Mad Jotunn’s Tomb was part of a series of dungeons across the Vulffspine mountain range. Wolf’s Whistle was a township that had sprung up to extract the resources produced by these dungeons, and the Vulff’s Liver tavern was one of its more popular drinking holes.

Will, who wasn’t much of a drinker, was nursing a cup of beer at the bar. No, he mentally corrected himself, it wasn’t a cup, it was a flagon, because of course it was.

The conversation he had had with Glory on the train was weighing heavily on his mind. It wasn’t, inherently, that the idea of his own universe being artificial bothered him. Will had heard it posited many times, and was numb to the idea.

The thought that humans were alone in their universe also bothered him, although that was beginning to fade as well. If earth could figure out a way to hop dimensions, that would be…

He mentally stopped himself. It was too much to think about, and in his sour mood Will didn’t want to give himself hope.

Though he didn’t like that he thought this way, what he actually had a hard time accepting that earth and this place were just as likely to be real or artificial as each other, and that it was even a possibility that earth was fake and this place was real. He considered that unfair, which he also recognized was unfair of himself.

Every instinct told him that even if the entire universe didn’t make sense, his own had to. It had to, because otherwise what was there to hold onto? He knew this place was abnormal because earth was normal and this place wasn’t earth. Without that baseline, he had nothing to work off of.

Will backed away from a couple of men of indeterminate but highly divergent species expressing affection in a very public manner, knocking over his drink.

He almost complained, then decided he didn’t actually care enough about beer to warrant it. Sitting down a few stools away, he ordered a flagon of plain water.

Virgil and Glory were arranging lodging and supplies, and Dio and Rex were off in some room of the Vulff’s Liver meeting the locals, which Will had correctly expected to be a euphemism but hadn’t expected to be something of a competition.

Will was left to keep an eye on them, thankfully only metaphorically, and every now and again one of them would come out and tell Will that they had “scored” some number of points, only some of which appeared to be related to sex. His tallying had been nearly automatic, something to occupy the parts of his brain incapable of seething. Currently Rex was leading by five points.

“Hey, handsome,” a voice beside him said, and despite himself Will turned his head to face the speaker. It was Rex, smiling at him.

Except, of course, Rex didn’t talk. And whoever this was didn’t have the piece of silver he used as a whistle.

“Who are you?” asked Will coolly. “You’re not my friend.”

Not-Rex looked taken aback, but impressed. “I’m Mint Julep. You looked lonely.”

“Not interested,” Will said. “Wait… Mint Julep like the drink?”

Mint Julep smiled and, displaying more flexibility than someone with bones should possess, reached past Will and stole his drink. He took a sip of it.

“And now my name’s… wait, this is tap water.”

“Your name is Tap Water?” Will asked again, equal parts unamused and morbidly curious.

“Until I drink something else,” said Tap Water.

“And how often does that little trick work on guys?” Will asked acidically.

“More often than you’d think, satyr,” said Tap Water, giving a wide grin.

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“Ugh,” said Will. “Do you really have to look like that? It’s weird.”

Tap water smiled thoughtfully, and Will could practically see the lightbulb go off in the shapeshifter’s head. His features rearranged in a way Will could only describe as amoebic, until someone entirely different was sitting there.

“How about this?” said Tap Water, who was now wearing the face of Will’s ex-girlfriend, Julia. Well, not quite. Apparently something in the connection was imperfect, because what it actually looked like was a male version of Julia. A Julian.

“This is worse,” said Will bitterly. “How often does looking like someone’s ex work?”

“More often than the drinking trick,” said Tap Water. Unlike the body, the mimicry of Julia’s voice was perfect, which felt more incongruous to Will than if it had been altered.

“I’ve seen enough,” Will said. “Get lost. And look like someone else.”

“Nah,” said Tap Water. “I like this form. Maybe I’ll make it the default.”

Will knew he was being played, but he was angry and buzzed and so, so tired. “Seriously, dude, quit it.”

Tap Water made a show of standing up and walking away slowly. Distantly Will was aware that people were beginning to notice, but he decided he didn’t care about making a scene.

“I’ll just go bug that stupid tiefling in the other room again,” Tap Water said, and Will didn’t know if it was meant to escalate or de-escalate. Truthfully, neither did Tap Water.

Will didn’t see red. He saw black, the color of everything around him draining away. The skeletons of everything around him, both the literal ones, and luminous outlines of people, the building, and the world beyond, glowed like spiderwebs in moonlight. The thing that called itself Tap Water had no bones, as Will had suspected, but a series of air-filled sacs, some kind of pneumatic support structure. Will knew in exacting detail how to make it stop working.

“Don’t,” Will began. He was pushing Tap Water against a wall. When did that happen? He didn’t remember getting up. “call,” Some kind of energy was flowing through Will, or the opposite of energy. Will didn’t understand and didn’t care. “him,” The darkness around him was beginning to fill with hot-white light, and distantly Will acknowledged that what he was about to do was quite disproportionate. “stupid.”

The area around Will bloomed with searing energy, vaporizing every piece of organic matter in a short radius around him, sparing only Will himself.

The charred remains of what had been his clothes, the wooden wall and floor, and of course, Tap Water had been pushed to the edge of the circle, a perfect ashen ring defining Will’s personal space.

The metal buckles and rings that had constituted the inorganic pieces of Will’s outfit clattered to the ground with a series of dull clinks. Will darted his head back and forth, painfully aware that everyone was watching him.

He had just killed someone, for a given value of killing, and now they were watching to see what happened next.

Will ran for the door. He expected this would make him look more guilty than not, but he didn’t care. He needed to get out of that space. He barged out onto the dark, snowy street, bolting in the direction he remembered Virgil and Glory going.

Running through the cold air only somewhat added to the cocktail of terrible feelings roiling within him.

He wasn’t sure where he was going, and had no clue where the others were. For all he knew, he may have passed Virgil and Glory ages ago.

Will slowed, then stopped. The cold was beginning to really bite into him. He looked around, searching for somewhere he could sit down and warm up.

A gray bird flew overhead and landed nearby Will. He had just a moment to recognize it as a pigeon before it transformed into Dio, who made a soft noise of exertion.

“Holy shit,” Dio said, panting. “You’re fucking fast.”

“You were following me?” Asked Will.

“For a given value of following, yeah. I saw you ice that guy and run. What the hell were you thinking?” Dio asked.

“I… he… he was being a creep, and I… I don’t know what I did exactly.”

“No, what were you thinking when you started running?”

“Huh?” Will asked uncomprehendingly.

“You were right,” Dio said. “He was being a creep. Everyone who saw it go down agreed.”

“Yeah, but I killed him,” Will protested. “Like, vaporized him.”

“And he’ll be fine,” Dio said soothingly. “Maybe he’ll even learn his lesson.”

“But… I…” Will realized he didn’t want to be comforted. He didn’t want to be forgiven; he wanted to stew in his awful mood for as long as he could.

Articulating this internally made Will appreciate how stupid that sounded.