Mathis woke up with a start. Where was he? All he could see was absolute blackness--a darkness deeper than darkness, defying comprehension. He blinks a few times, but the void stubbornly remained as it was.

He sits up, only to find himself suddenly spinning slowly.

“Okay, what the fuck is this?”

“Wha--Rhys, you bastard, you set the ‘scape to void again!” A youthful feminine voice sounds from seemingly nowhere.

“Might as well have some fun. Not like he’s gonna be any different from the others.” A seemingly unrepentant man responds.

Suddenly, unreality fractures around Mathis and shatters into a more reasonable dark plane with a bed a foot under him, and gravity--causing him to thwump onto the bed, springs creaking under him.

He bolts to his feet the moment he overcomes his surprise and looks around, eyes locking on what looked like a young girl with silver skin in a dress of woven gold, flanked on each side--on one, by a tall, seemingly normal if exceptionally muscled man with a somewhat scraggly beard, and on the other by a lady in black robes, brilliant fire-red hair spilling down her shoulders to waist level.

“Don’t say that Rhys. You should know full well that appearances and predictions can deceive, given your...judgement.” The lady in black sneers slightly.

“Uh. Excuse me, ladies, sir? What….exactly is going on?”

“Look I’m gonna level with ya, bruv. You’re dead. Geeked. Kicked the bucket. Your brother in law swapped your meds for cyanide.”

“Crud. Keith never did like me.” Mathis states dully, too shocked to even be mad. He was dead? But that meant-- “So this is the afterlife?”

“Nah, bruv. Limited time offer and suchlike.”

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“That’s quite enough, Rhys. What my….compatriot here is trying to tell you is that we’re representatives of a world much, much worse off than yours. And we’d like your help.” The lady cut in.

“Worse off? How exactly? Shit got pretty bad in the backwoods of Earth.”

“Bruv, lemme tell ya. World’s got magic, see? Only everyone with any real ability gets rounded up and shoved in prison. Call ‘em Sparkies on the street. Government calls ‘em Branded. Treat ‘em like a combination of your world’s nuclear reactors and livestock.”

Mathis reels back and collapses onto the bed. That...was a bit much. “And what do you want me to do about it?”

The girl speaks up. “How many thousands must suffer and die for the welfare of the rest before it is too much, Mathis?”

“Irene, can it with--” The lady slaps Rhys on the head….hard enough for him to be knocked down and bounce off the floor.

“Thank you, Laqi. As I was saying, as of today, about a hundred thousand people are Branded. Six thousand fathers stolen from their families. Seven thousand mothers ripped away from their children. Thirty-two thousand children taken from their parents. The rest? Born in captivity. All broken to be harnessed to the yoke of a cruel and ruthless organization. An organization that grinds ever onward. I beg of you. Help them. It will be a thankless job, for there is only one way to avert their fate. If you do your best, I personally shall assure you have the best afterlife that can be reasonably arranged, regardless of any previous actions, beliefs, or so on.”

“Okay, but what can I do about it?!” Mathis exclaims, feeling...urgency without direction.

Rhys peels himself off the ground. “Mate, when a tree gets too rotten, there’s only one thing you can do.”

….No.

Rhys continues after a pause. “Burn it. Root and branch. Leave nothing. Destroy everything. Their way of life depends on Branded. Everyone hates Sparkies, and you? You’re not going to change their mind. If you try, you’ll be branded before you can say ‘I have a dream’, bruv. They gave peace a shot. In the hundred years they tried for, the cancer set in. Ain’t nothing that can do the job now but that.”

Mathis wants to vomit. “I--I’ll try.”

“Thank you, Mathis.” Irene states softly. “It means a lot to us. Work with the others, but not too closely. We may speak to you in your dreams; if we do, it means you’ve done something important. Farewell.”

Mathis slowly blacks out.

----------------------------------------

“God, I can’t believe he fucking bought that without asking any more questions.” Rhys comments dryly. “You’d think he’d ask what happens after he shatters the world’s infrastructure. Plunge ‘em into the Dark Ages, millions die, faith is rekindled--the Gods win, everyone else loses.”

“Oh, shut up Rhys.” Laqi stated. “I know you’re in charge of War and all, but you could be a ltitle less cynical.”

“Says the goddess of Magic trying to save her chosen people. Can’t believe the squirt is still chugging along, everyone else started to fade a while ago.”

“As long as anyone holds a glimmer of Hope, I shall cling to existence…” Irene pouted. “As well you know.”

“Ah, so you’re saying it won’t be long now?”

“Shut up.” Laqi thumps Rhys again. “Now, who’s next?”

“We’ve got a meth-head up next.”

“Oh god, can we just skip him? He’ll probably get hooked on Juice even if we clean him up and that’s the last thing we want.”

“Only other person we’ve got lined up is a senator.”

“...So, the addict, you said?”

“I figured.”