Morgan Rust stared out over the flowing dunes of sugar and wondered to himself if he was getting closer to find the Sugarfiends he had been hired to capture dead or alive.

The gunslinger continued to look out over the rolling landscape of endless desert of sugar his black leather coat and wide brim hat making him stand out in the stark landscape. But what made him stand out even more was the fact that he was wearing metal on his body. Metal was a rare commodity that had to be created using alchemy and to wear it as a belt buckle screamed out for all too see that this man was rich beyond belief.

This overt display of wealth was meant to turn Morgan into a walking target that the Sugarfiends in the area would be attracted to. For the Sugarfiends, in their sugar induced madness would come to rob him even if they had no real use for money. Yet despite this well proven tactic, Morgan had yet to encounter any of his targets. Which was why Morgan had made himself a promise, he would try one more day then head back and resupply as well as check to see if word had spread that others had taken this group down or they had moved on to another location.

Marching through the rolling white dunes made from sugar, Morgan pondered on the nature of Sugarfiends. They were humans that had spent far too long in the dunes of sugar and had absorbed the sugar into their bodies to the point their skin became encrusted in the stuff. And once the encroachment of sugar on skin began, it was only a matter of time until the mind of the human twisted into that of a feral beast. The only aspects that were left from the human they had once been were their base desires, food, money, and of course pleasure. Although, the last desire was one that was hard to find out here beyond the edge of human civilisation.

Pausing in his pondering, Morgan smiled as he heard a rustle in the sugar about him, a rustle that didn’t come from the wind or even Gummi-Beasts. Instead he turned around to find five humanoid shapes rising out of the sugar that lay all around them.

Looking at the five individuals, Morgan could see that they were his targets, the ones that he had been sent out to retrieve.

All five of the humanoid shapes were men and all of them were only adorned with scraps of clothing. They were barely wearing shorts or what had once been pants. But what really stood out about them was that their skin had been entirely crusted over with sugar turning them completely white and hairless. Yet the distinctive markings, that had been on their wanted posters, remained. One was lacking an eye from an earlier raid on a settlement. Another had a scar across his chest. And finally another still had vivid striking blue eyes and a blue tongue showing that he had once tasted the rivers of blue lemonade.

“So what now?” asked Morgan of the five men before him, his deep voice breaking through the silence and stillness of the world around them.

“Give…Us…All…” snarled out the blue eyed man, his voice raspy, dry and tortured. “Or…We…Take…Life…”

Seeing that the blue eyed man was the only one that was still sane and human enough to speak, Morgan took a moment to judge what kind of weapons they had on their persons.

All of them were armed with hard candy, a red solid substance that grew out of the world in a variety of different places. A substance you could both eat and use to make houses out of.

Finishing his survey of the Sugarfiends, Morgan was relieved to see that none of the Sugarfiends had any liquorice on them. For that dreaded substance was known to transmute all flesh and blood beings that touched it into liquorice as well. And while most would give the dreaded substance a wide berth, Sugarfiends were so far gone they often didn’t even realise they were turning into liquorice and even then it was a fifty-fifty chance.

“Answer…” snarled out the blue eyed man.

“Here,” said Morgan as he reached into his black leather coat and pulled out a hand sized object.

Eagerly shifting about the blue eyed man walked closer and as soon as he was within about 3 meters, Morgan threw the object at the man, except he didn’t aim at his head. Throwing the yellow mass of a lemon juice sac at the blue eyed man’s leg, the sac collided with his leg and exploded. And once the blue eyed man’s right knee was covered in citric acid, the acid went to work dissolving his leg into human soup.

Screaming as he fell over, his right foot no longer connected to his body, the blue eyed man tried to warn his fellow Sugarfiends, but they were instead too busy looking at their new source of food.

“Lemon…Bomb…Kill…Him…,” snarled out the man as he was no longer able to feel pain.

Refusing to let this moment of confusion pass him by, Morgan pulled his gun from its holster and fired four times. Each shot a perfect hit to the side of the head of the confused Sugarfiends, an instant death blow.

Seeing his comrades die instantly, the now one legged man snarled and cursed in his twisted and broken speech before Morgan walked over to stand above the man and point his gun at the man’s heart.

“I’m sorry it came to this,” said Morgan true sorrow in his voice. “Had I been able to find you earlier I would have been able to save your sanity at the very least.”

Getting only a snarl of hatred in return, Morgan pulled the trigger and watched as the man, who had once been a harmless merchant until he had gotten lost in the sugar dunes, died. His heart pierced by a bullet made from red hard candy.

Sighing in relief that this grisly work was done with, Morgan looked at the edge of the sky and saw the Great Apple rise up into the sky, its red-green skin gleaming in the fading light of the sun. Knowing that night was falling fast and that carried the risk of Fruitfalls, Morgan set to work to collect the evidence he would need and then he hurried out of the area.

For Morgan had no desire to spend the rest of the night looking to the sky to see if he needed to dodge any giant fruit falling from space.

~~~

Walking into the town of Greenville, Morgan lugged over his back a sack that carried within it the heads of the Sugarfiends. And as he walked along his black leather clothing and the fact he wore metal managed to attract the attention of everyone he passed on the street.

Normally the presence of a stranger was enough to attract attention, but here on the border of civilisation it also garnered fear. Especially if the man was walking out of the sugar dunes, as the chance that he was a Sugarfiend was quite high. Add to this the fact he was clearly armed with weapons and carried himself as a bounty hunter, it made the populace of the town of Greenville so wary they had already called for their sheriff and the civilians had armed themselves as best they could.

Stopping in the middle of the street, Morgan dropped the sack of heads to the ground with a wet thud as they impacted with the brown powdered ground. Morgan had been to enough places that when you received a reception like this, you waited for them and you didn’t try to force your way in.

“Stop stranger,” commanded a voice from the back of the crowd, a voice that was old and yet still rung with authority.

Lifting his hands up so that they were clearly empty, Morgan waited for the owner of the voice to come to him instead of trying to reply and causing misunderstandings.

Breeching through the crowd, the Sheriff in his white hat and Silver Star badge appeared in front of Morgan, his white hair and beard neatly cropped to frame a face that was dead serious.

“I can’t let you into this town until I know who you are and why you’re here,” said the Sheriff, his voice ringing with an authority that refused to let anyone challenge him or the safety of his town.

“That’s fine with me,” said Morgan as he nodded his head in respect before introducing himself. “My name is Morgan Rust. I’m a bounty hunter by trade, as well as an informal explorer. These heads here belong to Sugarfiends that attacked the next town over. I am stopping here to resupply and to pass word that the threat has been ended.”

“Step away from the sack and I will check your story,” said the Sheriff as he looked at the sack at Morgan’s feet in suspicion.

Stepping back over the sack, Morgan backed up by a few metres and waited for the Sheriff to come over and check out the heads contained within it. And as the Sheriff carefully checked the heads in the sack, Morgan allowed his attention to wander.

Looking over the town of Greenville, Morgan’s attention was suddenly transfixed by the fact that he saw a potted plant in the windowsill of a house. Normally plants and any form of vegetation was something that only the rich could own, and usually never here on the edge of civilisation. And while a single potted plant might have been able to exist in this isolated town, what caused Morgan to really pause was the fact it wasn’t a single potted plant on the windowsill but multiple ones.

Quickly but discretely Morgan looked from house to house searching for any spec of green that he could find, and sure enough he found them. Dotted all about the town were faint indicators that the town was teeming with plants, vegetation and even grass. The last of which caused Morgan’s eyes to widen in surprise, for no one ever dared to waste soil on grass especially when it was so rare and could be used to grow trees and vegetables.

“These are the men from the wanted posters,” said the Sheriff at last clearly satisfied that Morgan had brought in the Sugarfiends that had been described to him. “And while you have done us a kind service, I would like to see some sort of identification to know that you are in truth the fabled Morgan Rust.”

Nodding in acceptance and finally understanding why the townsfolk were so on edge, Morgan made a silent gesture to indicate he wanted to get something out of his pocket. Receiving a nod in confirmation, Morgan reached in and brought out a gold medallion, embossed with two crossed guns on one side and a face on the other side. This face matched Morgan’s face and each of these gold medallions marked out their owners as members of the Seeker’s Guild, a fabled guild that scoured the world in search of the legendary Chocolate Milk.

“So you are the real thing,” said the Sheriff with obvious relief before straitening up. “The only other question I have is this, once you’ve got your reward money will you be off in search of Chocolate Milk or will you be staying with us a while?”

“The families of the fallen can keep their money or give it to those unable to pay for repairs themselves,” said Morgan with a careless shrug , “and yes once I have restocked my supplies I will be heading east in search of Chocolate Milk.”

“We don’t have much in the way of resources to spare,” said the Sheriff cautiously as he didn’t want the town bled dry by Morgan.

“You have a Greensmith,” said Morgan with a certainty that made the crowd draw back in shock. “That alone will help immensely.”

“How do you know that?” asked the Sheriff protectively.

“You have far too many pot plants in your windows,” said Morgan with a wave of his right hand. “You best make sure to hide that in the future or bandits and worse will come sniffing around.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said the Sheriff bitterly as he looked about and realised that the plants were truly on full display.

“So am I able to go to the Greensmith or do you need to interrogate me some more?” asked Morgan, not really bothered either way.

“You can be on your way. But any funny business and I will make sure you pay,” said the Sheriff as he tried to be ominous.

“I understand,” said Morgan, not really fazed by the Sheriff’s words, an apathy that made everyone present shudder as they realised that implied death threats were white noise to this man.

“Now then which way to the Greensmith?”

~~~

Entering the Greensmith’s laboratory, Morgan was surprised by both how big it was and by what was in it.

The room was a vast circular room easily 10 metres in diameter, and it was filled with wooden walls and book cases, stone benches atop of which were glass tubes. There were even golden glowing hearths filled with sand that was dissolving into glowing floating motes of light. But what truly shocked Morgan was that rising in the centre of the room was an oak tree, its leaves in full bloom causing Morgan’s senses to be assaulted with green and gold colours.

It was such a majestic and rare scene that Morgan stopped for a long moment as he took in the beauty before him.

“It’s magnificent isn’t it?” asked a young voice to Morgan’s side.

“Yes,” said Morgan unbothered that the man next to him had tried to sneak up on him, instead Morgan chose to remain transfixed by the gold and green before him. A beauty that he knew might be years or decades before he saw again.

Not wishing to disturb Morgan in his moment of wonder, the man remained silent for a few minutes before coughing slightly to get Morgan’s attention.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, but how can I help you today?” asked the man, his leather apron and white coat marking him out as a Greensmith, and possibly the owner of this laboratory.

“I’m here to restock on supplies if you have them and to sell you something if you’re interested,” said Morgan as he looked towards the young man of no more than 23 years of age.

“Like most things that depends on what you are offering” said the man with a bright smile that truly seemed to radiate from his soul. “So what does the great Morgan Rust want to sell?”

Pausing as he heard his name, Morgan gave the man a long look from under the brim of his hat.

“How do you know me?” asked Morgan wary that he might have run into the offspring of one he had hunted down before.

“You saved my life once,” said the man, his smile firmly fixed in place, “don’t worry if you don’t recognise me. I was a child when you did it.”

Blinking as he absorbed this piece of information, Morgan looked over the Greensmith before him. He took in the man’s green eyes, his brown hair, his pale near white skin, his average height, and finally a small acid scar that was on the back of the man’s right hand. A set of scars that made it clear the Greensmith had been scarred by the splashing droplets of the acid of the Fruitfall.

“Jeremy Greensmith wasn’t it?” asked Morgan after a moment of introspection, as the scars on the back of the man’s hand had knocked loose a memory.

“Yes,” said Jeremy slowly as he turned back to look at Morgan, a look of shock upon his face. “I didn’t think that you would remember me.”

“I don’t remember everyone that I save,” admitted Morgan as he met Jeremy’s gaze, “but some things are next to impossible to forget.”

Pausing, the two men took a moment to remember that days so many years ago when their paths had first crossed.

Morgan remembered the caravan that he had been hired to guard while they were travelling out to the frontier. He remembered that the caravan that had stopped for the night and while in the midst of celebration of how far they had travelled without problems they had failed to watch the sky.

So when the Fruitfall had come no one that been able to raise the alarm until the fruit had fallen upon the land and the caravan. Giant tomatoes each the size of houses had fallen and when they hit the wafer ground they had exploded into tomato soup, this in turn created waves of tomato acid that engulfed half the caravan. And as it had decimated the caravan, Morgan had raced through the deluge to try and save anyone he could, and while he had managed to get some clear of the acidic tomato soup, some had fallen in and were beyond saving.

Morgan remembered the little boy, no more than five years of age, who had desperately been trying to save his mother who was in the process of sinking into the tomato soup. He remembered having to pick the boy up and carry him to safety, while the boy’s mother had sunk into the red gloop-y acid. He remembered treating the boy’s hand for acid burns and he remembered the boy had clung to him throughout the rest of the night, crying and hoping that everything that had just happened was just a dream.

And come the morning, Morgan remembered finding Jeremy’s father and saying goodbye to the remains of the caravan once they had gotten to their destination.

“You look the same as you did on that night 20 years ago,” said Jeremy as he walked over to a desk that was tucked into an out of the way section of the circular room.

“And you went on to become a Greensmith like your father,” replied Morgan, not really wishing to have a conversation about his longevity.

“Yes, my father wanted to make sure that I didn’t succumb to hate, rage or sorrow. He made sure that I understood what a Fruitfall was and how it was not a thing of malice or intent. It was simply a phenomenon. He didn’t want me to love it or hate it simply to understand, because once you understand something the emotions you have for that something are so much easier to deal with,” explained Jeremy as he sat down and looked at Morgan waiting to see the Seeker’s response.

“He sounds like a smart man,” said Morgan thoughtfully and with a hint of admiration for being wise enough to prevent hatred from consuming his son.

“Yes he is,” said Jeremy with a fond smile, one that showed how much love he had for his father.

“Still even if you understood what a Fruitfall was and never came to hate it, you would not always end up in this profession,” said Morgan as he walked forward to stand near the desk where Jeremy sat.

“True. However the more I understood about Fruitfalls and even the Giant Apple that floats across the sky, the more I realised that more good could come out of being a Greensmith than bad,” said Jeremy trying to convey what he felt and why he had decided to become a Greensmith.

Feeling the conversation lull for a moment, Morgan couldn’t help but feel a sense of admiration for the man before him. And while Morgan wanted to continue talking to Jeremy for a while he had other things that needed to be addressed.

“I’ll be needing some more water, some fizz rocks for my guns and various green edibles to prevent scurvies,” said Morgan as he shifted back to the reason why he was here in this Jeremy’s laboratory.

“I can accommodate you with all of that, however I have to ask. How will you be paying for all of this?” asked Jeremy as he too shifted his mindset so that the two of them could talk business.

Instead of answering, Morgan reached into his coat and pulled out a small bag that had its draw strings pulled together and tied up tight. Placing the bag on the table, Morgan stepped back and waited silently so that Jeremy could examine the contents in peace.

Raising an eyebrow at the melodrama of Morgan’s antics, Jeremy slowly opened the bag and looked inside. And once he saw the contents of the bag the shock on his face almost made Morgan laugh. For inside the bag were the seeds of numerous different vegetables and fruits that Morgan had managed to harvest on his journeys, the freshest of which were lemon seeds which rested at the top of the bag.

“You’ve been busy,” said Jeremy as he tried to adjust to the fact that Morgan had just handed him a small fortune in seeds. “Or do you chase danger?”

“I simply seek out interesting things while looking for Chocolate Milk,” explained Morgan with a careless shrug.

Still in awe at the amount of seeds that Morgan had brought in, Jeremy frowned for a moment before looking over at Morgan.

“You know I never understood the mad quest for Chocolate Milk,” admitted Jeremy as he started to poke around the bag to see what other kinds of fruit and vegetables Morgan had given him.

“Really? You know all about Fruitfalls and turning candy into soil, metal and gemstones but you don’t know about Chocolate Milk?” asked Morgan more surprised than annoyed by Jeremy’s question.

“I care about what my green-smithing can transmute, not mythical substances,” replied Jeremy as he focused in on Morgan.

“You know that Chocolate is a panacea correct?” asked Morgan as he moved to sit down on a spare seat that was near Jeremy’s desk.

“Yes, I heard that story, although I’ve never seen it,” said Jeremy, his scepticism filling his voice and covering his face.

“Well I have. I’ve seen a woman eat chocolate and regrow a missing hand. I’ve seen a blind old man eat chocolate and regain his sight. I’ve seen so many more examples,” said Morgan with such an authority on the matter that Jeremy didn’t dare rebuke him.

“Milk on the other hand is known to lengthen a life. Those that drink it regularly have never aged a day, some even living for hundreds if not thousands of years,” continued Morgan as he explained the second half of why people wanted chocolate milk.

“So people believe that if you drink Chocolate Milk you will be able to cure everything even death?” asked Jeremy as he started to see why people would be so willing to get lost in sugar dunes and ice-cream mountains to find the mythical substance.

“Not just that, people believe that once you have consumed it you will never have to consume it again. Just one drink of Chocolate Milk and you will be immortal,” said Morgan with a belief and a zeal that made Jeremy pull back a bit.

“Then why not try and mix chocolate and milk together?” asked Jeremy seeing the obvious answer to the problem, all the while knowing that something was bound to prevent it from being that easy.

“People have tried, time and time again, but for one reason or another it doesn’t work. In order to truly gain the powers of Chocolate Milk we need to find it out there in the vastness of the world otherwise it doesn’t count or can give heinous side effects,” explained Morgan as he leaned back in his chair, the thrill and excitement he felt at challenging the unknown sprawled across his face.

“So that’s why you travel the world looking for this impossible substance,” said Jeremy, all the while musing on the idea of spending your life chasing after something that might never exist.

“And because of that search, because of that desire to challenge the endless horizons, to find the impossible, I have travelled and seen so many wondrous and strange things. I have been to the Mountains of Ice Cream in the far north. I have stood on the edge of the Lemonade Ocean in the distant west. I have fought my way through the Jelly Jungles and Custard Lakes of the Deep South. And it is now why I am here at the edge of the Sugar Deserts of the East,” explained Morgan, a huge smile across his face with the faint traces of a beard making him look older, yet his eyes gleamed with the zeal of youth.

“What you’ve never looked into the Organic Cradle, the birth place of all organic creatures. I mean how ironic would it be if there was Chocolate Milk hidden beneath the birth place of humanity,” said Jeremy in jest, all the while making it clear that he didn’t think that there was any Chocolate Milk near the one location. Especially since that was the one place where trees naturally grew and animals of flesh and blood lived and died. For the Organic Cradle was not just the place where living beings came from. It was also the location of the heart of human civilisation and at the centre of the four locations that Morgan had commented on.

“I have searched through the caves beneath the Organic Cradle,” said Morgan with a seriousness to him that made Jeremy pause as he could see that the man before him truly believed in the existence of Chocolate Milk. “And while I found things that would make you question all that you know about reality, I did not find any Chocolate Milk in my old hometown.”

“You are from the Organic Cradle?” asked Jeremy suddenly much more interested in the man before him, as the Organic Cradle was the holy place for all Greensmiths in the world, for it was the place where they could see what they were trying to make the world into.

“I was born there many centuries ago,” said Morgan with a smile as this one little fact caught Jeremy off guard. “Don’t look so surprised. At my age, you should know, I always drink my milk.”

Unsure about how to respond to Morgan’s claims and the idea that Morgan was actually so much older than even Jeremy had assumed, the Greensmith opened his mouth to respond when he heard the sound of running footsteps.

Hearing the same sound, Morgan pounced to his feet, his right hand hovering over his gun as he looked at the front door to the Greensmith’s laboratory.

Banging on the door and then opening it, Morgan saw one of the townsfolk from earlier race into the room, a little out of breath.

“Jeremy we’ve got trouble,” said the man with a quiver of fear in his voice as he glanced back at the door as if afraid of what could be following him.

“What trouble?” asked Morgan sternly, his voice demanding an answer and filled with such authority that the man answered without realising that he was talking to the outsider from earlier.

“A posse of outlaws just rode into town,” said the man, his voice quivering with fear as he nervously looked out the door as if expecting the outlaws to come waltzing into the room.

“And!” demanded Morgan as he wanted more details.

“And what?” asked the man as he suddenly realised that he was talking to the outsider who had just come into town and not the Greensmith.

“And what did they do? Did they start ransacking the place? Are they shooting women and children in the town square? Are they robbing the local bank?” asked Morgan as he tried to get the townsman to finally give him details about who and what had just rolled into town and how much of a threat they were.

“Oh no, they’re just standing around in the town centre,” said the man as he patted at his sweaty head with a cloth.

“Then why are you so afraid?” asked Jeremy just as befuddled at the man’s antics as Morgan was exasperated by them.

“I recognised one of them from a poster,” said the man frantically as he focused in on Jeremy as he started to hyperventilate once again. “His name is Seth Riot! He’s infamous across the world!”

Drawing his hand away from the gun on his hip, Morgan sighed before giving Jeremy a look that asked a simple question ‘How do you stand these idiots?’

Shaking his head ruefully, Jeremy escorted the man out of his laboratory while trying to calm him down. And once the man was calm and on his way both Morgan and Jeremy walked over to the town square to look at the new group of people that had rolled into town.

~~~

“I take it you know of these people,” said Jeremy as the two stood at the edge of the town square looking at the twenty or so people standing about while the one clearly in charge was speaking with the sheriff in a loud yet inaudible voice.

“I do. His name is Seth Riot and he was once like me, part of the Seeker Guild, however he was kicked out for making far too many mistakes. And more importantly for seemingly causing trouble wherever he went,” explained Morgan as he looked on with obvious distaste at what he was seeing.

“Are you going to arrest him or shoot him?” asked Jeremy as he glanced at Morgan wondering what the man would do next.

“And what would I shoot him for? For being an imbecile? If we went around killing all the idiots we encountered or shoot all those we dislike we could pile the bodies so high we could take a bite out of the Great Apple itself,” said Morgan with amusement at the notion of climbing up a tower of bodies to eat the giant apple that floated in the sky.

“Then why is his face on posters?” asked Jeremy with what he felt was valid concern.

“Because he made a mistake long ago and now his body is turning into living fudge, and he is desperate to find Chocolate Milk in order to save his life. And that kind of desperation leads a man to tear down entire towns to make sure they aren’t hiding anything from him. Yet despite this no one has ever been able to confirm it was him that did it. So they send out warnings for Seth Riot and his posse,” explained Morgan as he looked at the sheriff who seemed to be getting more and more agitated.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“So we’re safe as long as Seth doesn’t think we are hiding things,” said Jeremy not really placated by the notion that his fate was in the hands of a wild and unpredictable man desperate to live.

“I guess we’re about to find out,” said Morgan as he saw the sheriff seem to wilt under Seth’s presence before Seth turned around to climb onto the veranda of the nearest saloon so that he could address all present.

“My name is Seth Riot, and I am here for one reason and one reason only. I am here to find Chocolate Milk and so long as none of you get in my way you will be spared my wroth. In the mean time, we will be using this town as our base while we explore the region. If you have any objections to this fact, then I suggest you leave for your own good,” said Seth as he looked about, his face visible from under his hat.

Seth’s face was a thing of nightmares. His left eye had changed into pure brown and was weeping black fudge down his face like it was tears. His skin complexion was pasty white with veins of brown streaking deep beneath and finally his moustache and other hair seemed to be going white prematurely, with random strands seeming to fall off his face anytime he so much as moved.

“What idiotic thing did you do this time?” whispered Morgan more to himself than because he wanted an answer.

“He tried to fix his illness and made it worse,” said an old voice from behind Morgan and Jeremy, a voice that sounded both weary and at the same time full of life.

Turning slowly the two men came face to face with one of the so-called outlaws that followed Seth about. An outlaw that had managed to sneak up on them by circling around a building to get behind them, all the while moving in such a way that he would not draw attention from anyone, even those he stalked.

“Old Willy, how have you been?” asked Morgan recognising the old man before him, a long time veteran of the search for Chocolate Milk, a man so old that even constantly drinking milk was no longer able to get rid of the traces of his true age.

Giving Morgan a startled look Jeremy wore a face that screamed out ‘What are you doing?’, while at the same time the man called Old Willy simply raised an eyebrow at the name and refused to be baited into action.

“Are you drinking enough milk? I ask because you should be aware that most call me Old Will or William, and the only way you could forget such a fact was because you’re down on milk and it’s starting to let the dementia creep in,” asked Old Will as he looked back and forth between both Morgan and the Jeremy.

“My mind is still sound,” said Morgan with a dry smile before he glanced around. “Where is your shadow Greg Custard?

“You know his name is George,” said Old Will in admonishment at the antics that Morgan was up to.

“Sorry, where is Grog? Or did he finally get on the wrong end of Seth’s wroth?” asked Morgan with a spark of hope in his voice.

“He’s still about,” said Old Will neutrally so as not to give away anything to Morgan, before he turned his sharp, blue eyed gaze upon Jeremy “You haven’t introduced me to your friend here.”

“This is Jeremy Greensmith. He’s the town’s local Greensmith,” said Morgan with a confidence and directness that made Jeremy stare at Morgan with eyes just about to pop out of their sockets in shock.

“It is a pleasure to meet you Jeremy Greensmith,” said Old Will making sure to get Jeremy’s name correct while offering his hand to shake. “I look forward to working with you for the coming months. I sincerely wish to get along.”

Shaking the outlaw’s hand more out of reflex, Jeremy just nodded not really sure about what to do next but happy to just fade into the background when Old Will shifted his attention back to Morgan.

“Listen here, Morgan Rust. If you want to avoid any trouble then you won’t get in our way,” said Old Will before nodding his head at Jeremy and walking back to talk to Seth who had managed to climb down off of the veranda.

“What was that?” asked Jeremy concerned for the fact that Morgan had just explained his profession in such a blunt manner.

“If they know you are a Greensmith and a good one at that then Seth and his gang will leave you alone, so long as you work for them when needed,” explained Morgan as he continued to give a disgusted look towards the milling group of 20 or so outlaws.

“And if I refuse?” asked Jeremy already envisioning his future and the many things they could end up doing to him.

“Then you’ll end up working for them for free instead of for money,” said Morgan bluntly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Are you going to do anything about it?” asked Jeremy as he glanced back and forth between Morgan and the group of outlaws.

“What can I do against twenty outlaws, all of whom are itching to kill something or do something worse,” said Morgan solemnly.

“You can’t best them all?” asked Jeremy incredulously of the man who had remained calm and composed during the Fruitfall that had claimed his mother’s life.

“Not without risking the life of everyone here,” said Morgan aware that others had probably tried similar things to what he could plan out and that was why their towns had been supposedly wiped off the map by Seth.

“Then what do we do?” asked Jeremy hoping that Morgan would have a way out for the town.

“You continue your good work here, and I’ll continue my search for Chocolate Milk,” said Morgan without hesitation.

“That’s the best you can do?” asked Jeremy disappointed.

“For now…” said Morgan with a slight smile as he began to plan out something far more sinister than Seth could ever hope to imagine.

~~~

Morgan trudged through the sugar dunes towards the carcass of a giant lemon that had fallen from the sky, a lemon that Morgan had harvested from to get his Lemon Bombs and lemon seeds. Morgan hoped that there would still be Lemon Bombs that he could make use of, especially since lemons would deteriorate out here in this sugar desert.

The lemon itself was easily the size of a small mansion, with the lemon measuring at least 20 metres in length and a good five metres in width, although that last measurement was because Morgan had already raided its insides and as such it had deflated some.

Nearing the lemon its impressive height towering over Morgan who was just over 180cm tall, Morgan took a moment to look at it and paused as he saw bite marks at the edge of the lemon. These bite marks made Morgan pause not because they existed, for bite marks from the Gummi-Beasts that prowled the desert were normal on Fruitfalls. What gave Morgan pause was the fact that the bite marks came from something that Morgan didn’t recognise.

Sighing at his poor luck, Morgan gave the area a quick scan to make sure that he was alone out here and then got to work harvesting from the lemon.

Extracting Lemon Sacs intact was a slow and laborious task and at the same time it was extremely difficult. For if you made a mistake and got splashed with the fruity acid then you would melt away, and that’s if you were lucky. Some Fruitfall harvesters had lost limbs, mainly hands, from their work and had been forced to trudge back to their home base cradling their ruined limbs, all the while hoping against hope that they could somehow get chocolate to heal them.

Working with extreme care, Morgan extracted his 13th Lemon Sac when he picked up a disturbance in the world around him. All the time he had spent hunting the Sugarfiends in the sugar dunes had sharpened Morgan’s senses to the point that he would be able to tell if someone or something was approaching him.

Turning around with a Lemon Sac still in his right hand, Morgan reached for his gun on his left side, as he was capable of shooting with either hand with no noticeable difference in skill. Except instead of seeing the beast that had eaten the lemon, Morgan came face to face with two of Seth Riot’s gang: Old Will and George Custard.

Looking back and forth between the two men that were confronting him, Morgan knew that they had come for him. The only question that flashed through Morgan’s mind was whether or not they wanted to get information out of him before they killed him.

“Good to see you again, Old Willy,” said Morgan taking the initiative in the conversation so that he could keep the two outlaws off balance. “Miss me so much that you came all the way out here to see me again?”

“We came to ask a few little questions without anyone possibly overhearing us and misinterpreting what happened,” said Old Will, his usual unflappable nature making him immune to Morgan’s antics.

A trait that Old Will’s companion did not possess, because the moment after Will finished speaking George Custard spoke up.

“Yes we’re here for any information you have on Chocolate Milk and depending on how you answer your death will be quick and painless or slow and terrible,” snarled out George all the while oblivious to the fact that Old Will was looking at him with disgust, both for his obvious sadism and because the fool couldn’t hold his tongue.

Shifting his gaze over to the barely 20 year old outlaw who was mouthing off and ruining Old Will’s plans, Morgan took a moment to assess the boy before him before opening his mouth to speak, a sardonic smile warping his mouth. This act of mockery caused George to suddenly flush with rage before shouting to interrupt Morgan before he had said a single word.

“If you dare mock my last name then I will kill you here and now regardless of what information you might possess,” snarled George, his voice tinged with a lifetime of pain and impotent rage.

“Don’t worry Gruel, I won’t make fun of your last name,” said Morgan fully aware that of the two before him that George was the weak link. “After all even I have standards when it comes to insults.”

Gasping in rage and seemingly unable to compute what was happening to him, George tried to speak but only angry noises came out of his mouth.

“Before this gets ugly, tell me what I want to know and we can let you walk away,” said Old Will, his old face not matching the sudden burst of youth that filled his eyes as if the coming battle was waking up a sleeping part of him.

“Why should I tell anything to dead men?” asked Morgan with a sardonic smile warping not just his mouth but his entire face. And as Morgan’s words crossed the distance between the two parties, both Old Will and George Custard reeled back from the implied threat.

“Because you want the dead to know how much you had bested them,” said Old Will as he recovered his wits before George could even form a coherent thought.

“Sorry but I’m not a show off, like little Gretel over here,” said Morgan as he gestured towards George who looked like he was on the verge of having a fit from the overflowing emotions within him.

“A pity,” said Old Will with a smile that showed he could still find excitement in these clashes of life and death, even in his old age.

Not moving a single muscle save for his eyes, Morgan looked back and forth between the two men before him. Both were dangerous but in different ways. George Custard was a rabid dog begging to be let off its leash. Old Will despite his disdain for cruelty was a thrill seeker and one who could remain calm in any situation. This meant that regardless of their intentions it would be George that would start the fighting, but it would be Old Will who decided if the two men lived or died.

Choosing to pre-emptively attack, Morgan threw the Lemon Sac at George Custard who in his zeal and youth instead of wisely dodging the ball of acid decided to shoot it.

This act caused the Lemon Sac to rupture and spray out its acidic contents in the direction of the puncture. In other words it sprayed its acid all over George, and more specifically his right hand and only gun. This instantly caused George’s right hand to dissolve and his gun right along with it, causing the kid to collapse to the ground and start screaming in agony, while vainly grasping at what was left of his arm.

At the same time that he threw the Lemon Bomb at George, Morgan pulled out the gun on his left side and fired it at Old Will.

Except that the old gun fighter had been expecting something of that nature which was why the moment that he saw Morgan move, Old Will dived out of the way. Rolling across the ground, Will rolled to his knees and fired his gun back at Morgan. Not being able to react fully to Will’s movements, Morgan took a bullet to the left leg just above the knee and collapsed to the ground. But not without drawing his second gun with his right hand.

Landing on the ground, Morgan intentionally dropped his left gun and made it look like he hadn’t touched his right holster.

“I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you,” snarled out George Custard as he tried to crawl on all fours towards Morgan, his murderous intent plastered across his face.

“If you say so, Gnat,” said Morgan mockingly, for despite his situation Morgan knew that Old Will had shot to injure not to kill. This meant that he wanted Morgan alive and not dead.

“No you won’t,” said Old Will as he turned and shot George in the head killing the man instantly.

“I can’t believe you put up with him for so long,” admitted Morgan as he watched George slump to the ground dead and gone.

“He was Seth’s bastard,” admitted Old Will with a shrug, as if that was the only information that was needed.

“I see,” said Morgan aware that this meant that Old Will was going to kill him for ‘killing’ George, or at least that was what Old Will would say to Seth. “Tell me did George know that?”

“No, he had a big enough head as it was. Telling him he was the boss’s son would only have gotten him killed quicker,” said Old Will as he walked over to George’s corpse and shot him two more times in the back of his head, just to make sure.

“Three bullets wasted because you didn’t have the courage to kill him in his sleep with a knife,” mused Morgan as he started to prop himself up only to feel something wrong with his leg. There was no pain and he was losing feeling in the area around the bullet wound.

“Liquorice bullets,” said Old Will with a smile, “either you tell me what I need to know or you turn into pure liquorice and find out if liquorice still can think if it was once human.”

“Even if I tell you what you want to know I still die,” said Morgan as he stared at his thigh in horror.

“True, unless you are able to cut off your leg in time,” said Old Will with amusement as he allowed himself to descend down to what he considered to be Morgan’s level of maturity. “Then you’ll be known forever more as Mangled Morgan.”

“Damn, that does sound like a good name,” said Morgan in amusement and respect that Old Will was able to come up with such a name on the fly. “Pity you won’t get to tell anyone about it.”

“Because you’ll shoot me with your other gun?” asked Old Will sarcastically, revealing that he was not bothered by the possible threat to his life.

“No because you aren’t resistant to acid, but I eat anti-acid constantly,” said Morgan as he pulled his right arm up and shot backwards into the giant Lemon.

Widening his eyes in horror as he immediately saw what Morgan was trying to do; Old Will looked up at the Lemon expecting to see a wave of acidic lemon juice flow towards him. A wave of lemon juice that would be so large that it would wash him away, and dissolve him into nothingness, yet despite the bullet hitting the lemon the cascading wave of lemon juice did not come.

Blinking in shock, Old Will looked down to Morgan who had used this moment of distraction to point his gun at Old Will and fire.

The bullet hit Old Will straight in the chest and for a long moment it looked like Old Will would not fall from the wound, only for the man to collapse to his knees in shock.

“But my armour,” muttered Old Will astounded that his protecting clothing had allowed something as flimsy as a bullet to pierce his body.

“Against fizz-rock powder it would be enough, but not against black powder,” explained Morgan as he crawled back and grabbed a Lemon Sac and burst it over the liquorice flesh that had once been his leg.

Almost blacking out from the pain and the fact that he no longer had a left leg, Morgan forced himself to remain conscious, as he didn’t want to risk Old Will having a surprise way to survive. Grabbing another Lemon Sac, he lifted his arm up and prepared to throw it at Old Will who looked at Morgan with surprise even as the light began to fade from his eyes.

“I never would have thought of that,” admitted Old Will as he looked at Morgan’s leg before he keeled over and stopped breathing.

Seeing that both of the men looked very dead, Morgan felt a moment of relief before deciding to make sure. Morgan threw two Lemon Bombs onto the two corpses, one for each, turning them both into headless corpses. Which Morgan hoped against hope that neither would have a way of surviving, as he had seen Gummi-beasts survive such injuries and not even seem bothered by the fact, although Gummi-Beasts didn’t have internal organs so they wouldn’t actually lose anything by losing their heads.

Collapsing onto his back as the pain and some blood loss got to him, Morgan looked up at the sky and saw the pink cotton candy floating about in the sky all the while strange thoughts filled his mind.

Yet before he was lost consciousness, Morgan heard something that made him turn his head and see a giant creature, about 3 metres long, land on the giant Lemon behind him. A creature he had only heard about in stories. A creature that had eluded him for centuries and was one of the fables he longed to find. And as he slowly lost his grip on consciousness he uttered this mythical creature’s name in awe.

“Bees…”

~~~

Waking with a start, Morgan sat upright and looked down in amazement at the fact that he now had two legs, covered in white trousers. Especially since he recalled in painfully clear detail how he had destroyed one of his legs.

“Well this is an unexpected surprise,” said Morgan aloud before he started to focus in on the room that he was currently resting in.

The room was predominately white, but it had yellow and gold flourishes everywhere. There was a series of shelves on the wall opposite the bed that Morgan was lying on, but unlike normal shelves that would be square or rectangular in nature the shelves before him were in the shapes of hexagons.

Not really sure how he felt about the odd architecture, Morgan got out of the bed and walked towards the end of the room which opened onto a balcony of some sort. The balcony was walled off with a veil of white sheets and the moment that Morgan pushed past them what he saw made his mouth drop open in shock.

The city before him was primarily white like the room; however it had splashes of colour in the same manner of the room. Except instead of it being just paint or fabric or even metal, it was honeycomb.

The city was made up from white buildings, pillars and spires, and dotted within were giant hives from which came giant bees. Some of the bees were 3 metres in length, with some of these bees having humans riding upon them. Others bees reached over ten metres and were being used to transport entire carriages of people about. What’s more the city had rivers of milk flowing back and forth throughout the city.

The humans had white togas upon them and they all had blond hair and golden eyes. All of them looked beautiful like they had stepped forth from a masterpiece painting.

Leaning against the railing of the balcony, Morgan shook his head to try and clear it up to make sure that he wasn’t dreaming about fancy and impossible things, like worlds of metal buildings that ran on bottle lightning.

“I didn’t think the afterlife would be so bee centric. I guess those crazy priests saying the sun was a Solar-Scarab were correct,” said Morgan out loud once he had confirmed that he was indeed awake.

“Sorry to disappoint, but you are not in the afterlife. You are in Hivelantis,” said a voice from behind Morgan.

Turning around Morgan came face to face with a man that was dressed like all the rest. He wore a white toga that looped over only one shoulder revealing a chiselled chest and he had the same golden hair and eyes as the rest.

“My name is Cloud Byte,” said Cloud with a short bow. “May I please know who I am talking to?”

“My name is Morgan Rust,” said Morgan politely not wishing to insult his saviours.

“An interesting name,” said Cloud with a smile before gesturing for Morgan to sit at a nearby white table. “Please sit and I will answer your questions.”

“I only have a few,” said Morgan as he glanced out at the magnificent city before him before walking back into the room. “If I am not dead, how did you heal me of my injuries? Where are my things? And can I leave?”

“Your things are in that chest,” said Cloud as he pointed to a chest near the door Cloud had come in through, a chest that Morgan had been too distracted to notice when he had first woken up. “And yes you can indeed leave if you want, however I ask that you at least listen to what I have to say before you do so.”

“Ok, regale me,” said Morgan as he leaned back in his seat waiting to hear what the denizen of the Hivelantis wanted to sell him on.

“We periodically go out and hunt down Fruitfalls so that we can harvest them and feed the Bees that are the primary source of life for Hivelantis,” explained Cloud carefully as he tried to gauge how Morgan would react. “We found you and two others next to a Lemon and we took you all back here to try and save your lives.”

“Wait,” said Morgan as he sat up quickly realising that it was possible his saviours had revived William and George. “You didn’t bring them back to life did you?”

“Unfortunately you were the only one we could save. The other two lost their lives in the lemon harvest,” said Cloud, clearly having arrived at the wrong interpretation of what had happened.

“Not what happened but go on,” said Morgan as he didn’t want to turn this into an overly long conversation.

“We brought you back here and based on your severe wounds the only method we had of saving you was giving you honey,” said Cloud apologetically.

“Why are you apologising?” asked Morgan not really sure if he should be worried or not, as he had heard about honey’s healing properties in legend before.

“I think a physical demonstration would be best,” said Cloud as he pulled a dagger of bone from out of his toga and with a shift and sudden motion cut off one of his own fingers.

“Ok?” said Morgan as he leaned back from the man before him only to realise that the severed digit hadn’t hit the table, instead a pile of honey had.

“Honey doesn’t just heal you it turns you into living sentient honey,” said Cloud as he touched the mass of honey on the table with his other hand and reabsorbed the honey into his body. After which the severed digit regrew at such blinding speeds that if Morgan had blinked he might have missed it.

“Are you saying you turned me into immortal sentient honey?” asked Morgan both shocked and a little elated at the idea.

“Yes,” replied Cloud simply.

“That actually might be very helpful in future endeavours,” said Morgan as he took the news in stride.

“There is more to all of this than just being immortal,” said Cloud seriously. “Honey gives you a host of other powers beyond just being immortal.”

“Like what?” asked Morgan, intrigued by his new abilities.

“You can turn into pure honey and move around that way,” said Cloud as he transformed his right hand, the hand still holding the bone dagger into pure honey that flowed and morphed into a long transparent orange blade, “it’s how I got into the room without opening the door.”

“How did you get your clothes through the crack under my door then?” asked Morgan before realising a possible solution.

“I can absorb my clothes and then eject them,” explained Cloud as a smile spread across his face, as he had guessed what answer Morgan had assumed.

“All of this sounds incredibly advantageous, so, why are you so worried?” asked Morgan clearly aware that there were bound to be some form of demerits for being made from sentient honey.

“Because others will try to eat you to obtain your power. Gummi-beasts will also try to eat you for nourishment. And because if you ever get caught in a situation from which you can’t escape, you will be trapped until the end of time,” said Cloud, his expression making it clear he had lost people to these sorts of situations before. “This is why we warn you not to leave at least without a fellow squadron of Honey-kin and their bees.”

“I appreciate the concern, but I have things to do, people to save, wonders to discover,” said Morgan as he walked over to the chest and opened it so that he could retrieve his stuff.

“If you leave Hivelantis you will risk death and destruction if you’re lucky. There are even worse fates for those that get caught and used for all sorts of experiments. If you leave here you risk more than just death you risk eternal suffering,” said Cloud passionately clearly trying to get Morgan to reconsider.

“There are two kinds of people that seek immortality, those that simply fear to die and those that fear they will never see the entire majesty of the unending universe,” said Morgan slowly as he got dressed in his undamaged clothing. Morgan’s words caused Cloud to stop dead and listen to words that seemed to carry the weight of eternity within. “I am in the latter category. That is why I seek Chocolate Milk. That is why I am on an endless journey. Because in my journeys I seek to see, find and experience all the wonders and mysteries of the world. ”

“That’s why you will leave,” said Cloud having come to the realisation that he would only be able to stop Morgan with force and thereby inflict the same horrors that Cloud was trying to prevent from happening.

“You have given me a form of immortality and I thank you,” said Morgan, his eyes sparkling with sincerity. “However that doesn’t mean that I will give up the wonders of the world and hide here for the rest of time. Plus I have lives to save.”

“I understand,” said Cloud sadly, “You’re not the first person looking for Chocolate Milk who has come to Hivelantis and you’re not the first to turn down paradise.”

“There are many forms of paradise. This is just one of them. My job is to find the rest,” said Morgan as he finished getting dressed in what remained of his clothes and put his hat back on his head.

“But before you drop me back where you found me, can I ask for one more favour…” said Morgan as a sudden and wicked idea bloomed within his mind.

~~~

Morgan leaned against the clock tower of Greenville and waited for what was to come. If everything worked out as he planned then he would be able to cut down the outlaw gang in a single move.

Once Morgan had gotten back, he had made a beeline to Jeremy and using the Lemon Sac’s he had harvested and managed to secure from Hivelantis, the two had concocted a plan to rid the town of the outlaws. Although Jeremy had not believed Morgan when he said he might get some work from people who ride on giant bees in the future.

The plan had been very simple. Jeremy had created a chemical that neutralised the lemon acid for a set amount of time. This chemical was special, because it would only be broken down by human stomach acids, which in turn would allow the lemon juice to return to its normal acidic nature. And once this concoction had been created Morgan had used his newly acquired powers to place it within the ale of the inn that the outlaw gang was staying in.

And now Morgan waited to see how many of these outlaws had been willing to skip breakfast and ale today.

A question that was soon answered as multiple screams echoed out from the inn. Screams both of the poor waitresses who were watching their customers melt from the inside out, and screams from the men experiencing the phenomenon.

Standing up straight, Morgan walked out into the middle of the deserted road and waited to see if any survivors would come bursting out of the inn.

Opening up the doors to the inn, a single outlaw walked out from the inn and onto the same deserted road, an outlaw that Morgan had been hoping would be taken out by the acidic drink. But in the back of Morgan’s mind he knew that Seth Riot would somehow someway find a way to escape from the fate that Morgan had planned for him.

“I take it that both George and William are dead,” said Seth as he stopped walking and stood clear across from Morgan his hand upon the gun at his hip.

“Very much so,” said Morgan with grim finality, to make sure that Seth knew that his closest ally and his bastard son were both dead and gone.

“I also take it that you’re responsible for that mess?” asked Seth as he pointed in the direction of the inn with his free hand, all the while making sure not to take his eyes off of Morgan.

“Yes I am responsible for that as well,” admitted Morgan without a hint of guilt at causing such a miserable and horrific death.

“What do you think we should do about that?” asked Seth, his voice filled with a barely contained rage while his eyes started to leak fudge infected tears that stained his face black and brown. This visage combined with Seth’s barely contained rage made him look like a demon that had just manifested upon the world.

“I think we should end this farce. I recommend pistols at the sound of the bell, but we could start shooting now and see what happens,” said Morgan assured of his victory.

Laughing aloud, Seth seemed like he couldn’t believe what Morgan had suggested, a sentiment that the rest of the town agreed with, if their gaping mouths were anything to go by. Even Jeremy, who had witnessed Morgan’s new powers first hand when the man had returned with his collection of Lemon Sacs, was staring bug eyed at the man trying desperately to figure out what Morgan was thinking.

“You want to draw off against me to see who lives and dies, me. Me! ME! The fastest gun in the known world!” said Seth with rage and bafflement fighting against each other as it was clear that Seth couldn’t understand why Morgan was throwing his life away.

“Let’s just say I want to honour the man you used to be by letting you die in a memorable way,” said Morgan with a sad smile as he referenced the man Seth had been before he had encountered chocolate fudge which was now turning his body into chocolate fudge cell by cell. “I want to give you a death befitting of a legendary outlaw, not one that I have to put down like a rabid dog.”

Aware on some level that Morgan was baiting him into action, the truth was that Seth was so far gone that he couldn’t think rationally enough to know that this was a trap.

“Very well then, pistols at the sound of the bell,” said Seth as a mad look filled his eyes as he readied himself to fire the moment the bell rang to tell the town that it was 9 in the morning. Except that the time at the moment was 8:55 which meant that the two gunslingers would have to wait for another five minutes before the bell rang, which was one of the reasons that Morgan had suggested it.

For Morgan knew that concentrating on the bell for five whole minutes would stretch Seth’s concentration and cause him to slip up. And when Seth slipped up Morgan would pounce and shoot the man.

Morgan had initially expected to have to wait for two maybe even three minutes before Seth would slip up, but Seth appeared to not have the ability to wait patiently for even a minute. Because about one minute into the standoff, Seth glanced at the bell as if he could somehow see how long it would take to ring, and the moment that Seth was foolish enough to take his eyes off of Morgan, Morgan shot him.

Morgan pulled his gun out of his holster with his right hand and shot Seth in the dead centre of his chest.

Blinking in shock, Seth looked down at the gunshot wound in his chest and then up at Morgan. Seemingly unable to feel the damage Morgan had inflicted upon him, Seth pulled his gun and fired several times into Morgan each bullet hitting Morgan in various different body parts. Some bullets hit him in the leg, others in the arms or even the chest, however none were aimed at Morgan’s head for whatever reason.

“Do you think you could kill me with a single, simple bullet?” asked Seth with a roar of rage. “I am turning into living fudge; my body heals even as it becomes something other than flesh, because despite being fudge it is still chocolate. And chocolate heals all or did the sugar dunes fry your mind!”

“No I know full well about your healing abilities, even if they are killing you,” said Morgan as he stood straight, because as the bullets had hit him he had swayed on his feet to give the impression that he was falling over from his injuries.

“What?!” shouted Seth in shock. And as Seth shouted he stared in pure confusion at the man that should be a bleeding mass of mutilated flesh. A man that was now standing upright and unharmed without a drop of blood to show for the bullet holes he had in his clothes.

“Looking for these?” asked Morgan as he raised his left hand up and willed the honey his body was made from to eject the bullets out of his left palm.

Staring at the display in confusion, Seth opened his mouth to ask a question before he realised the truth of how Morgan had survived.

“You’ve been to Hivelantis, you’ve found the legendary land of Milk and Honey,” said Seth with pure desperation in his voice. “You can save me!”

“You are beyond saving Seth,” said Morgan solemnly.

“You will tell me where it is, even if I have to torture you for days,” said Seth with a manic grin before trying to walk forward to grab Morgan, only for his legs to fail to move. A fact that made Seth stare down in horror at his legs.

“The reason I showed you what I have become was so that you would die knowing salvation was within your grasp,” continued Morgan, his face still solemn as he walked closer to Seth.

“What have you done to me,” said Seth, true fear filling his voice.

“Just a little gift from Old William, a bullet made from liquorice,” said Morgan as his eyes seemed to pierce into the depths of Seth’s soul.

Realising that he was turning into pure liquorice and that he might become a statue that was completely sentient yet forever unable to feel or see or hear, Seth chose to try and escape. He raised his gun up to try and finish himself only to see that he had expended all of his bullets trying to kill Morgan.

Dropping his gun, Seth stared defiantly at Morgan and spoke even as his throat was slowly turning into liquorice.

“You best hope this kills me, because if I ever get revived then I will hunt you to the end of the world and beyond. I swear this on the Great Apple, and all the light within the sky,” said Seth with impotent rage filling his voice.

“I’ll be waiting, although I think I will be disappointed, scaredy cat Seth,” said Morgan using a nickname from long ago when Seth had been still new to the job of seeking out Chocolate Milk.

Watching to make sure that Seth had completely turned into liquorice, Morgan inspected the statue of liquorice and was surprised to see that even Seth’s clothes were being converted to liquorice. Shuddering at the fate he had inflicted upon Seth, Morgan turned away and signalled that everything was done and that he was victorious.

Streaming out of the buildings that surrounded the deserted street the townspeople looked at Seth’s liquorice statue with horror and joy all the while celebrating that the outlaws had been dealt with. This celebration became so wide spread that the entire crowd celebrated while keeping a distance from Seth’s statue. And in the confusion created by the celebration Morgan slipped out of the crowd and made his way to Jeremy’s laboratory.

“What will you do now?” asked Jeremy. The Greensmith had followed the gunslinger from the street with the intent of knowing what came next.

“I’ll leave,” said Morgan with a shrug as he continued on to the laboratory to retrieve his stuff.

“And do what?” asked Jeremy, a question that brought Morgan up short, just as he was about to enter the laboratory.

“The same as I have always done,” said Morgan with a genuine smile, “except this time I can afford to take even greater risks.”

“Why, you already have immortality,” said Jeremy as he pursued Morgan into his own laboratory.

“You don’t get it, do you?” asked Morgan as he turned around to look at Jeremy, his back framed by green vegetation and golden motes of light that were glowing in the air. “I sought after adventure and wonder. Immortality was only even a hope never the actual goal.”

Staring in disbelief before finally truly understanding the intentions of the man before him, a man, that while backlit by green and gold, looked like a hero out of legend, Jeremy bowed his head and nodded.

“Alright then, go out and challenge the impossible and find that which doesn’t exist,” said Jeremy as he looked up at the man that had saved him so long ago from the horror that had taken his mother. “I’ll do the same here.”

“Very well then, when next I visit I expect to find wonders,” said Morgan with a mischievous grin as he picked up his stuff and walked from the room leaving behind only a single sentence that hung majestically in the air.

“Until then, I’ll be off in search for Chocolate Milk…”

~~~

Epilogue:

Jeremy Greensmith relaxed in his steam powered, mobile chair under the shade of a massive oak tree. Its green leaves obscured the pink cotton candy clouds that were floating through the sky. And as he sat in his steam powered chair he looked out at his great grand children that were playing in the field before him. A green field filled with what seemed to be an endless amount of grass, a field he had created in defiance of the world and all that seemed to make sense to everyone else.

Shifting his gaze away from his great grandchildren who were making wreaths of flowers, Jeremy Greensmith looked out at the horizon from the small hill he was sitting on, and from his vantage point he saw so much. He saw the town he had changed into a bustling city of commerce. He saw the statue of Seth Riot encased in copper standing at the entrance of the city, a stark warning about what would befall trouble makers. And beyond even that Jeremy saw the Great Apple cresting over the horizon to signify that it was soon going to be night and that the giant green apple would fill the sky.

Marvelling at the beauty of the place he had created, Jeremy smiled in satisfaction and knew that his last 98 years upon this world had been worth every single second. And that he would not do a single thing differently if he could do it all over again.

“You seem content, Jeremy,” said a voice from behind Jeremy, a voice that Jeremy recognised.

Startled Jeremy pushed on some of the controls of his chair and with a whistle the chair powered up and turned him around so that he was now looking behind him, and what he saw made the old man that Jeremy had become tear up.

“Morgan, you’re still alive,” said Jeremy in shock and joy, at seeing the man that had helped change his life for the better each and every time they had met.

“Yes, yes I am,” said Morgan with a smile and a youthful zeal that made Jeremy blink in shock, because even all those years ago Morgan had not had this sort of air about him.

“Don’t tell me you actually found it,” said Jeremy as he leaned forward to try and get a better look at the man before him.

“Oh yes,” said Morgan as he raised a metal tank for Jeremy to look at, “I found Chocolate Milk. It turns out there are underground rivers of the stuff, but the rivers change almost yearly so you can miss out on finding Chocolate Milk by a few days if you’re not careful.”

“Does it make you immortal?” asked Jeremy as curiosity got the best of him.

“Oh yes it does,” said Morgan with a smile as he lowered the metal tank down next to his leg. “I’ve come here to give you an offer. One I hope you’ll take up.”

Blinking in shock, Jeremy took a long moment to think about the offer that Morgan had presented to him. Slowly Jeremy used his steam powered chair to turn around to look at the green flowing fields before him, his great grand children and back towards his home where his wife and children were still living.

“Why me?” asked Jeremy finally.

“Because you created all of this,” said Morgan as he came to stand next to Jeremy, as he too looked over the wonders Jeremy had created. “Because there is still much to do and I think that you deserve to see it to its end. And because I think fondly of you when I cast my mind back to the time we worked together.”

“Do you have enough for me and my wife?” asked Jeremy as he glanced down at his home not wishing to leave her behind.

“I have enough for whatever you need,” said Morgan with a smile and gestured to the house, “and if you would be willing to introduce me I would be willing to offer up a new adventure in life.”

“Which is?” asked Jeremy with an expectant glance, even as he powered up his machine chair and made it start rolling towards his home.

“Tell me have you heard about the search for Strawberry Milk…?”