INTERLUDE

A loud pounding on the door to the room he was sleeping in sounded. Incessant, annoying, and ever-unceasing. Would that these annoying pests leave him alone!

“Go away!” he croaked out, lips dry from having had so much to drink just the night before.

The hammering on his door stopped for a moment, as if in thoughtful repose on its response. Then it returned, heavier and more insistent than ever. The door itself was warded to prevent voices and outside noise from coming through, as he didn’t want to be disturbed during his work or fits of depression.

“I said fuck off!” he snarled, cracking an eyelid. With a wave of his hand the wall, the hallway beyond it, and the neighboring wall vaporized. The soft white cloud-like material that made up the building that he was in simply ceased to be in the face of such overwhelming power.

“Well fuck you too you lazy git!” snarled a voice as a small, dwarf-like being stomped through the newly renovated entrance. With a wave of his gnarled well worked hands the clouds, as that was what they were, flowed back together to reform the wall and doorway. “Ya just have no respect for others' crafts! Now, get the fuck up you lazy bastard!”

The man lying in a bundle of blankets moved his barely cracked eye over to the Dwarf in question. This savage little creature was the High God for this universe. An annoying being, always holding others to their responsibilities. He was also the one responsible for the current level of organization, construction, and maintenance of their central hub of operations.

“No,” he said simply, then rolled back over and snuggled into the blankets.

He heard an intake of breath behind him. “What do ya just say to me? Did ya just tell me no ya daft fuck? Fine. Have it yer way, Kevin!”

A shiver rolled down Kevin’s back as he swung his head back around to tell the miniature ball of bearded fury not to do anything too extreme. But he was far too late for that.

The floor that was in the room promptly vanished, dropping him into the open sky of Valhalla. Rolling his eyes at the theatrics, he banished his bedding into his pocket dimension and summoned clothing. Curling back up and around, he found the High God falling beside him.

“Ya git, was all this really necessary? Ya should just wake up what I call fer ya,” the Dwarf said, still beat red with annoyance. “I don’t have all day ya know.”

Kevin snorted, sipping his freshly summoned cup of coffee. Some being somewhere would rapidly realize that their coffee had mysteriously vanished, but that wasn’t his problem.

“I get it,” he said lazily, “I had a rough night. Sorry about that.”

The Dwarf shook his soot-stained mange, “Gah! Yer daft. Ya been sleepin for nearly four centuries now. Even the laziest of yer peers don’t get more than a century of shut-eye at a time. So yer getting a review. Now.”

That got Kevin's attention. He swiveled his head so hard to look at his boss that he nearly severed his own spine. “What the fuck? I’m not due for one for another couple millennia. You can't do that to me just because I had one bad night and took the equivalent of a day off!”

“Bah, yer assigned race just went extinct. Or close enough ta count. Now ya got other God’s pokin around and makin trouble,” the Dwarf said, arresting their momentum and moving them across the sky to a massive gold and white complex.

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Kevin recognized the Management Center as they moved. It was Valhalla’s primary administrative center. It was also where he worked to keep his client race, Humanity, on track. They were undoubtedly problem children, more interested in killing each other or finding new ways to kill each other than working towards ascension.

But at least he didn’t have an annoying race like slimes or cat people. Just the thought of managing those races gave him shudders. Slimes were gross, and cats got hair everywhere.

“Ugh, what did the humans do this time? Did they go to war again? Have they attacked Chuck’s client race? I know they were sharing space,” Kevin muttered. “Wait! Did they finally blow up Earth? Dumb name by the way. Who names their planet after the dirt it's made up of?”

“Shut up. Ya talk too much,” grunted the Dwarf. “Pantheon above, I retired from Central just to deal with this garbage? Fer fucks sake.”

Kevin perked up at that. No one knew much about the High God, or where he came from. All they knew was that he was a cantankerous bastard. And kind.

His thought process was interrupted as they arrived at the building. Walking inside, far faster than his stubby legs would let on, the Dwarf led Kevin through a series of hallways, annexes, and elevators. It was a borderline struggle to keep up with his annoyed Boss, but he made a good showing.

It wasn’t too long before they arrived at Kevin’s office. Kicking open the door, the Dwarf wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Yer office is a trash heap. Get it cleaned up today or I’m gonna make you help with Stacey’s slimes.”

He shuddered, “Right. You got it.”

Walking over to his workstation, Kevin moved all the garbage from the desk onto the floor. Glancing at the High God he muttered, “I will clean it up.” He booted up the advanced-looking machine and began going through reports. The more he read, the paler he got. Eventually, he leaned back and looked at his patiently waiting boss. “Well, I’m fucked.”

“Ya could be, or ya could not be. The balls fully in yer court,” the diminutively powerful being pointed out. “The System is finally active there. This could be yer chance to turn things around. They're also a few determined humans left on the home world. Ya could get them on board to help as well.”

Kevin ticked off the points on his fingers, “Firstly, there’s hardly enough of them left to come back. True, this Ray guy is resurrecting them, but there’s a limit to that. He just doesn’t know it yet. Secondly, that Nemesis of his is going to be a huge issue. Thirdly, the System isn’t even fully running yet. And somehow they have classes. Just how the fuck? And, last of all, the planet is being designated as a fucking undead dungeon world. Go figure.”

The High God chuckled at that. “Yeah, ya may very well be fucked. But, and this be a seriously large butt a bit like yer own if ya can pull off taming a dungeon world? Ya would be catapulted to the top, and I mean the very top of the management pool.”

Kevin thought about that for a minute. Then he thought about it for a bit more. Then he pulled open a drawn, pulled out a bottle, and took a massive swig after popping the top off.

The Dwarf snatched the bottle out of his hands. “What the fuck are ya doing? You fuckin punk, drinking on the job. Should just toss you onta the planet as a mortal, let you feel the burn a bit, eh?”

“No thanks. I’d rather return to the void,” Kevin said. Then he sighed deeply, “This is going to take a shitload of work. Metric tons of shit … loads of … fuck! It's going to take a lot of effort is what I’m getting at.”

“Aye lad, that it will. But I promise that if you give it your all, and still fail, I will give ya a bit of a vacation before assigning you ta yer next client race,” promised the High God. “But if you succeed … well the rewards are substantial.”

Kevin sighed deeply again. “Fine. I will give it a shot, no promises though!” he swore, pointing a finger at the Dwarf. “this is basically an unrecoverable scenario where I have no troops, no bases, no resources, and am at the mercy of an advanced level Nemesis on a world saturated with the undead. And to top all that off the fucking thing is about to wipe and my so-called Champion has a single grid section to his name.”

His boss held up his hands placatingly, “None taken. Promise ya, lad,” he said. Then he downed the entire bottle of Ambrosia that Kevin had snuck into work.

The Divine Administrator sputtered as his boss burped loudly and deposited the empty bottle onto his desk. “That were a fine year lad. Don’t bring booze ta work again … actually, on second thought. Please do. Ah hardly get enough time ta enjoy a nice bottle every now an again.”

With that, the Dwarf waddled out his front door.

Kevin opened the massive list of tickets on his machine, then burst into tears and slammed his head onto the desk. “Why is Fate so fucking cruel to me?” he cried out.

A duck stuck his head into his office door with a quack. Puffing his cigar he asked, “Did you call for me?”