Althea works her magic to restore my shredded duds and salvage what she can of her defeated Knights, including Sir Biscuit. Then, like a chaos-sniffing hunting dog, she finds the way out hidden in the chamber walls. With a few solid punches from me, we finally break out of Bub's tomb and get on with things.

We stroll down a long, but not too crazy hallway and roll up on a huge, twisted-looking solid black gate with a bunch of garbage and other crap scattered like a dumpster exploded in front of it.

"Yo," I stop and turn to Althea. "This is Zazel's room. I mean, it's gotta be, right?"

She makes a little noise under her breath. "Without a doubt."

"Okay, I want you to stay here. I'm worried you might set her off."

She frowns. "Are you quite certain? There is no telling how she might try to bewitch or corrupt you."

"If you come in there with me, she's probably gonna lose her shit. Like you said, she's Unreleased, so we gotta play it cool. Just leave it to me."

She stalls a bit, then blinks her war hammer and shield away. "Very well, Hero," she bows her head and folds her hands together. "I will pray for you."

"Don't worry so much, its all good-"

She begins to whisper gently, and the air begins to feel warm and breezy. Then she raises her right hand. "Holy Blessing!"

A gentle golden-white light shines down from somewhere, covering us like a spotlight. The warmth of the light penetrates deep into my bones. It gives me a warm, cozy feeling and a slight sense that the universe favors me in some weird way.

Althea nods, calm and determined as ever.

I give her a thumbs up, push open the mighty doors, and walk into a pitch black room.

The doors crash shut behind me and the 'lights' go on. The huge room is painted in every imaginable color with strange and jarring patterns. It isn't just the walls; even the floor and some of the furniture is painted as though whoever did it didn't stop the paint roller after reaching the bottom.

The are posters and pictures, some of which also got painted over, on the walls of some kind of wild abstract art. Their frames are at wild angles as though they were spun around randomly on their mounts.

The furniture is a mismatch of different styles, and the floor is littered with an assortment of snacks, drinks, games, adult toys, and all kinds of garbage and unused creature comforts. The huge bed is unmade and covered in wrinkled sheets, and there is a pile of dirty laundry in the corner.

The room is also filled with a variety of strange objects and artifacts that don't look like they belong in a bedroom. There is a giant sword hanging on the wall, a small crystal ball sitting on the dresser, a statue of a dog that looks like it was made by some kid, and a bunch of large figures that look kind of like people, but all messed up and bubbly.

It's messy as all hell, but it's kind of homey at the same time. It reminds me a bit of when I was living with my girlfriend, minus the color scheme. Games, shitty food, and smashing were all we had to ease the pain in those days.

"Are you going to fight me, or did you just come here to gawk!?"

My eyes snap to the far back wall of the party crypt. Laying sideways on a big, fancy obsidian black couch is a tan, curvy, little imp of a woman in a white strapless leotard with big jet black wavy pigtails. Her ears have lots of little black earrings and studs, and her bright pale eyes are nearly as vivid and blue as the round, shiny stone on her chest.

I shrug. "Maybe none. Maybe both."

I quickly switch focus to her curves; they're everything a man could want, but more than he might be able to handle.

She notices me checking her out. "Well, at least you have good taste!"

The golden boobs of ebb and jiggle a bit behind the white silky sheen of her outfit as she gets off the couch and her broad, round hips, sway and gyrate with each step as she struts toward me with cocky little smile. Her short, curvy legs, one with a footless black stocking and one without, end in bare feet with toes that have little pointy black claws, which click slightly against the hard floor with each step.

"So, what's up Zazel? You ready to get this shit show on the road?"

She stops, putting a hand on her hip. "So, you already know my True Name. That has interesting implications."

"Maybe, maybe not."

She looks me up and down for a moment, but her smirk melts and she makes a face like she stepped in dog shit. "Oh, I see God's favorite lickspittle regurgitated her magic on you. Anyway, what do you want?"

"I need your help. The Liberation Society is gonna run train on this world and all our asses and we need to get in gear to fight 'em or we're all screwed. So pack your shit and let's hit the road!"

"Autofellate, you absolute creature!" She reaches down and throws a half-empty bottle of who-knows-what at me like a rocket.

It sails past my head. "Yo, I should be throwing crap at you after your freak nearly ruined-" She launches another just over my head. "Hey, knock that shit off!"

"I'll do what I want! This is my room!" She picks up a bag of something, cranks her arm back then stops. She looks inside, raises her eyebrows, and starts eating whatever's inside it.

The chamber echos with the sound of her chewing as she stares at me with a nasty, childish face.

I fold my arms. "Come on. Seriously?"

She sticks her tongue at me; a big, gross glob of orange-colored food hangs from her long tongue. She smacks her food a couple more times before finally swallowing. "Seriously."

"Dude, don't you care that your world gonna get taken over by a bunch of brainwashed assholes and death machines?"

"No. In fact, we could use a little action around here. This world is beyond dull."

"Okay, so what do you think you're gonna do that's so much better than joining up with me? It's not like you can go anywhere."

"I'm quite content get drunk, eat cookies, and pleasure myself as I watch the world burn, like it deserves."

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

"Wow, that's not cool."

"Says who!?" She throws the balled up snack wrapper at me, but she misses her shot again. "You come in here with your big muscles and cocky attitude and act like you know me. Who do you think you are!?"

"I'm the Hero, obviously."

She snorts and her lips curl. "Hero? That collar of yours doesn't meaning anything other than you're God's favorite pet!"

"Tsk, I ain't anyone's pet!"

"You wouldn't be here otherwise! You must have been very, very loyal."

I look away. "It's not like I chose this, but-"

"Well, I didn't get a choice either; I've been forced to fritter about alone down here for hundreds of years! And even if I could leave, there's nothing but grass out there! God's a bully, a tyrant, and worse yet, a total bore. I don't care if his world gets stolen by some Liberation Society. Besides, liberation's a good thing, isn't it?"

I open my mouth, but stop as an almost indescribable feeling comes over me. It feels kind of like I'm about to take the bull of reality by the horns in some huge, cosmic rodeo.

"First of all," I take a few steps and point at her. "There's hardly anything out there because you haven't been Released yet, and we can't get the process rolling without you."

"Yeah, I know. And I don't care."

"Oh, yeah? And what do you think's gonna happen when the Limp Dick Society gets here? You think they're actually serious about liberation? Yeah fucking right. I know these assholes, and I know how they get off. The first thing they're gonna do is roll right the fuck in here and force you to join them. And you're gonna go along with it because you're bored and wild."

She glares at me like a little kid who was just served a piece of broccoli for desert.

I keep going. "But then, when they realize they aren't going to be able to take you out of here to brainwash you or control you, because you're an Unreleased stubborn brat, they're gonna break you down mentally and physically until every single fucking one of them gets to take a piece of your ass home in a fucking doggy bag!"

"Don't act like you know me!" she scowls, her eyes practically on fire. "Go lick scat, you cretin!"

"Really?"

"Really! Lick. Scat."

"Oh yeah? What do you think is gonna happen then, huh?"

She stares at me with a face more sour than a nine volt battery.

And I stare right the fuck back.

She holds for a good bit, but finally breaks away. The anger melts slowly from her face as she stares at the wall for a few moments.

Then, she turns back around and her devilish bright blue eyes scan me up and down a few times. "You're not as dumb as you look, which is really saying something considering you look like a lumpy, two-legged steak."

She takes a few more steps over to me, one hand on her waist. "I just wish you hadn't Released that disgusting little sycophant. She's going to do nothing but ruin our fun."

I shrug. "I had no choice. God said we have to have both of you in the fight or the assholes will take the cake."

She freezes. "What?" She blinks and her eyebrows pinch together. "Your master was actually willing lower himself enough to speak to you? I need details," she snaps her fingers. "Now."

I shrug again. "Didn't get none. He said the three of us need to stay alive and that I need to make chaos and order balanced or something."

"'The three of us'?"

"Yeah. You, me, and Althea."

She shakes her head. "So he decided to simply lump us all together to do some task for him? Resplendent."

"Yeah, pretty much."

She folds her arms and raises an eyebrow. "So that's it? That's all he told you?"

"Yeah, that's it."

She starts pacing around, chewing a bit on one of her black nails and staring down at the floor.

I hold up my palms. "What gives?"

She keeps going a bit more, then stops and raises and eyebrow at me. "Let's go back a little," she pokes the air in my direction. "How did you learn my True Name?"

"What?"

"You heard me, brisket. Answer the question."

I push the bridge of my shades. "God told me."

"God told you, did he?"

"Why's it matter, anyway?"

She eyes me suspiciously for a few seconds, then she shakes her head. "This isn't how it's supposed to go."

"What do you mean?"

She scoffs. "You should be all slacked-jawed, awestruck, and drooling all over me right now. And I should be telling you about the Trial I devised for you, and how I will join you in some amazing journey to free all the other Elementals if you pass it."

"So what?"

"So, that's the way it's supposed to be! But instead, you walk in here totally indifferent and completely unastonished, as if you know me and you've done this all before. Then you tell me about how invaders from who-knows-where are going to come here and either kill or indoctrinate everyone if I don't help you and my antithesis incarnate to fend them off."

"Uh, okay."

Zazel blinks and shakes her head. She looks around like she's checking for bugs.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but something is terribly wrong. Something bigger is happening, I can feel it. I don't know what, but this isn't how things are supposed to be."

She turns her gaze back to me gives me a big, giddy smile. "And I love it!"

"Huh?"

She squeals and jumps up and down as she claps her hands. "Finally, there's a sign that the system is breaking! I'm finally going to see some real chaos! This world will be our personal playground! And it sound like there's gonna be a war! I can't wait to-"

She suddenly looks like her dad just grounded her or something.

"What now?"

She fold her arms. "Are you quite positive we need Order? I just know she's going to try to tie me down and ruin my fun. Not that she can, but her attempts will be annoying all the same."

"God was pretty damn clear that the three of us are a package deal. And I know Althea's a bit of a sick in the mud, but she's not so bad. 'Sides, she's tough and her magic is good."

Zazel makes a stink face and glares at me through narrowed eyes. "Wait, what exactly is the nature of your relationship with with that hammer-toting wench?"

"Uh, I dunno. I guess we're friends? Allies? War buddies?"

Her face instantly twists into a look of sheer disgust. "Hmph. It's time for your Trial."

"Okay," I blink, "We don't have a lot of time, so I guess we should just get it done over with."

"This isn't going to be some ordinary chore, you utter sausage. Prepare yourself."

She spins around and stomps away to the far end of the room, stopping by something that looks like a car-sized toybox.

"The hell are you doing?"

"Quiet, you."

The big iron chest is so full of crap that the lid can't even close halfway, and the pile of junk inside it looks like an avalanche of trash that got frozen in time.

Zazel dives in and starts digging around the huge chest like she's diving for treasure. The pile drips garbage as she rummages and rummages, swearing under her breath occasionally until she freezes.

She lets out a naughty little squeal as she takes out a sizable glass cylinder of super bright green liquid, which finally causes a mess of booze bottles, snack wrappers, weird sex toys, and some magical-looking doodads to come rushing to the floor like a landslide.

She completely ignores the mess and examines the big glowing jar with a face that almost looks serious.

I raise an eyebrow. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"I want you," she says as she comes back over, "To drink this."

She holds it up to me and I get a good look at it. There's something floating in the middle.

"Is that... A mushroom?" I take the jar and squint as I hold it up to my face for a second, then I look back at her. "Are you trying to poison me?"

"Yes. Please drink this and die."

I pull down my shades and stare at her.

She grins. "This is my special mixture. If you drink the whole thing, and tell me what you see after, you will pass the trial. Assuming what you see is to my liking, of course."

"Wait, this is gonna make me trip?"

"It's not going to be a mere 'trip', fool."

I examine the contents again. Its bright yellow-green color reminds me of nuclear waste from a cartoon or something. "Yeah, I bet."

"No objections, then?"

"Hm. I guess not."

"Good. I'll make it official," she clears her throat much louder than necessary then spreads her arms out wide and deepens her voice like she's pretending to be a man. "Hero! Your Trial begins now! Drink this concoction, behold the subsequent visions, and iterate them to me! Should your visions be to my satisfaction, you will be deemed worthy of my esteemed company and awesome power!"

I bring the jar even closer as I check out the weird, fat mushroom floating inside the fluid. "Do I gotta eat that, too? I don't like mushrooms."

"No," she drops her arms and speaks normally again. "At this point, that's just there for, uh, texture."

I try to pull the cap off and I hear a little crack.

"Careful, you idiot!"

"Yo," I hand it back. "I can't open it without breaking it. You do it."

"You're such a lump." She screws the lid off and hands it back to me.

"Whatever. Down the hatch." I upend the over-sized beaker into my mouth, shotgunning it like a beer while trying to avoid gulping down the nasty-ass mushroom.

I feel the liquid drizzle down my throat and into my belly. It tastes surprisingly good, like a weird cocktail of berries, vodka, and ass.

"Shit," I can feel mixture's effects kicking in even before it's completely drained. "I'm in for a helluva ride, I think."

"You're not the only one."