House by the Lake

Kristen had heard enough Idaho talk-back for one day, so she switched off the old radio on the kitchen bench. Be it local or nationwide, most American media were still preoccupied with how the world nearly came to an end two months earlier.

From a trouser pocket, she pulled out her iPhone and placed it next to the radio, away from where she was going to make bread. It wasn't long before she was listening to her Dean Martin collection from it and kneading dough at the same time. The combination of bread making, Dean Martin, and the view from the kitchen out onto the expanse of Lake Pend Oreille made it easier for her not to think about what occurred in Asia.

Not that the experience scarred her.

She felt fortunate to survive what they went through, a feeling somewhat soured by the over-the-top interest in their adventure, first by U.S. consular officials in Thailand and then by the FBI and CIA when they got stateside. Quintus, Tina, and Kristen had nothing to hide. They told the truth, and Kristen had video from her phone to show the officials some of what occurred in China.

There were still others who wanted to know what they went through. A team of Canadian researchers wanted to speak with Quintus about organ harvesting in the Chinese military hospital while an FBI agent in charge of dismantling Marx's financial empire sought to interview Kristen. She was due to speak via phone with that agent in the days to come.

For the past three weeks, she had been staying at the lakeside holiday house, recharging her batteries, figuring out what she would next do with her life, but that was pretty much looking like it would be a shared decision. As she kneaded the bread and looked out the window, she could see Quintus repairing the property's small jetty that jutted out into the lake.

For reduced rent, the elderly landlord agreed to let Quintus fix the jetty and do some small renovations to the house. 'You two young'uns can stay as long as you like,' the landlord said after seeing the quality of Quintus' work.

Their time together at the lake had so far further cemented what began not long after they arrived in Thailand from China via helicopter. Kristen had never felt so comfortable in anyone else's presence as she had with Quintus.

Yet she had never met anybody like him, in this life at least. This man and his ways amazed her. He was rugged yet kindhearted. He was incredibly capable yet humble to the extreme. He was unconventional yet traditional, especially when it came to romance. They both had separate bedrooms in the holiday home. 'If we got married, that would change,' he told her.

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'Well, hurry up and ask,' she replied good-naturedly. 'I'm not getting any younger.'

The Dilemma

Wearing only shorts, Quintus waded into the cool water and made his way to the side of the jetty walkway to fasten replacement planks of wood. Using a hammer, he began thumping in the nails. Whilst he worked, his thoughts returned to what he'd been mulling over the past few weeks, about if he should tell Kristen who he was and about their shared past life.

As he did back in the 1960s, he played out scenarios in his mind on how he could at least tell Kristen without freaking her out.

He again told himself it was impossible. The truth was too fantastical for her to consider.

Several days later, however, Quintus couldn't hold it back. He began to carefully tell her everything, something that would take decades to complete.

Closure

I hope my telling has done justice to this story and the people in it. There is only so much I can share, and I'm, of course, limited because of who I am. Nevertheless, even explaining what occurred in such a rudimentary manner wouldn't have been possible if I, your narrator, the one referred to as Ivan but mostly as War, hadn't walked among you as I did, albeit only for a month or two.

The demon kings chose me initially because of my role in creating armies, and they saw something in me that gave them the impression I was willing or at least worth taking a chance on. After centuries of me helping you tear each other apart, it was only natural that I became despondent about you all and my role in that. It was this whiff of hopelessness that drew the demon kings to me, thinking they could use it to have me become part of their nefarious plot.

Such creatures as the demon kings are unable to leave the netherworld, and they required others to fulfill their plans; hence why they needed me, the three others, low-level spirits, and the likes of Marx to do their dirty work.

It was their master, Satan, who allowed them to have their shot at destroying humanity, despite him having separate plans himself for the very same endeavor. The Great Deceiver initially didn't think the 13 could actually pull it off, but when Rome was demolished, he thought they might actually have a chance.

But you see, some all-knowing divine beings were one step ahead of the demon kings, and they approached me earlier, telling me of the demon kings' scheme. It was probably more out of respect for such divine beings than my love of humanity that I then agreed to their request to subvert the demons' goals.

Actually, it was touch and go there for a while. That's how the universe is, and the continuation of humanity often dangles on the edge of a knife. Because of the principle of free will, there was always the risk that I could have instead gone along with what the demons had envisaged.

Thankfully for you, through the likes of Quintus, Kristen, Tina, Kai, and others, I realized that there is hope for you. Indeed, after my time in your realm, I remain buoyed by such faith that there are those of you worth saving, worth the effort, worth risking everything for. You're more special than you could ever fathom.

> The END