In a hole on the edge of the lesser dimensions of what could be, there is a world covered mostly by water. On this world, there are three things that wise men will tell you. The first is that nothing is as it appears. The second is that some things are exactly as they appear, which can be a bit confusing really, because didn't we just talk about this? The third is that sometimes a thing that is, isn't, and sometimes a thing that isn't, is.

So perhaps these men aren't that wise at all. Or perhaps it is simply that others were a bit overzealous in their desire for elderly paternal figures and a bit too excited in picking exactly who they thought of as 'wise', and really should work some things out with a therapist about men with silver beards who smell faintly of books and scotch. Who can tell?

What we can tell, however, and know for a fact, is that this world has all but ended. It's people are scattered, and were once broken, and have long since forgotten to be upset about that fact as they eke out their lives in the ruins of what came before. The nomadic sky tribes are in eternal pursuit of the great flying Oola when they dip down from the atmosphere to feed, flying ships they have forgotten to build and can only maintain. The cultured… and admittedly, not so-cultured city dwellers float on their enormous floating skyscrapers of un-meltable metal and stitched-together plastic cubes that slowly spin in circles around the Hole of the Center of Everything, like crumbs in the sink, almost, but never quite getting sucked into the depths below. The merchants brave the haunted seas with sails instead of engines, the explorers dive the deep depths with spears and lanterns and gamble with merfolk, and really, everyone gets on about as well as they can, for as long as they can, before something comes along and well… eats them.

The world has ended, but it also hasn't, and it has been this way for as long as anyone can remember, so maybe those questionably wise old men are on to something after all.

—-

Enter Hu. That is his name, Hu, and not the common word, 'who'. He is named this not because his parents hated him, but because among the tribes of the sky nomads, they start all of their lives with a single syllable. These people believe that names are earned instead of given, and so to them earning the rest of their name might be the only thing they ever try to do. It is their purpose. Some might think as funny, or sad, but then they would think that your name lacks both meaning and rhythm is both funny and sad, so there.

Now sky nomads do a great many things right as it were. They are family-focused, which when you live with hundreds of members of your family on both sides, you have to be or go mad. They are inquisitive and inventive, which when you are trying to keep your millennia-old flying ship both in the air and out of the water, is very important. And finally, they love to eat. The problem is that all of their flying, family activities, and eating mainly stem from hunting the Oola. Oola are great beasts, the young ranging dozens of meters, and the eldest can reach two hundred or three hundred meters long, which nothing in the sky is willing to challenge since doing so is almost certain suicide. And as a result, the sky nomads are, to a man, woman, and child, absolutely bonkers. Unfortunately, they also are full of a special kind of gas that allows their ships to float and are thus absolutely essential to not all falling to a very wet end far below.

Tonight is an important night for Hu, because not only is tonight the night he earns the second syllable of his name, and this will become much less confused every time someone says, "Hey you" a bit too far back in their throats, it is also the first night that he partakes in the hunt. He has been preparing his entire life, and could not be more prepared. Tonight was going to go perfectly.

—-

"Well… That could have gone worse!"

The Shelueh, a small flying craft shaped roughly like a boat with a ring circling the middle that should have three sails extending from it, lay broken on the water, one end deeper than the other. Above the sun beat down with relentless heat, and not a cloud was in the sky. Hu rested his head against the side of the broken ship. Next to him, his older brother TehYa beamed with a large smile on his face. The man was a giant and larger than life, and if he didn't stop trying to find a silver lining out of the disaster of the night and day, Hu was going to jump into the water, terrible monsters and lack of knowledge on how to swim be damned.

"Tell me TehYa, how could that have gone any worse?" Hu with a single syllable to his name asked, his head repeatedly hitting the gunwale with a steady thump.

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TehYa put an enormous paw dotted with five sausage-like fingers to his chin, deep in thought as his other hand adjusted his scarf to once again sit above his head to block the heat. Finally, his face brightened.

"We could have been eaten, little brother! Ha!"

"I would have preferred to get eaten," Hu said, deadpan. "Did you hear what father said before we left? 'Son. Don't miss.'" He said in a deep voice in a parody of their hulking father.

TehYa smiled. "Ah, but you didn't miss! In fact, you landed your rope spear directly on the biggest bull anyone has ever seen! Surely, our ancestors are proud. And the way you refused to cut us loose even when any single other hunter would have, a truer expression of bravado and vigor I have ever seen! Truly little brother, you will earn a name to shame us all… Once you finally earn it, that is."

Hu ran his hands down his face, pulling at the skin, and groaned.

"TehYa?"

"Yes, little brother?"

"Stop trying to compliment me"

—

Far away but rapidly coming closer was the city of Lesser Elysium. This wasn't because that somewhere there was a Greater Elysium, but rather because while Elysium meant 'a perfect happiness', and 'Lesser' because all one had to do was poke their head out of their windows and see that actually as a matter of fact, it wasn't quite there, was it? It was really missing a certain je ne sais quoi. What, with all the absolute theocratic fascism in the metallic center tower of the floating city, and the abject poverty of the outlying districts assembled of bits of plastic tacked together vaguely in shapes of apartment blocks. However, Lesser Elysium was still one of the three great remaining floating cities in the entire world, and thus even if the people wanted to pick up their floating roots and go for bluer pastures, there really wasn't anywhere to go except for a short hop into deep water.

In this city in the heart of it's University was a young woman, and an elderly man. Not that this man was wise, no, no. No one would ever accuse Von Heimer of being wise, but he was definitely of the eccentric sort, with one eyebrow permanently in a state of regrowing after a catastrophic fire, and thick, dirty robes dragging around his feet. The girl, Vera, was vaguely in her young to mid 20's, a tight bun that suggested of no funny business, and a stern expression that promised it. In her hands lay a tilted flask of viscous yellow liquid, and below that was another vial with a pinch of blackened powder.

"Gently… Easy does it now… Yes… Yes…" Von Heimer said, sitting on the edge of his seat, pronounced nose resting on the edge of the table. While brilliant, Vera had been the one to run the calculations for this latest experiment, and so she controlled the mixing to avoid her mentor's enthusiastic nature when it came to science.

A single yellow drop fell, and on contact with the powder exploder with a sharp crack, shattering the glass. A plume erupted over the spent glassware, in the shape of a mushroom, or perhaps another kind of fungus that looked like it grew on piles of particularly-dirty soil.

"Aha! I knew it! Why, this will be good for… this will solve… something!" Von Heimer exclaimed triumphantly, beating at the dwindling remains of his remaining eyebrow.

Vera lifted her heavy goggles and lowered her mask, and slowly rotated her head to look at her guardian, mentor, and sometimes even advisor with a flat expression. "Something? Professor, I thought you told me that the technocians had already put in an order for this research. In fact, I distinctly recall the terms, filthy and wealthy."

Von Heimer beamed at her, grime covering his face from his refusal to wear even the most basic of safety gear. "Why yes my dear girl! We are in fact, filthy, and they are in fact, wealthy! But… not to worry! Two are coming now, to sign off on us never making this product again, so not only do we get paid, but we have to do nothing in the future as well. A win, I must say. What is the point of tenure if you have to work hard to maintain it?"

In fact, tenure was probably the only thing saving the elderly man from being tossed from the university proper, and Vera's dream of finishing her final thesis once again went up in smoke. After all, a graduate thesis required something to write about, and once again, they had spent months on something that would be forbidden to see the light of day. If she was an uncharitable person, which she kind of was, she would believe that Von Heimer was doing it on purpose. Five years. Five years! Five years of explosive compounds, flesh-melting bacterias, and diseases that first made you hiccup and then made you go boom. Every single last item that a pair of creepy technocians would appear, take all the research notes and leave a bag of money along with a warning to never do whatever it was that they had just done, again.

And right on time, the bell above the door chimed as two twins in matching black robes stepped inside the door in step, both twisting towards each other to fit in the doorway at once.

"Professor," they said in unison, like everything they did. Vera shivered and only stopped when they looked at her at the same time.

"Gentlemen! So good of you to stop by! Now, I'd love to talk business while my dear apprentice goes off to run some errands," Von Heimer beamed, looking at her with a knowing expression, and then to the counter with a bag of packages and medicines. With a sigh, Vera grabbed the bag and made her way to the door, the voice of the professor in his finest haggling-voice following her as she made her escape.

"Now, about our usual figure…"

She shut the door with a bang.