Well.

This is an experience then, isn’t it?

I wasn’t even aware this many creatures of any kind could fit in my courtyard and the surrounding areas, but somehow my wife has managed to fit what must be at least a million of them.

At least a million of what?

FAE.

Teeming hordes of the terrors, some big, some small, but all dripping malice with a supernatural hunger in their eyes.

And yet somehow, waiting patiently, silently, as though waiting for something.

That something, meanwhile, is standing over me, looking down expectantly and radiating those same destructive emotions she has been since I told her about our missing child.

Our taken child.

I know what she wants now though. I know what she wants me to do.

After all, even she can’t freely enter heavens or hells that their patrons haven’t opened for access, or ones that we’ve been explicitly banned from entering.

…

But I can. They can’t stop me if I enter through means outside the Record.

Taking to the air, I float slowly upwards before Artemis and after a brief moment of meaningful eye contact, I lean forward and kiss one small point on her nose.

And the swarms of ethereal horrors go wild.

After all, I just declared myself not only a participant in this hunt, but that I’m joining as subservient to my wife.

“I’m coming too.”

I tilt my head back slightly, enough to catch Izahne in my peripheral vision.

Or rather, Hades.

Any trace of her rugged beauty is gone, replaced by fire and brimstone and bone – not only hers but thousands of bones that seem to have lifted from the plane itself.

Fascinating.

“I will not stop you,” I calmly say.

Somehow I can tell her response is a weak smile. “You couldn’t stop me if you wanted to. Not now.”

Obviously I could, but I know that’s not her point.

And so I gently gesture toward my other wife, the pressure of her powerful and uncompromising gaze still bearing down, and project the image of the same thing I’d just done.

Why? she echoes back.

Because if you don’t, the other fae here won’t recognize you as an ally. There’s no point to anything Livvie is trying to do if I have to kill all her subjects to protect you.

She tilts her head curiously even though I can tell she’s accepted it… or at least accepted it enough.

Although I didn’t miss that small pang of happiness at my suggestion of murdering millions of fae to protect her. It’s almost strange to me, considering long ago her role was to act as a frontline protector for her party, but at the same time endearing.

I’m glad she’s like this.

As she similarly kisses Artemis’ nose, at least as much as a skeleton can kiss anything, I gently and supportively touch her back with a feeler.

While I’m sure it’s no longer necessary considering the iron grip on their wills I can feel through my fox wife, I still telepathically project my aura of malevolence even farther than it does naturally. And with it, my protectiveness of my wives, as well as the promise of universal and final destruction to any who would harm them…

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

Just as I release my false body, exploding into a rapidly expanding cloud of dense ash, glittering in the light of the moon until the entire sky itself is obscured.

It would seem that the massive number of mortals, gods, and even the plane I’ve consumed over the years have created a similarly massive amount of ash that is now just a part of me.

But Arty is still watching me expectantly, even so far as to give me a mental nudge tinged with the faintest touch of affection… and only barely attempting to conceal the madness she’s struggling to restrain.

She needs to hunt, kill, maim. Destroy.

And I know what else she needs: a destination. A target.

How to get her one? Easy. Heavens and hells stand out as gently lit fields of mana in my divine sight.

So as my baleful crimson gaze glares down at the hordes of fae, I simply wrap them up in my ash, in myself…

And carry them all upwards.

Upwards, and into the tear in the sky that will never close.

***

How many planes have we razed?

I don’t know. I don’t remember… Counting stopped making sense after a while.

So now, the destruction just continues. For how long?

Until we find Hope… probably. I’m not really sure anymore, considering the momentum the wild hunt has been building, and how much the thrill of the hunt itself is feeding back into the frenzy happening below me.

And so far, I haven’t participated in it one bit; I haven’t had to. Between the redcaps, ettin, spectral wolves, sharp-toothed deer, wendigos, and even swarms of pixies, nothing living has remained in our wake.

Most surprising to me is the pixies… they surround mortals in entirety, and when they continue on nothing remains but bones and bits of skin. They strip them down to nothing.

Why did they never do that to me when I was young?

…

Ah, right. Fixation. They probably couldn’t.

A mob of giant cats blasts through the most recent defensive barrier, scattering the armored humans behind it before running them down one by one… it looks like they’re enjoying themselves.

Philip would still hiss at them. Probably.

“Whatcha doing?”

I don’t even bother turning to face the pink demoness. I don’t need to. In my ash form, my… true form, I think? I don’t remember anymore. Anyway, like this, I can already see in every direction… although in Astraea’s form I can as well thanks to True Sense…

Why do I ever bother looking? I don’t know. I don’t remember that either. Maybe it’s some kind of human social thing I learned a long time ago?

I also don’t bother responding, instead visualizing pressing together my link to Artemis and bond with Eros and issuing a simple command.

OBEY ARTEMIS. KILL.

She blinks for a moment in surprise before her eyes begin to take on the same madness I’d seen in my wife’s…

And then lets out a shrill scream that causes the mortal defenders on the ground to suddenly freeze and look around them, only a split second before their fae attackers rip them apart.

…

What plane are we even on? I don’t know. Some kind of heaven or hell, although from the spiked armor I’m tempted to think it’s a hell…

Although my own heaven doesn’t exactly look like one, so I suppose the looks don’t matter for much.

…

…

Ah.

We’ve come upon some kind of weird city thing, completely encased within some kind of ethereal dome…

Most likely a barrier.

…

The absence of Nyx’s commentary is starkly noticeable, although I’m not particularly surprised considering how she reacted to my rampage centuries ago.

It’s fine. I don’t blame her, even though this time it’s not even my rampage.

(Enabling. That’s what you’re doing, you know.)

Is it?

(Yes. You know there are other ways to solve this. You didn’t try diplomacy… hells, you didn’t even consider it!)

And yet we’re still talking. Isn’t it a little late for diplomacy?

(…)

Ah, I guess she’s done talking.

Meanwhile, below me the swarms of fae are fruitlessly throwing themselves against the barrier… some of the weaker ones even being harmed or killed by it.

…Until that eyeless thing bursts from the solid granite making up the ground as far as the eye can see, spreading the teeth circling its round maw and letting out a low, rumbling roar.

Not even needing the time to stretch its thousands of chitinous legs, the enormous worm-something creature begins charging the barrier as well, rapidly picking up speed as inertia and air pressure struggle against its bulk.

What was it again? Razor something?

I hit it anew with Appraise as it rapidly approaches the barrier. Ah, right. Level three-thousand and something razorsnare… brood mother?

Does that mean it’s got its own children of some kind?

The razorsnare finally reaches the fortification, and the barrier…

Completely shatters.

Why? I have no idea. Maybe it’s one of the thing’s properties, or Skills, or Traits…

But it doesn’t matter.

What does seem to matter is that as soon as it tears through, thousands of much smaller ones tear free from its flesh, immediately scattering throughout the mortal populace actively and fruitlessly fleeing.

I guess it was a mother. Huh.

Not five minutes later, the plane’s main keep falls. I’m not even sure what they were trying to do here… it almost felt like the defenders all simply charged straight ahead. What kind of strategy is this? Even I know better than to just charge straight ahead.

…And now the fae are razing the structure to the ground. It was an unusual one, seemingly made entirely of jagged rock and metal, but the defensive façade comes down no differently than paper and string.

Hm?

My fox wife stops suddenly, sniffing wildly… and then stops.

And growls.

I know why, too. Her thoughts and feelings are completely transparent through our link.

Hope was here, as well as its captor.

So where are they now?