugged Madam Mar and rushed to an open area. “Quick, create an arena like you did during our tussle.”

“Of what kind, Alan?” she asked.

“Make it rubber, in hopes that Junos can’t zap us.”

“Very well. Not a common material in this land, but us Dreamcatchers can be resourceful. Huuuu!” She breathed in deeply, and with a flash of her eyes, rubber snakes crisscrossed into a flat black top of strange design.

Alan wasted no time in flipping his coins.

Ting!

Ting!

He tossed them in opposite directions so they wouldn’t clash upon summon. With two jolting flashes of light, his minions formed.

“Noble Alan.” Yogi bowed to one knee and pressed a paw to his chest.

“The most noble of Alans.” Guardstrife knelt and crossed both blades to one-up the bear.

“My friends.” Alan spread his arms and beckoned them closer. “Listen carefully. Junos, god of Hightower Brack, has lost his mind. In order to get it back, I have a theory that he needs to be thoroughly entertained first. That’s where you guys come in. I want you to fight each other.”

They both gasped.

Alan put his hands up to calm them down. “Not actually. More like, put on a show. But you have to be believable.”

The two giant minions side-eyed each other, and Alan turned quickly to see if he grabbed Junos’ attention just by summoning them.

Nope. The god literally cackled with his back to them – shoulders bobbing – as a warrior was flung in the air from being zapped so furiously.

“Okay.” Alan snapped back to them. “Do you think you can work it out? Pretend to be mad at each other, and I’ll announce the fight.”

“If that is what must be done.” Yogi rose to full height, pretending to put on an angry face.

Gardstrife also tried, but his masked face refused to move. Only his eyes blinked different colors, reminding Alan of Christmas lights.

It’ll have to do.

“Everyone follow my lead.” Alan cleared his throat. “Residents of Hightower! Come one, come all for the grand show!” He rushed over to unhook Madam Mar’s cape and fastened the sticks around his neck. Then he nabbed Flint’s hat to complete his showman persona. A ring of yellow Saro outlined his body.

Just like you did for me once, dad.

This one’s for the universe.

“The deadly Borai Yogi-Shontier will go head-to-head with the one and only indestructible Patrolgod, Gardstrife. An age old feud building for a hundred years roars to Brack to be settled, once and for all,” he shouted as his crew worked to start pulling citizens away from Junos.

It was a risky play, but he had try and spin the god’s personality back to reason.

“Yogi! Words for your opponent?” Alan yelled.

“Uh. Mm.” Yogi straightened, his brow going haywire before tensing. “You hunk of bad metal possessed by Jaeger!” He stomped down. “I will crush the soul out of your body!”

Alan tilted his head, then nodded. Not bad. “And you, Patrolgod of Hozzod?”

Citizens were starting to turn, their necks craning to watch the budding fight. It reminded Alan of amateur wrestling with godly minions.

“My blades will run red with Borai blood.” Gardstrife’s eyes solidified red. “You are a dishonorable unkempt beast of Ojin, who should have thought more cautiously before striking my protected.” He sharpened his blades and bent into ready stance.

“This is shaping up to be a riveting battle. And whoever proves victorious will fight Figro the Broken! Shield bearer of Hutten Fie!” Alan announced, staring at the coin with a shield etched into it.

The productive warrior in him told to test his Saro connections with the minions. Usually he’d just use his abundance to let them pummel to their hearts’ content. But maybe there was more strategy that could come from their bonded connections. Especially with the Hendra. She was a minion spawned of variant Saro. Surely he could find hidden powers within.

Armored citizens began breaking away from the lake in droves. Eyes brightened here and there, if not just for a moment of escapism from the doom of a disbelieving god.

“That’s right, everyone, hurry. Get your places.” Alan’s gestures were wide and presentational, like he remembered in the shows in Vegas used to be. “Gardstrife lost his protector to the Borai tribe. He seeks revenge!”

Every few seconds, he’d glance at Junos, who was still belly laughing at the poor warrior twitching over the lake.

Alan gritted his teeth and sent a patch of Blue Saro over Yogi. “Roar really loud,” he whispered. “Try to get Junos’ attention.”

Rrrrrrrrrruh!

Alan tightened his fist, sending a harder pulse of Blue to amplify the roar. It blared so hard the castles shook.

Finally, as if tapped on the shoulder, Junos looked both ways before spinning completely around.

“Mhm!” his voice echoed. “What have we here? Oh, I see. Very interesting. Some of the minions that toppled Sinclair’s castle. Yes! These were quite entertaining from what I recall. Step aside. Move. Yes.” He shoved citizens out of his way, even poking one in the butt with sharpskin.

The crowd was big enough to provoke the god. Dense bastard couldn’t resist missing out. Good.

Alan spun to face his minions. “Yogi-shontier. Gardstrife. Ready!”

They both faced each other.

“Begin!”

Flint held up his staff and plugged one ear. With a pop and massive snowflakes shooting everywhere, the duel had begun.

Alan focused on memories of his father, that carnival, evoking blessed Yellow before turning his thoughts to lonely storms as Afarus once coached him to. He draped Gardstrife with lightning, then reeled back the intensity.

Don’t get carried away, he told himself, glancing at Junos staking sharpskin into the ground. The moron began clapping like a seal.

“It is time to cleanse you of your head.” Gardstrife’s celestial voice made the rubber arena rumble. He bent low and zoomed into an electrical slice.

Yogi leapt out of the way at the last second, tumbling hard over the arena. The minions straightened and stared at one another for a long second – Yogi expressing shock at how close Gardstrife came to slicing him.

“Easy, Strife,” Alan whispered through Blue, then mentally altered to White – concentrating two frost gauntlets over Yogi’s paws.

The Borai slammed them once on the ground, creating a whirlwind of mist that he used to ride into an epic slash at Gardstrife’s body.

“Oooo!” the crowd bellowed as Gardstrife launched spinning into the air.

Alan wove healing Green into Strife’s armor, repairing it as the hunk of metal spun once over the floor. Strife flipped upright and sharpened both blades tauntingly. Things were getting a little heated in the spirit of competition, calling for more soothing Green to calm it down.

“Mhm! Yes, bravo! Mhm!” Junos bellowed, looking between the two minions.

It’s working.

Alan concentrated hard on Strife’s limitations. It was the Patrolgod’s turn to hit back, as half the crowd was holding up coins, telling Alan bets have been placed.

Alright… he can only attack in straight lines. Double-strikes have been common. But what about…

Alan threw another burst of frigid White to Gardstrife, manifesting a tornado from the ground up. He then filtered in some sandstorm Beige to give some power into the lift.

“Go, Strife!” Alan coached.

The Patrolgod bent to one knee, and used Alan’s Saro burst to launch high into the air, and in angular fashion, zoomed down.

Boom!

Yogi dove again where Gardstrife created a giant crater and a puff of smoke.

Now Yogi was mad, charging into a high jump with claws out. The fissures staggering midair left by Gardstrife’s strike exploded in electrical shocks, seizing Yogi in place like he just walked into a high-voltage fence.

“Yes. Wow! Great lightning.” Junos took two citizens closest to him and shook their shoulders.

Alan pushed through the growing crowd to get a better look at his minions, making sure he was still in view of the insufferable god. He noticed Yogi and Strife nod at each other.

Good. They remember the goal here.

Alan grabbed Itsy by the arm and tugged her close. “Can you make stone fly from the ground?”

“Sorry?” She scrunched her face.

“Like an explosion. Something flashy.”

“This fool is tryin’ to make me complicit in his scheme, eh?” Itsy pushed her lips to one side. “Alright big brass balls Alan. I’ll do it.”

Alan rolled his eyes. “Strife, let Yogi suplex you. Take the fall.”

“Take fall?” he whispered back. “Noble Alan, I do not understand.”

“Not to worry, stupid metal head. I do all the work.” Yogi roared while grabbing Strife by the legs and torso, lifted him overhead, and suplexed him into the rubber.

Itsy snapped her fingers, sending rocks exploding everywhere on cue.

“Wooa!” half the crowd roared.

Alan noticed the creek of Junos’ helmet as it started to rotate.

Yes. C’mon!

Alan gritted his teeth when it got stuck, and snapped back to the original idiotic face.

Guess it’s going to take more than that.

“And we have a winner!” Alan stomped onto the arena, returning Gardstrife back into a scratched up coin that he held high in the air. “Yogi-shontier! Borai of the Undone! Prized son of Balooma!” He flapped his cape purposely as Yogi roared in triumph at his back. “Settle your bets everyone. Settle your bets! Next up—”

Alan continued the show for quite some time, flipping out Figro the shield barer, and giving Yogi another win so he could face Hendra. In an epic finale, Alan arranged for Hendra to whack Yogi in the belly with her hammer, using molten Orange Saro to make a show of it. He coined the Borai immediately after he hit ground and sent a puff of fiery smoke high like the bear got incinerated.

“Winner!”

Junos’ helmet twisted a little further after every win. This time, Alan was sure it would fully spin. It was the last stop. The finale.

C’mon. C’mon!

Eeeer!

Three-quarters the way there. Almost ninety percent, when, snap! It jutted back to place, a mere inch from clicking the other way.

“Dammit!” Alan cursed.

“Bravo. Bravo! Mhm!” Junos manifested a mug out of thin air and smashed it on the floor. “Good show, Alan. Yes indeed. Next time however, I would prefer you do not schedule such lavish events in the midst of mine own.”

“Of course, Junos.” Alan bowed.

“Excellent. Now, how about we make it interesting. Your mighty Hendra, against one of mine. We play for keeps.”